But at this juncture a door at the further end of the kitchen opened,

and a man entered. He, like the Bo'sun, was merry of eye, breezy of

manner, and hairy of visage; but there all similarity ended, for,

whereas the Bo'sun was a square man, this man was round--round of

head, round of face, and round of eye. At the sight of the Viscount,

his round face expanded in a genial smile that widened until it was

lost in whisker, and he set two fingers to his round forehead and

made a leg.

"Lord love me, my Lord, and is it you?" he exclaimed, clasping the

hand the Viscount had extended. "Now, from what that imp of a

bye--axing his parding--your tiger, Mr. Milo, told me, I were to

expect you at nine sharp--and here it be nigh on to ten--"

"True, Jack; but then both he and I reckoned without my father. My

father had the bad taste to--er--disagree with me, hence I am late,

Jack, and breakfastless, and my friend Mr. Beverley is as hungry as

I am. Bev, my dear fellow, this is a very old friend of mine--Jack

Truelove, who fought under my uncle at Trafalgar."

"Servant, sir!" says Jack, saluting Barnabas.

"The 'Belisarius,' Seventy-four!" smiled Barnabas.

"Ay, ay," says Jack, with a shake of his round head, "the poor old

'Bully-Sawyer'--But, Lord love me! if you be hungry--"

"Devilish!" said the Viscount, "but first, Jack--what's amiss with

Clemency?"

"Clemency? Why, where be that niece o' mine?"

"She's run away, Jack. I found her in tears, and I had scarce said a

dozen words to her when--hey presto! She's off and away."

"Tears is it, my Lord?--and 'er sighed, too, I reckon. Come now--'er

sighed likewise. Eh, my Lord?"

"Why, yes, she may have sighed, but--"

"There," says Jack, rolling his round head knowingly, "it be nought

but a touch o' love, my Lord."

"Love!" exclaimed the Viscount sharply.

"Ah, love! Nieces is difficult craft, and very apt to be took all

aback by the wind o' love, as you might say--but Lord! it's only

natural arter all. Ah! the rearing o' motherless nieces is a

ticklish matter, gentlemen--as to nevvys, I can't say, never 'aving

'ad none to rear--but nieces--Lord! I could write a book on 'em,

that is, s'posing I could write, which I can't; for, as I've told

you many a time, my Lord, and you then but a bye over here on a

visit, wi' the Bo'sun, or his Honor the Cap'n, and you no older then

than--er--Mr. Milo, though longer in the leg, as I 've told you many

a time and oft--a very ob-servant man I be in most things, consequent'

I aren't observed this here niece--this Clem o' mine fair weather

and foul wi'out larning the kind o' craft nieces be. Consequent',

when you tell me she weeps, and likewise sighs, then I make bold to

tell you she's got a touch o' love, and you can lay to that, my Lord."




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