scover the boat creeping round under the
cliffs."
The boy instantly darted off without speaking, and the two gentlemen
watched him in silence. After a moment, however, the shorter of the two
spoke, with his eyes still fixed on the child, and the slight sneer
curling his lip--"A fine boy that, Lennard!" he said. "A child of love,
of course!"
"Doubtless," answered the other; "but you will understand he is not
mine.--It is a friend's child that I have promised to do the best for."
"He is wondrous like your brother Morton," rejoined his companion: "it
needs no marriage certificate to tell us whose son he is."
"No; God speed the poor boy!" replied the other gentleman, "he is like
his father enough. I must do what I can for him, though Heaven knows
what I am to do either for him or myself. It is long ere he can be a
soldier, and I am not much accustomed to taking heed of children."
"Where is his mother?" demanded the cousin: "whatever be her rank, she
is most likely as rich as you are, and certainly better able to take
care of him."
"Pshaw!" replied the other--"I might look long enough before I found
her. The boy has never known anything about her either, so that would
not do. But here he comes, here he comes, so say no more about it."
As he spoke, the boy bounded up, exclaiming, "I see the boat, I see the
boat coming round the rock!" and the moment after, a tolerable-sized
fishing boat was seen rounding the little point that we have mentioned;
and the two cousins, with the boy, descended to the water's edge. During
the few minutes that elapsed before the boat came up to the little
landing-place where they stood, the cousins shook hands together, and
bade each other adieu.
"Well, God speed you, Harry!" said the one; "you have not failed me at
this pinch, though you have at many another."
"Where shall I write to you, Lennard," demanded the other, "in case that
anything should happen to turn up to your advantage?"
"Oh! to the Crown, to the Crown, at St. Germains," replied the elder;
"and if it be for anything to my advantage, write as quickly as
possible, good cousin.--Come, Wilton, my boy; come, here's the boat!
Thank God we have not much baggage to embark.--Now, my man," he
continued, speaking to one of the fishermen who had leaped out into the
water, "lift the boy in, and the portmanteau, and then off to yonder
brig, with all the sail you can put on."
Thus saying, he sprang into the boat, received the boy in his arms, and
waved his hand to his cousin