Prev | Current Page 415 | Next

Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

She courtesied to him, and, to his surprise, addressed him
in Parisian French. When he learned she was from England, and had
rounded that point in an open boat, he was astonished.
"Diables d'Anglais!" said he.
The good-natured Frenchman insisted on Lucy taking sole possession of
his cabin, in which was a cheerful stove. His crew were just as kind
to David, Jack, and Talboys. This latter now resumed his right
place--at the head of mankind; being the only one who could talk
French, he interpreted for his companions. He improved upon my
narrative in one particular: he led the Frenchmen to suppose it was he
who had sailed the boat from England, and weathered the point. Who can
blame him?
Dry clothes were found them, and grog and beef.
While employed on the victuals, a little Anglo-Frank, aged ten,
suddenly rolled out of a hammock and offered aid in the sweet accents
of their native tongue. The sound of the knives and forks had woke the
urchin out of a deep sleep. David filled the hybrid, and then sent him
to Lucy's cabin to learn how she was getting on. He returned, and told
them the lady was sitting on deck.
"Dear me," said David, "she ought to be in her bed." He rose and went
on deck, followed by Mr. Talboys. "Had you not better rest yourself?"
said David.
"No, thank you, Mr. Dodd; I had a delicious sleep in the boat."
Here Talboys put in his word, and made her a rueful apology for the
turn his pleasure-excursion had taken.


Pages:
403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416 417 418 419 420 421 422 423 424 425 426 427
brak hosta niezarejestrowana strona 906 sprawdz strone system wymiany linkow