10 THE AFRICAN TRADER.

most of his life lived in Jamaica, where I was
born, and from whence I had a few years before
accompanied him to England to go to school.

‘I am sorry we shall not see you back Bay-
ford,’ said the good doctor, as he shook me warmly
by the hand. ‘May our heavenly Father protect
you, my boy, wherever you go.’

‘I hope to go as a midshipman on board a
man-of-war, sir, I answered. ‘My father expects
to get me appointed to a ship this summer, and I
suppose that is the reason I am leaving.’

The doctor looked kindly and somewhat sadly
at me. ‘You must not, Harry, raise your hopes
on that point too high,’ he answered, in a grave
tone. ‘When I last heard from your father, saying
he desired to remove you, he was very unwell, 1
grieve to have to say this, but it is better that you
should be prepared for evil tidings. God bless you
Harry Bayford. The coach will soon be up; I
must not detain you longer.’

The doctor again warmly wrung my hand.

I hastened after Peter the porter, who was
wheeling my trunk down to the village inn where
the coach stopped, and I had just time to mount on
the top when the guard cried out, ‘ All right;’ the