The wife flinched and looked about but he persisted: "So much better, my love--this is only my humble tribute to her--so _much_ better is religion, even her religion, without the liberal arts than the liberal arts without religion. Faith is the foundation, they are the upper works."
"Dear, you should have been a preacher!"
"No, I"d always be preaching that one sermon. If I didn"t tell it to you, I"d have to tell it to her, or make you tell her."
Mrs. Gilmore had not told her, but between the two women, across the gulf between them, there had grown such a commerce of silent esteem that neither Hugh nor Ramsey knew which one"s modest liberalism to admire most. To Ramsey it was nothing against the matron that she was not nursing the immigrant sick. Only Madame Hayle was allowed to do that, and the parson"s wife, being quite without madame"s art of doing as she pleased, had had to submit conscience and compa.s.sions to the captain"s forbiddal, repeated by the commodore and Hugh. But after the play she had insisted, "strict orders or none, and whether her children were four or forty-four," on entering the service of the busy Gilmores, "no matter how," and was now, with old Joy, in the pilot-house, a most timely successor to the actor"s wife in the social care of Ramsey.
For to Ramsey, in this first bereavement of her life, sleep was as abhorrent as if her brother"s burial were already at hand. Grief was good, for grief was love. Sleep was heartlessness. Moreover, in sleep, only in sleep, there was no growth. Of course, that was not true; only yesterday and the day before she had grown consciously between evening and morning, grown wonderfully. But she had forgotten that and in every fibre of her being felt a frenzy for growth, for getting on, like the frenzy of a bird left behind by the flock. All the boat"s human life, all its majestic going--led on by the stars--and especially all those by whose command or guidance it went, made for growth. So, too, did this dear Mrs. So-and-so, who could so kindly understand how one in deep sorrow may go on seeing the drollery of things. Grief, love, solace, growth, she was all of them in one. If she, Ramsey, might neither nurse the sick with her mother nor watch with Mrs. Gilmore and "Harriet," here was this dear, fair lady with the tenderest, most enlightening words of faith and comfort that ever had fallen on her ears; words never too eager or too many, but always just in time and volume to satisfy grief"s fitful questionings.
For refuge they had tried every quarter of these upper decks; now paced them, now stood, now sat, and had found each best in its turn; but such open-air seclusion itself drew notice, made notice more felt, and so the dusk of the pilot-house had soon been found best of all. It remained so now--while the great chimneys out forward breathed soothingly, and a mile astern glimmered the _Westwood_, and a mile ahead glimmered the _Antelope_, and here among the few occupants of the visitors" bench there drifted a soft, alluring gossip about each newly turned bend of the most marvellous of rivers. To nestle back in its larboard corner while now some one came up and in and now some one slipped down and out, and while ever the pilot"s head and shoulders and the upper spokes of his vigilant wheel stood outlined against the twinkling sky and rippling air, was like resting one"s head on the _Votaress"s_ bosom.
And yet another reason made sleep unthinkable. He who had said, "I need you," was awake, was on watch. Now that the feud, blessed thought, was all off, sworn off, and a lingering mistrust of the twins seemed quite unsisterly, probably that need of her, or illusion of need, had pa.s.sed.
Well, if so he ought to say so! For here were great cares and dangers yet. The river was out of all its bounds. Most of those bounds themselves and the great plantations behind them were under the swirling deluge. The waters of Scrubgra.s.s Bend, for instance, were crosscutting over Scrubgra.s.s Towhead in one league-wide sheet, and Islands Seventy-this-and-that and Islands Sixty-that-and-this were under them to their tree-tops. These things might be less fearful in fact than in show, or might be a matter wherein it was only a trifle more imbecile to think of her helping than in some others. Yet here were officers and servants of the boat busy out of turn and omitting routine duties unfortunate to omit and which she might perform if they would but let her. She noticed the presence of both pilots at once--Watson at the wheel, Ned on the bench. No wonder, with so awesome a charge; guiding a boat like this, teeming with human souls and driven pell-mell through such a war of elemental forces in desert darkness, with never a beacon light from point to point, from hour to hour; running every chute, with a chute behind nearly every point or island, and the vast bends looping on each other like the folds of a python and but little more to be trusted.
And here was this "Harriet" affair, a care and danger that as yet smouldered, but at any moment, with or without aid of the twins, might blaze. No one mentioned it, but you could smell it like smoke. And here was that supreme care and danger, the plague, with all the earlier precautions against it dropped, and with its constant triple question: Who next of the sick? Who next of the well? Who next on either of the decks below?
Two or three times Hugh came, sat awhile, spoke rarely, and went out.
What a spontaneous new deference every one accorded him and with what a simple air of habitude he received it, though it seemed to mark him for bereavement as well as for command! Why did he come? Why did he go?
wondered Ramsey. Not that she would hinder him, coming or going. She could not guess that one chief object was care of her. She could only recall how lately they two had stood behind the footlights and sung their nonsense rhymes, partners in, and justified by, one brave, merciful purpose. Ought he to let care, danger, and grief, as soon as they had become acutely hers and his, drive him and her apart and strike him dumb to her, as dumb as a big ship dropping her on a desert sh.o.r.e and sailing away? Various subtleties of manner in others on the bench convinced her that they were thinking of him and her and thinking these same questions. What right had he to bring that upon her? Once, as he went out, somebody unwittingly stung her keenly by remarking, to no one in particular, that it was hard to see what should keep him so busy.
"D"you know," retorted Ned, "what running a boat is?"
