Leonard Lindsay ; $b or, the story of a buccaneerReach, Angus B. (Angus Bethune)
General
Leonard Lindsay ; $b or, the story of a buccaneer
Reach, Angus B. (Angus Bethune)
Buccaneers -- Fiction; Historical fiction
‘The rarest match,’ he presently commenced again. ‘Her mother,
having as I said great confidence in me, consulted with me on the
matter. “Martin y Vesdras,” says she to me, “Joseffa is marriageable;
and here hath come a suitor well-favoured and marvellously
well-recommended, and a nobleman to boot. Thou wilt do well, Martin,
to see him; nay, hold converse with him, and report to me your
opinion.”
‘But I, having no opinions save what the saints send me, went
straight to bed and dreamed upon the matter. Never had I a more
encouraging vision. Good Master Mariner, as I am a true man, St.
Gieronimo himself appeared at the foot of the bed, holding a wedding
ring, which he seemed to throw towards me with a very pleasant smile,
and so when I woke I actually found the symbol upon the coverlid.’
‘Truly,’ says I, ’ Martin, this was but little short of a miracle.’
‘Master Mariner,’ quoth the simpleton, ‘I rejoice to hear you say so.
So indeed think I, and so thinks my mistress, only——’
‘What,’ cries I, ‘does any one refuse to believe the token?’
‘Ay, verily,’ answered the old steward, ‘even Mistress Joseffa
herself, who is in noways inclined, at the present time at least,
to this wedding, and so she contends, half in mirth half in pretty
pettishness—the saints guard her!—that the ring is not a marriage
ring, but truly only one of the brass curtain rings which she sayeth
dropped upon my nose in the night, and gave me my dream. “Look you,
Martin,” says she, “the ring is plain, just like the other curtain
rings.”
‘“But look you again, Mistress Joseffa,” says I, “all wedding rings
are plain, just like this ring.”
‘But she, sir, in noways put down by my argument, answers, “Truly,
but wedding rings are also gold, and this is brass, Master Martin.”’
‘Well,’ says I, ‘how did you answer that consideration? Methought, it
pushed you home.’
‘Answer it,’ cried he, ‘I hope I know better than to dispute
obstinately with the daughter of my good mistress. No, Master
Mariner, I held my peace, as became me, being but a servant; yet I
do, nevertheless, steadfastly believe the vision, and I hope that the
saints will inspire the sweet Joseffa with kinder thoughts to her
suitor, who is truly a goodly man and an honest, and what is better
than both, favoured of St. Gieronimo.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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