As he came near
to me, he raised his hat, and accosted me in our own language. "Mr.
George Walker, I believe?" said he.
"Yes," said I, with some little attempt at a high demeanour, -"of
the firm of Grimes, Walker, and Judkins, Friday Street, London."
"A most respectable house, I am sure," said he. "I am afraid there
has been a little mistake here."
"No mistake as to the respectability of that house," said I. I felt
that I was again alone in the world, and that it was necessary that
I should support myself. Mahmoud al Ackbar had separated himself
from me for ever. Of that I had no longer a doubt.
"Oh, none at all," said he. "But about this little expedition over
the water;" and he pointed contemptuously to the boat. "There has
been a mistake about that, Mr. Walker; I happen to be the English
Vice-Consul here."
I took off my hat and bowed. It was the first time I had ever been
addressed civilly by any English consular authority.
"And they have made me get out of bed to come down here and explain
all this to you."
"All what?" said I.
"You are a man of the world, I know, and I'll just tell it you
plainly. My old friend, Mahmoud al Ackbar, has mistaken you for Sir
George Walker, the new Lieutenant-Governor of Pegu. Sir George
Walker is here now; he has come this morning; and Mahmoud is ashamed
to face you after what has occurred. If you won't object to
withdraw with me into the hotel, I'll explain it all.
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