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Verity and Mr. Bulmer came with me from Europe. We all reached Pernambuco the day before yesterday. Indeed, if it were not for them, and the assistance they gave me, I would not be here now. No one recognized me, fortunately, and I hope you will not be vexed I passed as Mr. Verity's niece. In fact, I took your place for the time." A notable feature of the De Sylva utterance was its clearness.
The swallows had gathered for their southern flight, and the water-fowl returned from their northern immigration to the waters and reed-beds of the Haven, Sir Charles Verity's book, in two handsome quarto volumes, had been duly reviewed and found a place of honour in every library, worth the name, in the United Kingdom, before anything of serious importance occurred directly affecting our maiden.
But as the line, clearing the purlieus of the great seaport, turns south-westward running through the noble oak and beech woods of Arnewood Forest, crossing its bleak moorlands silver pink, at the present season, with fading heather and cutting through its plantations of larch and Scotch fir, Tom Verity's mood sobered.
But before Damaris had time to collect her thoughts and reply, the man in the peaked cap had further asserted his presence. Either becoming conscious of her observation, or caught by something in Tom Verity's speech, he wheeled round and looked up at the two in swift, almost haughty, enquiry. To Tom he vouchsafed little more than a glance, but upon Damaris his eyes fastened.
An opening offered, and the man who had singled out Dom Corria for his special vengeance fired again. The bullet struck Coke in the breast. The valiant little skipper staggered, and sank to the floor. His fiery eyes gazed up into Verity's. "Damme if I ain't hulled!" he roared, his voice loud and harsh as if he were giving some command from the bridge in a gale of wind. David dropped to his knees.
The sounds were so descriptive, so explicit and the impression produced on Tom Verity's mind so vivid that, carried away by indignation, he found himself saying out loud: "Curse them, the brutes, the cowardly brutes, mishandling their cattle like that! They"
Never had any special fancy for salt water, though I do make my living of it now, as you may say, in a sense." During this biographical excursion Tom Verity's attention wandered. His eyes dwelt on Damaris. She had altered her position turning half round as she scanned the strip of sandy warren with its row of sentinel Scotch firs bordering the river.
Nevertheless, after her first consternation in which, to avoid further speech with him she had sought refuge among the unsavoury seine nets in the fore-part of Jennifer's ferry-boat Tom Verity's probable opinion of her undignified action troubled her far less than the cause of the said action itself. For exactly what, after all, had so upset her, begetting imperative necessity of escape?
Unfortunately, either the thing was bungled or Westbrook was too cunning for them, but before they could secure him he had hidden himself in Verity's room, and when the poor child entered he thought she was his keeper and felled her brutally to the ground. They were only just in time to save her. Don't look so pale, Anna, I am not going to harrow up your feelings. It is not a nice story.
But, of course, you know them quite well Uncle Augustus, I mean, and my aunts." "Do I not know them!" Tom replied with meaning; while, humour getting the upper hand thanks to certain memories, he smiled at her. And, even at this early period in his career, it must be conceded that Tom Verity's smile was an asset to be reckoned with.
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