“Peaked—kind o’ peaked. White, with dark succles under your eyes. Air you nervous?”
“About the lions? Oh no. Don’t worry about me, governor.”
He sighed, adjusted his spectacles, and blew his nose.
“Mr. Speed—he’s worriting, too; he says that Empress Khatoun means to hev ye one o’ these days.”
“You tell Mr. Speed to worry over his own affairs—that child, Jacqueline, for instance. I suppose she made her jump without trouble to-day? I was too nervous to stay and watch her.”
“M’ friend,” said Byram, in solemn ecstasy, “I take off my hat to that there kid!” And he did so with a flourish. “You orter seen her; she hung on that flying trap, jest as easy an’ sassy! We was all half crazy. Speed he grew blue around the gills; Miss Crystal, a-swingin’ there in the riggin’ by her knees, kept a swallerin’ an’ lickin’ her lips, she was that scared.
“‘Ready?’ she calls out in a sort o’ quaver.
“‘Ready!’ sez little Jacqueline, cool as ice, swingin’ by her knees. ‘Go!’ sez Miss Crystal, an’ the kid let go, an’ Miss Crystal grabbed her by the ankles. ‘Ready?’ calls up Speed, beside the tank.
“‘Ready!’ sez the kid, smilin’. ‘Drop!’ cries Speed. An’ Jacqueline shot down like a blazing star—whir! swish! splash! All over! An’ that there nervy kid a floatin’ an’ a sportin’ like a minnie-fish at t’other end o’ the tank! Oh, gosh, but it was grand! It was jest—” 271
Speech failed; he walked away, waving his arms, his rusty silk hat on the back of his head.