"Fresh as paint," she returned. "But I"m just dying to get on the water.
And Bert has gone off somewhere by himself. I guess you"ll help me, Big Bear. Won"t you?"
Merefleet glanced from the sea to the sun.
"There"s a change coming," he said. "I will go with you with pleasure.
But I think it would be advisable to wait till the afternoon as usual. We shall probably know by then what sort of weather to expect."
Mab pouted a little.
"We shan"t go at all if we wait," she declared. "Why can"t we go while the fine weather lasts? I believe you want to back out of it. It"s real lazy of you, Big Bear. You shan"t read, anyhow."
She took his paper from his unresisting hands, dug a hole in the shingle with vicious energy, and covered it over.
"Now what?" she said, looking up at him with an impudent smile.
"Now," said Merefleet gravely, "I will take you for a row."
"Will you? Big Bear, you"re a brick. I"ll put you into my will. No, I won"t, because I haven"t got anything to leave. And you wouldn"t want it if I had. Say, Big Bear! Haven"t you got any friends?"
Merefleet looked surprised at the abrupt question.
"I have one friend in England besides yourself, Miss Ward," he replied.
"His name is Clinton. But he is married and done for."
"My! What a pity!" she exclaimed. "Isn"t he happy?"
"Oh, yes, I think so. Still, you know, most fellows have to sacrifice something when they marry. He was a war-correspondent. But he has spoilt himself for that."
"I see." Mab was prodding the shingle with the end of her sunshade, her face very thoughtful. Suddenly she looked up. "Never get married, Big Bear!" she said vehemently. "It"s the most miserable state in Christendom."
"Anyone would think you spoke from experience," said Merefleet, smiling a little.
But Mab did not smile.
"I know a lot, Big Bear," she said, with a sharp sigh.
Merefleet was silent. His thoughts had gone back to the previous night.
He was surprised when she suddenly alluded to the episode.
"There"s that man Ralph Warrender," she said. "I guess the woman that"s married him thinks he"s A1 and gilt-edged now, poor soul. But he"s just a miserable patchwork mummy really, and there isn"t any white in him--no, not a speck."
She spoke with such intense, even violent bitterness that Merefleet was utterly astonished. He stood gravely contemplating her flushed, upturned face.
"What has he done to make you say that, I wonder?" he said.
"Nothing to me," she answered quickly. "Nothing at all to me. But I used to know his first wife. She was a sort of friend of mine. They used to call her the loveliest woman in U.S., Mr. Merefleet. And she belonged to that fiend."
They began to walk towards the boats through the shifting shingle.
Merefleet had nothing to say. There was something in her pa.s.sionate speech that disturbed him vaguely. She spoke as one whose most sacred personal interests had once been at stake.
"Lucky for her she"s dead, Big Bear," she said presently, with a side-glance at him. "I"ve never regretted any of my friends less than Mrs. Ralph Warrender. Oh, she was real miserable. I"ve seen her with diamonds piled high in her hair and her face all shining with smiles. And I"ve known all the time that her heart was broken. And when I heard that she was dead, do you know, I was glad--yes, thankful. And I guess Warrender wasn"t sorry. For she hated him."
"I never cared for Warrender," said Merefleet. "But I always took him for a gentleman."
She laughed at his words with a gaiety that jarred upon him. "Do you know, Big Bear," she said, "I think they must have forgotten to teach you your ABC when you went to school? You"re such an innocent."
Merefleet tramped by her side in silence. There was something in him that shrank when she spoke in this vein.
But quite suddenly her tone changed. She spoke very gently. "Still, it"s better to know too little than too much," she said. "And oh, Big Bear, I know such a lot."
Merefleet looked at her sharply and surprised an expression on her face which he did not easily forget.
He knew in that moment that this woman had suffered, and his heart gave a wild, tumultuous throb. From that moment he also knew that she had taken his heart by storm.
CHAPTER XI
Half-an-hour later they were out on the open sea beyond the harbour in a c.o.c.klesh.e.l.l even frailer than Quiller"s little craft which they had not been able to secure.
The sea was very quiet, only broken by an occasional long swell that drove them southward like driftwood. Merefleet, who had been persuaded to quit the harbour against his better judgment, was not greatly disturbed by this fact. He did not antic.i.p.ate any difficulty in returning. A little extra labour was the worst he expected, for he knew that a southward course would bring him into no awkward currents. Away to the eastward he was aware of treacherous streams and shoals. But he had no intention of going in that direction, and Mab, who steered, knew the water well.
There was no sun, a circ.u.mstance which Mab deplored, but for which Merefleet was profoundly grateful.
"You"re not nearly so lazy as you used to be," she said to him approvingly, as he rested his oars after a long pull.
"No," said Merefleet. "I am beginning to see the error of my ways."
"I"m real glad to hear you say so," she said heartily. "And I want to tell you, Big Bear--that as I"m never going to New York again, I"ve decided to be an Englishwoman. And you"ve got to help me."
Merefleet looked at her with undisguised appreciation, but he shook his head at her words. She was marvellous; she was inimitable; she was unique. She would never, never be English. His gesture said as much.
But she was not discouraged.
"I guess I"ll try, anyhow," she said with brisk determination. "You don"t like American women, Mr. Merefleet."
"Depends," said Merefleet.
And she laughed gaily.
They were drifting in long sweeps towards the south. Imperceptibly also the distance was widening between the boat and the sh.o.r.e. The wind was veering to the west.
"My! Look at that oar!" Mab suddenly exclaimed.
Merefleet started at the note of dismay in her tone. He had shipped his oars. They were the only ones that had been provided. He glanced hastily at the oar Mab indicated. It had been broken and roughly spliced together. The wood that had been used for the splicing was rotten, and the friction in the rowlocks had almost worn it through. Merefleet examined it in silence.
The girl"s voice, high, with a quiver in it that might have stood for either laughter or consternation, broke in on him.