I could not fail to be reminded of my
own experience at the Occidental telephone. The hero
of three styles, Dickson, Goddedaal, or Carthew, must
be the owner of a lively--or a loaded--conscience, and
the reflection recalled to me the photograph found on
board the FLYING SCUD; just such a man, I reasoned,
would be capable of just such starts and crises, and I
inclined to think that Goddedaal (or Carthew) was the
mainspring of the mystery.
One thing was plain: as long as the TEMPEST was in
reach, I must make the acquaintance of both Sebright
and the doctor. To this end, I excused myself with Mr.
Fowler, returned to Honolulu, and passed the remainder
of the day hanging vainly round the cool verandahs of
the hotel. It was near nine o'clock at night before I
was rewarded.
"That is the gentleman you were asking for," said the
clerk.
I beheld a man in tweeds, of an incomparable languor of
demeanour, and carrying a cane with genteel effort.
From the name, I had looked to find a sort of Viking
and young ruler of the battle and the tempest; and I
was the more disappointed, and not a little alarmed, to
come face to face with this impracticable type.
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