Captain Polson sat in his comfortable parlour smiling benignly upon hisdaughter and sister. His ship, after an absence of eighteen months, wasonce more berthed in the small harbour of Barborough, and the captainwas sitting in that state of good-natured affability which invariablycharacterised his first appearance after a long absence.
"No news this end, I suppose," he inquired, after a lengthy recital ofmost extraordinarily uninteresting adventures.
"Not much," said his sister Jane, looking nervously at her niece. "YoungMetcalfe has gone into partnership with his father."
"I don't want to hear about those sharks," said the captain, waxing red."Tell me about honest men."
"Joe Lewis has had a month's imprisonment for stealing fowls," said MissPolson meekly. "Mrs. Purton has had twins--dear little fellows they are,fat as butter!--she has named one of them Polson, after you. The greedyone."
"Any deaths?" inquired the captain snappishly, as he eyed the innocentlady suspiciously.
"Poor old Jasper Wheeler has gone," said his sister; "he was veryresigned. He borrowed enough money to get a big doctor from London, andwhen he heard that there was no hope for him he said he was just longingto go, and he was sorry he couldn't take all his dear ones with him.Mary Hewson is married to Jack Draper, and young Metcalfe's banns go upfor the third time next Sunday."
"I hope he gets a Tartar," said the vindictive captain. "Who's the girl?Some silly little fool, I know. She ought to be warned!"
"I don't believe in interfering in marriages," said his daughterChrissie, shaking her head sagely.
"Oh!" said the captain, staring, "YOU don't! Now you've put your hair upand taken to wearing long frocks, I suppose you're beginning to think ofit."
"Yes; auntie wants to tell you something!" said his daughter, rising andcrossing the room.
"No, I don't!" said Miss Polson hastily.
"You'd better do it," said Chrissie, giving her a little push, "there'sa dear; I'll go upstairs and lock myself in my room."
The face of the captain, whilst this conversation was passing, was astudy in suppressed emotions. He was a firm advocate for importing themanners of the quarter-deck into private life, the only drawback beingthat he had to leave behind him the language usual in that locality. Tothis omission he usually ascribed his failures.
"Sit down, Chrissie," he commanded; "sit down, Jane. Now, miss, what'sall this about?"
"I don't like to tell you," said Chrissie, folding her hands in her lap."I know you'll be cross. You're so unreasonable."
The captain stared--frightfully.
"I'm going to be married," said Chrissie suddenly,--"there! To JackMetcalfe--there! So you'll have to learn to love him. He's going to tryand love you for my sake." To his sister's dismay the captain got up,and brandishing his fists walked violently to and fro. By these simplebut unusual means decorum was preserved.
"If you were only a boy," said the captain, when he had regained hisseat, "I should know what to do with you."
"If I were a boy," said Chrissie, who, having braced herself up for thefray, meant to go through with it, "I shouldn't want to marry Jack.Don't be silly, father!"
"Jane," said the captain, in a voice which made the lady addressed startin her chair, "what do you mean by it?"
"It isn't my fault," said Miss Polson feebly. "I told her how it wouldbe. And it was so gradual; he admired my geraniums at first, and, ofcourse, I was deceived. There are so many people admire my geraniums;whether it is because the window has a south aspect"--
"Oh!" said the captain rudely, "that'll do, Jane. If he wasn't a lawyer,I'd go round and break his neck. Chrissie is only nineteen, and she'llcome for a year's cruise with me. Perhaps the sea air'll strengthen herhead. We'll see who's master in this family."
"I'm sure I don't want to be master," said his daughter, taking a weaponof fine cambric out of her pocket, and getting ready for action. "Ican't help liking people. Auntie likes him too, don't you, auntie?"
"Yes," said Miss Polson bravely.
"Very good," said the autocrat promptly, "I'll take you both for acruise."
"You're making me very un--unhappy," said Chrissie, burying her face inher handkerchief.
"You'll be more unhappy before I've done with you," said the captaingrimly. "And while I think of it, I'll step round and stop those banns."His daughter caught him by the arm as he was passing, and laid her faceon his sleeve. "You'll make me look so foolish," she wailed.
