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South Wind

South Wind

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 2913    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

rather sea-sick. Confou

rtment and made him almost an invalid; a circumstance of which he was nowise proud, seeing that ill-health led to inefficiency in all walks of life. There was nothing he despised more than inefficiency. Well or ill, he always insisted on getti

y of their livers or something. That is what had happened to Thomas Heard, D.D., Bishop of Bampopo. He had been so perfect of his kind, such an exemplary pastor, that there was small chance of a return to the scenes of his episcopal labours. Anybody could have told him what would happen. He ought to have allowed for

at the thronged port was a different concern from this wretched tub, reeking with indescribable odours as it rolled in the oily swell of the past storm through which the MOZAMBIQUE had ridden without a tremor. The benches, too, were frightfully uncomfortable, and sticky with sirocco moisture under the breathless awning. Above all, there was the unavoidable spectacle of the suff

ill in turns, and the situation might have verged on the comical but for the fact that blank despair was written on the face of the mother. She evidently thought her last day had come, and still

Two more hours of disco

r the water. The g

ture which lay couched in thick mists abut its flanks and uplands. The comely outlines were barely suggested through a veil of fog. An air of irreality hung about the place. Could this be an island? A veritable island of rocks and vineyards

sed in his breviary but was looking out of the corner of his eye all the time at a pretty peasant girl reclining uncomfortably in a corner. H

Don Fra

ose," thought the Bishop

Mr. Muhlen, a flashy over-dressed personage who seemed to relish the state of affairs. He paced up and down, cool as a cucumber, trying to walk like a sailor, and blandly indifferent to the agonized fellow-creatures whom the movements

would do in her place? Throw it into the water, I fancy

measure," replied

affability. "I am so sorry. As for me, I like a little movement of the boat

on't sp

rtnight on Capri. But Nepenthe was different. The proximity to Africa, you know; the volcanic soil. Oh yes! It was obviously quite another sort of island. Business? No! He was not bound on any errand of business; not on any errand at all. Just a little pleasure trip. One owes something to one's self: N'EST-CE-PAS? And this early summer was certainly the best time for travelling. One could count on good weather; one could sleep in the afternoon, if the heat were excessive. He had telegraphed for a couple of rooms in what was described as the best hotel-he hoped the visitors staying there would be to his liking. Unfortunately-so he gathered-the loc

dinner table, with urbane acquiescence and growing distrust. Peasants and fisher fol

as contrasted with that of Russia and other countries. He evidently knew the subject. Mr. Heard, to whom music was Greek, soon found himself out of his depths. Later on, in the smoking-room, they had ind

eneral. Mr. Heard was sensitive on that point. He was not disheartened by experience. He had never allowed his judgment to be warped by those degrading aspects of womanhood which he had encountered during his work among

ched his perambulations with mixed feelings-moral disapproval combining with a small

questionab

sland. It gleamed with golden rocks and emerald patches of culture. A cluster of white houses, some town or village, lay perched on the middle heights where a playful s

from his breviary and s

ly a trace of foreign accent. "You will pardon me. I see you ar

e sight of those poor people that upset me. They seem

he rich with their finer nervous structure. Who can say? Animals also have their sufferings, but they are not encouraged

as an old-fashioned trick he ha

g with Zola. In fact, he was slightly shocked. But h

Zola?" h

refer, I think, Catulle Mendes. But I don't. I read it, you understand, in order to be able to penetrate into the minds of my penitents, many of whom refuse to deprive themselves of such books. Women

could not

ourself very w

nited States. In England, too. My mother was English. The Vatican has been

Monsignor, are you not? We are apt to associate

gins to appreciate things at their tru

st vestige.... Yes, I

n Central

young, surely,

eard

t many applicants for the place; the distance from

hop. I

imagined that his companion was t

turned Empty.' It is a phrase we apply in England to

ty! That soun

state of mind. Southern politeness, or curiosity, overcame his fears.

There will be music and fireworks and a grand procession. Our bishop is a dear old man, though not exactly what you would call a liberal," he added, with a laugh. "That i

d much about the be

ill find compatriots on the island, some ladies among them; the Duchess of San Martino, for instance, who happ

to interest me. What is

he saint than I do; one would think he dined with him every evening. But he is a great hermit-Mr. Eames, I mean. And it is so good of our old bishop to come over," h

as often taken me three weeks to travel from one end to the oth

om of Ital

his reward-to be fooled with the grossest of fables. Maybe he remembered other occasions when Englishmen had developed a queer sense of humour which he utterly failed to appreciate. A liar. Or possibly a lunatic; one of thos

owed in another carriage. He enjoyed the drive along that winding upward track; he admired the festal decorations of the houses, the gardens and vineyards, the many-ti

it," he

ng it would be before

unt he had undertaken

gl

he quay with the pretty peasant girl of the steamer. He had engaged the fastest driver on the island, and was

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