"What's he like, Martin, this Mr. Jermyn?"
"A tall man, with a beard," I answered. I thought it wrong to
mention that I knew the beard to be false. "He's always stroking
the bridge of his nose with his hand."
"Ha," my uncle said, as though recognizing the trait. "But with a
beard, you tell me?"
"Yes, sir. With a beard."
"H'm," he answered, musing, "I must have a look at this Mr.
Jermyn. Remember, Martin, you're to have nothing more to do with
him, till I know a little more of what he is. You understand?"
"Yes, uncle."
"One cannot be too careful in this town. I won't allow you in the
streets, Martin. No matter who has his pockets picked. I told you
that before."
"Please, uncle, may I go on the river, then, if I'm not to go
into the street? I'm used to boats."
"Yes. You may do that. But you're not to go on board the ships,
mind."
"Beg pardon, sir," Ephraim put in. "The fall at the Bridge is
very risky, sir."
"It is?" said my uncle, testily. "Then of course you can't go in
a boat, Martin. You must play in the garden, or read."
CHAPTER II. I LEAVE HOME AGAIN
I thought Ephraim a pig for putting in that word about the fall.
Though I had only known Ephraim for a few days I disliked him
perhaps as much as he disliked me. He was angry (I could feel it)
at having a boy in the house, after many years of quiet alone
with my uncle. I know that when he had occasion to speak to me,
he always went away muttering about my being a charity brat who
ought to be in the poor-house.
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