Look on
the bright side of things. Look forward with hope to the time that you
shall see him home safe and well again. It will be sure to come."
"You speak as if you believed it would."
"Of course I do," said Hamish. "And every one finds me a true prophet."
They were then passing the Hazledon Charity. At the iron gates of the
inclosure, talking to an old man, stood the Rev. William Yorke. "Roland
left a message for him!" exclaimed Hamish, half mockingly, as his eyes
fell upon the clergyman.
Lady Augusta, impulse all over, suddenly put her head out at the window
and stopped the fly. William Yorke, looking surprised to see who were
its inmates, advanced to the door. The lady's tears flowed afresh.
"He is gone, William! My darling, self-willed, troublesome boy is gone,
and I shall, perhaps, never see him more, till I am an old woman."
"Who is gone?" returned Mr. Yorke.
"Roland. Never was a mother so tried as I. He will soon be on the sea,
ploughing his way to Port Natal. I wish there was no sea!--no Port
Natals! He went off without saying a word to me, and he is GONE!"
Mr. Yorke, bewildered, turned his eyes on Hamish for explanation. He
had never heard of the Port Natal project. Hamish nodded in
confirmation.
"The best place for him," said Mr. Yorke. "He must work for his bread,
there, before he eats it."
Lady Augusta shrieked. "How cruelly hard you are, William!"
"Not hard, Lady Augusta--kind," he gently said.
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