"What? you want to be rid of us, eh?"

"I don't know why I should, sir. We shan't cross each
other now, sir, whatever might have been once. But if I were
you, I should be in the Indies about now, if I were not fighting
the queen's battles nearer home."

"In the Indies? I should make but a poor hand of
Drake's trade." And so the conversation dropped; but Cary
did not forget the hint.

"So, lad, to make an end of a long story," said he to
Amyas; "if you are minded to take the old man's offer, so am
I: and Westward-ho with you, come foul come fair."

"It will be but a wild-goose chase, Will."

"If she is with him, we shall find her at La Guayra. It
she is not, and the villain has cast her off down the wind, that
will be only an additional reason for making an example of
him."

"And if neither of them are there, Will, the Plate-fleets
will be; so it will be our own shame if we come home empty-
handed. But will your father let you run such a risk?"

"My father!" said Cary, laughing. "He has just now
good hope of a long string of little Carys to fill my place, that
he will be in no lack of an heir, come what will."

"Little Carys?"

"I tell you truth. I think he must have had a sly sup of
that fountain of perpetual youth, which our friend Don Guzman's
grandfather went to seek in Florida; for some twelvemonth
since, he must needs marry a tenant's buxom daughter; and
Mistress Abishag Jewell has brought him one fat baby already.
So I shall go, back to Ireland, or with you: but somewhere.
I can't abide the thing's squalling, any more than I can seeing
Mistress Abishag sitting in my poor dear mother's place, and
informing me every other day that she is come of an illustrious
house, because she is (or is not) third cousin seven times re-
moved to my father's old friend, Bishop Jewell of glorious
memory. I had three-parts of a quarrel with the dear old man
the other day; for after one of her peacock-bouts, I couldn't for
the life of me help saying, that as the Bishop had written an
Apology for the people of England, my father had better con-
jure up his ghost to write an apology for him, and head it,
'Why green heads should grow on grey shoulders.'"

"You impudent villain! And what did he say?"

"Laughed till he cried again, and told me if I did not like
it I might leave it; which is just what I intend to do. Only

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