"So it was Uncle John, was it, Jerry--how very
like Uncle John--eh, Jerry?"
"Never was nobody born into this here vale o' sorrer like the
Cap'n--no, nor never will be--nohow!" said the Bo'sun with a solemn
nod.
"God bless him, eh, Jerry?"
"Amen to that, my Lord."
"You'll let him know I said 'God bless him,' Jerry?"
"I will, my Lord, ay, ay, God bless him it is, Master Horatio!"
"Now as to my Roman--my father, Jerry, tell him--er--"
"Be you still set on squaring away for London, then, sir?"
"As a rock, Jerry, as a rock!"
"Then 't is 'good-by,' you're wishing me?"
"Yes, 'good-by,' Jerry, remember 'God bless Uncle John,'
and--er--tell my father that--ah, what the deuce shall you tell him
now?--it should be something a little affecting--wholly dutiful, and
above all gently dignified--hum! Ah, yes--tell him that whether I
win or lose the race, whether I break my unworthy neck or no, I
shall never forget that I am the Earl of Bamborough's son. And as
for you, Jerry, why, I shall always think of you as the jolly old
sea dog who used to stoop down to let me get at his whiskers, they
were a trifle blacker in those days.
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