"That'll make it easier for you to come to sea with me," said herfather. "Don't cry all over my sleeve. I'm going to see a parson. Runupstairs and play with your dolls, and if you're a good girl, I'll bringyou in some sweets." He put on his hat, and closing the front door witha bang, went off to the new rector to knock two years off the age whichhis daughter kept for purposes of matrimony. The rector, grieved at suchduplicity in one so young, met him more than half way, and he came outfrom him smiling placidly, until his attention was attracted by a youngman on the other side of the road, who was regarding him with manifestawkwardness.
"Good evening, Captain Polson," he said, crossing the road.
"Oh," said the captain, stopping, "I wanted to speak to you. I supposeyou wanted to marry my daughter while I was out of the way, to savetrouble. Just the manly thing I should have expected of you. I'vestopped the banns, and I'm going to take her for a voyage with me.You'll have to look elsewhere, my lad."
"The ill feeling is all on your side, captain," said Metcalfe,reddening.
"Ill feeling!" snorted the captain. "You put me in the witness-box, andmade me a laughing-stock in the place with your silly attempts at jokes,lost me five hundred pounds, and then try and marry my daughter whileI'm at sea. Ill feeling be hanged!"
"That was business," said the other.
"It was," said the captain, "and this is business too. Mine. I'll lookafter it, I'll promise you. I think I know who'll look silly this time.I'd sooner see my girl in heaven than married to a rascal of a lawyer."
"You'd want good glasses," retorted Metcalfe, who was becoming ruffled.
"I don't want to bandy words with you," said the captain with dignity,after a long pause, devoted to thinking of something worth bandying."You think you're a clever fellow, but I know a cleverer. You're quitewelcome to marry my daughter--if you can."
He turned on his heel, and refusing to listen to any further remarks,went on his way rejoicing. Arrived home, he lit his pipe, and throwinghimself into an armchair, related his exploits. Chrissie had recourse toher handkerchief again, more for effect than use, but Miss Polson, whowas a tender soul, took hers out and wept unrestrainedly. At first thecaptain took it well enough. It was a tribute to his power, but whenthey took to sobbing one against the other, his temper rose, and hesternly commanded silence.
"I shall be like--this--every day at sea," sobbed Chrissie vindictively,"only worse; making us all ridiculous."
"Stop that noise directly!" vociferated the captain.
"We c-c-can't," sobbed Miss Polson.
"And we d-don't want to," said Chrissie. "It's all we can do, and we'regoing to do it. You'd better g-go out and stop something else. You can'tstop us."
The captain took the advice and went, and in the billiard-room of the"George" heard some news which set him thinking, and which brought himback somewhat earlier than he had at first intended. A small group athis gate broke up into its elements at his approach, and the captain,following his sister and daughter into the room, sat down and eyed themseverely.
"So you're going to run off to London to get married, are you, miss?" hesaid ferociously. "Well, we'll see. You don't go out of my sight untilwe sail, and if I catch that pettifogging lawyer round at my gate again,I'll break every bone in his body, mind that."
For the next three days the captain kept his daughter under observation,and never allowed her to stir abroad except in his company. The eveningof the third day, to his own great surprise, he spent at a Dorcas. Thecompany was not congenial, several of the ladies putting their wor
kaway, and glaring frigidly at the intruder; and though they could seeclearly that he was suffering greatly, made no attempt to put him at hisease. He was very thoughtful all the way home, and the next day took apartner into the concern, in the shape of his boatswain.
"You understand, Tucker," he concluded, as the hapless seaman stood in acringing attitude before Chrissie, "that you never let my daughter outof your sight. When she goes out you go with her."
"Yessir," said Tucker; "and suppose she tells me to go home, what am Ito do then?"
"You're a fool," said the captain sharply. "It doesn't matter what shesays or does; unless you are in the same room, you are never to be morethan three yards from her."
"Make it four, cap'n," said the boatswain, in a broken voice.
"Three," said the captain; "and mind, she's artful. All girls are, andshe'll try and give you the slip. I've had information given me as towhat's going on. Whatever happens, you are not to leave her."
"I wish you'd get somebody else, sir," said Tucker, very respectfully."There's a lot of chaps aboard that'd like the job."
"You're the only man I can trust," said the captain shortly. "When Igive you orders I know they'll be obeyed; it's your watch now."
