"Smoking a mild cigar," added another. "And eating oysters and mushrooms," chimed in a third.
Thorogood walked towards the group of laughing, chaffing boys and men.
"She won"t be long, now," he said. "You"ll all catch the train; I can promise you that."
He smiled wanly.
"James," said the India-rubber Man, "don"t look so miserable! I know how sorry you are for us all. But we"re going through with it, old man, like Britons."
"That"s right," agreed the Paymaster. "We shall think of you, James, and the Commander, and the P.M.O., and all our happy messmates who are staying onboard for the refit. It makes going on leave easier to bear when we think of your smiling faces."
Thorogood turned away. "You"re funny little fellows, aren"t you?" he said dourly.
The Young Doctor caught the ball and sent it rolling on.
"We shall think of the pneumatic riveter at work over your heads; we shall think of the blithe chatter of the dockyard maties all over the ship, and the smell of the stuff they stick the corticene down with ...
and we shall face the sad days ahead of us with renewed courage, James, old man."
"Thank you all," replied Thorogood gravely. "Thank you for your beautiful words. Give my love to Mouldy if any of you see him"--the speaker glanced over the side. "And now I have much pleasure in informing you that the boat is alongside, and the sooner you all get into it the sooner to sleep, as the song says."
The Midshipmen were already scrambling down the ladder, carrying their bags and coats, and the Wardroom Officers followed. Farewells and parting shafts of humour floated up from the sternsheets; Thorogood stood at the top of the gangway and waved adieu with his telescope as the boat shoved off and circled round the stern towards the landing-place. For a moment he stood looking after the smiling faces and waving caps and then turned inboard with a sigh.
"Liberty men present, sir!" The Master-at-Arms and Sergeant-Major made their reports and Thorogood moved forward, pa.s.sing briskly down the lanes of motionless figures and shiny, cheerful countenances.
"Carry on," he said, and acknowledged the salute of the Chief of Police and the Sergeant of Marines.
The men filed over the side and took their places in the boats waiting alongside, and as they sheered off from the ship in tow of the launch and followed in the wake of the distant picket-boat, the closely packed men suddenly broke into a tempest of cheering.
The Captain was walking up and down the quarterdeck talking to the Commander. He smiled as the tumult of sound floated across the water.
"I wonder they managed to bottle it up as long as they have," he said.
"Bless "em! They"ve earned their drop of leave if ever men did." They took a few turns in silence. "I hope to get away to-night," continued the Captain, "if they put us in dock this afternoon. When are you going for your leave, Hornby?"
The Commander ran his eye over the superstructure and rigging of the foremast. "Oh, I don"t know, sir," he said. "I hadn"t thought about it much.... I think I"ll get that new purchase for the fore-derrick rove to-morrow...."
The colour had gone out of the sunset, and in the pale green sky at the head of the valley a single star appeared.
With the approach of dusk the noises of the river multiplied; a score of liquid voices seemed to blend into the sleepy murmur of sounds that babbled drowsily among the rocks and boulders, and was swallowed beneath the overhanging branches of the trees.
The India-rubber Man moved quietly down stream, scarcely distinguishable from the gathering shadows by the riverside; he carried a light fly-rod, and once or twice he stopped, puffing the briar pipe between his teeth, to stare intently at the olive-hued water eddying past.
"Coo-ee!"
A faint call floated up the valley, clear and musical above the voices of the stream. The India-rubber Man raised his head abruptly and a little smile flitted across his face. Then he raised his hand to his mouth and sent the answer ringing down-stream:
"Coo-oo-ee-e!"
He stood motionless in an att.i.tude of listening and the hail was repeated.
"Sunset and evening star,"
he quoted in an undertone,
"And one clear call for me...."
There had been a period in his life some years earlier when the India-rubber Man discovered poetry. For months he read greedily and indiscriminately, and then, abruptly as it came, the fit pa.s.sed; but tags of favourite lines remained in his memory, and the rhythm of running water invariably set them drumming in his ears.
