“Oh, you needn’t do that!” said Saltash, with kindly derision.  “Thanks all the same, my turkey-cock!  If I ever need your protection I’ll be sure to ask for it.”  He flicked the young face with his finger.  “But you’re not to follow my example, mind.  You’ve got to run straight.  You’re young enough to make it worth while, and—­I’ll see you have a chance.”

“But you’ll keep me with you, sir,” said Toby swiftly.  “You’ll keep me—­always—­with you!”

“Ah!” Saltash’s brows twisted oddly for a second.  He seemed to ponder the matter.  “I can’t say off-hand what I’m going to do with you,” he said.  “You’re—­a bit of a problem, you know, Toby.”

“Yes, sir.  I know.  I know.”  Toby’s voice was quick with agitation.  “But you won’t send me away from you!  Promise you won’t send me away!”

“Can’t promise anything,” said Saltash.  “Look here!  I think there’s been enough of this.  You’d better go to bed.”

But Toby was clinging fast to his hand.  He spoke between quivering lips.  “Please, sir, you said you’d bought me body and soul.  You can’t mean to chuck me away—­after that!  Please, sir, I’ll do anything—­anything under the sun—­for you.  And you—­you can kick me—­do anything to me—­and I’ll never say a word.  I’m just yours—­for as long as I live.  Please, sir—­please, sir—­don’t send me away!  I—­I’d rather die than that.”

He laid his head suddenly down upon the hand he held so tenaciously and began to sob, fighting desperately to stifle all sound.

Saltash sat for a few moments in utter silence and immobility.  Then, abruptly, in a tense whisper, he spoke: 

“Toby, you little fool, stop it—­stop it, do you hear?—­and go below!”

The words held a queer urgency.  He raised himself as he uttered them, seeking to free his hand though with all gentleness from the clinging clasp.

“Get up, boy!” he said.  “Get up and go to bed!  What?  Oh, don’t cry!  Pull yourself together!  Toby, do you hear?”

Toby lifted a white, strained face.  His eyes looked enormous in the dim light.  “Yes, sir.  All right, sir,” he jerked out, and stumbled trembling to his feet.  “I know I’m a fool, sir.  I’m sorry.  I can’t help it.  No one was ever decent to me—­till you came.  I—­shall just go under now, sir.”

“Oh, stop it!” Saltash spoke almost violently.  “Can’t you see—­that’s just what I want to prevent?  You don’t want to go to the devil, I suppose?”

Toby made a passionate gesture that was curiously unboylike.  “I’d go to hell and stay there for ever—­if you were there!” he said.

“Good God!” said Saltash.

He got up in his sudden fashion and moved away, went to the rail and stood there for a space with his face to the rippling sheen of water.  Finally he turned and looked at the silent figure waiting beside his chair, and a very strange smile came over his dark features.  He came back, not without a certain arrogance, and tapped Toby on the shoulder.