Blue Jackets Part 50
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"Couldn't I?" cried Smith. "Look here."
He swung his arm round me, took three steps, and dropped on to the locker, turning quite white with pain.
"Told you so," cried Barkins, springing up. "Waltz? I should just think!--oh, murder!"
He sat down suddenly to hold his leg tightly with both hands, giving Smith a dismal look.
"Oh dear!" he groaned; "what a long time it does take a wound to get well in this plaguey country. I know that knife was poisoned."
"Nonsense!" I cried, unable to restrain my mirth. "Why, you are both getting on famously."
"But Dishy might have let us go to the ball last night."
"Play fair," I said; "we've been out to seven entertainments."
"Well, what of that? They've been to a dozen. It's all old Dishy's way of showing his authority. I'm sure we all work hard when we're on duty, and run risks enough."
"Go on, you old grumbler. Aren't we to go up the river shooting on Thursday with Mr Brooke and the doctor?"
"Yes, that's right enough; but we shall be off again soon on another cruise, and get no more fun for long enough."
"I say, let's ask for a run ash.o.r.e to-day."
"And get chivvied by the pigtails, same as we did down at that other place."
"Oh, but perhaps they'll be more civil here," I said.
Smith burst out laughing.
"Why, didn't they pelt you, and shy mud at the skipper?"
"Oh, if you're afraid, you can stop," I said. "Tanner and I can go."
"Afraid!" cried Smith, doubling his fist and holding it within an inch of my nose. "Say afraid again, you miserable insect, and I'll flatten you."
"Couldn't with that hand," I said, and I caught his wrist.
"Oh, don't! Murder!" he roared. "I say, you shouldn't. It's like touching one's arm with red-hot iron."
"Then be civil," I said.
"Ah, only wait. I say, Tanner, our day's coming. As soon as we're both quite strong he has got to pay for all this, hasn't he?"
"Oh, bother! I say, the skipper and Dishy are both going ash.o.r.e to-day with an escort of Jacks and marines."
"Are they?" I said eagerly.
"Yes; there's some game or another on. Let's ask leave, and take old Ching with us."
"Want to try puppy-pie again?" said Smith, grinning.
"I want to do something for a change. I know! I'll go and see the doctor, and tell him we want a walk in the country to collect flowers, and ask him if he'll name them."
"Well, he can't give us leave."
"No; but he'll ask Dishy to let us off."
"Bravo!" cried Smith. "Off you go. I say, though, we must have old Ching too. You see if he don't come out in his new gown!"
"What new gown?" I said.
"Hallo! didn't you know? He went ash.o.r.e yesterday and bought himself a new blue coat. Not a cotton one, but silk, real silk, my boy, and beckoned me to come and see it,--beckoned with one of his long claws.
He's letting his fingernails grow now, and getting to be quite a swell."
"Oh yes; old Ching's getting quite the gentleman. He says he wrote home to his broker to sell the fancee shop. What do you think he said, Gnat?"
"How should I know?" I replied.
"That it wasn't proper for a gentleman in Queen Victolia's service to keep a fancee shop."
"Murder! Look at that!" cried Smith. "Why, you yellow-skinned old Celestial, you were listening!"
Barkins and I picked up each something to throw at the round, smooth, smiling face thrust in at the door, which was held close to the neck, so that we saw a head and nothing more.
"No flow thing at Ching," the Chinaman said softly. "Offlicer don't flow thing. Ching come in?"
"Yes," said Barkins, "come in. What is it?"
Ching entered looking very important, and gave his head a shake to make his tail fall neatly between his shoulders, and drew the long blue sleeves of his gown over the backs of his hands till only the tips of his fingers, with their very long nails, were visible.
He advanced smiling at us each in turn, and bowing his round head like a china mandarin.
"You all velly good boy?" he said softly.
"Oh yes; beauties," said Barkins. "What's up?"
"You likee ask leave go for bit walkee walkee?"
"Don't!" roared Smith. "Don't talk like a nurse to us. Why don't you speak plain English?"
"Yes; Ching speak ploper Inglis. No speakee pigeon Englis. All ploper.
Interpleter. You likee go sh.o.r.e for walkee, see something?"
"You beggar, you were listening," cried Barkins. "How long had you been there?"
"Ching just come ask young genelman likee walkee walkee."
"Yes, allee likee walkee walkee velly much," said Barkins, imitating the Chinaman's squeak. "Why? Can you give us leave?"
Blue Jackets Part 50
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Blue Jackets Part 50 summary
You're reading Blue Jackets Part 50. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 617 views.
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