Real Gold: A Story of Adventure. Fenn George Manville

found out,” said the captain, “and if you persist in going, you must run the risk; but I beg of you not to take that boy Perry with you, to expose him to these dangers.”

      “What am I to do with him, then?”

      “Leave him with us. He will be happy enough with my boy Cyril; and my wife and I will take every care of him.”

      “Thank you, Norton,” cried the colonel warmly; “I am most grateful. But you are wrong: he would not be happy if he stayed here and I went alone; I believe he would prefer running all risks with me. How odd!” added the colonel, smiling; “here he is, to speak for himself.”

      For at that moment the door was softly opened, and Perry stood there, looking startled.

      “Come in, boy, come in,” cried the colonel.

      “I – I beg; our pardon; I thought Captain Norton had gone.”

      “No, and we were just talking about you.”

      “About me, father?”

      “Yes; Captain Norton thinks it would be too risky and arduous a journey for you up into the mountains, and he says you are to stay here and make yourself happy with Cyril till I come back.”

      The lad looked delighted.

      “Oh father!” he cried. Then, quick as thought, his manner changed.

      “It is very good of Captain Norton,” he said gravely, “but I could not stop here and let you go alone.”

      “Don’t be hasty, Perry, lad,” said the captain kindly. “There, I’m going down to the wharf; you and your father chat it over, and we’ll talk about it when I return.”

      He left the room, passing out through the veranda.

      “Well,” said the colonel, looking away at the window, “I think he’s right, and you had better stay, Perry.”

      “I don’t think you do, father,” replied the boy. “Besides, you promised to take me.”

      “Um! Yes, I did, my lad; but circumstances have altered since then. They say it’s dangerous up there among the Indians.”

      “Then you had better not go, father,” said Perry quickly.

      “I have undertaken to go, and I am going,” said the colonel firmly. “I gave my word.”

      “And you can’t break it, father?”

      “No, my boy, not honourably.”

      Perry laughed softly.

      “Hullo! What does that mean, sir?” cried the colonel. “Glad I am going into danger?”

      “Of course not, father,” said Perry. “I was only laughing because you promised to take me, and you can’t break your word.”

      The colonel leaned back and laughed.

      “And I’ve come with a petition, father,” said Perry.

      “Petition?”

      “Yes; you said that it would be nice for me to be with Cyril Norton.”

      “Yes, I rather like the lad. He’s a rackety, wild young dog, but there’s a good deal of the gentleman about him. But what do you mean! You said you did not want to stay here.”

      “Yes, father, but he wants to stay with us.”

      “Stay with us? We’re not going to stay here.”

      “I mean, go with us. He is wild to go. Take him with us, father. I should like it so much.”

      “Why, Perry, my boy, you’re mad,” said the colonel. “If the journey is so risky that Captain Norton wishes me to leave you here, do you think it likely that he will let his son go?”

      “Perhaps he would with you, father. He trusts you.”

      “Not to that extent.”

      “Try him, father. It would be so nice to have Cil with us.”

      “Nice for you, sir – double responsibility for me.”

      “You wouldn’t mind that, father, and we would help you so.”

      “Yes, nice lot of help I should get from you.”

      “You don’t know, father; but, I say, you will ask him?”

      “Ask him yourself, sir,” said the colonel firmly; “here he is.”

      For at that moment steps were heard in the veranda, and Captain Norton appeared.

      “Don’t let me disturb you,” he said; “I came back for some bills of lading. – Well, Perry, you’re going to stop and keep Cil company, eh? I’ll have the big boat out and newly rigged for you boys. You can fish, and sail, and – ”

      “But I’m not going to stay, sir,” said Perry quietly.

      “Not going to stay! I’m very sorry. But you must think better of it. Sleep on it, my lad. That journey in the mountains will be too arduous for a lad like you.”

      “Oh no, sir. I’m light and strong, and – ”

      “Yes? And what? You are afraid of outstaying your welcome? Nonsense, boy; you’ll be conferring a favour upon us. I shall be glad for Cil to have your company. He likes you.”

      Perry exchanged glances with his father, who nodded, and his eyes seemed to say, “Now’s your time.”

      “Yes, sir, and I like Cil. We get on together, and – and he wants to go with us!”

      Perry uttered the last words hurriedly, and then wished that he had not said them, for the captain looked at him quite fiercely.

      “What!” he exclaimed.

      “Cil said he would give anything to go with us, sir, and I promised to ask my father if he would take him.”

      “Well,” said Captain Norton sternly, “and have you asked him?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “What does he say?”

      “He says no,” said the colonel firmly. “There is no doubt, I suppose, that I am going to run some risks, and I begin to feel now that I am hardly warranted in exposing my own son to these dangers. I should certainly not be right in exposing the son of a friend to them, even if that friend consented, which he would not. Am I right, Norton?”

      “Quite right,” said the gentleman addressed.

      “Then we need say no more about it,” cried the colonel. “Pray, my boy, help us by dissuading your new friend from thinking about so mad a project. We must not make Captain and Mrs Norton regret their kindness to us.”

      “No, father. I understand,” said Perry.

      “Then there is an end of the matter,” said the colonel.

      “Not quite,” said their host, smiling, “I am still hoping that you will stay with us, Perry.”

      “No, sir,” said the boy, very firmly now, “I am going with my father. I wish, though, you would let Cil come too.”

      “Impossible, my lad,” said the captain.

      “Then now let’s change the subject,” said the colonel. “I do not start yet for a week, and plenty of things may occur to alter all our opinions and determinations.”

      “They will not alter mine,” said the captain firmly. “If you both alter yours, I shall be very glad. There, I must go now.”

      Captain Norton gave Perry a friendly nod, and left them once more.

      “There, Perry, you hear?”

      “Yes, father, but he may alter his mind.”

      “Don’t expect it, my lad; Captain Norton is firm as a rock in all he decides upon.”

      “So is Cyril, father.”

      “Not quite,” said the colonel, smiling; “the stuff is soft yet,