"Back again, then, Rodd!"
"Oh yes, uncle. Did you think me long?"
"So long, my boy, that I was thinking of sending the boat to fetch you,
for fear you should be converted into a Frenchman. Hang them all! How
I do hate them and their nasty, smooth, polished ways!"
"Oh, uncle, you don't!" cried the boy indignantly. "I do, sir. How
dare you contradict me! And I won't have you getting too fond of that
French boy. He and his father set me thinking about old Bony, and as
soon as I begin thinking about Bony I have a nasty taste in my mouth.--
Well, how did you get on?"
"I had a most delightful afternoon, uncle. Young Morny--let's see, he's
Viscount Morny--"
"Viscount grandmother!" snapped out the doctor. "Anybody can be a
viscount in France if he's got an income of a few hundred francs--francs
in France of common silver. They rank with golden guineas in your grand
old home."
"Oh, well, I don't know, uncle I only know that he's the nicest fellow I
ever met."
"Gush!" cried the doctor. "I won't have it, Rodd. I won't have you
making too much of these French people. I don't like them."
"But you don't know them, uncle. Both the Count and his son are the
most gentlemanly men I ever met."
"The most gentlemanly men you ever met!" cried Uncle Paul mockingly.
"Nice puppy you are to set yourself up for a judge! Very gentlemanly,
to come in the dark with two boat-loads of savage-looking buccaneers to
seize our schooner! And they would, too, if it hadn't been for Captain
Chubb's courage."
"Oh, uncle, don't be unreasonable. The poor fellows were desperate.
Suppose you had been in such a position as they were."
"I am not going to suppose anything of the sort, sir," cried the doctor
indignantly; "and look here, Rodney, I will not have you setting up your
feathers like the miserable young cockerel you are, and beginning to
crow at me, just as if you were full grown. It's growing unbearable,
Rodney, and I won't have it, sir. I am very much displeased with you,
and you had better be off to your bunk at once before we come to an open
quarrel. It is too much, sir, and if your poor mother were alive and
could hear you talking like this she'd--she'd--she'd--there, I don't
know what she wouldn't say."
"I do," said the boy.
"What would she say, sir?" snapped out the doctor.
Rodd stood silent in the darkness for a few moments as he stole his hand
under the irate doctor's arm.
"She'd say that dear Uncle Paul had been thinking about old Bony, and
that it had made him very cross with me about nothing at all."
Uncle Paul made a sound like the beginning of a speech that would not
come, and the silence seemed deeper than ever, nothing being heard but
the soft lapping of the water under the vessel's counter, as she glided
slowly through the sea.
But Rodd felt the warm arm under which his hand nestled press it closer
and closer to the old man's side, and that he was urged along the deck
to keep pace with his elder slowly up and down, up and down, from stem
to stern, for some minutes before that speech came--one which was quite
different from that which Rodd fully expected to hear, for it was in
Uncle Paul's natural tones once more, as he said very thoughtfully and
in quite a confidential manner--
"Yes, very gentlemanly, Pickle, my boy; quite the nobleman, I might say,
and I am not at all surprised that you helped that poor lad to escape.
A little effeminate, but certainly a very nice lad. But I have been
thinking about them ever since I came on board this afternoon, and I
can't quite make out that Count. What's he doing here, my boy? On some
mission, and connected with some jealousy and a stop being put to his
cruise. I am not quite sure, Pickle."
"Rodney, uncle," said the boy mischievously.
"Pickle, you dog! Be quiet. I am talking sense. But I think I have
worked it out. He betrayed himself. He's a naturalist, boy. He
betrayed it in his looks and words as soon as he learned what I was
about. Didn't you notice how eager he was to know about our pursuits?"
"Yes, uncle; I noticed that directly."
"Ah, I thought so. A naturalist--a born naturalist, Pickle, and in
spite of his being a Frenchman I shall begin to feel a brotherly respect
for a follower of the only pursuit worthy of a gentleman. Well, we had
a very short sleep last night, so we have got a long one due to our
credit to-night, and on the strength of that Captain Chubb has arranged
to have supper quite early. This has been a queer day, Pickle, a very
queer day, and I am not at all displeased, for I am beginning to think
that we have got a very good time before us."
"What time, uncle?"
"Ashore, my boy. What do you say to having a couple of the sailors with
guns to keep us company while the rest are new-bottoming that brig?
Walks in the primeval forest, Rodd, wonderful botanical rambles,
shooting birds of glorious plumage, most likely coming across the great
man-ape, the chimpanzee. What do you say to that, my boy? Won't that
be a grand change from fishing and dredging and bottling specimens?"
"Uncle Paul, don't!" cried the boy.
"Don't? What do you mean, sir?"
"You were talking just now of our having a good long sleep to-night to
make up for all we lost since we went to bed last."
"Well, sir, what of that?"
"How's a fellow to sleep, uncle, with such things as that to think of?
Why, I shan't get a wink for thinking of the big chimpanzees; and as for
eating any supper now, why, my appetite has completely gone."
"Stuff!" cried Uncle Paul, pressing the lad's arm to his side. "Rodd,
my boy, we must cork a bottle or two and throw them overboard to-morrow,
and then have a little practice with bullets in our guns. We may come
across dangerous beasts there, leopards and the like, while that there
are great man-apes in those forests of the West Coast there is not a
doubt."
"Well, I think I could shoot at one of those great spotted cats, uncle,
all tooth and claw; but wouldn't it be rather queer to shoot one of
those big monkeys which look so much like human beings? I mean those
big ones with ears like ours, and no tails."
"Humph! Ha! Well, I--Yes, all right, captain! We are coming down."