The Argosy — page 400: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

382 Letters from Majorca. Then an idea came to me that I would make for Bordeaux by sea instead of by land, and on a certain Friday, the day of sailing, it blew great guns and all the elements seemed at war. You accompanied me to the wharf hard by the old Tower of Lon- don: where P. M. was also waiting to see me off and wish me Bon voyage. The shipping in the river swayed to and fro, rocked and creaked in the gale; the water was nothing but little waves and creases; we could not hear ourselves speak. You commanded me not to go, and P. M. asked you if he should rush off for a strait- waistcoat, or a quantity of rope. He had once tied up Maskelyne and Cook, and knew the trick well. I agreed to consult the Captain; and P. and I went off: in a boat. The good ship was not alongside, and was lying some little way down the river. “Rough weather, sir, till to-morrow at noon,” said the jolly old skipper of the Lapwing. ‘After that, it will clear up and we shall have a glorious time of it, until we make Bordeaux harbour on Monday morning. A bad sea on in the Bay of Biscay, you ask, sir? Not at all The Bay of Biscay is much maligned. I tell you that nine times out of ten we have fine weather in the Bay of Biscay, and you'll find it on Sunday as calm as a mill-pond and as blue as the heavens. Danger, sir?” in answer to P.’s anxious enquiry, which I think was made solely as champion of your cause: “who talks of danger, or dreams of it? I don’t know the word. ‘Fear not, but trust in Providence,’ the old song says, and it has been my motto on all occasions.” “I'm afraid you have the best of it,” said P., turning to me. ‘ After such a report, I can’t conscientiously administer a strait-waist- coat or a rope’s-end.” (He meant a rope, of course, but I let it pass.) So I finally decided to go. Just after doing so a blast came from the four quarters of the heavens which might have shaken the foundations of the good old Tower itself. You shivered and turned pale. The tender came alongside to convey us to the steamer. We said good-bye: that infinitely sad and solemn word. ‘One last long lingering look we gave.” PP, almost threw consequences to the gale, and came off with me without bag or baggage; without a With your leave or By your leave to his people at home: almost dared fate and fortune by throwing in his lot with me as far as Bordeaux. You restrained him with gentle influence. And then you both disappeared, and I was left to sorrow and solitude. It was a great blank. The tender was not yet ready to start, and I went after you for a last word and a last good-bye. I was too late. A grown-up ragamuffin, all tattered and torn, came up to me and touched his cap. “Carriage just gone round the-corner with lady and gentleman, sir. Shall I run after it and stop them and bring them back? ” 1» Google comicbooks.com