Captain Welfare’s countenance exhibited a sudden astonishment, which faded into the pain of a hospitable man compelled to withhold an impossible invitation.
“That would be a great honour, my Lord. But I’m afraid—our accommodation——”
“Oh! I’m sure that would be all and more than I desire or deserve. But don’t worry. I could no more get away than fly.”
Welfare tried to hide his obvious relief in a long sip of his port.
“I don’t drink port as a rule,” said the bishop, “but you must allow me one glass, Davoren, for a toast—Success to the Astarte.”
I was astounded at a look of horror in Captain Welfare’s face, as if he had witnessed an act of sacrilege.
Edmund gave a cynical laugh as he raised his glass.
“The Astarte,” said I, as I emptied mine, and rose to return to the study.
CHAPTER IV
I SAIL IN THE ASTARTE
WE all went to bed early that night, but before we went there was a good deal of talk about my holiday on the Astarte.