“Come,” cried I, “this sounds delightful! Shall you be up there?”
“Only for a day or two,” was the reply. “I shan’t trouble you, Mr. Cole.”
“My dear sir, that wasn’t my meaning at all. I’n only sorry I shall not see something of you on your own heath. I can’t thank you enough for your kind suggestion. When do you suppose the Braithwaites could do with me?”
His charming smile rebuked my impatience.
“We must first see whether they can do with you at all,” said he. “I sincerely hope they can;
Yet my throat was parched; my lips were caked; my frame was hollow. Very weak I was already; without sustenance I should surely die. But as yet I was far enough from death, or I had done disdaining the means of life that all this time lay ready to my hand. A number of dead fowls imparted ballast to my little craft.