Convinced now that there was but one way to
escape from his Fate--Golly!--John Gale took holy orders and at
once started for London. As he stood on the deck of the steamer he
heard an imbecile chuckle in his ear. It was the simple old
clergyman: "You are going to London to join the Church, John; Golly
is going there, too, as hospital nurse. There's a pair of you!
He! he! Look after her, John, and protect her Manx simplicity."
Before John could recover himself, Golly was at his side executing
the final steps of a "cellar-door flap jig" to the light-hearted
refrain:--
"We are a simple family--we are--we are--we are!"
And even as her pure young voice arose above the screams of the
departure whistle, she threw a double back-somersault on the
quarterdeck, cleverly alighting on the spikes of the wheel before
the delighted captain.
"Jingle my electric bells," be said, looking at the bright young
thing, "but you're a regular minx--"
"I beg your pardon," interrupted John Gale, with a quick flush.
"I mean a regular MANX," said the captain hurriedly.
A singular paleness crossed the deeply religious face of John. As
the vessel rose on the waves, he passed his hand hurriedly first
across his brows and then over his high-buttoned clerical
waistcoat, that visible sign of a devoted ascetic life! Then
murmuring in his low, deep voice, "Brandy, steward," he disappeared
below.
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