Hereupon Barnabas caught his
hand, and shook it again, and laughed for very happiness.
"Bo'sun, how can I thank you!" said he, "these letters have given me
new hope--new life! and--and here I leave you to stand, dolt that I
am! And with nothing to drink, careless fool that I am. Sit down, man,
sit down--what will you take, wine? brandy?"
"Mr. Beverley, sir," replied the Bo'sun diffidently, accepting the
chair that Barnabas dragged forward, "you're very kind, sir, but if
I might make so bold,--a glass of ale, sir--?"
"Ale!" cried Barnabas. "A barrel if you wish!" and he tugged at the
bell, at whose imperious summons the Gentleman-in-Powder appearing
with leg-quivering promptitude, Barnabas forthwith demanded
"Ale,--the best, and plenty of it! And pray ask Mr. Peterby to come
here at once!" he added.
"Sir," said the Bo'sun as the door closed, "you'll be for steering a
course for Hawkhurst, p'r'aps?"
"We shall start almost immediately," said Barnabas, busily
collecting those scattered sheets of paper that littered floor and
table; thus he was wholly unaware of the look that clouded the
sailor's honest visage.
Pages:
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494