Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

$56 at prodigious speed, presumably in Portu- guese, but never in unison. Mary knew no Portuguese, and after lis- tening politely for four minutes, concealed a yawn behind delicate fingers, and sat up in bed. “TI am sure,” she remarked, “ you are all saying something very kind, only unfortu- nately my education was a narrow one. I speak English, and have a workable know/l- edge of French, but that’s the end. Can any of you translate?” They dropped their chatter and listened attentively. At the end, after some actiye consultation, a small, yellow man was thrust forward. He fingered his knife nervously, and delivered himself of speech. “You notta Dutch woman, senhorita?” “ Nothing of the kind. Quite English.” “Ingleesa, eh? But this a Dutch ship? Got Dutch smell.” “T can’t help that. way.” | This took some digesting, but after a strenuous consultation the interpreter took up the tale: ‘“‘'Whata for those fellows they left you when they left shipar”’ “They didn’t. I swam here.” “ You—er—swama? How swama?” Mary demonstrated. . The yellow man grinned. “ Savvy. Where you swima from? Inghilterra?”’ “ Part of the way. I did the rest of the trip on a steamer, and didn’t hurry over it.” ‘But this again was past the interpreter’s art, and once more came discussion. Mary - let them go on, without suggestion. She did not confess so much, even to herself, but just then she was seized with an imp- ish wish to ‘‘ put on time,” as children call it. Of ceurse I am not going to suggest for a@ moment that she was anxious to give the hated Teach opportunity to get away, but—vwell, there you are. At last decision was arrived at. “ We fetch officer,” the little yellow man an- nounced. .‘‘ You sitta here. Slow he come.” It was indeed a case of ‘‘ slow he come,” and Mary wondered if all officers on Brazil- lan men-0’-war go to bed at nights like It isn’t mine, any- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. decent people, and leave the common sailors to look after the ship. Also when he did come he was a tall man of Nubian coloring. But he spoke public school English as though it was his mother- tongue. “Good evening. May I introduce my- self? Captain Jacob Smith, of the Brazil- lan navy. No reason at all to ask who you are. I can assure you the various portraits of Miss Mary Arncliffe have taken up a very considerable space in the press of the entire world during these last few months. I like that one where you are sitting on the tail-board of a lorry in Flanders best.” “T never saw it.” - “Possibly not. It is a snap-shot taken by a Frenchman. Ap astonishing lot of people seem to have obotographed you sur- reptitiously from time to time, Miss Arn- cliffe. “Now Admiral Teach has always suc- cessfully dodged the camera. And that re- minds me. Where is Teach? Of course you have him to thank for being here?” ‘*T suppose so.” ‘“And the brute marooned you here to starver”’ “’ He did nothing of the kind.”’ “Eh? I beg your pardon?’ Captain Jacob Smith screwed an eye-glass into his black face and stared. ‘I flattered myself I was the welcome rescuer of beauty in distress.’’ “You are—I mean, I’m not—that is, I can’t help my looks. But really I am very glad to see you.” They both laughed at this, and Mary decided that Captain Smith of the Brazilian navy was an extremely nice man, though he was undeniably a brunette. ‘“ Have you been here long?” he asked. “ Oh, an-hour or two.” ‘What! Do you mean we’ve got Teach close to us?” “Perhaps time has passed away more quickly than I guessed. I’ve had a lot to do tidying up, and that makes the hours pass. I’m airaid the Littondale will be far enough away by now.”’ “Um!” said Captain Smith, and held up a black hand to his face, possibly because his mouth twitched. ‘“‘ If one may venture CORNICE OOS Ss (CO ww