"Hold hard, you fellows," he cried, as the other two were walking on. "Hold hard, there's no hurry. Looks like a scene in a theatre, doesn't it?" waving a hand towards the prospect below them.
"With the moon for lime light?" rejoined Mr. Quentin as he paused and glanced back upon the steamer, surrounding boats, and the sea, all bathed in bright, tropical moon-shine; at the many lights twinkling up and down the island, like fire-flies in a wood.
Dr. Parks remained stationary for some seconds, contemplating Ross, with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waistcoat. At length he said,—
"I daresay old Denis hardly knows himself to-night, with a girl sitting opposite him. I hope she will turn out well."
"You mean that you hope she will turn out good-looking," amended Mr. Quentin, turning and surveying his companion expressively. "Ah, Parks, you were always a great ladies' man!"
"Nonsense, sir, nonsense. I'm not thinking of her looks at all; but the fact of the matter is, that Denis has had an uncommonly rough time of it, and I trust he is in shallow water at last, and that this girl will turn out to be what they call 'a comfort to him.'"
"I hope she will be a comfort to us all. I'm sure we want some consolation in this vile hole; but why is Old Denis a special charity?" inquired Mr. Quentin.
"Old Denis—well, he is not so old, if it comes to that; in fact, he is five years my junior, and I suppose I'm not an old man, am I?" demanded Dr. Parks, with a spark of choler in his eye.
"Oh, you! you know that you are younger than any of us," rejoined Mr. Quentin quickly; "time never touches you; but about Denis?"
"Oh! he has had a lot of bother and worry, and you know that that plays the deuce with a fellow. The fact of the matter is, that Tom Denis came to awful grief in money matters," said Dr. Parks, now walking on abreast of Mr. Quentin, and discoursing in a fluent, confidential tone.