Leaving the City
Mergui, as I see it from the Ramapoora, is a narrow strait, with a double-peaked island on one side, and a low, palm-clad shore, rising to a hilly eminence, on the other. On this shore is built the town, a long line of thatched huts on piles along the water s edge. The summit of the hill is crowned with a white pagoda of golden rings and a glittering spire, with monasteries of many roofs, with a great court-house, and the houses of the British officers. A long jetty of rough stone protrudes across the foreshore into the water. Two launches lie at anchor, four cutters, and a multitude of little native craft. While I am yet engaged upon the scene before me, there enters up the ladder a yellow mariner, with a sea-tanned face, a grizzled beard, a straw hat in a white cloth cover and black ribbon, seedy clothes held together by large iridescent mother-of-pearl buttons. His name, he states with a Nourish, is Captain Le Fevre, and he launches forthwith into the true adventure.
I his," he remarks, embracing the settlement in a