I could almost be tempted
to call it a maircy that your friend that owns the yacht has
sprained his ankle and cannot come. I misdoubt me it will not look
judeecial to have Captain Kearney's officers squatting on the
floor.
LADY CICELY. Oh, they won't mind. What about the prisoners?
RANKIN. They are to be broat here from the town gaol presently.
LADY CICELY. And where is that silly old Cadi, and my handsome
Sheikh Sidi? I must see them before the inquiry,or they'll give
Captain Kearney quite a false impression of what happened.
RANKIN. But ye cannot see them. They decamped last night, back to
their castles in the Atlas.
LADY CICELY (delighted). No!
RANKIN. Indeed and they did. The poor Cadi is so terrified by all
he has haird of the destruction of the Spanish fleet, that he
daren't trust himself in the captain's hands. (Looking
reproachfully at her) On your journey back here, ye seem to have
frightened the poor man yourself, Leddy Ceecily, by talking to him
about the fanatical Chreestianity of the Americans. Ye have
largely yourself to thank if he's gone.
LADY CICELY. Allah be praised! WHAT a weight off our minds, Mr.
Rankin!
RANKIN (puzzled). And why? Do ye not understand how necessary
their evidence is?
LADY CICELY. THEIR evidence! It would spoil everything. They would
perjure themselves out of pure spite against poor Captain
Brassbound.
RANKIN (amazed). Do ye call him POOR Captain Brassbound! Does not
your leddyship know that this Brasshound is--Heaven forgive me for
judging him!--a precious scoundrel? Did ye not hear what Sir
Howrrd told me on the yacht last night?
LADY CICELY.
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