SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 192 | Next

Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"The Mayor of Troy"

I have paid you, it appears, too high a
compliment in assuming that you would understand what follows when a
gentleman is called the son of a--!"
Mr. Sturge shrugged his shoulders and walked forward to seek Ben
Jope, whom he found by the forecastle hatchway engaged in slicing a
quid of black tobacco.
"You'll excuse me," he asked, "but that rum little man who calls
himself Hymen--where did he escape from?"
"Escape!" Ben Jope sprang to his feet, but catching sight of the
Major, who had resumed his pensive attitude by the bulwarks, sat down
again heavily. "Lord, but you frightened me! That Hymen don't
escape; not if I know it. He's the apple of my eye, or becoming so.
Now I tell you," said Mr. Jope, beginning to slice again at his
tobacco, then pausing to look up with engaging frankness; "you took
my fancy terrible for a few minutes; but, come to see you by
daylight, you're too pink."
Mr. Sturge might have pressed for an explanation; but at this
juncture the first lieutenant of H.M.S. _Poseidon_ came forward,
still with his painted scowl, and demanded to know, since the
_Vesuvius_ could not reach Portsmouth for many hours, when supper
would be served, and what bedroom accommodation she provided.

CHAPTER XVI.
FAREWELL TO ALBION!
Shortly after noon next day, the wind still holding from the N.N.W.,
though gradually falling light, the _Vesuvius_ dropped anchor off
Spithead, and Captain Crang at once ordered a boat's crew to convey
the captives ashore.


Pages:
180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204