He went out humming. Chrissie took up a book and sat down, utterlyignoring the woebegone figure which stood the regulation three yardsfrom her, twisting its cap in its hands.
"I hope, miss," said the boatswain, after standing patiently forthree-quarters of an hour, "as 'ow you won't think I sought arter this'ere little job."
"No," said Chrissie, without looking up.
"I'm just obeying orders," continued the boatswain. "I always git let infor these 'ere little jobs, somehow. The monkeys I've had to look arteraboard ship would frighten you. There never was a monkey on the Monarchbut what I was in charge of. That's what a man gets through beingtrustworthy."
"Just so," said Chrissie, putting down her book. "Well, I'm going intothe kitchen now; come along, nursie."
"'Ere, I say, miss!" remonstrated Tucker, flushing.
"I don't know how Susan will like you going in her kitchen," saidChrissie thoughtfully; "however, that's your business."
The unfortunate seaman followed his fair charge into the kitchen, and,leaning against the door-post, doubled up like a limp rag before theterrible glance of its mistress.
"Ho!" said Susan, who took the state of affairs as an insult to the sexin general; "and what might you be wanting?"
"Cap'n's orders," murmured Tucker feebly.
"I'm captain here," said Susan, confronting him with her bare armsakimbo.
"And credit it does you," said the boatswain, looking round admiringly.
"Is it your wish, Miss Chrissie, that this image comes and stalks intomy kitchen as if the place belongs to him?" demanded the irate Susan.
"I didn't mean to come in in that way," said the astonished Tucker. "Ican't help being big."
"I don't want him here," said her mistress; "what do you think I wanthim for?"
"You hear that?" said Susan, pointing to the door; "now go. I don't wantpeople to say that you come into this kitchen after me."
"I'm here by the cap'n's orders," said Tucker faintly. "I don't want tobe here--far from it. As for people saying that I come here after you,them as knows me would laugh at the idea."
"If I had my way," said Susan, in a hard rasping voice, "I'd box yourears for you. That's what I'd do to you, and you can go and tell thecap'n I said so. Spy!"
This was the first verse of the first watch, and there were many verses.To add to his discomfort he was confined to the house, as his chargemanifested no desire to go outside, and as neither she nor her auntcared about the trouble of bringing him to a fit and proper state ofsubjection, the task became a labour of love for the energetic Susan. Inspite of everything, however, he stuck to his guns, and the indignantChrissie, who was in almost hourly communication with Metcalfe throughthe medium of her faithful handmaiden, was rapidly becoming desperate.
On the fourth day, time getting short, Chrissie went on a new tack withher keeper, and Susan, sorely against her will, had to follow suit.Chrissie smiled at him, Susan called him Mr. Tucker, and Miss Polsongave him a glass of her best wine. From the position of an outcast, hejumped in one bound to that of confidential adviser. Miss Polson toldhim many items of family interest, and later on in the afternoonactually consulted him as to a bad cold which Chrissie had developed.
He prescribed half-a-pint of linseed oil hot, but Miss Polson favouredchlorodyne. The conversation then turned on the deadly qualities of thatdrug when taken in excess, of the fatal sleep in which it lulled itsvictims. So disastrous were the incidents cited, that half an hourlater, when, her aunt and Susan being out, Chrissie took a small bottleof chlorodyne from the mantel-piece, the boatswain implored her to tryhis nastier but safer remedy instead.
"Nonsense!" said Chrissie, "I'm only going to take twentydrops--one--two--three--"
The drug suddenly poured out in a little stream.
"I should think that's about it," said Chrissie, holding the tumbler upto the light.
"It's about five hundred!" said the horrified Tucker. "Don't take that,miss, whatever you do; let me measure it for you."
The girl waved him away, and, before he could interfere, drank off thecontents of the glass and resumed her seat. The boatswain watched heruneasily, and taking up the phial carefully read through the directions.After that he was not at all surprised to see the book fall from hischarge's hand on to the floor, and her eyes close.
"I knowed it," said Tucker, in a profuse perspiration, "I knowed it.Them blamed gals are all alike. Always knows what's best. Miss Polson!Miss Polson!"
