"Have you not the sense to see, Morley Jones, that my remonstrances with
you are at least disinterested? What would you think if I were to say
to you, `Go, drink your fill till death finds you at last wallowing on
the ground like a beast, or worse than a beast; I leave you to your
fate?'"
"I would think that Jim Welton had changed his nature," replied Jones,
whose anger disappeared as quickly as it came. "I have no objection to
your storming at me, Jim. You may swear at me as much as you please,
but, for any sake, spare me your reasonings and entreaties, because they
only rouse the evil spirit within me, without doing an atom of good; and
don't talk of leaving me. Besides, let me tell you, you are not so
disinterested in this matter as you think. There is some one in
Yarmouth who has something to do with your interest in me."
The young man flushed again at the close of this speech, but not from a
feeling of anger. He dropt his eyes before the earnest though unsteady
gaze of his half-tipsy companion, who burst into a loud laugh as Jim
attempted some stammering reply.
"Come," he added, again assuming the stern aspect which was natural to
him, but giving Jim a friendly slap on the shoulder, "don't let us fall
out, Jim you and I don't want to part just now. Moreover, if we have a
mind to get the benefit of the tide to-night, the sooner we up anchor
the better, so we won't waste any more time talking."
Without waiting for a reply, Mr Jones went forward and called the crew.
The anchor was weighed, the sails were set, and the sloop Nora--bending
over before the breeze, as if doing homage in passing her friend the
Gull-Light--put to sea, and directed her course for the ancient town and
port of Yarmouth.