The schooner Falcon was ready for sea. The last bale of general cargohad just been shipped, and a few hairy, unkempt seamen were busy puttingon the hatches under the able profanity of the mate.
"All clear?" inquired the master, a short, ruddy-faced man of aboutthirty-five. "Cast off there!"
"Ain't you going to wait for the passengers, then?" inquired the mate.
"No, no," replied the skipper, whose features were working withexcitement. "They won't come now, I'm sure they won't. We'll lose thetide if we don't look sharp."
He turned aside to give an order just as a buxom young woman,accompanied by a loutish boy, a band-box, and several other bundles,came hurrying on to the jetty.
"Well, here we are, Cap'n Evans," said the girl, springing lightly on tothe deck. "I thought we should never get here; the cabman didn't seem toknow the way; but I knew you wouldn't go without us."
"Here you are," said the skipper, with attempted cheerfulness, as hegave the girl his right hand, while his left strayed vaguely in thedirection of the boy's ear, which was coldly withheld from him. "Go downbelow, and the mate'll show you your cabin. Bill, this is Miss Cooper, alady friend o' mine, and her brother."
The mate, acknowledging the introduction, led the way to the cabin,where they remained so long that by the time they came on deck again theschooner was off Limehouse, slipping along well under a light wind.
"How do you like the state-room?" inquired the skipper, who was at thewheel.
"Pretty fair," replied Miss Cooper. "It's a big name for it though,ain't it? Oh, what a large ship!"
She ran to the side to gaze at a big liner, and as far as Gravesendbesieged the skipper and mate with questions concerning the variouscraft. At the mate's suggestion they had tea on deck, at which mealWilliam Henry Cooper became a source of much discomfort to his host byhis remarkable discoveries anent the fauna of lettuce. Despite hisefforts, however, and the cloud under which Evans seemed to belabouring, the meal was voted a big success; and after it was over theysat laughing and chatting until the air got chilly, and the banks of theriver were lost in the gathering darkness. At ten o'clock they retiredfor the night, leaving Evans and the mate on deck.
"Nice gal, that," said the mate, looking at the skipper, who was leaningmoodily on the wheel.
"Ay, ay," replied he. "Bill," he continued, turning suddenly towards themate. "I'm in a deuce of a mess. You've got a good square head on yourshoulders. Now, what on earth am I to do? Of course you can see how theland lays?"
"Of course," said the mate, who was not going to lose his reputation byany display of ignorance. "Anyone could see it," he added.
"The question is what's to be done?" said the skipper.
"That's the question," said the mate guardedly.
"I feel that worried," said Evans, "that I've actually thought ofgetting into collision, or running the ship ashore. Fancy them two womenmeeting at Llandalock."
Such a sudden light broke in upon the square head of the mate, that henearly whistled with the brightness of it.
"But you ain't engaged to this one?" he cried.
"We're to be married in August," said the skipper desperately. "That'smy ring on her finger."
"But you're going to marry Mary Jones in September," expostulated themate. "You can't marry both of 'em."
"That's what I say," replied Evans; "that's what I keep telling myself,but it don't seem to bring much comfort. I'm too soft-'earted wherewimmen is concerned, Bill, an' that's the truth of it. D'reckly I getalongside of a nice gal my arm goes creeping round her before I knowwhat it's doing."
"What on earth made you bring the girl on the ship?" inquired the mate."The other one's sure to be on the quay to meet you as usual."
"I couldn't help it," groaned the skipper; "she would come; she can bevery determined when she likes. She's awful gone on me, Bill."
"So's the other one apparently," said the mate.
"I can't think what it is the gals see in me," said the othermournfully. "Can you?"
"No, I'm blamed if I can," replied the mate frankly.
"I don't take no credit for it, Bill," said the skipper, "not a bit. Myfather was like it before me. The worry's killing me."
"Well, which are you going to have?" inquired the mate. "Which do youlike the best?"
