“If it is your command, admiral, I obey with pleasure,” said the
attorney; “and although I assure you, on my honour, I did not write
that letter, yet some of the matters mentioned in it are so generally
notorious here, that I can afford you information concerning them.”
“Can you?”
“I regret to say I can, for I respect the parties.”
“Sit down, then—sit down. Jack, run to the steward’s room and get the
wine. We will go into it now starboard and larboard. Who the deuce
could have written that letter?”
“I have not the least idea, sir.”
“Well—well, never mind; it has brought me here, that’s something, so I
won’t grumble much at it. I didn’t know my nephew was in England, and I
dare say he didn’t know I was; but here we both are, and I won’t rest
till I’ve seen him, and ascertained how the what’s-its-name——”
“The vampyre.”
“Ah! the vampyre.”
“Shiver my timbers!” said Jack Pringle, who now brought in some wine
much against the remonstrances of the waiters of the establishment,
who considered that he was treading upon their vested interests by so
doing.—“Shiver my timbers, if I knows what a _wamphigher_ is, unless
he’s some distant relation to Davy Jones!”
“Hold your ignorant tongue,” said the admiral; “nobody wants you to
make a remark, you great lubber!”
“Very good,” said Jack, and he sat down the wine on the table, and
then retired to the other end of the room, remarking to himself that
he was not called a great lubber on a certain occasion, when bullets
were scuttling their nobs, and they were yard arm and yard arm with God
knows who.
“Now, mister lawyer,” said Admiral Bell, who had about him a large
share of the habits of a rough sailor. “Now, mister lawyer, here is a
glass first to our better acquaintance, for d——e, if I don’t like you!”
“You are very good, sir.”
“Not at all. There was a time, when I’d just as soon have thought of
asking a young shark to supper with me in my own cabin as a lawyer, but
I begin to see that there may be such a thing as a decent, good sort
of a fellow seen in the law; so here’s good luck to you, and you shall
never want a friend or a bottle while Admiral Bell has a shot in the
locker.”
“Gammon,” said Jack.
“D—n you, what do you mean by that?” roared the admiral, in a furious
tone.
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” shouted Jack, about two octaves higher.
“It’s two boys in the street as is pretending they’re a going to fight,
and I know d—d well they won’t.”
“Hold your noise.”
“I’m going. I wasn’t told to hold my noise, when our nobs were being
scuttled off Beyrout.”
“Never mind him, mister lawyer,” added the admiral. “He don’t know what
he’s talking about. Never mind him. You go on and tell me all you know
about the—the——”
“The vampyre!”
“Ah! I always forget the names of strange fish. I suppose, after all,
it’s something of the mermaid order?”
“That I cannot say, sir; but certainly the story, in all its painful
particulars, has made a great sensation all over the country.”
“Indeed!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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