Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 67, No. 411, January 1850Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 67, No. 411, January 1850
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
All at once I caught a side-look from her eyes, that wasn't meant
for me, as she glanced over the poop-netting. Half provoking and
half sweet it was, though, and it made my brain somehow or other
seem to spin round, till a little after, before I well knew what
I was about, I was holding the long spy glass for her to see the
bank of the river,--her warm breath coming on my ear as I stooped
before her, near enough to have kissed the muslin on her shoulder,
while her rosy mouth changed with every new spot that the glass
brought near; and she had to hold one taper fore-finger on the other
eye-lid to keep it shut, so that I could dwell on her face as if
she'd been asleep. "There, there!" exclaimed she, "are actually
flowers--with such immense leaves! And now--an enormous tree, with
roots hanging from the branches, and other stems growing up into
them. Why, yes!--is not that a banian-tree, Mr--," and she looked
away at _me_, when of course the tree was vanished, and instead of
that, the rather undeniable expression of a fellow in love, two
or three inches off, bent fair upon her. Violet Hyde coloured a
little, and looked in again. "And--I think--" continued she, "I
see--oh, two such beautiful creatures--deer, I think--coming out
to drink from the river!" All this time, the ecstacies of the rest
kept up the noise and confusion: the young lady's maid was gaping
open-mouthed at the shore, not even noticing her young mistress's
straw bonnet fall off, and I had just picked it up with one hand, to
put it quietly over that matchless nut-brown hair of hers, shining
suddenly in the sun like silk, when the Judge's voice sang out sharp
from the other stair, "Violet, child, you'll have a sun-stroke.
Kitmagar, you scoundrel, _beebee sahib punkah lao, sirrah_!" I held
on to the telescope like grim death, while that eternal punkah was
hoisted over us both, the Judge eyeing me somewhat coolly for the
first moment. "Well, well, Mr Westwood," said he, however, "you've
got rid of that proud freak of yours;--such behaviour as yours
yesterday, I assure you, I shouldn't have endured from any one else,
young man! But, my dear boy," added he, suddenly, "from what I can
gather, indeed saw myself last night, I am convinced we owe you a
very great deal--even, I suspect, the safety of the entire vessel!"
Miss Hyde had left off using the glass, and, as I stood up, she gave
me a quick glance of amazement. "Mere chance, sir," I stammered.
"Why," said Sir Charles, "I saw you at the steerage in the middle
of the hurricane, when I believe the actual officers of the ship
had left it in dismay. I tell you what, Mr Westwood, you're a bold
fellow; and your uncle and I must see in India if we can't reward
you in some way, my dear boy!" All this fondling style of thing, and
for little more than a piece of luck, would have disgusted me, if I
hadn't been more taken up with watching the side of Violet Hyde's
face, as she listened for sounds in the woods ashore. "Strange
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account