I do not believe it is pride,
either, nor any feeling of rank and exclusiveness that keeps her so
shut in, else why should she be so pleasant to me? It is some great
misery, I'm sure. God help, and pity her!"
CHAPTER VIII.
NIGHTMARE AND GOSSIP.
I think it must have been half nightmare, or perhaps too much frozen
pudding at dinner, after the long warm tramp up Gibraltar's steep
sides; at any rate it all happened just as I tell you. Hope retired
somewhat earlier than the rest, leaving Faith in the saloon, where the
passengers were enjoying an impromptu concert given by a Romany man and
his two daughters, who had come on board at Gibraltar to exhibit their
skill with mandolin, tambourine, voice, and guitar.
It grew a bit monotonous and shrill, after the novelty wore off, and as
Hope had become interested in a book some one had lent her, which told
about the old pirates of Algiers and their traffic in Christian slaves,
she stole away to her stateroom, slipped into a loose gown, and turning
on the electric light at her bedhead, settled down for an enjoyable
evening.
It proved to be a blood-curdling narrative, filled with the accounts of
helpless crews butchered by pirates and their passengers, men, women,
and children carried off in chains, to be sold as slaves in the wicked
old Algerian city. Yet, though so thrilling, she was very tired, and
in time it was difficult to keep her place and realize just what it was
all about.
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