"He thinks of returning to his family," said I.

Roland, who had seemed dozing, winced uneasily.

"Who returns to his family?" asked the Captain.

"Why, you must know," said my father, "that Sisty has fished up a friend
of whom he can give no account that would satisfy a policeman, and whose
fortunes he thinks himself under the necessity of protecting. You are
very lucky that he has not picked your pockets, Sisty; but I dare say he
has. What's his name?"

"Vivian," said I,--"Francis Vivian."

"A good name and a Cornish," said my father. "Some derive it from the
Romans,--Vivianus; others from a Celtic word which means--"

"Vivian!" interrupted Roland. "Vivian!--I wonder if it be the son of
Colonel Vivian."

"He is certainly a gentleman's son," said I; "but he never told me what
his family and connections were."

"Vivian," repeated my uncle,--"poor Colonel Vivian! So the young man is
going to his father. I have no doubt it is the same. Ah!--"

"What do you know of Colonel Vivian or his son?" said I. "Pray, tell
me; I am so interested in this young man."

"I know nothing of either, except by gossip," said my uncle, moodily.