"And now, Captain, what are you going to do?"
The captain gives me a long, sly, amorous look, and says:
"Well, that depends on you."
"On me?"
"Yes, on you; on you alone."
"And how is that?"
A moment of silence follows, during which, straightening up and
twisting his pointed beard, he seeks to envelop me in a seductive fluid.
"Come," he says, suddenly, "let us go straight to the point. Let us
speak squarely,--soldier-fashion. Do you wish to take Rose's place?"
I was expecting the attack. I had seen it coming from the depth of his
eyes. It does not surprise me. I receive it with a serious and unmoved
expression.
"And the wills, Captain?"
"Oh! I tear them up."