He shook her roughly, but to no purpose, and then running to the door,shouted eagerly for Susan. No reply forthcoming he ran to the window,but there was nobody in sight, and he came back and stood in front ofthe girl, wringing his huge hands helplessly. It was a great questionfor a poor sailor-man. If he went for the doctor he deserted his post;if he didn't go his charge might die. He made one more attempt to awakenher, and, seizing a flower-glass, splashed her freely with cold water.She did not even wince.
"It's no use fooling with it," murmured Tucker; "I must get the doctor,that's all."
He quitted the room, and, dashing hastily downstairs, had already openedthe hall door when a thought struck him, and he came back again.Chrissie was still asleep in the chair, and, with a smile at the cleverway in which he had solved a difficulty, he stooped down, and, raisingher in his strong arms, bore her from the room and downstairs. Then ahitch occurred. The triumphant progress was marred by the behaviour ofthe hall door, which, despite his efforts, refused to be opened, and,encumbered by his fair burden, he could not for some time ascertain thereason. Then, full of shame that so much deceit could exist in so fairand frail a habitation, he discovered that Miss Polson's foot waspressing firmly against it. Her eyes were still closed and her headheavy, but the fact remained that one foot was acting in a manner thatwas full of intelligence and guile, and when he took it away from thedoor the other one took its place. By a sudden manoeuvre the wily Tuckerturned his back on the door, and opened it, and, at the same moment, ahand came to life again and dealt him a stinging slap on the face.
"Idiot!" said the indignant Chrissie, slipping from his arms andconfronting him. "How dare you take such a liberty?"
The astonished boatswain felt his face, and regarded her open-mouthed.
"Don't you ever dare to speak to me again," said the offended maiden,drawing herself up with irreproachable dignity. "I am disgusted withyour conduct. Most unbearable!"
"I was carrying you off to the doctor," said the boatswain. "How was Ito know you was only shamming?"
"SHAMMING?" said Chrissie, in tones of incredulous horror. "I wasasleep. I often go to sleep in the afternoon."
The boatswain made no reply, except to grin with great intelligence ashe followed his charge upstairs again. He grinned at intervals until thereturn of Susan and M
iss Polson, who, trying to look unconcerned, camein later on, both apparently suffering from temper, Susan especially.Amid the sympathetic interruptions of these listeners Chrissie recountedher experiences, while the boatswain, despite his better sense, feltlike the greatest scoundrel unhung, a feeling which was fostered by theremarks of Susan and the chilling regards of Miss Poison.
"I shall inform the captain," said Miss Polson, bridling. "It's myduty."
"Oh, I shall tell him," said Chrissie. "I shall tell him the moment hecomes in at the door."
"So shall I," said Susan; "the idea of taking such liberties!"
Having fired this broadside, the trio watched the enemy narrowly andanxiously.
"If I've done anything wrong, ladies," said the unhappy boatswain, "I amsorry for it. I can't say anything fairer than that, and I'll tell thecap'n myself exactly how I came to do it when he comes in."
"Pah! tell-tale!" said Susan.
"Of course, if you are here to fetch and carry," said Miss Polson, withwithering emphasis.
"The idea of a grown man telling tales," said Chrissie scornfully."Baby!"
"Why, just now you were all going to tell him yourselves," said thebewildered boatswain.
The two elder women rose and regarded him with looks of pitying disdain.Miss Polson's glance said "Fool!" plainly; Susan, a simple child ofnature, given to expressing her mind freely, said "Blockhead!" withconviction.
"I see 'ow it is," said the boatswain, after ruminating deeply. "Well, Iwon't split, ladies. I can see now you was all in it, and it was alittle job to get me out of the house."
"What a head he has got," said the irritated Susan; "isn't it wonderfulhow he thinks of it all! Nobody would think he was so clever to look athim."
"Still waters run deep," said the boatswain, who was beginning to have ahigh opinion of himself.
"And pride goes before a fall," said Chrissie; "remember that, Mr.Tucker."
Mr. Tucker grinned, but, remembering the fable of the pitcher and thewell, pressed his superior officer that evening to relieve him from hisduties. He stated that the strain was slowly undermining a constitutionwhich was not so strong as appearances would warrant, and that hisknowledge of female nature was lamentably deficient on many importantpoints. "You're doing very well," said the captain, who had no intentionof attending any more Dorcases, "very well indeed; I am proud of you."
