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This here gentleman we picked up outside Falmouth; perhaps he've told you." Captain Seccombe stared at me, and I at Captain Seccombe. Reuben Colenso stood wringing his cap. At length the American found breath enough to whistle. "I'll have to put back to Boston about this, though it's money out of pocket. This here's a matter for Commodore Bainbridge. Take a seat, Mr. Colenso."
Miss Seccombe and I did not hold our communications in French; and, observing her disposition to substitute the warmer language of the glances, I took the bull by the horns, told her my secret, and rhapsodised on Flora. Consequently no Nausicaa figures in this Odyssey of mine.
The passage where Ardry and his French mistress talk to Borrow, she using her own language, is like "The Sentimental Journey." And, as Mr. Seccombe has suggested, Borrow found in Sterne's a precedent for the rate of progress in his autobiography. But innumerable are the possible styles which combine something from the Bible, Defoe, and Sterne, with something else upon a Victorian foundation.
And here I made my bow to Miss Amelia Seccombe, an accomplished young lady, "who," said her doating father, "has acquired a considerable proficiency in French, and will be glad to swap ideas with you in that language."
In 1770 he had once more to take refuge from overwork on the sunny coast he had done so much to popularize among his countrymen, and it was near Leghorn that he died on 17th September 1771. THOMAS SECCOMBE. ACTON, May 1907. BOULOGNE SUR MER, June 23, 1763.
We got her for eleven hundred, with the guns, and the repairs may have cost a hundred and fifty; but you'll find the account-books in the cupboard there. Father had a matter of five hundred laid by, and a little over." Captain Seccombe removed his legs from the cabin-table, tilted his chair forward and half rose in his seat. "You bought her?"
Blood from a scalp-wound had run and caked on his right cheek, but he stepped squarely enough. "Bring him below," Captain Seccombe commanded. "And you, Mr. What's-your-name, lead the way. It's one or the other of us will get the hang of this affair." He seated himself at the head of the table in the main cabin, and spat ceremoniously on the floor.
"Now, sir: you are, or were, first officer of this brig?" The prisoner, standing between his two guards, gripped his stocking cap nervously. "Will you please to tell me, sir, if my father is killed?" "Seth, my lad, I want room." One of the guards, a strapping youngster, stepped and flung open a pane of the stern window. Captain Seccombe spat out of it with nonchalant dexterity before answering
In this hope at least the flag which he had hauled down covered his body still as we committed it to the sea, its service or disservice done. Two days later we anchored in the great harbour at Boston, where Captain Seccombe went with his story and his prisoners to Commodore Bainbridge, who kept them pending news of Commodore Rodgers.
The Commodore allowed Captain Seccombe to detain me while the French consul made inquiry into my story; and during the two months which the consul thought fit to take over it, I was a guest in the captain's house.
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