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Updated: April 30, 2025
Captain McBean, healthily red and brown, showed no sign of having been out of bed all night. From cold water and a razor in his own lodgings he came back at a round pace to St. Martin's Lane. He found his aide, Mr. Mackenzie, taking the air on the doorstep of the Blue House, and rebuked him. "I bade ye bide with the lad, Donald." "The surgeon has him in hand, sir." "Tiens.
"You concern yourself with the affairs of my family. I resent it, Captain McBean." "I believe you, mon vieux." "You have done me a notable service to-night and I am ready to forget the older injuries, your ill offices with my son. Let us call quits and part, sir." "It won't do," said McBean with a grin. "What now, sir?"
My sympathy is in your way," and he made his bow and was going off. "Mordieu, you relieve me marvellously," says McBean, and O'Connor put his back against the door. Mr. Waverton waved O'Connor aside. "You'll be Mr. Waverton?" said O'Connor. "Od's life, sir, stand out of my way." But O'Connor laughed and McBean tapped the magnificent shoulder. Mr. Waverton swung round.
"Look you here, McBean," said Lyon, pointing to the chart which lay on the table; "Captain Cuffe has just run down off Piane, and will find himself well to leeward when the west wind comes to-morrow; Sir Frederick has followed famously clear of the land, and won't be in a much better box. Now, this lugger must be pretty picking if all they say of her be true. Ten to one but she has gold in her.
What of the young one?" Mr. Rolfe pursed his lip. "Faith, there's no more amiss. But but why, he was hard hit, I grant you but you might take the young one for the old one. D'ye follow me? The lad hath no vigour in him." McBean nodded. "I'll be talking to him, by your leave." "Od's life, I would not talk long. I don't like it, Captain, and there's the truth. Go easy with him.
Alison came nearer Captain McBean. "Sir, this is a confection of lies. It is true the man told me he was planning a watch on Mr. Boyce. But not of my will. And when I knew I did instantly give Mr. Boyce warning." "I shall deal with you in good time," McBean frowned. "Dieu de dieu! I do not excuse you. Attention, Waverton! You lie stupidly. Your bullies, mordieu, blunder in your own style.
They heard the wheels of the coach and marched out. Alison was coming downstairs with Mrs. Weston. "What now?" says McBean glowering. "Do you need a duenna to watch you with your husband?" "Madame is Harry's mother, sir," Alison said. For once Captain McBean was disconcerted. "A thousand pardons," says he, and with much ceremony put Mrs. Weston into the coach.
"A splendid wild cat and that mouse of a Harry," says he. Captain McBean was strutting to and fro for the benefit of his impatience when Mr. O'Connor returned to him. "Patrick, you look morose. Had he the legs of you?" "He had not," says O'Connor, nursing his hand. "But he had a beautiful nose. Sure, it was harder than you would think. And I have sprained my thumb." "What, did he fight?"
Suppose there were a village composed entirely of McIntyres and McIntoshes, and suppose that fashion compelled every McIntyre to marry a McIntosh, and every McIntosh a McIntyre, whilst to marry an outsider, say a McBean, was bad form for McIntyres and McIntoshes alike; then the two clans would be exogamous in respect to each other, whereas the village as a whole would be endogamous.
Waverton rides over sometimes to the Hall at Highgate. Miss Lam Mrs. Boyce's house;" the butler looked knowing. "Mrs. Boyce? Eh, is that Colonel Boyce's lady?" The butler smiled discreetly. "No, sir, to be sure. Young Boyce young Mr. Boyce, sir." Captain McBean wheeled round in such a hurry that the butler was almost overthrown. They clattered off.
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