At Sunwich Port, Part 3.: Contents: Chapters 11-15Jacobs, W. W. (William Wymark)
General
At Sunwich Port, Part 3.: Contents: Chapters 11-15
Jacobs, W. W. (William Wymark)
Betrothal -- Fiction; Family -- England -- Fiction; Fathers and sons -- Fiction; Ship captains -- Fiction
AT SUNWICH PORT
BY
W. W. JACOBS
Part 3.
ILLUSTRATIONS
From Drawings by Will Owen
CHAPTER XI
Jack Nugent's first idea on seeing a letter from his father asking him to
meet him at Samson Wilks's was to send as impolite a refusal as a strong
sense of undutifulness and a not inapt pen could arrange, but the united
remonstrances of the Kybird family made him waver.
"You go," said Mr. Kybird, solemnly; "take the advice of a man wot's seen
life, and go. Who knows but wot he's a thinking of doing something for
you?"
"Startin' of you in business or somethin'," said Mrs. Kybird. "But if 'e
tries to break it off between you and 'Melia I hope you know what to
say."
"He won't do that," said her husband.
"If he wants to see me," said Mr. Nugent, "let him come here."
"I wouldn't 'ave 'im in my house," retorted Mr. Kybird, quickly. "An
Englishman's 'ouse is his castle, and I won't 'ave him in mine."
"Why not, Dan'l," asked his wife, "if the two families is to be
connected?"
Mr. Kybird shook his head, and, catching her eye, winked at her with much
significance.
"'Ave it your own way," said Mrs. Kybird, who was always inclined to make
concessions in minor matters. "'Ave it your own way, but don't blame me,
that's all I ask."
Urged on by his friends Mr. Nugent at last consented, and, in a reply to
his father, agreed to meet him at the house of Mr. Wilks on Thursday
evening. He was not free him-self from a slight curiosity as to the
reasons which had made the captain unbend in so unusual a fashion.
Mr. Nathan Smith put in an appearance at six o'clock on the fatal
evening. He was a short, slight man, with a clean-shaven face mapped with
tiny wrinkles, and a pair of colourless eyes the blankness of whose
expression defied research. In conversation, especially conversation of
a diplomatic nature, Mr. Smith seemed to be looking through his opponent
at something beyond, an uncomfortable habit which was a source of much
discomfort to his victims.
"Here we are, then, Mr. Wilks," he said, putting his head in the door and
smiling at the agitated steward.
"Come in," said Mr. Wilks, shortly.
Mr. Smith obliged. "Nice night outside," he said, taking a chair; "clear
over'ead. Wot a morning it 'ud be for a sail if we was only young
enough. Is that terbacker in that canister there?"
The other pushed it towards him.
"If I was only young enough--and silly enough," said the boarding-house
master, producing a pipe with an unusually large bowl and slowly filling
it, "there's nothing I should enjoy more than a three years' cruise.
Nothing to do and everything of the best."
"'Ave you made all the arrangements?" inquired Mr. Wilks, in a tone of
cold superiority.
Mr. Smith glanced affectionately at a fish-bag of bulky appearance which
stood on the floor between his feet. "All ready," he said, cheerfully,
an' if you'd like a v'y'ge yourself I can manage it for you in two twos.
You've on'y got to say the word."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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