‘You intend to marry her, Lord Wheatley?’
‘She has done me the honour to consent and I certainly intend it; unless you’re going to send her off to Constantinople—or heaven knows where.’
Beverley arched his brows, but it was not his business to express an opinion, and I heartily forgave him his hinted disapproval, when he said to the captain:
‘I really don’t see how I can do what you ask. If you had won the tr— I mean, if you had succeeded in taking the lady on board, I should have had no more to say. As it is, I don’t think I can do anything but carry her to a British port. You can prefer your claim to extradition before the Court there, if you’re so advised.’
‘Bravo!’ cried Denny.
‘Be good enough to hold your tongue, sir,’ said Captain Beverley.
‘At least, you will take a note of my demand,’ urged the Turk.
‘With the utmost pleasure,’ responded Captain Beverley, and then and there he took a note. People seem often to find some mystical comfort in having a note taken, though no other consequence appears likely to ensue. Then the captain, being comforted by his note, took his farewell. I walked with him to the side of the vessel.
‘I hope you bear no malice,’ said I, as I held out my hand, ‘and that this affair won’t get you into any trouble.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said he. ‘Your ingenuity will be my excuse.’