United States or Montenegro ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"No," he said, when some chance remark from Royson had elicited this curious fact, "she's a stranger to me. Me an' Tagg Tagg is my first mate, you see had just left the Chirria when she was sold to the Germans out of the East Indian trade, an' we was lookin' about for wot might turn up when the man who chartered the Aphrodite put us on to this job.
"Baron von Kerber bestowed that name on me, but he acted under a misapprehension. My name is Royson." "How odd! How excessively odd!" Mrs. Haxton seemed to forget her fear of the gangway. Advancing with sure and easy tread she gave Dick his telegram. And he was conscious, during one unhappy minute, that Irene, and Captain Stump, and Mr. Fenshawe, each in varying degree, shared Mrs.
Poverty and anxiety can throw even a Napoleon out of gear, but Richard Royson was hard as granite in some ways, and the mere decision to go to South Africa had driven the day's distempered broodings from his mind. "I thought I heard the officer who spoke to you in Buckingham Palace Road address you as King," explained von Kerber. "Yes, that is true," admitted Royson.
The Well of Moses lies down there," and the Arab, more by force of habit than because Royson could see him in that gloomy defile, threw out his chin towards the east. Suddenly, it struck Royson that provided he had guessed aright, the Roman Legion which sacked Saba must have marched over this identical spot, in their effort to reach the Nile.
Still, the affair wore an ugly look, and tired though he was, Fenshawe had no thought of rest until the contradictory elements of a most perplexing business were sifted. He was seated near the fire with Royson and Stump. Irene had gone to Mrs. Haxton the instant she heard Dick's tragic story. "Has Mrs. Haxton thrown any light on events?" Fenshawe asked. "You say she was completely broken down.
"Don't you dare bring me out here in order to pay compliments." "Indeed, I am but stating the bare truth to your face." "If you persist, then, I shall be compelled to act the part of a gipsy and tell your fortune, and I warn you that it will not be very cheerful hearing." Royson gazed beyond her towards a white mist which shrouded the eastern horizon.
Though the night was clear, and neighboring objects were quite discernible, Royson failed to pierce the further darkness. He strained his eyes, but could see nothing, while the Arab seemed to have a sixth sense which warned him that there were others near. They pulled up, and listened.
The gloom of the station, and the fact that the man's face was in shadow, made him doubtful, but as the train gathered speed, the watcher on the platform nodded to him and smiled derisively. Captain Stump had quick eyes. He turned to Royson. "Beg pardon, mister, but is that a friend of yours?" he asked. "No," said Dick. "Well, he was signalin' somebody, an' it wasn't me."
You pretend that you see nothing, whereas I am sure you see more than I, but you refuse to speak." Royson seemed to be singularly unaffected by this outburst. He caught the angry flush on the girl's forehead, and, as was his way when the stubborn fit seized him, threw his head back, with lips set. Irene stole a look at him, and laughed constrainedly. "Very well.
They had not exchanged many words since that memorable night in the canal, and the penetrating look in the girl's eyes warned Royson now that she was about to say something not meant for others to hear. "You have not forgotten?" she murmured. "No," he answered. "When we go ashore you must come with us." "How can I make sure of that?" "Ask Captain Stump to send you in charge of the boat.
Word Of The Day