This piece of information, to Mr. Riddle's plain discomfiture, was
greeted with a roar of laughter, Mr. Darnley himself laughing loudest.
Nor were these gentlemen satisfied with that. They crowded around Mr.
Riddle and slapped him on the back, Mr. Darnley joining in with the rest.
And presently Mr. Riddle flung away his sword, and laughed, too, giving
his hand to Mr. Darnley.

At length Mr. Darnley turned to Nick, who had stood all this while behind
them, unmoved.

"My friend," said he, seriously, "such is your regard for human life, you
will probably one day--be a pirate or an outlaw. This time we've had a
laugh. The next time somebody will be weeping. I wish I were your
father."

"I wish you were," said Nick.

This took Mr. Darnley's breath. He glanced at the other gentlemen, who
returned his look significantly. He laid his hand kindly on the lad's
head.

"Nick," said he, "I wish to God I were your father."

After that they all went home, very merry, to breakfast, Nick and I
coming after them. Nick was silent until we reached the house.

"Davy," said he, then, "how old are you?"

"Ten," I answered. "How old did you believe me?"