“Veway stwange! incompwehensibly stwange! D’yaw know, my young fellaw, that yaw and I appeaw to be making faw the same pawt. Woftus Vawn, of Mount Welcome, is the twustwee of my own pwoperty—the veway person to whom I am consigned. Deaw me! how doocèd stwange if yaw and I should yet be guests undaw the same woof!”
The remark was accompanied by a supercilious glance, that did not escape the observation of the young steerage passenger. It was this glance that gave the true signification to the words, which Herbert Vaughan interpreted as an insult.
He was on the point of making an angry rejoinder, when the exquisite turned abruptly away—as he parted drawling out some words of leave-taking, with the presumptive conjecture that they might meet again.
Herbert Vaughan stood for a moment looking after him, an expression of high contempt curling upon his lip. Only for a short while, however, did this show itself; and then, his countenance resuming its habitual expression of good-nature, he descended into the steerage, to prepare his somewhat scanty baggage for the debarkation.
Volume One—Chapter Eleven.
Loftus Vaughan on the Look-Out.
Every day, after that on which he had received the two English letters—and almost every hour during daylight—might Loftus Vaughan have been seen, telescope in hand, at one of the front windows of his house, sweeping with his glass the roadstead and offing of Montego Bay.
The object of this telescopic observation was, that he might descry the Sea Nymph before she had entered the harbour: in order that his carriage should be at the port to receive the distinguished Smythje on the moment of his landing.