"Good God!" broke in the old man. "You don't know for sure--you're twenty-five years old, and you don't know where you're going!"
"Yes, I know where I'm going--to Heaven by and by!" This was his satirical reply.
"Oh, fasten down; get hold of something that matters. Now, listen to me. I want you to do one thing--the thing I ought to do and can't. I must stay here now that Fabian's gone. I want you to go to the Madawaska River."
"No, I won't go to the Madawaska," replied Carnac after a long pause, "but"--with sudden resolution--"if it's any good to you, I'll stay here in the business, and you can go to the Madawaska. Show me what to do here; tell me how to do it, and I'll try to help you out for a while--if it can be done," he added hastily. "You go, but I'll stay. Let's talk it over at supper."
He sighed, and turned and gazed warmly at the sunset on the roofs of the city; then turned to his father's face, but it was not the same look in his eyes.