My ear caught it! It was:
“W—e l—l!”
The Slow Movers had finished speaking their adieu.
CHAPTER VII.
Once more I grow tired of the quiet pleasures of home. The elder Baron opposes my leaving the land. His reasons. How I freed the ancestral estates from the pests of moles, meadow-mice and ground-squirrels; and how I set out for the Indies with my faithful Bulger. I enter a wild and untrodden territory. Wonderful transformation of day into night, and night into day. The huge fire-flies. My capture of one and what it brought forth. How I reached the borders of Palin-mâ-Talin, the Great Gloomy Forest. Benè-agâ the blind guide. My sojourn in his cave. I enter Palin-mâ-Talin under his guidance. Strange adventures in the Great Gloomy Forest. Benè-agâ takes leave of me. My advance is blocked by Bōga-Drappa, the Dread Staircase. My flight down its treacherous steps. I enter the land of the Umi-Lobas, or Man-Hoppers. Am carried a prisoner to their king. Something about him and his people. King Gâ-roo’s affection for me. His gift to me of copies of all the books in the royal library—All about the princess Hoppâ-Hoppâ. I am condemned to a life-long imprisonment among the Umi-Lobas. I plan an escape. How it was done. Efforts of King Gâ-roo to capture me. Farewell of little princess Hoppâ-Hoppâ. How I sailed away from the land of the Umi-Lobas, and made my way back across India. My return home.
PORTRAIT OF ONE OF MY MOUSERS IN RUBBER BOOTS.
Like all lovers of a roving life, I was not long in growing tired of the quiet ways and simple pursuits of the inmates of the old baronial hall.
At times, I felt like an intruder, when I caught myself sitting with eyes riveted upon the pages of some musty, old volume of strange adventure in far-away lands, while the elder baron, the gracious baroness, my loving mother, and several cousins from the neighboring estate, gave themselves up to the sweet pleasures of the fireside, feasting upon honey-cake, drinking hot spiced wine, playing at draughts, dominoes, or cards, now chatting in the most animated manner of the trivial things of every-day life, now bursting out into uproarious laughter at some unexpected victory won at cards or at some fireside game.
Silently closing my book, and still more silently stealing away, I sought the quiet of my apartments, where, with no other companions, save faithful Bulger, I gave myself up to unrestrained indulgence in waking dreams of life in a storm-rocked ship, landings on strange shores, parleyings with curious beings, battling with the wild-visaged typhoon, or hurrying with sails close-reefed and hatches battened down, to gain a safe port ere the storm king’s ebon chargers could rattle their hoofs over our heads.