“We?” cried Small Porges, looking up with eager eyes, “do you mean you’d take me to sea with you,—­an’ my Auntie Anthea, of course?”

“You don’t suppose I’d leave either of you behind, if I could help it, do you?  We’d all sail away together—­wherever you wished.”

“Do you mean,” said Small Porges, in a suddenly awed voice, “that it is—­your ship,—­your very own?”

“Oh yes-”

“But,—­do you know, Uncle Porges, you don’t look as though you had a ship—­for your very own, somehow.”

“Don’t I?”

“You see, a ship is such a very big thing for one man to have for his very own self.  An’ has it got masts, an’ funnels, an’ anchors?”

“Lots of ’em.”

“Then, please, when will you take me an’ Auntie Anthea sailing all over the oceans?”

“Just so soon as she is ready to come.”

“Then I think I’d like to go to Nova Zembla first,—­I found it in my jogafrey to-day, an’ it sounds nice an’ far off, doesn’t it?”

“It does, Shipmate!” nodded Bellew.

“Oh! that’s fine!” exclaimed Small Porges rapturously, “you shall be the captain, an’ I’ll be the shipmate, an’ we’ll say Aye Aye, to each other—­like the real sailors do in books,—­shall we?”

“Aye, aye Shipmate!” nodded Bellew again.

“Then please, Uncle Por—­I mean Captain,—­what shall we name our ship,—­I mean the new name?”

“Well, my Porges,—­I mean, of course, shipmate,—­I rather thought of calling her—­Hallo!—­why here’s the Sergeant.”

Sure enough, there was Sergeant Appleby sitting under the shade of “King Arthur”—­but who rose, and stood at attention as they came up.

“Why Sergeant, how are you?” said Bellew, gripping the veteran’s hand.  “You are half an hour before your usual time, to-day,—­nothing wrong, I hope?”

“Nothing wrong, Mr. Bellew, sir—­I thank you.  No, nothing wrong, but this—­is a—­memorable occasion, sir.  May I trouble you to—­step behind the tree with me—­for half a moment, sir?”

Suiting the action to the word, the Sergeant led Bellew to the other side of the tree, and there, screened from view of the house, he, with a sudden, jerky movement, produced a very small leather case from his pocket, which he handed to Bellew.

“Not good enough—­for such a woman—­I know, but the best I could afford, sir!” said the Sergeant appearing profoundly interested in the leaves overhead, while Bellew opened the very small box.

“Why—­it’s very handsome, Sergeant!” said Bellew, making the jewels sparkle in the sun,—­“anyone might be proud of such a ring.”

“Why, it did look pretty tidy—­in the shop, sir,—­to me, and Peterday.  My comrade has a sharp eye, and a sound judgment in most things, sir—­and we took—­a deal of trouble in selecting it.  But now—­when it comes to—­giving it to Her,—­why it looks—­uncommon small, and mean, sir.”

“A ruby, and two diamonds, and very fine stones, too, Sergeant!”