(Written specially for the _Sunday Englishman_, by the Rev. JAMES
CALIBAN, D.D.)[8]
“_By the peace among the peoples, men shall know ye serve the
Lord._”--DEUTERONOMY xvi. 7.
... Leaping into a well-appointed cab, I was soon whirled to a
terminus which shall be nameless, not a hundred miles from Brandon
Street, and had the good luck to swing myself into the guard’s van
just as the train was steaming out from the platform. I plunged at
once _in medias res_, and some two hours later alit in the sunny
and growing residential town of Worthing. I hailed a vehicle which
plied for hire, and begged the driver to conduct me to 29, Darbhai
Road, “if indeed,” to quote my own words to the Jehu, “if indeed it
be worth a drive. I understand it is close upon a mile.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the honest fellow, “You will find, sir, that it
is quite a mile, sir. Indeed, sir, we call it a little over a mile,
sir.”
I was soon whirled, as fast as the type of carriage permitted, to
Laburnum Lodge, Darbhai Road, where a neat-handed Phyllis smilingly
opened the door for me, and took my card up to her master, bidding
me be seated awhile in the hall. I had the leisure to notice
that it was lit by two stained glass panels above the entrance,
representing Alfred the Great and Queen Victoria. In a few minutes
the servant returned with the message that her master would be down
in a moment, and begged me to enter his parlour until he could
attend me, as he was just then in his study, looking out of window
at a cricket match in an adjoining field.
I found myself in a richly-furnished room, surrounded by curious
relics of travel, and I was delighted to notice the little
characteristic touches that marked the personal tastes of my host.
Several skulls adorned the walls, and I observed that any natural
emotion they might cause was heightened by a few tasteful lines
such as actors paint upon their faces. Thus one appeared to grin
beyond the ordinary, another was fitted with false eyes, and all
had that peculiar subtle expression upon which genius loves to
repose in its moments of leisure. I had barely time to mark a few
more notable matters in my surroundings, when I was aware that I
was in the presence of my host.
“No,” or “Yes,” said the great man, smiling through his spectacles
and puffing a cloud of smoke towards me in a genial fashion, “I do
not in the least mind telling you how it is done. I do not think,”
he added drily, “that any other fellows will pull quite the same
chock-a-block haul, even if I do give them the fall of the halyard.
You must excuse these technical terms; I make it a point to speak
as I write--I think it is more natural.”