"I don't know, an' that's a fact," said the skipper. "They 've both gotmoney coming to 'em; when I'm in Wales I like Mary Jones best, and whenI'm in London it's Janey Cooper. It's dreadful to be like that, Bill."
"It is," said the mate drily. "I wouldn't be in your shoes when thosetwo gals meet for a fortune. Then you'll have old Jones and her brothersto tackle, too. Seems to me things'll be a bit lively."
"I hev thought of being took sick, and staying in my bunk, Bill,"suggested Evans anxiously.
"An' having the two of 'em to nurse you," retorted Bill. "Nice quiettime for an invalid."
Evans made a gesture of despair.
"How would it be," said the mate, after a long pause, and speaking veryslowly; "how would it be if I took this one off your hands."
"You couldn't do it, Bill," said the skipper decidedly. "Not while sheknew I was above ground." "Well, I can try," returned the mate shortly."I've took rather a fancy to the girl. Is it a bargain?"
"It is," said the skipper, shaking hands upon it. "If you git me out ofthis hole, Bill, I'll remember it the longest day I live."
With these words he went below, and, after cautiously undoing W. H.Cooper, who had slept himself into a knot that a professionalcontortionist would have envied, tumbled in beside him and went tosleep.
His heart almost failed him when he encountered the radiant Jane atbreakfast in the morning, but he concealed his feelings by a strongeffort; and after the meal was finished, and the passengers had gone ondeck, he laid hold of the mate, who was following, and drew him into thecabin.
"You haven't washed yourself this morning," he said, eyeing him closely."How do you s'pose you are going to make an impression if you don't looksmart?"
"Well, I look tidier than you do," growled the mate.
"Of course you do," said the wily Evans. "I'm going to give you all thechances I can. Now you go and shave yourself, and here--take it."
He passed the surprised mate a brilliant red silk tie, embellished withgreen spots.
"No, no," said the mate deprecatingly.
"Take it," repeated Evans; "if anything'll fetch her it'll be that tie;and here's a couple of collars for you; they're a new shape, quite therage down Poplar way just now."
"It's robbing you," said the mate, "and it's no good either. I ain't gota decent suit of clothes to my back."
Evans looked up, and their eyes met; then, with a catch in his breath,he turned away, and after some hesitation went to his locker, andbringing out a new suit, bought for the edification of Miss Jones,handed it silently to the mate.
"I can't take all these things without giving you something for 'em,"said the mate. "Here, wait a bit."
He dived into his cabin, and, after a hasty search, brought out somegarments which he placed on the table before his commander.
"I wouldn't wear 'em, no, not to drown myself in," declared Evans aftera brief glance; "they ain't even decent."
"So much the better," said the mate; "it'll be more of a contrast withme."
After a slight contest the skipper gave way, and the mate, after anelaborate toilette, went on deck and began to make himself agreeable,while his chief skulked below trying to muster up courage to put in anappearance.
"Where's the captain?" inquired Miss Cooper, after his absence had beenso prolonged as to become noticeable.
"He's below, dressin', I b'leeve," replied the mate simply.
Miss Cooper, glancing at his attire, smiled softly to herself, andprepared for something startling, and she got it; for a more forlorn,sulky-looking object than the skipper, when he did appear, had neverbeen seen on the deck of the Falcon, and his London betrothed glanced athim hot with shame and indignation.
r /> "Whatever have you got those things on for?" she whispered.
"Work, my dear--work," replied the skipper.
"Well, mind you don't lose any of the pieces," said the dear suavely;"you mightn't be able to match that cloth."
"I'll look after that," said the skipper, reddening. "You must excuse metalkin' to you now. I'm busy."
Miss Cooper looked at him indignantly, and, biting her lip, turned away,and started a desperate flirtation with the mate, to punish him. Evanswatched them with mingled feelings as he busied himself with varioussmall jobs on the deck, his wrath being raised to boiling point by thebehaviour of the cook, who, being a poor hand at disguising hisfeelings, came out of the galley several times to look at him.
