“Not altogether nautical, sir, but aeronautical,” replied the photographer, apologetically.
“Then your errand is connected with my nephew, and not with me?”
“Precisely, sir. I have hurried over from Sydenham to show my first proofs of the ‘Rescue of the Lady on the Lake.’”
“The rescue of the lady on the lake!” exclaimed the merchant, with surprise.
“I protest, uncle, against this liberty and intrusion,” said Harry. “I have had no notice that such a subject was to be published.”
“Sir,” said the photographer, “do permit me, with the most respectful deference, to explain that I was taking views around the lake at the Crystal Palace when you rescued that young lady from a watery grave.”
“What business had you—” began Harry.
“Go on, photographer,” cried the merchant. “My nephew seems to want to hide a praiseworthy act. Let me see these proofs that you have brought.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Ay—yes. I daresay they have an interest and value of their own, but, without my glasses, I cannot very well decipher the different figures. I must study them a little, for I fancy I know one face. You can leave these with me while you go below and get some refreshment. I will ring the bell.”