"Of course; you would immediately become one of the family. We are all united in the village; no secrets, no privacy."
"Then I take the house, sir," said Frank. "May I ask who it is I have the honour of talking to?"
"My name is General Hosham—you've heard of my being commander-in-chief in Mexico; my step-son, Colonel Chobb, fought for the glorious Isabella of Spain. Will you go and look at the villa, sir?"
"I shall take it," said Frank, "at all events. Very little accommodation will be enough for me."
"And you will take possession?"
"Immediately; I consider myself Colonel Chobb's tenant from this hour."
"You do?" said the general, taking him by the hand. "You put me in mind of my poor aide-de-camp, Saint Rosalio; he was a perfect gentleman. I am proud to make your acquaintance, sir. I will be back in a few minutes."
And so saying, the general made a military salam, and walked in a stately manner out of the room.
"By this manoeuvre I have at all events secured admission to The Chobb's house; and if this governess is indeed poor Alice—but no—how could I think she would be connected in any way with such strange people as these? At all events, she is in the village, and by staying in it for a few days I am certain to find her out." In the midst of these and similar reflections, the general returned, and brought with him no less an individual than The Chobb in person. He was a little man, very dark in the complexion, and very fat, with the coarse look that a habit of low dissipation is sure to leave upon the best features. Small impudent eyes peeped sharply over the puffed out cheeks, and gave a look of mingled bullying and cunning to his countenance, which told a very intelligible tale of beer and tobacco. He held out his hand in the most open, unaffected manner, and echoed all his step-sire's speeches on the subject of the ornamental villa, and his pride and happiness in finding so desirable a neighbour.
"Rather worse quarters than if you came into the great house, as my poor mansion is called, but a mighty deal more comfortable than many I've had to put up with. I remember bivouacking in a wet cave on the shores of the Bay of Biscay. I was in command that day of the army of observation. Carlos was on the heights of St Sebastian, and I was tired of reconnoitring: I bivouacked, I tell you, in a cave—no blankets, no counterpane, and covered with wounds. In the middle of the night I heard a noise; looked up; it was pitch dark. I cocked my pistol, and fired into the corner where the noise was made, and went to sleep again! In the morning my aides-de-camp came in, and on groping in the cave, what do you think we found?—but you will never guess it: a boa-constrictor— an immense animal—thicker than stepfather's body. I had shot him right through the eye, for I never missed a mark in my life."