Mr. Yellowley seemed to have run himself out of breath with this burst of enthusiasm; for he was unable to resume his narrative until several minutes after, when he proceeded thus:
“The fat gentleman and myself were soon engaged in conversation. He was hastening down to bid some friends good-bye, ere they sailed for India. I was about to leave my native country, too,—perhaps forever.
“‘Yes, sir,’ said I, addressing him, ‘Heaven knows when I shall behold these green valleys again, if ever. I have just been appointed Secretary and Chief Counsellor to the Political Resident at the court of the Rajah of Sautaucantantarabad!—a most important post—three thousand eight hundred and forty-seven miles beyond the Himalaya.’
“And here—with, I trust, a pardonable pride—I showed him the government order for my free transit, with the various directions and injunctions concerning my personal comfort and safety.
“‘Ah,’ said the old gentleman, putting on his spectacles to read,—‘ah, I never beheld one of these before. Very curious,—very curious, indeed. I have seen a sheriff’s writ, and an execution; but this is far more remarkable,—“Simon Yellowley, Esq., and lady.” Eh?—so your lady accompanies you, sir?’
“‘Would she did,—would to Heaven she did!’ exclaimed I, in a transport.
“‘Oh, then, she’s afraid, is she? She dreads the blacks, I suppose.’
“‘No, sir; I am not married. The insertion of these words was a mistake of the official who made out my papers; for, alas! I am alone in the world.’
“‘But why don’t you marry, sir?’ said the little man, briskly, and with an eye glistening with paternity. ‘Young ladies ain’t scarce—’
“‘True, most true; but even supposing I were fortunate enough to meet the object of my wishes, I have no time. I received this appointment last evening; to-day I am here, to-morrow I shall be on the billows!’