The uncle and lawyer were come together now. It was
to make a last offer to Fernando; Mr. Alfred Travis offered to take
him up to London the next day, and there to have advice as to the
safety of the voyage, in the meantime letting him be baptized, if
nothing else would satisfy him, but by some London clergyman--not one
of the Bexley set whom the uncle regarded with such aversion.
Fernando drew himself up, and stood, leaning on the end of the sofa.
'Thank you, uncle,' he said, 'I cannot. I am obeying my father now,
and I will not leave those to whom he trusted me.'
There followed a volley of abuse of his English obstinacy and Spanish
pride and canting conceit, which made Mr. Bruce stand aghast, and
Fernando look up with burning cheeks and eyes glowing like hot coals;
but with the Indian impassibility he did not speak till Alfred Travis
had threatened him not only with his father's displeasure, but with
being cast off by both, and left to his English friends' charity.
'My father will not!' said Fernando. 'If he sends for me I will
come.' But there his strength suddenly collapsed, and he was forced
to sit down and lean back.
'Well, Fernan,' said his uncle, suddenly withdrawing his attempt when
he found it vain, 'you seem hardly in marching order, so I'm off by
the night train; but if you change your mind in the next week, write
to me at Peter Brown's--you know--and I'll run down.
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