hed into the
room. Bax seized the boy in his arms, and pressed him to his breast.

"Hallo! I say, is it murder ye're after, or d'ye mistake me for a polar
bear?" cried Tommy, on being put down; "wot a hug, to be sure! Lucky
for me that my timbers ain't easy stove in. Wot d'ye mean by it?"

Bax laughed, and patted Tommy's head. "Nothin', lad, only I feel as if
I should ha' bin your mother."

"Well, I won't say ye're far out," rejoined the boy, waggishly, "for I
do think ye're becomin' an old wife. But, I say, what can be wrong with
Guy Foster? He came back to the cottage a short while ago lookin' quite
glum, and shut himself up in his room, and he won't say what's wrong, so
I come down here to look for you, for I knew I'd find ye with old Jeph
or Bluenose."

"Ye're too inquisitive," said Bax, drawing Tommy towards him, and
sitting down on a chair, so that the boy's face might be on a level with
his. "No doubt Guy will explain it to you in the morning. I say,
Tommy, I have sometimes wondered whether I could depend on the
friendship which you so often profess for me."

The boy's face flushed, and he looked for a moment really hurt.

"Tutts, Tommy, you're gettin' thin-skinned. I do but jest."

"Well, jest or no jest," said the boy, not half pleased, "you know very
well that nothing could ever make me turn my back on _you_."

"Are you sure?" said Bax, smiling. "Suppose, now, that I was to do
something very bad to you, something unkind, or that _looked_ unkind--
what then?"

"In the first place you couldn't do that, and, in the second place, if
you did I'd like you just as well."

"Ay, but suppose," continued Bax, in a jocular strain, "that what I did
was _very_ bad."

"Well, let's hear what you call very bad."

Bax paused as if to consider, then he said: "Suppose, now, that I were
to go off suddenly to some far part of the world for many years without
so much as saying good-bye to ye, what would you think?"

"I'd find out where you had gone to, and follow you, and pitch into you
when I found you," said Tommy stoutly.

"Ay, but I did not ask what you'd do; I asked what you'd think?"

"Why, I would think something had happened to prevent you lettin' me
know, but I'd never think ill of you," replied Tommy.

"I believe you, boy," said Bax, earnestly. "But come, enough o' this
idle talk. I want you to go up to the cottage with a message to Guy.
Tell him not to speak to any one to-night or to-morrow