Read Ebook: Syd Belton: The Boy Who Would Not Go to Sea by Fenn George Manville Browne Gordon Illustrator

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Ebook has 3992 lines and 101288 words, and 80 pages

deed you will not," said the admiral, "for I'll call in old Marchant from Lowerport."

"Not you," cried the doctor, laughing; "you dare not. I'm the only man who understands your constitution."

"There, there, there!" cried the captain, "that's enough. But really, sir, it's too bad. As an old friend I did not think you would lead my boy astray."

"I? Astray? Nonsense!"

"But you have, sir. You've taken him out with you on your rounds, and the young dog thinks of nothing else but doctoring."

"And pill-boxes and gallipots," said the admiral, fiercely.

"Now, my dear old friends, you are not talking sense," said the doctor, quietly. "Sydney has been my rounds with me a good deal, and he has certainly displayed so much interest in all my surgical cases, that if he were my boy I should certainly make him a doctor."

"Impossible!" cried the captain.

"Not to be heard of," said Sir Thomas. "He's going to sea."

Sydney, who had been fidgeting about in his chair, gave a sudden kick out with his right leg, and felt something soft as his uncle uttered a savage yell, and thrust his chair back from the table.

"I--I beg your pardon, uncle, I did not know that--"

"You did, sir," cried the old man furiously, as he shook his fist at the boy. "You did it maliciously; out of spite, because I want to make a man of you. Bless me, Harry," he continued, "if you don't take that young scoundrel out into the hall and thrash him, I'll never darken your doors again. Dear--dear--dear--dear! Bless my soul! Ah!"

The poor old admiral had risen, and was limping about when Sydney went after him.

"Uncle," he began.

"Bah!" ejaculated the old man, grasping him by the collar. "Here he is, brother Harry; I've got him. Now then, take him out."

"I'm very sorry, uncle," said Sydney. "I didn't know it was your gouty leg there."

"Then, you did do it on purpose, sir?"

"No, I didn't, uncle. I wouldn't have been such a coward."

"Of course he wouldn't," said the doctor. "But there, sir, sit down; the pain is gone off now."

"How do you know?" cried the admiral. "It's as if ten thousand red-hot irons were searing it. Harry, you've spoiled that boy."

"No, I join issue there," said Captain Belton. "You've indulged him ten times more than ever I have, Tom."

"It is not true, brother Harry," said the admiral, limping to his chair.

"Oh yes, it is. Hasn't your uncle spoiled you, Sydney, far more than I have?"

"No, father," replied the boy, quietly, as he helped the old admiral to sit down, and placed an ottoman under his injured leg.

"Thankye, boy, thankye. And you're not so bad as I said; 'tis quite true, it's your father's doing."

"I think you've both spoiled me," said Sydney, quietly; and the doctor helped himself to another glass of port to hide his mirth.

"Won't do, Liss, you're laughing. I can see you," said the admiral. "That's just what you doctors enjoy, seeing other people suffer, so that you may laugh and grow fat."

"Oh, I was not laughing at your pain," said the doctor, quietly, "but at Sydney's judgment. He is quite right, you do both spoil him."

"What?"

"He has three times as much money to spend as is right, and I wonder he does not waste it more. Well, Syd, my boy, so they will not let you be a doctor?"

Sydney frowned, and cracked a walnut till the shell and nut were all crushed together.

"And so you are to make up your mind to go to sea?"

"Yes," said the admiral, emphatically.

"Certainly," said Captain Belton; and, as soon after the conversation turned into political matters, Sydney quietly left his chair, strolled to the window, and stood gazing out at the estuary upon which the captain's house looked down.

It was a glorious view. The long stretch of water was dappled with orange and gold; and here and there the great men-of-war were lying at anchor, some waiting their commanders; others, whose sea days were past, waiting patiently for their end, sent along dark shadows behind them. Here and there fishing-boats with tawny sails were putting out to sea for the night's fishing; and as Sydney's eyes wandered, a frown settled upon his forehead, and he stepped out through the open window into the garden.

"Bother the old sea!" he said, petulantly. "It's always sea, sea, sea, from morning till night. I don't want to go, and I won't."

As he spoke he passed under an apple tree, one of whose fruit, missed in the gathering a month before, had dropped, and picking it up, the boy relieved his feelings by throwing it with all his might across the garden.

The effect was as sudden as that produced by his kick; for there was a shout and sound of feet rapidly approaching, and a red-faced boy of about his own age came into sight, hatless and breathless, panting, wild-eyed, and with fists clenched ready for assault.

"Who threw--Oh, it was you, was it, Master Sydney? You coward!"

"Who's a coward?" cried Sydney, hotly.

"You are. You throwed that apple and hit me, 'cause you knowed I dursen't hit you again."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did, and you are a coward."

"No, I'm not a coward."

"Yes, you are. If I hit you, I know what you'd do--go and tell your father, and get me sent away."

"There, then! Does that feel like a coward's blow?--or that?--or that?"

Three sharp cuffs in the chest illustrated Sydney's words, two of which the boy bore, flinching at each; but rising beyond endurance by the third, he retaliated with one so well planted that Sydney went down in a sitting position, but in so elastic a fashion that he was up again on the instant, and flew at the giver of the blow.

Then for five minutes there was a sharp encounter, with its accompaniments of hard breathing, muttering, dull sounds of blows and scuffling feet, till a broad-shouldered, red-faced man in a serge apron came down upon them at a trot, and securing each by the shoulder held them apart.

"Now then," he growled, "what's this here?"

"Pan hit me, and I'm dressing him down," panted Sydney. "Here, let go, Barney."

"Master Syd hit me first, father," panted the red-faced boy.

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