Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: James Malcolm Rymer
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4064066382056
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evolutions as the clown in a pantomime when he vociferates hot codlings.

      "Now, Jack, where's the sailing instructions?" said his master.

      "Here, sir, in the locker," said Jack, as he took from his pocket a letter, which he handed to the admiral.

      "Won't you step in, sir?" said the landlord, who had begun now to recover a little from the dig in the ribs.

      "What's the use of coming into port and paying harbour dues, and all that sort of thing, till we know if it's the right, you lubber, eh?"

      "No; oh, dear me, sir, of course—God bless me, what can the old gentleman mean?"

      The admiral opened the letter, and read:—

      "If you stop at the Nelson's Aims at Uxotter, you will hear of me, and I can be sent for, when I will tell you more.

      "Yours, very obediently and humbly,

      "JOSIAH CRINKLES."

      "Who the deuce is he?"

      "This is Uxotter, sir," said the landlord; "and here you are, sir, at the Nelson's Arms. Good beds—good wine—good—"

      "Silence!"

      "Yes, sir—oh, of course"

      "Who the devil is Josiah Crinkles?"

      "Ha! ha! ha! ha! Makes me laugh, sir. Who the devil indeed! They do say the devil and lawyers, sir, know something of each other—makes me smile."

      "I'll make you smile on the other side of that d——d great hatchway of a mouth of yours in a minute. Who is Crinkles?"

      "Oh, Mr. Crinkles, sir, everybody knows, most respectable attorney, sir, indeed, highly respectable man, sir."

      "A lawyer?"

      "Yes, sir, a lawyer."

      "Well, I'm d——d!"

      Jack gave a long whistle, and both master and man looked at each other aghast.

      "Now, hang me!" cried the admiral, "if ever I was so taken in in all my life."

      "Ay, ay, sir," said Jack.

      "To come a hundred and seventy miles see a d——d swab of a rascally lawyer."

      "Ay, ay, sir."

      "I'll smash him—Jack!"

      "Yer honour?"

      "Get into the chaise again."

      "Well, but where's Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all blessed rogues; but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life this here one of 'em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as he has, don't be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I'm ashamed on you."

      "You infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, you lubberly rascal?"

      "Cos you desarves it."

      "Mutiny—mutiny—by Jove! Jack, I'll have you put in irons—you're a scoundrel, and no seaman."

      "No seaman!—no seaman!"

      "Not a bit of one."

      "Very good. It's time, then, as I was off the purser's books. Good bye to you; I only hopes as you may get a better seaman to stick to you and be your walley de sham nor Jack Pringle, that's all the harm I wish you. You didn't call me no seaman in the Bay of Corfu, when the bullets were scuttling our nobs."

      "Jack, you rascal, give us your fin. Come here, you d——d villain. You'll leave me, will you?"

      "Not if I know it."

      "Come in, then"

      "Don't tell me I'm no seaman. Call me a wagabone if you like, but don't hurt my feelings. There I'm as tender as a baby, I am.—Don't do it."

      "Confound you, who is doing it?"

      "The devil."

      "Who is?"

      "Don't, then."

      Thus wrangling, they entered the inn, to the great amusement of several bystanders, who had collected to hear the altercation between them.

      "Would you like a private room, sir?" said the landlord.

      "What's that to you?" said Jack.

      "Hold your noise, will you?" cried his master. "Yes, I should like a private room, and some grog."

      "Strong as the devil!" put in Jack.

      "Yes, sir-yes, sir. Good wines—good beds—good—"

      "You said all that before, you know," remarked Jack, as he bestowed upon the landlord another terrific dig in the ribs.

      "Hilloa!" cried the admiral, "you can send for that infernal lawyer, Mister Landlord."

      "Mr. Crinkles, sir?"

      "Yes, yes."

      "Who may I have the honour to say, sir, wants to see him?"

      "Admiral Bell."

      "Certainly, admiral, certainly. You'll find him a very conversible, nice, gentlemanly little man, sir."

      "And tell him as Jack Pringle is here, too," cried the seaman.

      "Oh, yes, yes—of course," said the landlord, who was in such a state of confusion from the digs in the ribs he had received and the noise his guests had already made in his house, that, had he been suddenly put upon his oath, he would scarcely have liked to say which was the master and which was the man.

      "The idea now, Jack," said the admiral, "of coming all this way to see a lawyer."

      "Ay, ay, sir."

      "If he'd said he was a lawyer, we would have known what to do. But it's a take in, Jack."

      "So I think. Howsomdever, we'll serve him out when we catch him, you know."

      "Good—so we will."

      "And, then, again, he may know something about Master Charles, sir, you know. Lord love him, don't you remember when he came aboard to see you once at Portsmouth?"

      "Ah! I do, indeed."

      "And how he said he hated the French, and quite a baby, too. What perseverance and sense. 'Uncle,' says he to you, 'when I'm a big man, I'll go in a ship, and fight all the French in a heap,' says he. 'And beat 'em, my boy, too,' says you; cos you thought he'd forgot that; and then he says, 'what's the use of saying that, stupid?—don't we always beat 'em?'"

      The admiral laughed and rubbed his hands, as he cried aloud—

      "I remember, Jack—I remember him. I was stupid to make such a remark."

      "I know you was—a d——d old fool I thought you."

      "Come, come. Hilloa, there!"

      "Well, then, what do you call me no seaman for?"

      "Why, Jack, you bear malice like a marine."

      "There you go again. Goodbye. Do you remember when we were yard arm to yard arm with those two Yankee frigates, and took 'em both! You didn't call me a marine then, when the scuppers were running with blood. Was I a seaman then?"

      "You were, Jack—you were; and you saved my life."

      "I didn't."

      "You did."

      "I say I didn't—it was a marlin-spike."

      "But I say you did, you rascally scoundrel.—I say you did, and I won't be contradicted in my own ship."

      "Call this your ship?"

      "No, d—n it—I—"

      "Mr. Crinkles," said the landlord, flinging the door wide open, and so at once putting an end to the discussion