"I'm coming with you," he said.
"You're making a great mistake if you think of doing that," I assured him. "Here in London you can settle down, and become a great and clever man; with me you'll probably lead a useless, wandering sort of existence, and accomplish nothing. Be wise, and stay where you are."
"I'm coming with you," said Andrew obstinately. "You've been awfully good to me, and I should be a beast to let you go on alone, to knock about the world. I've been selfish even to think of it."
Nor could I shake his determination. I had booked my passage, and I now had to take another for him. He was nervous of going, he told me, and would greatly prefer to have a cabin to himself, if that could be secured. As there were not many passengers by that particular boat, I was able to arrange that he should be alone in a small cabin. I settled the matter then and there, and paid his passage money. And so we came to the last night we were to spend in England.
"I want to have a run round to-morrow," he said, as we were about to retire to our rooms. "It'll be the last time I shall see London, I expect, and I want to make the most of every hour. The vessel doesn't sail until quite late, and I shall go on board and turn in at once. I'm dreadfully afraid I shall be ill, and I don't want to wake up until I'm miles away from the shore; then perhaps I can face it better."
Having settled that point, the boy prepared to go to bed. When he got to the door of the room, however, he turned back, and slowly retraced his steps to where I stood. He seemed bashful and nervous; he did not look into my eyes.
"There's never been anyone in the world that's behaved as well to me as you have," he said. "I shall never be able to thank you enough."
"Shut up, Andrew, and go to bed!" I broke in.
"I don't intend to speak about it again, but I must, just this last time. God bless you, Jack" – I had taught him to call me that – "and may you be the happiest man in the world, wherever you are."
Before I could prevent him he had caught my hand in both of his, and had kissed it passionately; then, with a sound suspiciously like a sob, he turned and bolted from the room. I had known him always for an odd, strange creature, but I confess I was moved more strongly then than perhaps I had ever been moved before.
Evidently he had made up his mind to make the most of the day; he was gone from the hotel when I came down in the morning. I took my last look at London on my own account, feeling not too cheerful at the prospect of going so far away. Then, towards the hour for sailing, I started for the ship. My luggage had gone on, and I had nothing to do but to put myself on board.
"The young gentleman came on board, and turned in about half an hour ago, sir," the steward told me. "Dreadful afraid of being seasick, sir; said he wasn't to be disturbed on any account."
"Let him alone by all means," I said laughing. I felt relieved to know that Andrew had got safely out of his adventures of the day. I turned in, and slept until the morning, by which time we were well out to sea.
Andrew did not put in an appearance all that day. He sent messages to me by the steward, to say that he was very ill, and did not want to see anyone; a little later, that he was getting better. It was quite late in the evening when I put the steward aside and insisted on seeing the boy. I was anxious about him.
The cabin was not particularly well lighted as I stumbled into it. I saw the boy sitting on the side of his bunk, with his face partly turned from me. Curiously enough, he was wearing his hat, a soft felt I had noticed him with the day before we left London.
"Well, Andrew," I said cheerily, "I'm sorry to see you like this. Much better for you to put a good face on it, and come on deck."
"Won't this face do?"
I started, and stared at the figure of the boy.
In a moment the boy rose to his feet and tossed aside the felt hat; a great mass of curls came tumbling down on to his shoulders. I uttered a cry of amazement.
It was Debora!
"Andrew knew all about it all the time," she whispered to me, when presently we were coherent, and when she had blushingly apologised for her boy's dress. "He came to me after he had posted the letter you sent me; then, when I knew that you were going to sail, I made up my mind to come with you. You foolish fellow! you would only have run away from me again if I had tried to meet you in any other way; and I wanted to follow you all over the world."
"All my world is here!" I whispered, as I kissed her.