Adventure stories; British -- Foreign countries -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Love stories
‘They think that the island is theirs, you see,’ he explained, ‘and
that the lord has no business to sell it. They may be good-hearted,
Lord Wheatley, but they are tenacious of their rights.’
‘But they can’t have any rights,’ I expostulated.
‘None at all,’ he assented. ‘But a man is never so tenacious of his
rights as when he hasn’t any. However, _autres temps autres mœurs_;
I don’t suppose you’ll have any trouble of that kind. Certainly I hope
not, my dear lord.’
‘Surely your Government will see to that?’ I suggested.
His Excellency looked at me; then, although by nature a grave man, he
gave a low humorous chuckle and regarded me with visible amusement.
‘Oh, of course, you can rely on that, Lord Wheatley,’ said he.
‘That is a diplomatic assurance, your Excellency?’ I ventured to
suggest, with a smile.
‘It is unofficial,’ said he, ‘but as binding as if it were official.
Our Governor in that district of the empire is a very active man--yes,
a decidedly active man.’
The only result of this conversation was that when I was buying my
sporting guns in St James’s Street the next day I purchased a couple
of pairs of revolvers at the same time. It is well to be on the safe
side, and, although I attached little importance to the by-gone
outrage of which the Ambassador spoke, I did not suppose that the
police service would be very efficient. In fact I thought it prudent
to be ready for any trouble that the old-world notions of the
Neopalians might occasion. But in my heart I meant to be very popular
with them. For I cherished the generous design of paying the whole
tribute out of my own pocket, and of disestablishing in Neopalia what
seems to be the only institution in no danger of such treatment
here--the tax-gatherer. If they understood that intention of mine,
they would hardly be so short short-sighted as to set me adrift in my
shirt like a second Baron d’Ezonville, or so unjust as to kill poor
old Stefanopoulos as they had killed his ancestor. Besides, as I
comforted myself by repeating, they were a good-hearted race;
unsophisticated, of course, but thoroughly good-hearted.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account