Part 10 (2/2)
”No,” he answered rather curtly, as Cossie's round complacent face rose before his mental eye.
After a short pause he changed the topic and asked:
”Do you ride, Miss Leigh?”
”Yes, but not since we've come to London; I love riding. In the country, in father's lifetime, I rode a cob--he went in the cart, too; he was such a dear, but very tricky; once or twice he ran away with me; I didn't tell father, because I knew I'd never again be allowed to ride alone, and I do enjoy riding by myself.”
”I'm sorry to hear that, for if I can rise to the price of a gee, I was hoping you would allow me to join you occasionally.”
”I should be delighted, but----” and she hesitated.
”Oh, yes,” he added quickly, ”I know what you are going to say: 'How about a chaperon?'”
”Perhaps they don't keep chaperons in Rangoon?”
”Oh, yes, my dear, they do,” declared Mrs. Maitland, who, as she joined them, had overheard the last remark, ”and extra fierce specimens, I can a.s.sure you! Miss Leigh, they want me to sing Gounod's 'Ave Maria,' so will you be an angel and come and play my accompaniment?”
As Miss Leigh was always ready to be ”an angel” at a moment's notice, she offered no resistance when Mrs. Maitland took her by the arm and led her away to the music-room.
Shafto and Miss Leigh were usually among the first to appear on deck, both being early risers; she, in order to leave a clear field for Mrs.
Milward's prolonged toilet, and the elaborate operations of her clever maid. The pretty grey hair had to be taken out of pins, brushed, back-combed and deftly arranged, as the frame to its owner's beaming and youthful face. Lacing, b.u.t.toning and hooking also absorbed considerable time.
As for Shafto, he was no lie-a-bed. Even in those dark, raw winter days at Lincoln Square, when breakfast was served by electric light, he was always punctual, and one of the first to descend and retrieve his boots through the smoky atmosphere of the lower regions. What a contrast were those murky hours to these glorious mornings in the tropics--the green translucent sea, the soft golden light, the salt, stimulating air, all s.h.i.+mmering and melting together! The day really dawned for Shafto when a certain Panama hat, crowning a beautiful head, emerged from the companion ladder, and the smile in a pair of bright dark eyes greeted him like a ray of suns.h.i.+ne. One morning, as the couple paced the deck before breakfast, accompanied by Mr. Hoskins, an excited fellow traveller accosted the trio.
”I say,” he began, ”have you heard? They have just signalled land ahead!”
”Oh, where?” cried Sophy eagerly.
”Do you see over the starboard bow, that faint dark streak upon the sky line?”
She nodded.
”Well then,” he announced impressively, ”that is Burma!”
Shafto s.n.a.t.c.hed up a pair of gla.s.ses and gazed at the long line of coast and, as he gazed, he felt as if he stood upon Pisgah and a whole new world lay open before him. He was figuratively surveying the Promised Land!
CHAPTER XI
A BURMESE HOSTESS
Early in the same afternoon the _Blanks.h.i.+re_ picked up her pilot at Elephant Point and entered the famous Irrawaddy. Long before her destination was in sight, twenty miles from the sea, the glorious Shwe Dagon, a s.h.i.+ning golden object, towered into view, flas.h.i.+ng in the sunlight against a background of impenetrable woods.
Rangoon, on a river navigable for nine hundred miles, is a large and important seaport and, as the wealth of one of the richest countries filters through its ports, naturally the approach is thronged with s.h.i.+pping. Our incoming liner met or overtook cargo steamers, tank s.h.i.+ps, battered tramps and heavily laden wind-jammers in the tow of straining tugs, not to mention steam-launches, barges and swarms of the local _sampan_, or small boat.
At the wharf where, amidst deafening yells and hoa.r.s.e shoutings, the _Blanks.h.i.+re_ crept to her berth, crowds of different races--brown, black, yellow and white--awaited the English mail. Pa.s.sengers were eagerly claimed by their friends and hurried away to motors and carriages; all was excitement and bustle. Alas! 'board-s.h.i.+p friends.h.i.+ps soon evaporate, and presently Shafto found himself standing on the aft-deck with his gun-case and cabin luggage, deserted and forgotten--no, for here came Hoskins, the police officer, hot and breathless.
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