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Updated: June 3, 2025
Chase was immediately made, it being supposed it was the galleon's light. Great was their disappointment when morning broke to discover that it was underwood or stubble burning on the side of a lofty mountain, which, seen at the immense distance at which it was discovered, appeared no larger than an ordinary ship's light.
The galley, with the flag of Spain fluttering at her ensign staff, and a banner, bearing some emblazonment which George could not very well distinguish, streaming from her masthead, suddenly ceased pulling, the slaves resting upon their oars and raising the dripping blades high above the water; and a few seconds later a puff of white smoke burst from her bows, the report of her culverin boomed across the water, and the shot flew whirring athwart the galleon's bows, striking the water some twenty yards to leeward.
Meanwhile the calm had imperceptibly spread outward from the shore until it extended a good mile beyond the galleon, where it ended abruptly against a dark blue line showing where the sea-breeze was struggling to conquer the calm and force its way shoreward. George now turned his attention to matters nearer at hand, and allowed his gaze to wander over the galleon's spacious decks.
When Henry Bohun came in he was surprised at the brightness of everything. "Why, how cosy you are!" he cried. "Ah, ha," I said, "I told you it wasn't so bad here." He picked up my books, looked at Galleon's Roads and then Pride and Prejudice. "It's the simplest things that last," he said. "Galleon's jolly good, but he's not simple enough.
He could scarcely see her in the dark but her pale blue dress and her dark eyes and her beautiful white hands her little figure danced against the dark, shining floor like a fairy's. He heard her sigh of relief at Alice Galleon's return. "Oh! thank you, dear, so much. Good-bye, Mr. Westcott I shall read the book." She was gone. "Lights! Lights!" cried Alice Galleon.
Lazarus' death, recalling, above all, to himself every slightest incident of his meeting with Miss Rossiter, Peter, crossing Oxford Street, flung his broad body against a fat and soft one. There was nearly a collapse. The other man and Peter grasped arms to steady themselves, and then behold! the fat body was Bobby Galleon's. Bobby Galleon, after all these years!
What I most feared was that somebody on board one or another of the many craft that were anchored in our immediate vicinity might notice the operation of loosing and setting the galleon's canvas, and suspecting something to be wrong, man a boat and go ashore to give the alarm; in which case we should soon have three or four swift galleys after us; when we were likely enough to find ourselves in an exceedingly awkward scrape.
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