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Updated: May 17, 2025
Butler who was always of a nice taste in wine, and who was coming into some knowledge of Port from his residence in the country had never dreamed existed. For four and twenty hours the dragoons abode at Mr. Bearsley's quinta, thanking God for the discomforts that had brought them to such comfort, feasting in this land of plenty as only those can feast who have kept a rigid Lent. Nor was this all.
"For God's sake, less of your Richard! It's all the world will be hearing you. Can you hide me, do you think, for a day or two? If you can't, I'll be after shifting for myself as best I can. I've been playing the part of an English overseer from Bearsley's wine farm, and it has brought me all the way from the Douro in safety.
Bearsley's steward, a portly, genial, rather priestly gentleman in smooth black broadcloth, whose name was Souza a name which, as I have said, has given rise to some misconceptions. Mr. Bearsley himself had lately left for England, there to wait until the disturbed state of Portugal should be happily repaired.
And, after all, for our purposes surely no hour could be more suitable. If I come for Dick at midnight tomorrow that will just give us time to get him snugly aboard before she sails. I have made all arrangements with Glennie. He believes Dick to be what he has represented himself one of Bearsley's overseers named Jenkinson, who is a friend of mine and who must be got out of the country quietly.
Bearsley's steward being a man of extremely temperate habit, it follow: that most of the wine had found its way down the lieutenant's thirsty gullet. It was perhaps a more potent vintage than he had at first suspected, and as the torpor produced by the dinner and the earlier, fuller wine was wearing off, it was succeeded by an exhilaration that played havoc with the few wits that Mr.
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