which was much wanted for the extension
of the business, and that Herbert in his new partnership capacity would
go out and take charge of it, I found that I must have prepared for
a separation from my friend, even though my own affairs had been more
settled. And now, indeed, I felt as if my last anchor were loosening its
hold, and I should soon be driving with the winds and waves.

But there was recompense in the joy with which Herbert would come home
of a night and tell me of these changes, little imagining that he told
me no news, and would sketch airy pictures of himself conducting Clara
Barley to the land of the Arabian Nights, and of me going out to join
them (with a caravan of camels, I believe), and of our all going up the
Nile and seeing wonders. Without being sanguine as to my own part in
those bright plans, I felt that Herbert's way was clearing fast, and
that old Bill Barley had but to stick to his pepper and rum, and his
daughter would soon be happily provided for.

We had now got into the month of March. My left arm, though it presented
no bad symptoms, took, in the natural course, so long to heal that I
was still unable to get a coat on. My right arm was tolerably restored;
disfigured, but fairly serviceable.

On a Monday morning, when Herbert and I were at breakfast, I received
the following letter from Wemmick by the post.

"Walworth. Burn this as soon as read. Early in the week, or say
Wednesday, you might do what you know of, if you felt disposed to try
it. Now burn."

When I had shown this to Herbert and had put it in the fire--but not
before we had both got it by heart--we considered what to do. For, of
course my being disabled could now be no longer kept out of view.

"I have thought it over again and again," said Herbert, "and I think I
know a better course than taking a Thames waterman. Take Startop. A good
fellow, a skilled hand, fond of us, and enthusiastic and honorable."

I had thought of him more than once.

"But how much would you tell him, Herbert?"

"It is necessary to tell him very little. Let him suppose it a mere
freak, but a secret one, until the morning comes: then let him know that
there is urgent reason for your getting Provis aboard and away. You go
with him?"

"No doubt."

"Where?"

It had seemed to me, in the many anxious considerations I had given the
point, almost indifferent what port we made for,--Hamburg, Rotterdam,
Antwerp,--the place signified little, so th