The Argosy — page 248: what you’re looking at

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

The Cruise of the Reserve Squadron. 229 lives to you. On returning to the Defence, we shall have to present you with an illuminated address, in memory of the occasion.” “Or perhaps,” I suggested, ‘‘one of Van Stoker’s numerous love sonnets might be found to meet the necessity. It would save trouble, and would be full of warmth and sentiment.” ‘‘T doubt if Van Stoker would spare one out of the many thousands he has written,” returned Mr. Jago;—‘“‘even to you. ‘That young man is to me a most interesting psychological study. I shall watch his future career with the greatest interest.” “As for me,” returned Broadley, ‘‘ neither love sonnets nor illumi- nated addresses could ever express a tithe of my emotions. When I think how nearly we were all three ——” ‘Never mind that now,” I interrupted, hastily. ‘‘ Be satisfied, amico mio, that nothing so terrible has happened. We are all safe and sound. ‘The only mystery to me is that I have not been the invalid instead of you. Depend upon it that lemon tea may be good for the Moors, but it is poison to an Englishman. See out there,” I added, pointing onwards. For in the distance we could discern the outlines of the Squadron in Gibraltar Bay. The steamer was making good way. The Rock loomed up and grew in size and majesty. As we neared the ships, it was observed that the Defence had a distinct list to starboard. For a moment we felt a flash of alarm. “What can it be?” cried Mr. Jago. ‘TI can’t conceive,” returned Broadley. ‘‘ Never saw such a thing in the whole course of my existence.” “‘T have it,” said I, under the influence of a bright idea. ‘ With- out doubt this is produced by the weight of Van Stoker’s love letters.” And so, indeed, it proved. We advanced nearer and nearer. ‘There was a good deal of swell upon the water to-day; so much so that the Regatta, which was to have taken place that morning, had to be deferred ; and we were not sorry, presently, to find ourselves at anchor. A boat shot out from the Defence, and ere long we were once more pacing the old familiar decks. We did not know it then, but it was the beginning of the end. | Cconnicloooks (C(O)