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Colville got himself out of the comfort and quiet of Mrs. Bowen's house as soon as he could. He made the more haste because he felt that if he could have remained with the smallest trace of self-respect, he would have been glad to stay there for ever.
Bowen's crew dispersing, Captain White went to Methelage, where he lived ashore with the king, not having an opportunity of getting off the island, till another pirate ship, called the Prosperous, commanded by one Howard, who had been bred a lighterman on the river Thames, came in.
Bowen's bell, and Effie sprang up the stairs before them to give her mother the news of Mr. Colville's coming, the girl stole her hand into his. "Shall you tell her?" "Of course. She must know without an instant's delay." "Yes, yes; that is right. Oh! Shall I go with you?" "Yes; come!" Mrs.
"I think I understand that," he said. He glanced at the list. "It's even shorter than I thought." "You notice, one-third of the stock's tied up in the Wentworth estate," said Tavistock. "Yes. And here's the name of Bowen's dividend clerk. Bowen is traveling in the far East.
The adventures of these pirates on this coast are already set down in Captain Bowen's life, to which I refer the reader, and shall only observe, that Captain White was all this time before the mast, being a forced man from the beginning.
I want him to suffer some of the misery he has caused. Lynching is over in a moment. I want that murderer to die by the slow merciless cruelty of the law." Even the worst in the crowd shuddered as they heard these words and realised as they looked at Bowen's face, almost inhuman in its rage, that his thirst for revenge made their own seem almost innocent. The speech broke up the crowd.
Bowen's horses were, perhaps, pampered beyond the habitual resignation of Florentine horses to all manner of natural phenomena; they reared at sight of the sable crew, and backing violently uphill, set the carriage across the road, with its hind wheels a few feet from the brink of the wall. The coachman sprang from his seat, the ladies and the child remained in theirs as if paralysed.
"Imogene has been telling her about your adventure last night, and making her laugh." If it had been Mrs. Bowen's purpose to mystify him, she could not have done it more thoroughly than by this bold treatment of the affair. He bent a puzzled gaze upon her. "I'm glad any of you have found it amusing," he said; "I confess that I couldn't let myself off so lightly in regard to it."
I was sorry to have grieved him; but if he had heard Betsy Bowen's story, and seen her tell it, perhaps he would have allowed for me. I sat down again, having risen in my warmth, and tried to quiet and command myself by thinking of the sad points only.
Bowen's house on the evening of May 8, the day before the Presbyterians were to vacate their old edifice. There were present, besides Mr. Bowen, David Hale, Jira Payne, John T. Howard, Charles Rowland, and David Griffin. On behalf of the owners David Hale offered the property for religious purposes, and it was decided to have services on May 16.
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