The object (as Mr. Fett explained it) being to
throw Billy Priske's sweetheart off the scent. For two days past he
had been slyly working upon Billy's fears, and was relating to him
how, with two words, a Moorish lady had followed Gilbert a Becket
from Palestine to London, and found him there--when my father,
attracted by the smell of pitch, strolled forward and caught Mr.
Badcock in the act of sealing the bottles from a ladle which stood
heating over a lamp. In the next five minutes the pair learnt that
my father could lose his temper, and the lesson visibly scared them.
"Your pardon, sir," twittered Mr. Fett. "'Twas a foolish joke, I
confess."
"I may lend some point to it," answered my father grimly, "by telling
you what I had a mind to conceal, that you stand at this moment at no
far remove from one of the worst dangers you have playfully invented.
The wind has dropped again, as you perceive. Along the coast yonder
live the worst pirates in the world, and with a glass we may all but
discern the dreadful barracks in which so many hundreds of our
fellow-Christians lie at this moment languishing.
Pages:
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224