From this incident a coolness sprang up between the skipper and thegirl, which increased hourly. At times the skipper weakened, but thewatchful mate was always on hand to prevent mischief. Owing to hisfostering care Evans was generally busy, and always gruff; and MissCooper, who was used to the most assiduous attentions from him, knew notwhether to be most bewildered or most indignant. Four times in one daydid he remark in her hearing that a sailor's ship was his sweetheart,while his treatment of his small prospective brother in-law, when heexpostulated with him on the state of his wardrobe, filled that hithertopampered youth with amazement. At last, on the fourth night out, as thelittle schooner was passing the coast of Cornwall, the mate came up tohim as he was steering, and patted him heavily on the back.
"It's all right, cap'n," said he. "You've lost the prettiest little girlin England."
"What?" said the skipper, in incredulous tones.
"Fact," replied the other. "Here's your ring back. I wouldn't let herwear it any longer."
"However did you do it?" inquired Evans, taking the ring in a dazedfashion.
"Oh, easy as possible," said the mate. "She liked me best, that's all."
"But what did you say to her?" persisted Evans.
The other reflected.
"I can't call to mind exactly," he said at length. "But, you may relyupon it, I said everything I could against you. But she never did caremuch for you. She told me so herself."
"I wish you joy of your bargain," said Evans solemnly, after a longpause.
"What do you mean?" demanded the mate sharply.
"A girl like that," said the skipper, with a lump in his throat, "whocan carry on with two men at once ain't worth having. She's not mymoney, that's all."
The mate looked at him in honest bewilderment.
"Mark my words," continued the skipper loftily, "you'll live to regretit. A girl like that's got no ballast. She'll always be running afterfresh neckties."
"You put it down to the necktie, do you?" sneered the mate wrathfully.
"That and the clothes, cert'nly," replied the skipper.
"Well, you're wrong," said the mate. "A lot you know about girls. Itwasn't your old clothes, and it wasn't all your bad behaviour to hersince she's been aboard. You may as well know first as last. Shewouldn't have nothing to do with me at first, so I told her all aboutMary Jones."
"You told her THAT?" cried the skipper fiercely.
"I did," replied the other. "She was pretty wild at first; but then thecomic side of it struck her--you wearing them old clothes, and goingabout as you did. She used to watch you until she couldn't stand it anylonger, and then go down in the cabin and laugh. Wonderful spirits thatgirl's got. Hush! Here she is!"
As he spoke the girl came on deck, and, seeing the two men talkingtogether, remained at a short distance from them.
"It's all right, Jane," said the mate; "I've told him."
"Oh!" said Miss Cooper, with a little gasp.
"I can't bear deceit," said the mate; "and now it's off his mind, he'sso happy he can't bear himself."
The latter part of this assertion seemed to be more warranted by factsthan the former, but Evans made a choking noise, which he intended as asign of unbearable joy, and, relinquishing the wheel to the mate, walkedforward. The clear sky was thick with stars, and a mind at ease mighthave found enjoyment in the quiet beauty of the night, but the skipperwas too interested in the behaviour of the young couple at the wheel togive it a thought. Immersed in each other, they forgot him entirely, andexchanged little playful slaps and pushes, which incensed him beyonddescription. Several times he was on the point of exercising hisposition as commander and ordering the mate below, but in thecircumstances interference was impossible, and, with a low-voicedgood-night, he went below. Here his gaze fell on William Henry, who wasslumbering peacefully, and, with a hazy idea of the eternal fitness ofthings, he raised the youth in his arms, and, despite his sleepyprotests, deposited him in the mate's bunk. Then, with head and heartboth aching, he retired for the night.
There was a little embarrassment next day, but it soon passed off, andthe three adult inmates of the cabin got on quite easy terms with eachother. The most worried person aft was the boy, who had not been takeninto their confidence, and whose face, when his sister sat with themate's arm around her waist, presented to the skipper a perfect study inemotions.
