When I was about to leave Californy, Willum told me first of
all to go and find _you_ out, and give you that letter and bag of
nuggets, which I've done. `Then,' says he, `Wopper, you go and find out
my brother Jim's widow, and give 'em my love an' dooty, and this letter,
and this bag of nuggets,'--said letter and bag, ma'am, bein' now in my
chest aboard ship. `So,' says I, `Willum, I will--trust me.' `I do,'
says he; `and, Wopper,' says he, `keep your weather eye open, my boy,
w'en you go to see 'em, because I've my suspicions, from what my poor
brother said on his deathbed, when he was wandering in his mind, that
his widow is extravagant. I don't know,' Willum goes on to say, `what
the son may be, but there's that cousin, Emma Gray, that lives in the
house with 'em, _she's_ all right. _She's_ corresponded with me, off
an' on, since ever she could write, and my brother bein' something lazy,
poor fellar, through havin' too much to do I fancy, got to throw all the
letter-writin' on her shoulders. You take special note of _her_,
Wopper, and if it should seem to you that they don't treat her well, you
let me know.' `Willum,' says I, `I will--trust me.' `Well, then,' says
Willum, `there's one other individooal I want you to ferret out, that's
the gentleman--he must be an old gentleman now--that saved my life when
I was a lad, Mr Lawrence by name. You try to find _him_ out and if you
can do him a good turn, do it.' `Willum,' says I, `I'll do it--trust
me.' `I do,' says he, `and when may I expect you back in Californy,
Wopper?' `Willum,' says I, `that depends.' `True,' says he, `it does.
Give us you're flipper, old boy, we may never meet again in these
terrestrial diggings. Good luck to you. Don't forget my last will an'
testimony as now expressed.' `Willum,' says I, `I won't.' So, ma'am, I
left Californy with a sacred trust, so to speak, crossed the sea, and
here I am."

At this point Captain Wopper, having warmed in his subject, took in at
one bite as much of the small loaf as would have been rather a heavy
dinner for Mrs Roby, and emptied at one gulp a full cup of her tea,
after which he stroked his beard, smiled benignantly at his hostess,
became suddenly earnest again, and went on--chewing as he spoke.

"Now, ma'am, I've three questions to ask: in the first place, as it's
not possible now to do a good turn to old Mr Lawrence, I must do it to
his son. Can you tell me where he lives?"

Mrs Roby told hi