The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval LieutenantCupples, George
General
The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval Lieutenant
Cupples, George
Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction
when I saw her begin to pour out the tea out of the silver teapot, I
didn't know _where_ I was! 'Oh, I forgot,' said the judge, waving his
hand from me to her, in a hurry, 'Mr Robins, Violet! ho, _kitmagar_,
curry l'ao!' 'Oh,' said she, stiffly, with a cold turn of her pretty
lip, 'I have met Mr--Mr----' 'Collins, ma'am,' said I. 'I have met this
gentleman by accident _before_.' 'So you have--so you have,' said her
father; 'but you play chess well, Mr--a--a--what's his name?--ah! Colly.
Gad, you play _well_, sir--we must have it out!'
"The young lady glanced at me again with a sort of astonishment; at last
she said, no doubt for form's sake, though as indifferently as possible:
'You have known your friend the missionary gentleman long, I believe,
sir?--the Reverend Mr Thomas--I think that is his name?' 'Oh no, ma'am!'
said I hastily, for the judge was the last man I wished should join
Westwood and me together, 'only since we crossed the Line, or so.' 'Why,
I thought he said you were at school together!' said she, in surprise.
'Why--hem--certainly not, ma'am--a--a--I--a--a--I don't remember the
gentleman there,' I blundered out. 'Eh, what?--check to your queen,
young gentleman, surely?' asked Sir Charles. 'What's this, though!
Always like to hear a mystery explained, so'--and he gave me one of his
sharp glances. 'Why, why--surely, young man, now I think of it in that
way, I've seen you before in some peculiar circumstances or other--on
land, too. Why, where was it--let me see now?' putting his finger to his
forehead to think; while I sat pretty uneasy, like a small pawn that had
been trying to get to the head of the board, and turn into a knight or a
bishop, when it falls foul of a grand figured-out king and queen.
However, the queen is the only piece you need mind at a distance, and
blessed hard it is to escape from _her_, of course. Accordingly, I cared
little enough for the old nabob finding out I had gone in chase of them;
but there sat his charming little daughter, with her eyes on her
tea-cup; and whether the turn of her face meant coolness, or malice, or
amusement, I didn't know--though she seemed a little anxious too, I
thought, lest her father should recollect me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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