"I feel quite curious to see this Miss Jones," said Miss Cooper amiably,as they sat at dinner.
"She'll be on the quay, waving her handkerchief to him," said the mate."We'll be in to-morrow afternoon, and then you'll see her."
As it happened, the mate was a few hours out in his reckoning, for bythe time the Falcon's bows were laid for the small harbour it was quitedark, and the little schooner glided in, guided by the two lights whichmarked the entrance. The quay, seen in the light of a few scatteredlamps, looked dreary enough, and, except for two or three indistinctfigures, appeared to be deserted. Beyond, the broken lights of the townstood out more clearly as the schooner crept slowly over the dark watertowards her berth.
"Fine night, cap'n," said the watchman, as the schooner came gentlyalongside the quay.
The skipper grunted assent. He was peering anxiously at the quay.
"It's too late," said the mate. "You couldn't expect her this timeo'night. It's ten o'clock."
"I'll go over in the morning," said Evans, who, now that things had beenadjusted, was secretly disappointed that Miss Cooper had not witnessedthe meeting. "If you're not going ashore, we might have a hand o' cardsas soon's we're made fast."
The mate assenting, they went below, and were soon deep in the mysteriesof three-hand cribbage. Evans, who was a good player, surpassed himself,and had just won the first game, the others being nowhere, when a headwas thrust down the companion-way, and a voice like a strained foghorncalled the captain by name.
"Ay, ay!" yelled Evans, laying down his hand.
"I'll come down, cap'n," said the voice, and the mate just had time towhisper "Old Jones" to Miss Cooper, when a man of mighty bulk filled upthe doorway of the little cabin, and extended a huge paw to Evans andthe mate. He then looked at the lady, and, breathing hard, waited.
"Young lady o' the mate's," said Evans breathlessly,--"Miss Cooper. Sitdown, cap'n. Get the gin out, Bill."
"Not for me," said Captain Jones firmly, but with an obvious effort.
The surprise of Evans and the mate admitted of no concealment; but itpassed unnoticed by their visitor, who, fidgeting in his seat, appearedto be labouring with some mysterious problem. After a long pause, duringwhich all watched him anxiously, he reached over the table and shookhands with Evans again.
"Put it there, cap'n," said Evans, much affected by this token ofesteem.
The old man rose and stood looking at him, with his hand on hisshoulder; he then shook hands for the third time, and patted himencouragingly on the back.
"Is anything the matter?" demanded the skipper of the Falcon as he roseto his feet, alarmed by these manifestations of feeling. "Is Mary--isshe ill?"
"Worse than that," said the other--"worse'n that, my poor boy; she'smarried a lobster!"
The effect of this communication upon Evans was tremendous; but it maybe doubted whether he was more surprised than Miss Cooper, who, ut
terlyunversed in military terms, strove in vain to realize the possibility ofsuch a mesalliance, as she gazed wildly at the speaker and squeaked withastonishment.
"When was it?" asked Evans at last, in a dull voice.
"Thursday fortnight, at ha' past eleven," said the old man. "He's asergeant in the line. I would have written to you, but I thought it wasbest to come and break it to you gently. Cheer up, my boy; there's morethan one Mary Jones in the world."
With this undeniable fact, Captain Jones waved a farewell to the partyand went off, leaving them to digest his news. For some time they satstill, the mate and Miss Cooper exchanging whispers, until at length,the stillness becoming oppressive, they withdrew to their respectiveberths, leaving the skipper sitting at the table, gazing hard at a knotin the opposite locker.
For long after their departure he sat thus, amid a deep silence, brokenonly by an occasional giggle from the stateroom, or an idioticsniggering from the direction of the mate's bunk, until, recalled tomundane affairs by the lamp burning itself out, he went, in befittinggloom, to bed.
THE RIVAL BEAUTIES