"Your very humble, obedient servant, sir," said he.
"Ha! by Thor and Odin, so it's you again, is it, sir? Pray, what
brings you still so far from the fashionable world? What d'ye want,
sir, eh, sir?"
"Briefly, sir," answered Barnabas, "your ward."
"Eh--what? what?" cried the Captain.
"Sir," returned Barnabas, "since you are the Lady Cleone's lawful
guardian, it is but right to tell you that I hope to marry her--some
day."
"Marry!" exclaimed the Captain. "Marry my--damme, sir, but you're
cool--I say cool and devilish impudent, and--and--oh, Gad, Cleone!"
"My dear," said she, smiling and stroking her tyrant's shaven cheek,
"why distress ourselves, we can always refuse him, can't we?"
"Ay, to be sure, so we can," nodded the Captain, "but oh! sink
me,--I say sink and scuttle me, the audacity of it! I say he's
a cool, impudent, audacious fellow!"
"Yes, dear, indeed I think he's all that," said my lady, nodding her
head at Barnabas very decidedly, "and I forgot to tell you that
beside all this, he is the--gentleman who--saved me from my folly
to-night, and brought me back to you."
"Eh? eh?" cried the Captain, staring.
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