He turned his back on the whispering river and, scrambling up the bank, made his way down-stream through the myriad scents and signs of another summer evening returning to its peace. The path wound through a plantation of young firs which grew fewer as he advanced, and presently gave glimpses beyond the tree-trunks of a wide stretch of open turf.
The river, meeting a high wall of rock, swung round noiselessly almost at right angles to its former course; in the centre of the ground thus enclosed stood a weather-beaten tent, and close by lay a small two-wheeled cart with its shafts in the air.
The India-rubber Man paused for a moment on the fringe of the plantation and stood taking in the quiet scene. The shadowy outline of a grazing donkey moved slowly across the turf which narrowed to a single spit of sand, and here, standing upright with her hands at her sides, was the motionless figure of a girl, staring up the river.
Something in her att.i.tude stirred a poignant little memory in the mind of the India-rubber Man. In spite of his nearness he still remained invisible to her against the background of the darkling wood.
"Betty!" he called.
For an instant she stared and then came towards him, moving swiftly with her lithe, ineffable grace.
"Oh," she cried, "there you are!" She slid her fingers into his disengaged hand and fell into step beside him. "Bunje," she said with a little laugh that was half a sigh, "I"m like an old hen with one chick--I can hardly bear you out of my sight! Have you had good hunting? What was the evening rise like?"
"It was good," replied the India-rubber Man. "But it was better still to hear you call."
They came to a tall bush where the blossoms of a wild rose glimmered in the dusk like moths. The India-rubber Man stabbed the b.u.t.t of his rod in the turf, took off his cast-entwined deerstalker and hung it on a bramble; then he slipped the strap of his creel over his head and emptied the contents on to the gra.s.s.
"Five," he said, counting. They knelt beside the golden trout and laid them in a row. "I could have taken more," he added, "but that"s all we want for breakfast. Besides, it was too nice an evening to go on killing things.... Sort of peaceful. That"s a nice one, though, that pounder. He fancied a coachman..." The India-rubber Man straightened up and sniffed the evening air aromatic with the scent of burning wood.
"And I"ve got a sort of feeling I could fancy something, Bet----"
Betty rose too. "It"s ready," she said. "I"ve put the table in the hollow behind the bush. I"ve got a surprise for you--"will you walk into my parlour? said the spider to the fly.""
She led the way into the hollow. A brazier of burning logs stood on the side nearest the river, with a saucepan simmering upon it. Close under the wild-rose bush was a folding table covered with a blue-and-white cloth laid in readiness for a meal, with a camp stool on either side. From an overhanging branch dangled a paper j.a.panese lantern, glowing in the blue dusk like a jewel.
"You"re a witch, Betty," said the India-rubber Man. "Where did you get the lantern?"
"At that village we pa.s.sed through yesterday. It was a surprise for you!" She made a little obeisance on the threshold of their star-lit dining-room. "Will it please my lord to be seated?" she asked prettily, and bending down busied herself amid the ashes underneath the brazier. "There"s grilled trout and stewed bunny-rabbit," she added, speaking over her shoulder.
"Good enough," said her lord. "Sit down, Bet, I"m going to do the waiting." Betty laughed. "I don"t mind this sort of waiting," she replied. "It"s the other kind that grew so wearisome."
They made their meal while a bat, attracted by the white cloth, flickered overhead, and the shadows closed in round them, deepening into night. When the last morsel of food had vanished the India-rubber Man turned sideways on his stool to light a pipe, and by the light of the match they stared at one another with a sudden fresh realisation of their present happiness and the fullness thereof.
"Isn"t it good?" said Betty. "Isn"t it worth almost anything to have this peace?" She made a little gesture, embracing the scented quiet.
"And just us two ... alone."
The India-rubber Man tossed the match on to the turf where it burned steadily in a little circle of warm light.
"Yes," he said. "Just us two ... Hark, Betty!" He held up his finger.
For a moment they listened to the infinitesimal noises of the night, straining their ears in the stillness. The river wound past them with a faint, sibilant sound like a child chuckling in its sleep; an owl hooted somewhere in the far-off sanctuary of the trees. Betty drew her breath with a little sigh that was no louder than the rustle of the bat"s wings overhead. The match burning on the gra.s.s beside them flared suddenly and went out.