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
"Here Westwood stooped down to his trunk, and took out a rose-coloured
note wrapped in a bit of paper; I standing the while fixed to the deck,
not able to speak, till he was handing it to me. 'No, no!' said I,
turning from him angrily, and like to choke; 'that's too much, Mr
Westwood--pray keep your own love-letters for your own reading!'
'There's nothing particular in it, Ned,' answered he, flushing a little,
'only there's a few words in it I'd like you to see--don't look at it
just now, but tell me afterwards what you think. You ought to see it, as
the matter seems to depend on you, Ned; and if _you_ object, you may be
sure, so far as I'm concerned, 'tis all over!'
"Somehow or other, the look of the little folded piece of paper, with
the touch and the scent of it, as Westwood slipped it into my hand, made
it stick to me. I caught one glance of the address on the back, written
as if fairy fingers had done it, and I suppose I slipped it into my coat
as I went out of the berth, meaning to go aloft in the foretop and
sicken over the thought at my leisure, of Violet Hyde's having ever
favoured another man so far, and that man Tom Westwood. The strangeness
of the whole affair, as I took it, never once struck me; all that I
minded was the wretched feeling I had in me, as I wished I could put the
Atlantic betwixt me and them all; in fact, a hundred things before we
sailed, and during the passage, seemed all at once to agree with what
I'd just heard; and I'd have given thousands that moment it had been
someone else than Westwood, just that I might wait the voyage out
coolly, for the satisfaction of meeting him at twelve paces the first
morning ashore.
"On the larboard side of the berth-gangway, opposite our door, I saw the
old planter's standing half open, and Mr Rollock himself with his shirt
and trousers on, taking in his boots. 'Hallo, Collins, my boy,' he sang
out, eagerly, 'come here a moment, I've got something to show
you!--Look,' said he, standing on tiptoe to see better through the
half-port, 'there's something new been put in my picture-frame here
overnight, I think--ha! ha!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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