“The nickname does not sound flattering, I must confess; however, I will see if there is not some way of enrolling this major under my colours, and then she shall retire from military life to settle down as a civilian.”
“It does me good to see you treat the matter so lightly, for there is nothing for it but your making the attempt.”
“It has always been my maxim to take a cheerful view of things,” said Leopold, with a touch of melancholy in his tone; “and, alas! I have been forced to do so under adverse circumstances hitherto. And now, my good fellow, let us go and look out for some dinner. I can recommend Pyl’s Restaurant.”
“Why not at the Club?” asked Verheyst; “there we shall meet many friends whom I wish to see before my departure.”
“I am no longer a member, my dear fellow. After my father’s death I was obliged to cut down all unnecessary expenses, as my mother had but a small pension, and I could bear retrenchment better than a person of her age. It is not the subscription, it is the company one meets which leads to extravagance, and those quiet little supper parties, the invitations to which it is impossible to refuse.”
At dinner, over a good bottle of wine, William made Leopold promise to write a full account of all that should take place during his absence in Java, and send to him by mail from time to time. We can only hope that this story will prove no less interesting to our readers than it did to William Verheyst.
Chapter V.
Leopold van Zonshoven to Mr. William Verheyst.
My dear Friend,—Whilst you are sailing down the Red Sea, I am entrusting to paper what I would not confide to any living mortal but yourself.