"I thought--you--were on the Golden Cloud," he stammered.
Miss Tyrell shook her head and looked down. "I missed the ship," she said, pensively.
"Missed the ship?" shouted the other; "missed the ship? Did Flower miss it too?"
"I"m afraid not," said Miss Tyrell, even more pensively than before.
"Good heavens, I never heard of such a thing," said Fraser; "how ever did you manage to do it?"
"I went to lie down a little while on Sat.u.r.day afternoon," said Poppy, reflectively; "I"d got my box packed and everything ready; when I got up it was past seven o"clock, and then I knew it was no use. Ships won"t wait, you know."
Fraser gazed at her in amaze. In his mind"s eye he still saw the deck of the Golden Cloud; but Poppy"s deck-chair was empty, and Flower, in place of exchanging glances with her, was walking about in a state equally compounded, of wrath and bewilderment.
"And you had given up your berth in the City?" said Fraser, at length, in concern.
The consciousness of a little colour in her cheek which she could not repress affected Miss Tyrell"s temper. "No," she said, sharply.
"Didn"t you intend to go, then?" asked the bewildered Fraser.
"I--oh, will you give me my gloves, please, before I forget them?" said Miss Tyrell, coldly.
It was Fraser"s turn to colour, and he burnt a rich crimson as he fished them out.
"I was going to take care of them for you," he said, awkwardly. "I came to look after a pipe I thought I"d left here."
"I saw you taking care of them," was the reply.
There was a pause, during which Miss Tyrell took a seat and, folding her hands in her lap, gazed at him with the calm gaze which comes of perfect misdoing and the feminine determination not to own up to it. The room was no longer shabby, and Fraser was conscious of a strange exaltation.
"I understood that you had given notice in the City," he said, slowly; "but I"m very glad that you didn"t."
Miss Tyrell shook her head, and stooping down adjusted the fire-stove ornament.
"Didn"t you intend to go?" repeated the tactful seaman.
"I"d left it open," said Miss Tyrell, thoughtfully; "I hadn"t definitely accepted Captain Martin"s invitation. You jump at conclusions so, but of course when I found that Captain Flower had shipped before the mast for my sake, why, I had to go."
"So you had," said Fraser, staring.
"There was no help for it," continued Miss Tyrell.
"Didn"t seem like it," said the more accurate Fraser.
His head was in a whirl, and he tried vainly to think of the exact terms in which she had announced her intention to emigrate, and combated the objections which he thought himself justified in advancing. He began to remember in a misty, un-certain fashion that they were somewhat vague and disjointed, and for one brief moment he wondered whether she had ever had any idea of going at all. One glance at the small figure of probity opposite was enough, and he repelled the idea as unworthy.
"I believe that you are sorry I didn"t go," said Poppy, suddenly.
"I"m sorry for Flower," said the other.
"He will be back in six or seven months," said Poppy, gently; "that will soon pa.s.s away. I shall not be very old to marry even then. Perhaps it is all for the best--I don"t like--"
"Don"t like?" prompted Fraser.
"Don"t like to be hurried," continued Miss Tyrell, looking down.
There was another pause. The girl got up and, walking to the window, gazed out upon the street.
"There is a nice air in the streets now," she said at length, without turning round.
Fraser started. Politeness and inclination fought with conscience. The allies won, but inclination got none of the credit.
"Would you care to go for a walk?" he asked.
Miss Tyrell turned and regarded him with an unmistakable air of surprise.
"No, thank you," she said, in a manner which indicated reproof.
Fraser shifted restlessly. "I thought that was what you meant," he said, indignantly.
"You jump at conclusions, as I said before," remarked Miss Tyrell. "It wouldn"t be right."
"I don"t see any harm in it," said Fraser, stoutly; "we"ve been before, and Flower knows of it."
The girl shook her head. "No," she said, firmly.
To her surprise, that ended the matter. The rattle of traffic and the hum of voices came in at the open window; the room seemed unwontedly quiet by contrast. Miss Tyrell sat reaping the empty reward of virtue, and bestowing occasional glances on the fine specimen of marine obtuseness in the armchair.
"I hope that I am not keeping you from a walk," she observed, at length.
"No," said Fraser.
He rose in confusion, wondering whether this was a hint for him to go, and after a supreme mental effort decided that it was, and murmured something about getting back to the ship. Poppy shook hands with him patiently. It is always a sad thing to see a fine young man lacking in intelligence. Some of her pity perhaps showed in her eyes.
"Are you going?" she asked, with a shade of surprise in her voice.
Fraser gazed at her in perplexity. "I suppose so," he murmured.
"Which means that you want a walk, but don"t like leaving me here alone, I suppose," said Miss Tyrell, resignedly. "Very well, I will come."
She left him for a moment in search of her hat, and then, putting aside the gloves she was about to don in favour of those he had endeavoured to secrete, led the way downstairs. Her composure was sufficient for two, which was just the quant.i.ty required at that moment.
CHAPTER XXI.
The summer pa.s.sed quickly. All too quickly for Captain Barber, who said that it was the shortest he ever remembered. But, then, his memory, although greatly improved, was still none of the best, many things which Mrs. Church fondly and frequently referred to having escaped it altogether.
He even forgot that he was to be married in October, and in these circ.u.mstances Mrs. Gibson, Miss Banks, and Mrs. Church put their banns up. This acted as a specific, and Captain Barber, putting the best face he could on the matter, went and interviewed the verger on his own behalf.
The wedding-day found him resigned, but dazed, The morning air was crisp and chill, with a faint odour of dead leaves and the aromatic smell of chrysanthemums which decked the front garden. The house was as clean as a new pin, or the deck of the Foam, which, having been thoroughly scrubbed down in honour of the occasion, was now slowly drying in the sun. Down below, the crew, having finished their labours for the day, were anxiously attiring themselves in their Sunday best.
