In Search of an Unknown Race — page 108: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

have known to be his son even had your coming not been foreseen,” he went on, ‘‘ you are i ‘‘Vance Briscoe, Uncle Richard,” was the reply, ina voice which trembled never so slightly as he intently returned the cordial hand clasp given him by Mr. Briscoe, who then quickly addressed himself to the sailor. ‘Martin, I’m glad, though not surprised, to see you back,” he said, quietly. ‘‘I fancy,” he added, with a keen glance at the sailor’s slightly embarrassed face, ‘that you didn’t find much pleasure, or profit, either, in going back into the world.” ‘We won't speak of that, Mr. Briscoe,” hurriedly re- turned Martin, over whose bronzed face a flush of shame had passed; ‘‘itis enough that I am back, and never want to go outside the city walls till I'm carried out, toes first, to the burial cave.” Mr. Briscoe smiled, and shrugged his shoulders, with- out replying directly. ‘‘Well, Martin,” he said, ‘‘ you’d better take your companion to the house with you, and to-morrow [ll hear your story—or so much of it as you wish to tell— adios.” Thus saying, Mr. Briscoe with rather scant ceremony turned away. Leaving the two men to follow at their leisure, he took Van gently by the arm, and walked away precisely as he would if he had met him in any 0% our great cities. ‘‘There are a thousand questions to ask and answer, my dear boy,” he said, gravely returning the respectful salutations of one after another of those who were pass- ing and repassing; “but there is abundant time for it GomMmichbooks