I could immediately perceive the two dark figures of the
pilot and his wife, followed by the dog, glide away as noiselessly as if
they had been spirits of the night, until they were lost under the shade
of the thick jungle.
I turned in, and--what will not youth and fatigue do?--I fell once more
fast asleep, and never opened my eyes until Obed shook me in my cot
about eight o'clock in the morning.
"Good morning, Lieutenant. I have sent up your breakfast, but you don't
seem inclined to eat it."
"Don't you believe it, my dear Obed. I have been sound asleep till this
moment; only stop till I have slipped on my--those shoes, if you please
thank you--waistcoat--that will do. Now--coffee, fish, yams, and
plantains, and biscuit, white as snow, and short as--and eggs and
zounds! claret to finish with?--Why, Obed, you surely don't desire that
I should enjoy all these delicacies in solitary blessedness?"
"Why, I intend to breakfast with you, if my society be not
disagreeable."
"Disagreeable! Not in the least, quite the contrary. That black
grouper looks remarkably beautiful. Another piece of yam, if you
please.--Shall I fill you a cup of coffee, Obed? For my own part, I
always stow the ground tier of my cargo dry, and then take a
topdressing. Write this down as an approved axiom with all thorough
breakfast eaters. Why, man, you are off your feed; what are you turning
up your ear for, in that incomprehensible fashion, like a duck in
thunder? A little of the claret--thank you.
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