The grizzled head of Ben popped out at the companion and sniffed heartily at the smell of wet deck. His coat was of black, and his new boots creaked deliciously as he slowly paced the deck and affected ignorance of the little cl.u.s.ter of heads at the forecastle hatch. He went below again, and a murmur, gentle but threatening, rose against Tim.
"You wait," said the youth, sharply.
"If you"ve made me waste eighteenpence, Timmy," said a stout A. B. named Jones, "the Lord ha" mercy on you, "cos I won"t."
The cook, who was clinging to the ladder with his head level with the deck, gave an excited gasp. "Tim"s all right," he said; "look there."
The last words were jerked out of him by reason of the weight of his friends, who were now leaning on him, breathing heavily under the stress of strong excitement. Ben was on deck again, and in an obviously unconcerned manner was displaying a silk hat of great height to all who cared to look. The mate"s appearance alone, without the flags which dressed the schooner, would have indicated a festival.
Three or four labourers sunning themselves on the quay were much impressed and regarded him stolidy; a fisherman, presuming upon the fact that they both earned their living on the water, ventured to address him.
"Now, then," said Jones, as he took something reverently from an empty bunk, "who"s going up fust?"
"I ain"t," said Tim.
"Wot about you, cookie?" said Jones.
"Well, wot about me?" demanded the other.
"I thought p"r"aps you"d like to lead the way," said Mr. Jones, mildly.
"You thought wrong, then," said the cook, shortly.
"It was jist a compliment," urged Mr. Jones.
"I don"t like flattery," said the cook; "never did."
Mr. Jones sighed and shook his head irresolutely. The other A.B. patted him on the back.
"You look a fair bloomin" treat," he said, heartily. "You go up fust; you look as though you"ve slep" in one a"most."
"None o" your larks, you know," remarked Mr. Jones, with suspicious sourness; "no backing out of it and leavin" me there by myself."
There was a chorus of virtuous but profane indignation. It was so indignant that Mr. Jones apologised, and stood for some time regarding the article in his hand with the face of a small child eyeing a large powder. Then he clapped it on his head and went on deck.
The mate was just talking to the fisherman about an uncle of his (born since his promotion) who had commanded a brig, when his voice failed him, and he gazed open-mouthed at a stout seaman who had just come up on deck. On the stout seaman"s face was the look of one who sees a vision many miles off; on the stout seaman"s head was a high hat of antique pattern which had suffered in the brushing. To avoid the mate"s eye he folded his arms and, leaning over the side, gazed across the river. Words trembled on the mate"s lips, but they died away in a squeak as a little top-hatted procession of three issued coyly from the forecastle and, ranging itself beside Mr. Jones, helped him to look across the river.
"I never did," said the fisherman. "What are we a-coming to?"
The mate did not stay to inform him. He walked hastily to the quartette and, bursting with rage, asked Jones what he meant by it.
"Mean by wot, sir?" asked Jones, in surprise.
"Top-hats," said the mate, choking.
The four turned and regarded him stolidly, keeping as close together as possible for the sake of moral support and the safety of their head-gear.
"For the weddin", sir," said Jones, as though that explained everything.
"You take "em off," said the mate, sharply. "I won"t let you wear "em."
"I beg your pardin," said Jones, with great politeness, "we got these "ere "ats for the weddin", an" we"re a-goin" to wear "em."
He took the offending article off and brushed it tenderly with his coat-sleeve, while the furious mate looked a.s.sault and battery at the other three. Tim, whose hat came well down over his eyes, felt comparatively safe; but the cook, conscious that his perched lightly on the top of his head, drew back a pace. Then he uttered an exclamation as Captain Nibletts, who was officiating as best man, came hurriedly down the cliff.
"Hats?" said the little skipper, disengaging himself from the mate"s grasp, as he came on board. "Yes, I don"t mind."
"Wot about Capt"in Barber?" demanded the mate, impressively.
"If they was pudding-basins "e wouldn"t mind," said Nibletts, testily; "he"s that nervous "e don"t know what "e"s doing hardly. He was raving like a madman for five minutes cos "e couldn"t fasten his collar, and then I found he"d forgot to put his shirt on. He don"t care."
He hurried down to the cabin and then came bustling up again. His small face was strained with worry, and the crew eyed him respectfully as he came forward and dealt out white satin favours.
"Cap"in Barber"ll be all right with you looking arter "im, sir," said Jones, with strong conviction.
"That he will," said the cook, nodding.
"There"s some whisky in a bottle in my locker, cook," said Nibletts, dancing about nervously; "give the hands one drink each, cook. Only one, mind."
The men thanked him, and with kindly eyes watched him go ash.o.r.e. The cook went down for the whisky, and Tim, diving into the forecastle, brought up four mugs.
"He must ha" meant another bottle," said Jones, as the cook came slowly up again with a bottle containing one dose.
"There ain"t another," said the cook; "he"s "alf off "is "ed."
There was a pained silence. "We must toss for it," said Jones, at length; "that is, unless you chaps don"t want it."
"Toss," said three voices speaking as one.
Jones sighed, and the coins were produced. The prize fell to Tim, and he leaned against the windla.s.s and slowly poured the yellow liquid into his mug.
"There"s more than I thought there was," remarked Mr. Jones, in surprise.
"Bottles is deceiving," said the cook.
"It ain"t the fust toss as Tim "as won," said the third man, darkly.
The ordinary seaman made no reply, but, stepping over to the water-cask, added with great care a little water.
"Here"s your "ealth, chaps," he said, good-naturedly, as he drank, "and may you never want a drink."