CHAPTER ONE.
A FRIEND--AND A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
"Hillo, Singleton, old chap, how are you?" exclaimed a young fellow of
about eighteen years of age, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of a
lad about his own age, who, on a certain fine July day in the year of
grace 1894, was standing gazing into the window of a shop in Piccadilly.
The speaker was a somewhat slightly-built youth, rather tall and slim,
by no means ill-looking, of sallow complexion and a cast of features
that betrayed his foreign origin, although his English was faultless.
The young man whom he had addressed was, on the other hand, a typical
Englishman, tall, broad, with "athlete" written large all over him; fair
of skin, with a thick crop of close-cut, ruddy-golden locks that curled
crisply on his well-shaped head, and a pair of clear, grey-blue eyes
that had a trick of seeming to look right into the very soul of anyone
with whom their owner happened to engage in conversation. Just now,
however, there was a somewhat languid look in those same eyes that,
coupled with an extreme pallor of complexion and gauntness of frame,
seemed to tell a tale of ill health. The singularly handsome face,
however, lighted up with an expression of delighted surprise as its
owner turned sharply round and answered heartily:
"Why, Carlos, my dear old chap, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure!
We were talking about you only last night--Letchmere, Woolaston,
Poltimore, and I, all old Alleynians who had foregathered to dine at the
Holborn. Where in the world have you sprung from?"
"Plymouth last, where I arrived yesterday, _en route_ to London from
Cuba," was the answer. "And you are the second old Alleynian whom I
have already met. Lancaster--you remember him, of course--came up in
the same compartment with me all the way. He is an engineer now in the
dockyard at Devonport, and was on his way to join his people, who are
off to Switzerland, I think he said."
"1100591876"
A FRIEND--AND A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
"Hillo, Singleton, old chap, how are you?" exclaimed a young fellow of
about eighteen years of age, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of a
lad about his own age, who, on a certain fine July day in the year of
grace 1894, was standing gazing into the window of a shop in Piccadilly.
The speaker was a somewhat slightly-built youth, rather tall and slim,
by no means ill-looking, of sallow complexion and a cast of features
that betrayed his foreign origin, although his English was faultless.
The young man whom he had addressed was, on the other hand, a typical
Englishman, tall, broad, with "athlete" written large all over him; fair
of skin, with a thick crop of close-cut, ruddy-golden locks that curled
crisply on his well-shaped head, and a pair of clear, grey-blue eyes
that had a trick of seeming to look right into the very soul of anyone
with whom their owner happened to engage in conversation. Just now,
however, there was a somewhat languid look in those same eyes that,
coupled with an extreme pallor of complexion and gauntness of frame,
seemed to tell a tale of ill health. The singularly handsome face,
however, lighted up with an expression of delighted surprise as its
owner turned sharply round and answered heartily:
"Why, Carlos, my dear old chap, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure!
We were talking about you only last night--Letchmere, Woolaston,
Poltimore, and I, all old Alleynians who had foregathered to dine at the
Holborn. Where in the world have you sprung from?"
"Plymouth last, where I arrived yesterday, _en route_ to London from
Cuba," was the answer. "And you are the second old Alleynian whom I
have already met. Lancaster--you remember him, of course--came up in
the same compartment with me all the way. He is an engineer now in the
dockyard at Devonport, and was on his way to join his people, who are
off to Switzerland, I think he said."
The Cruise of the Thetis
CHAPTER ONE.
A FRIEND--AND A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
"Hillo, Singleton, old chap, how are you?" exclaimed a young fellow of
about eighteen years of age, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of a
lad about his own age, who, on a certain fine July day in the year of
grace 1894, was standing gazing into the window of a shop in Piccadilly.
The speaker was a somewhat slightly-built youth, rather tall and slim,
by no means ill-looking, of sallow complexion and a cast of features
that betrayed his foreign origin, although his English was faultless.
The young man whom he had addressed was, on the other hand, a typical
Englishman, tall, broad, with "athlete" written large all over him; fair
of skin, with a thick crop of close-cut, ruddy-golden locks that curled
crisply on his well-shaped head, and a pair of clear, grey-blue eyes
that had a trick of seeming to look right into the very soul of anyone
with whom their owner happened to engage in conversation. Just now,
however, there was a somewhat languid look in those same eyes that,
coupled with an extreme pallor of complexion and gauntness of frame,
seemed to tell a tale of ill health. The singularly handsome face,
however, lighted up with an expression of delighted surprise as its
owner turned sharply round and answered heartily:
"Why, Carlos, my dear old chap, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure!
We were talking about you only last night--Letchmere, Woolaston,
Poltimore, and I, all old Alleynians who had foregathered to dine at the
Holborn. Where in the world have you sprung from?"
"Plymouth last, where I arrived yesterday, _en route_ to London from
Cuba," was the answer. "And you are the second old Alleynian whom I
have already met. Lancaster--you remember him, of course--came up in
the same compartment with me all the way. He is an engineer now in the
dockyard at Devonport, and was on his way to join his people, who are
off to Switzerland, I think he said."
A FRIEND--AND A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
"Hillo, Singleton, old chap, how are you?" exclaimed a young fellow of
about eighteen years of age, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of a
lad about his own age, who, on a certain fine July day in the year of
grace 1894, was standing gazing into the window of a shop in Piccadilly.
The speaker was a somewhat slightly-built youth, rather tall and slim,
by no means ill-looking, of sallow complexion and a cast of features
that betrayed his foreign origin, although his English was faultless.
The young man whom he had addressed was, on the other hand, a typical
Englishman, tall, broad, with "athlete" written large all over him; fair
of skin, with a thick crop of close-cut, ruddy-golden locks that curled
crisply on his well-shaped head, and a pair of clear, grey-blue eyes
that had a trick of seeming to look right into the very soul of anyone
with whom their owner happened to engage in conversation. Just now,
however, there was a somewhat languid look in those same eyes that,
coupled with an extreme pallor of complexion and gauntness of frame,
seemed to tell a tale of ill health. The singularly handsome face,
however, lighted up with an expression of delighted surprise as its
owner turned sharply round and answered heartily:
"Why, Carlos, my dear old chap, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure!
We were talking about you only last night--Letchmere, Woolaston,
Poltimore, and I, all old Alleynians who had foregathered to dine at the
Holborn. Where in the world have you sprung from?"
"Plymouth last, where I arrived yesterday, _en route_ to London from
Cuba," was the answer. "And you are the second old Alleynian whom I
have already met. Lancaster--you remember him, of course--came up in
the same compartment with me all the way. He is an engineer now in the
dockyard at Devonport, and was on his way to join his people, who are
off to Switzerland, I think he said."
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The Cruise of the Thetis
The Cruise of the Thetis
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Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940015830286 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | SAP |
| Publication date: | 12/04/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 265 KB |
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