We informed her of our arrival from the country, and
wanderings in the fog.
‘And you’ll say you’re not tired,
I know,’ the girl remarked, and laughed to hear
how correctly she had judged of our temper. Our
thirst and hunger, however, filled her with concern,
because of our not being used to it as she was, and
no place was open to supply our wants. Her friend,
the saucy one, accompanied by a man evidently a sailor,
joined us, and the three had a consultation away from
Temple and me, at the end of which the sailor, whose
name was Joe, raised his leg dancingly, and smacked
it. We gave him our hands to shake, and understood,
without astonishment, that we were invited on, board
his ship to partake of refreshment. We should
not have been astonished had he said on board his balloon.
Down through thick fog of a lighter colour, we made
our way to a narrow lane leading to the river-side,
where two men stood thumping their arms across their
breasts, smoking pipes, and swearing. We entered
a boat and were rowed to a ship. I was not aware
how frozen and befogged my mind and senses had become
until I had taken a desperate and long gulp of smoking
rum-and-water, and then the whole of our adventures
from morning to midnight, with the fir-trees in the
country fog, and the lamps in the London fog, and
the man who had lost his son, the fire, the Bench,
the old woman with her fowl-like cry and limbs in
the air, and the row over the misty river, swam flashing
before my eyes, and I cried out to the two girls,
who were drinking out of one glass with the sailor
Joe, my entertainer, ‘Well, I’m awake
now!’ and slept straight off the next instant.
CHAPTER XII
WE FIND OURSELVES BOUND ON A VOYAGE
It seemed to me that I had but taken a turn from right
to left, or gone round a wheel, when I repeated the
same words, and I heard Temple somewhere near me mumble
something like them. He drew a long breath, so
did I: we cleared our throats with a sort of whinny
simultaneously. The enjoyment of lying perfectly
still, refreshed, incurious, unexcited, yet having
our minds animated, excursive, reaping all the incidents
of our lives at leisure, and making a dream of our
latest experiences, kept us tranquil and incommunicative.
Occasionally we let fall a sigh fathoms deep, then
by-and-by began blowing a bit of a wanton laugh at
the end of it. I raised my foot and saw the boot
on it, which accounted for an uneasy sensation setting
in through my frame.
I said softly, ‘What a pleasure it must be for
horses to be groomed!’
‘Just what I was thinking!’ said Temple.
We started up on our elbows, and one or the other
cried:
’There’s a chart! These are bunks!
Hark at the row overhead! We’re in a ship!
The ship’s moving! Is it foggy this morning?
It’s time to get up! I’ve slept in
my clothes! Oh, for a dip! How I smell of
smoke! What a noise of a steamer! And the
squire at Riversley! Fancy Uberly’s tale!’
Copyrights
The Adventures Harry Richmond — Complete from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.