“This will be ay lesson to you, judge, I trust,” observed Mr. Brentin, sternly.
“First and second lesson, by George! And now let’s talk about the yacht. Your friend wants to buy a yacht?”
I must say I was a good deal alarmed at Brentin’s coolness and precipitancy in so readily bringing me forward as purchaser of the Amaranth, and, as I listened to their conversation, quite made up my mind not to bind myself irrevocably to anything. Three, or even two, thousand pounds! My idea was doubtless a remarkable one, but I had no notion of backing it to that amount—at all events, with my own money. So, with an air of sham gravity, I listened, assuming as solid an air of wealth as I could on so short a notice, determined at the last moment to make the necessary fatal objections, which would finally effectually prevent my being saddled with the thing.
The judge explained that the yacht had only just been left him by an uncle who had died very suddenly in the “Albany”; that it was in complete order, ready victualled and manned; that it had usually been sent round to the Riviera, and joined there overland by his uncle, who spent the winter months on board till the advent of spring enabled him to return to London; that there it was lying at Ryde, awaiting his orders, and that he had accidentally heard that Captain Evans, in default of instructions, was actually employing it for excursions on his own behalf, and taking the Ryde people for trips in the Solent and runs over to Bournemouth at so much a head when the weather was favorable; which would all have to be accounted for, added the judge, of course. It was a large yacht, of about four hundred tons, and, rather than be bothered with it, the judge would let it go for three thousand pounds.
“Why don’t you go down and see it,” he asked, “before you decide? And, if I were you, I wouldn’t let Evans know you are coming; if it’s a fine day, you are sure to catch him at some of his little games, and that’ll give you a hold over him.”
“Three thousand pounds is ay large sum of money, judge,” objected Mr. Brentin.
“Not bad; but then it’s a large yacht. Now look here, don’t you haggle with me,” he went on, irritably, “because I don’t like it. You can either take it or leave it. I won’t let it go for a penny less. Rather than that, I’ll go and live on board and spend my time crossing between Portsmouth and the island. I should be safe from her ladyship, at any rate, for even coming up in the lift upsets her.”
We shook his hand and left him composing himself to receive Lady Hipkins again. She was walking up and down the corridor as we came out, and Mr. Brentin went up to her and bowed.
“The judge is real bad, ma’am,” he said, with great gravity, “and should not be left. He has been explaining to us what a comfort you and your reading are to him, and how much he looks forward to being taken down to Norwood and nursed back to his former robust health at your hands. If I may venture to advise, you should procure a hotel conveyance as soon as possible and drive him way down home by easy stages. The air in this city, ma’am, is not good for ay man of the judge’s temperament and physique.”
“You have a kind face,” her ladyship answered, in her strange, flat voice, “and mean kindly, I am sure. But I am extremely deaf, and have not heard one word you have said. Perhaps you would kindly write it down for me?” she added, handing him a little book.