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Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern Seas, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 12. Uncle Dick Says "Yes!" |
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_ CHAPTER TWELVE. UNCLE DICK SAYS "YES!" It was about a fortnight after this conversation, during the whole of which time Uncle Dick seemed to have kept me so at arm's-length that my very life had become wretched in the extreme, when, being in the drawing-room one evening, my aunt, who had been talking to him about his preparations for going away in three weeks' time, suddenly drew his attention to me. "Do you see how ill and white this boy has turned, Richard? Now it's of no use you denying it; he's quite upset with your nasty birds and stuff." "No, he is not," cried Uncle Dick suddenly; and his whole manner changed. "The boy is fretting." "Fretting!" cried my aunt; "with plenty to eat and drink, and a good bed to sleep on! What has he to fret about?" "He is fretting because he has taken it into his head that he would like to go with me." "Like to go with you, Dick?" cried Uncle Joe, laying hold of the arms of his easy-chair. "Yes, Joe, I'm afraid I have turned his head with my descriptions of collecting abroad." To my utter astonishment, as I sat there with my face burning, and my hands hot and damp, Aunt Sophy did not say a word. "But--but you wouldn't like to go with your Uncle Richard, Nat, would you?" said Uncle Joe. "I can't help it, uncle," I said, as I went to him; "but I should like to go. I don't want to leave you, but I'd give anything to go collecting with Uncle Dick, anywhere, all over the world." Uncle Joe took out his red handkerchief and sat wiping his face. "I have turned it over in my mind a dozen times," said Uncle Dick, "and sometimes I have thought that it would be an injustice to the boy, sometimes I have concluded that with his taste for natural history, his knowledge of treating skins and setting out butterflies and moths, it would be a shame not to give him every encouragement." "How?" said my aunt, drily. "By taking him with me and letting him learn to be a naturalist." "Humph!" said my aunt; "take him with you right away on your travels?" "Yes," said my Uncle Dick. "But I don't think it would be right," said Uncle Joseph softly. "Don't be stupid, Joe," said my aunt sharply; "why shouldn't the boy go, I should like to know?" "Oh, aunt!" I cried excitedly. "Yes, sir, and oh, aunt, indeed!" she cried, quite mistaking my meaning. "Do you suppose that you are to stay here idling away your time all your life--and--" "That will do," cried Uncle Dick quickly. "Nat, my boy, I have held off from taking you before; but if your Uncle Joseph will give his consent as your guardian, you shall come with me as my pupil, companion, and son, if you will, and as far as in me lies I will do my duty by you. What say you, Joe?" he continued, as I ran to him and took his extended hands. My aunt looked at me as if she were going to retract her permission; but she was stopped, I should say, for the first and last time in her life, by Uncle Joseph, who waved his hand and said sadly: "It will be a great grief to me, Dick, a great grief," he said, "and I shall miss my boy Nat very, very much; but I won't stand in his light, Dick. I know that I can trust you to do well by the boy." "I will, Joe, as well as if he were my own." "I know it, Dick, I know it," said Uncle Joe softly; "and I can see that with you he will learn a very, very great deal. Nat, my boy, you are very young yet, but you are a stout, strong boy, and your heart is in that sort of thing, I know." "And may I go--will you take me, Uncle Dick? Say you will." "Indeed I will, my boy," he cried, shaking my hand warmly; "only you will have to run the same risks as I do, and stick to me through thick and thin." "But I don't think it would be possible for him to be ready," said my aunt, who evidently now began to repent of her ready consent. "Nonsense, Sophy!" cried Uncle Dick; "I'll get him ready in time, with a far better outfit than you could contrive. Leave that to me. Well, Nat, it is to be then. Only think first; we may be away for years." "I don't mind, sir; only I should like to be able to write to Uncle Joe," I said. "You may write to him once a week, Nat, and tell him all our adventures, my boy; but I don't promise you that you will always be able to post your letters. There, time is short. You shall go out with me this morning." "Where to, uncle?" I said. "To the gunsmith's, my boy. I shall have to fit you up with a light rifle and double shot-gun; and what is more, teach you how to use them. Get your cap and let's go: there is no time to spare." _ |
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