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"Great Scott, if it isn't young Dot-and-carry-One!" exclaimed Mr Sardanapalus Buskin, as the slim figure of Austin, in his simple evening-dress, appeared at the entrance. "Come in, young gentleman, come in. So you've come to beard the lion in his den, have you? Well, it's kind of you not to have forgotten. You're welcome, very welcome.
The old man's face became fiery red and then deathly pale. He looked helplessly and pitifully from side to side. "Wind him up!" shouted a voice. "He's stopped short, never to go again," called another. "He's an old fraud, and his show's a fake!" "Speech! speech!" "No; a song! Let old dot-and-carry-one give us a song!" "Oh, shut up! Don't you see he's a ballet-dancer?"
Buonespoir looked to the priming of his pistols, and buckling his belt tightly about him, turned to the Seigneur and said: "I will take my chances with Abednego. Where does she lie the Honeyflower, Abednego?" "Off the point called Verclut," answered the little man, who had travelled with Francis Drake. "Good; we will make a run for it, flying dot-and-carry-one as we go."
'Let us go into the vestry, Gabriel, I wish to speak to you. Oh, you needn't look so scared; there's nobody about, now that old Dot-and-carry-one has gone' this last in allusion to Jarper's lameness. 'Bell, please, don't use such language, remonstrated Gabriel, as he conducted her into the vestry; 'someone might hear.
But when I laid eyes on old Dot-and-carry-one there, and when he grabbed into this thing the way he did just as I was thinkin' hard of what Colonel Gid Ward has done to me, it came over me that I was goin' to find a use for him." "How?" persisted the utilitarian Hiram. "Don't have the least idea," confessed the Cap'n.
"Great Scott! Young Dot-and-carry-One!" he muttered, but so low that no one heard him. He now advanced a pace or two, and cleared his throat. "I have certainly had the honour of meeting this young gentleman before," he said, in his most stately manner. "He was even kind enough to present me with his card, but I fear I did not pay as much attention to the name as it deserved.
Buonespoir looked to the priming of his pistols, and buckling his belt tightly about him, turned to the Seigneur and said: "I will take my chances with Abednego. Where does she lie the Honeyflower, Abednego?" "Off the point called Verclut," answered the little man, who had travelled with Francis Drake. "Good; we will make a run for it, flying dot-and-carry-one as we go."
No passions or emotions now affected him; but their memory created an atmosphere of puzzledom. He had to adjust values. He had to deputize for Destiny. He also had to harmonize the pathetically absurd with the grimly real. He took off his cap and scratched his cropped head. After a while he damned something indefinite and hastened in his dot-and-carry-one fashion to the van.
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