Morley Ashton: A Story of the Sea. Volume 1 (of 3)Grant, James
General
Morley Ashton: A Story of the Sea. Volume 1 (of 3)
Grant, James
Fiction; Sea stories; Yellowback books
"And such creatures as these were your companions in South America?"
exclaimed Ethel Basset, almost with a shudder.
"Do not say so," replied Hawkshaw, who, perhaps, feared that he had
been too communicative "but travelling, in such countries especially,
acquaints one with strange bed-fellows and strange boon companions,
too. But enough of the Barradas, who have likely been shot or
garotted long ago. How delightful is this soft grass under the shady
trees. By Jove, we are better here than in some places where I have
been; the plains of Vera Cruz, for instance, among hot sand, mosquito
flies, that sting like wasps, prickly pears, and herds of wild
bisons; but, with all its charms, this is a cold-blooded country,
this England of yours, Mr. Morley, and ill-suited to such a spirit as
mine."
"Is it not your country as well as ours?" asked Morley, coldly.
"I scolded him for speaking thus the other night, when he laughed at
my azaleas," said Rose, shaking her parasol at the offender.
"Well, I was certainly raised here, which is my misfortune, and not
my fault; but I have been so long where the bowie-knife or revolver,
the hatchet or rifle settle all quarrels, disputes, jealousies, or
impertinent interferences," he continued with an unfathomable smile,
"that I can ill tolerate the system----"
"Of a well-regulated police," interrupted Morley, closing the
captain's sentence with a meaning smile, that was not unlike his own.
"_Caramba!_--yes; and, then, on the wild prairies, while one has a
good musket and ammunition, we are so careless of money."
"The money of others especially," said Ethel.
Hawkshaw bit his nether lip; but observed with a smile:
"Be assured, my dear Miss Basset, that when in South America I did
not squander my cash among tradesmen, or ruin myself by paying
tailors and bootmakers."
What Hawkshaw meant by this was not very apparent; but when the
little party resumed their promenade among the grand old trees of
Acton Chase, Morley gradually drew Ethel somewhat apart from the
rest. After being silent some time:
"I entertain a horror of that fellow!" said he; "and I am astonished
that your father tolerates or patronises him. Excuse me, dear Ethel;
but I cannot help saying so."
"You mean Mr. Hawkshaw?"
"Pray don't omit his rank of captain--yes, Hawkshaw--a most decided
aversion for him."
"Though I don't like him, Morley, I am sorry to hear this," said
Ethel, gently, while colouring a very little.
"Why?"
"He is such a favourite with papa--for his father's sake, I grant
you, rather than his own--for old Mr. Hawkshaw was, indeed, a great
and valued friend to papa, when early in life he much required one."
"Listen, Ethel, and, dearest, do be candid with me--has Hawkshaw ever
spoken of love to you?"
"Frequently, before you came," said Ethel, smiling.
"D---- his impudence!"
"Oh, fie, Morley!" said she, folding her hands upon his arm, and
looking up smilingly in his face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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