"It isn't a man's work," objected the boatswain. "Besides, if anythinghappens you'll blame me for it."
"Nothing can happen," declared the captain confidently. "We shall make astart in about four days now. You're the only man I can trust with sucha difficult job, Tucker, and I shan't forget you."
"Very good," said the other dejectedly. "I obey orders, then."
The next day passed quietly, the members of the household making a greatfuss of Tucker, and thereby filling him with forebodings of the worstpossible nature. On the day after, when the captain, having business ata neighbouring town, left him in sole charge, his uneasiness could notbe concealed.
"I'm going for a walk," said Chrissie, as he sat by himself, working outdangerous moves and the best means of checking them; "would you care tocome with me, Tucker?"
"I wish you wouldn't put it that way, miss," said the boatswain, as hereached for his hat.
"I want exercise," said Chrissie; "I've been cooped up long enough."
She set off at a good pace up the High Street, attended by her faithfulfollower, and passing through the small suburbs, struck out into thecountry beyond. After four miles the boatswain, who was no walker,reminded her that they had got to go back.
"Plenty of time," said Chrissie, "we have got the day before us. Isn'tit glorious? Do you see that milestone, Tucker? I'll race you to it;come along."
She was off on the instant, with the boatswain, who suspected treachery,after her.
"You CAN run," she panted, thoughtfully, as she came in second; "we'llhave another one presently. You don't know how good it is for you,Tucker."
The boatswain grinned sourly and looked at her from the corner of hiseye. The next three miles passed like a horrible nightmare; his chargemaking a race for every milestone, in which the labouring boatswain,despite his want of practice, came in the winner. The fourth endeddisastrously, Chrissie limping the last ten yards, and seating herselfwith a very woebegone face on the stone itself.
"You did very well, miss," said the boatswain, who thought he couldafford to be generous. "You needn't be offended about it."
"It's my ankle," said Chrissie with a little whimper. "Oh! I twisted itright round."
The boatswain stood regarding her in silent consternation
"It's no use looking like that," said Chrissie sharply, "you greatclumsy thing. If you hadn't have run so hard it wouldn't have happened.It's all your fault."
"If you don't mind leaning on me a bit," said Tucker, "we might getalong."
Chrissie took his arm petulantly, and they started on their returnjourney, at the rate of about four hours a mile, with little cries andgasps at every other yard.
"It's no use," said Chrissie as she relinquished his arm, and, limpingto the side of the road, sat down. The boatswain pricked up his earshopefully at the sound of approaching wheels.
"What's the matter with the young lady?" inquired a groom who wasdriving a little trap, as he pulled up and regarded with interest agrimace of extraordinary intensity on the young lady's face.
"Broke her ankle, I think," said the boatswain glibly. "Which way areyou going?"
"Well, I'm going to Barborough," said the groom; "but my guvnor's ratherpertickler."
"I'll make it all right with you," said the boatswain.
The groom hesitated a minute, and then made way for Chrissie as theboatswain assisted her to get up beside him; then Tucker, with a grin ofsatisfaction at getting a seat once more, clambered up behind, and theystarted.
"Have a rug, mate," said the groom, handing the reins to Chrissie andpassing it over; "put it round your knees and tuck the ends under you."
"Ay, ay, mate," said the boatswain as he obeyed the instructions.
"Are you sure you are quite comfortable?" said the groom affectionately.
"Quite," said the other.
The groom said no more, but in a quiet business-like fashion placed hishands on the seaman's broad back, and shot him out into the road. Thenhe snatched up the reins and drove off at a gallop.
Without the faintest hope of winning, Mr. Tucker, who realised clearly,appearances notwithstanding, that he had fallen into a trap, rose aftera hurried rest and started on his fifth race that morning. The prize wasonly a second-rate groom with plated buttons, who was waving cheeryfarewells to him with a dingy top hat; but the boatswain would havesooner had it than a silver tea-service.
He ran as he had never ran before in his life, but all to no purpose,the trap stopping calmly a little further on to take up anotherpassenger, in whose favour the groom retired to the back seat; then,with a final wave of the hand to him, they took a road to the left anddrove rapidly out of sight. The boatswain's watch was over.
LOW WATER