"Why, yes, it"s making things spin so smooth you can"t see "em spin, ain"t it?"
"Right. Ever fly a kite? Not with yo" eyes shet, hey? Well, a boat"s a hundred kites. Ain"t she, Watsy?"
"Two hundred," said Watson, at the wheel.
"But Mr. Hugh ain"t actually running this boat, is he?"
"I ain"t said he wuz," replied Ned, and----
"He ain"t a-runnin" no other," said Watson.
For an instant Ramsey was all pride for him they exalted; but in the next instant a wave of resentment went through her as if their vaunting were his; as if her pride were his own confessed, colossal vanity; as if the price of his uplift were her belittlement. Never mind, he should pay! Absurd, absurd; but she was harrowingly tired, lonely, idle, grief-burdened, and desolate, and absurdity itself was relief. He should pay, let his paying cost her double. Somehow, in some feminine, minute, pinhole way, she would deflate him, wing him, bring him down, before he should soar another round. With old Joy at her feet, in the dusk of her corner beyond Mrs. So-and-so, the parson"s wife; she allowed herself a poor, bitter-sweet smile.
Each time when Hugh had come back to the bench, room had been hurriedly made for him next the parson"s wife--"stabboard side"--who, speaking for all, promptly began to interrogate him, her first question always being as to his father"s condition, which did not improve. Making room on the bench made room in the conversation--decoying pauses hopefully designed to lure him into saying something, anything, to Ramsey, or her to him; but always the kind trap had gone unsprung. Two or three times, obviously, Mrs. So-and-so"s inquiries had first been Ramsey"s to her; as when one of them elicited the fact that the next turn would be Horseshoe Cut-off and Kangaroo Point; and once, at length, after twice failing to believe the ear she bent to Ramsey"s murmur, she said audibly:
"Ask him, dear; ask him yourself."
Every one waited and presently Hugh remarked:
"I"ll answer if I can."
"I"d rather," faltered Ramsey, "ask John the Baptist."
The unlucky mention took no evident effect on any one. If that was the snub she would have to try again.
"I can ask him for you," said Hugh. "He"s up, expecting to leave us at Helena."
"No, thank you," she sighed, "you"re too awfully busy. It won"t make any real difference if I never find out."
"Won"t sink the boat to ask," drawled Watson; but she remained silent till Hugh inquired:
"Are you sure I can"t tell you?"
"Oh, you can!" came from Ramsey"s dark corner. "But--with the whole boat in your care--we oughtn"t to ask you things we don"t have to know."
"Lard! belch it out," urged the innocent Ned, taking her in earnest; but again she was silent.
"Well?" said Hugh.
"Oh, well, are there many--? Oh, it ain"t important."
"Why, missy," muttered old Joy, "you"s dess natchiully bleeds to ax it now."
"Yes, dear," said the parson"s wife, "let"s have it."
"Well--are there many--? Oh, it"s not--are there--are there many kangaroos on Kangaroo Point?"
At any outer edge of civilization a joke may be as hard and practical as ship"s bread, yet pa.s.s. Amid the general mirth and while Hugh pulled a bell cord which made no jingle down in the engine-room and had never before been observed by Ramsey, his reply was prompt and brief but too gently solemn for her ear; and when she got Mrs. So-and-so to repeat it to her it was merely to the effect that, though kangaroos were few on Kangaroo Point, she ought to see the wealth of horseshoes in Horseshoe Cut-off.
Oh, kind answer! that excused her frivolity by sharing it. Kind beyond her utmost merit. She did not say so, but she thought it, sitting dumb, in sudden tears, and burning with shame for her blindness to the hour"s fearful realities. While Ned stepped to Watson"s side to speak critically of the _Antelope_, now shining on their starboard bow, Hugh, near the door, dropped a quiet request to the two or three other occupants of the bench and they followed him out.
"Why do they go?" she asked, fancying them as much appalled at her as she herself was, and when the sweet lady could not enlighten her the pilots offered a guess that two had gone to relieve Mrs. Gilmore and her maid and that Hugh would presently join the first clerk by the bell.
"There he is now," said Ned, actually expecting her to rise and look down. But she sat still and watched the _Antelope_, wishing her far better speed in view of the letters she carried. So came thoughts of the long telegraphic despatch to her father which Hugh must by this time have written for her mother, as agreed between them, and which was to be sent, in the morning, from Memphis.
The door opened and Mrs. Gilmore and "Harriet" came in.
"Well," softly inquired the actor"s wife, "how do we come on?" and Ramsey answered as softly, yet taking pains that Ned and Watson should overhear:
"I"ve disgraced myself."
"Mmm!" mumbled old Joy in corroboration.
"What have you done now?"
"Nothing. I don"t _do_ anything. Only said something, something so silly I can"t even apologize."
"To whom?"
"The baby elephant," said Ramsey and laughed a note or two. The door opened again and Hugh"s bell call was explained by the entrance of the texas tender and another white-jacket, each bearing a large tray of cups and plates, hot coffee, and hot toasted rolls and b.u.t.ter. She hadn"t dreamed she was so hungry.
Watson stared back from the wheel with grim pretence of surprise. "Who sent that here?"
"Mr. Hugh Co"teney sawnt it, suh," said the tender, arranging the cups on the bench. "Ya.s.s"m," he repeated to the grateful ladies, "Mr. Hugh, ya.s.s"m."
"Oh! Mr. Hugh," replied Watson. "He must "a" gave you the order before he come up here this last time."