But at length, by our own
sagacity, we found a French restaurant, where there was a French
waiter, some fair French cooking, some so-called French wine, and
French coffee to conclude the whole. I never entered into the
feelings of Jack on land so completely as when I tasted that coffee.
I suppose we had one of the 'private rooms for families' at Reunion
House. It was very small, furnished with a bed, a chair, and some
clothes-pegs; and it derived all that was necessary for the life of
the human animal through two borrowed lights; one looking into the
passage, and the second opening, without sash, into another
apartment, where three men fitfully snored, or in intervals of
wakefulness, drearily mumbled to each other all night long. It will
be observed that this was almost exactly the disposition of the room
in M'Naughten's story. Jones had the bed; I pitched my camp upon the
floor; he did not sleep until near morning, and I, for my part, never
closed an eye.
At sunrise I heard a cannon fired; and shortly afterwards the men in
the next room gave over snoring for good, and began to rustle over
their toilettes.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136