nowhere to be seen, and--I have not seen
him since."
"Nor heard of or from him?" asked Foster.
"No."
At this point, as there were symptoms of another breakdown, our middy
became anxious, and entreated Hester to go on. With a strong effort she
controlled her feelings.
"Well, then, Ben-Ahmed brought me here, and, introducing me to his
wives--he has four of them, only think!--said he had brought home a
little wife for his son Osman. Of course I thought they were joking,
for you know girls of my age are never allowed to marry in England; but
after a time I began to see that they meant it, and, d'you know--By the
way, what is your name?"
"Foster--George Foster."
"Well, Mr Foster, I was going to say that I _cannot_ help wishing and
hoping that their son may _never_ come home! Isn't that sinful?"
"I don't know much about the sin of it," said Foster, "but I fervently
hope the same thing from the very bottom of my heart."
"And, oh!" continued Hester, whimpering a little, "you can't think what
a relief it is to be able to talk with you about it. It would have been
a comfort to talk even to our big dog here about it, if it could only
have understood English. But, now," continued the poor little creature,
while the troubled look returned to her eyebrows, "what _is_ to be
done?"
"Escape--somehow!" said Foster promptly.
"But nothing would induce me to even try to escape without my father,"
said Hester.
This was a damper to our midshipman. To rescue a little girl seemed to
him a mere nothing, in the glowing state of his heroic soul at that
moment, but to rescue her "very big, strong, and brave" father at the
same time did not appear so easy. Still, something _must_ be attempted
in that way.
"Tell me," he said, "what is your father like?"
"Tall, handsome, sweet, ex--"
"Yes, yes. I know. But I mean colour of hair, kind of nose, etcetera;
be more particular, and do be quick! I don't like to hurry you, but
remember the possible scourging to death that hangs over me!"
"Well, he is very broad and strong, a Roman nose, large sweet mouth
always smiling, large grey eyes--such loving eyes, too--with iron-grey
hair, moustache, and beard. You see, although it is not the fashion in
England to wear beards, my dear father thinks it right to do so, for he
is fond, he says, of doing only those things that he can give a good
reason for, and as he can see no reason whatever for shaving off his
moustachios
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