rgotten the sensation yet, Harry. You remember too?"

"Oh yes, I remember," said the captain, thoughtfully.

"Of course you do. I say, what a pair of young gamecocks we were. Why,
I can remember now flourishing the tooth-pick about, with its blade half
blue steel and a lion's head on the hilt. Never you mind about Syd; the
uniform will set him right."

"I hope so."

"Hope so. Don't I tell you it will! I like the boy; plenty of
downright British courage in him. Isn't afraid of either of us. Egad,
I like him, Harry; and he'll turn out a big man."

CHAPTER FOUR.

The rest of that day passed gloomily for Sydney, who was in the garden
just before dinner, when Barney came up to him.

"Seen him, Master Sydney?" he said gloomily.

"Seen who? My father?"

"No, my boy, Panama. Strikes me he's cut and run, and when the skipper
hears on it there'll be no end of a row."

"Oh, nonsense! He's hiding in the lofts, or one of the outhouses,
Barney."

"No, my lad, I've hunted 'em all over with a hay-fork."

"And of course you didn't find him. If he saw you coming with a
two-pronged fork what would he think?"

"But I wasn't going to job on him with it, Master Syd."

"How was he to know that, Barney?"

"'Cause I'm allus such a good father to him."

"And hit him with the rake-handle only this morning."

"Well, that would only loosen his skin a bit, and give him room to grow.
Do him good."

"Don't see it, Barney. Wouldn't do me any good, only make me wild."

"But you don't think he's cut and run, do you, lad?"

"I dare say he has, but he'll soon come back."

"Only let me get hold of him then."

"If you touch him when he does, I'll tell my father and Sir Thomas you
ill-use him."

"What a shame! Master Syd, you shouldn't. But you do think he'll come
back, sir?"

"Why, of course."

"That's right. I want him to go along o' you."

"Along with me?"

"Of course. I heared the skipper was going to take you up to town
to-morrow to see your new captain."

"Oh!" ejaculated Syd; and he turned sharp round and ran into the house,
where he was soon after seated at table with his uncle and father,
feeling that the servants were watching him, and expecting every moment
to hear some allusion to the next day's journey.

But though no word of the kind was said, Syd cracked no walnuts that
night, but sat gloomily over the dessert till his uncle filled his
glass, called upon him to pass the port to his fat