Dawn

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  The morning after the vessel left Dartmouth brought with it lovelyweather, brisk and clear, with a fresh breeze that just topped theglittering swell with white. There was, however, a considerable rollon the ship, and those poor wretches, who for their sins are given tosea-sickness, were not yet happy. Presently Arthur observed the prettyblack-eyed girl--poor thing, she did not look very pretty now--creepon to the deck and attempt to walk about, an effort which promptlyresulted in a fall into the scuppers. He picked her up, and asked ifshe would not like to sit down, but she faintly declined, saying thatshe did not mind falling so long as she could walk a little--she didnot feel so sick when she walked. Under these circumstances he couldhardly do less than help her, which he did in the only way at allpracticable with one so weak, namely, by walking her about on his arm.

  In the midst of his interesting peregrinations he observed Mrs. Carrgazing out of her deck cabin window, looking, he thought, pale, butsweetly pretty, and rather cross. When that lady saw that she wasobserved, she pulled the curtain with a jerk and vanished. Shortlyafter this Arthur's companion vanished too, circumstances over whichshe had no control compelling her, and Arthur himself sat down ratherrelieved.

  But he was destined that day to play knight-errant to ladies indistress. Presently Mrs. Carr's cabin-door opened, and that ladyherself emerged therefrom, holding on to the side-rail. He had justbegun to observe how charmingly she was dressed, when some qualmseized her, and she returned to re-enter the cabin. But the door hadswung-to with the roll of the vessel, and she could not open it.Impelled by an agony of doubt, she flew to the side, and, to hishorror, sprang with a single bound on to the broad rail thatsurmounted the bulwark netting, and remained seated there, holdingonly to a little rope that hung down from the awning-chain. The ship,which was at the moment rolling pretty heavily, had just reached thefull angle of her windward roll, and was preparing for a heavy swingto leeward. Arthur, seeing that Mrs. Carr would in a few secondscertainly be flung out to sea, rushed promptly forward and lifted herfrom the rail. It was none too soon, for next moment down the greatship went with a lurch into a trough of the sea, hurling him, with herin his arms, up against the bulwarks, and, to say truth, hurting himconsiderably. But, if he expected any thanks for this exploit, he wasdestined to be disappointed, for no sooner had he set his lovelyburden down, than she made use of her freedom to stamp upon the deck.

  "How could you be so foolish?" said he. "In another moment you wouldhave been flung out to sea!"

  "And pray, Mr. Heigham," she answered, in a cutting and sarcasticvoice, "is that my business or your own? Surely it would have beentime enough for you to take a liberty when I asked you to jump overafter me."

  Arthur drew himself up to his full height and looked dignified--hecould look dignified when he liked.

  "I do not quite understand you, Mrs. Carr," he said, with a littlebow. "What I did, I did to save you from going overboard. Next timethat such a little adventure comes in my way, I hope, for my own sake,that it may concern a lady possessed of less rudeness and moregratitude."

  And then, glaring defiance at each other, they separated; she marchingoff with all the dignity of an offended queen to the "sweet seclusionthat a cabin grants," whilst he withdrew moodily to a bench,comforted, however, not a little by the thought that he had given Mrs.Carr a Roland for her Oliver.

  Mrs. Carr's bound on to the bulwarks had been the last effort of thatprince of demons, sea-sickness, rending her ere he left. When theoccasion for remaining there had thus passed away, she soon tired ofher cabin and of listening to the inarticulate moans of her belovedAgatha, who was a most faithful subject of the fiend, one who wouldnever desert his manner so long as he could roll the tiniest wave,and, sallying forth, took up her position in the little society of theship.

  But between Arthur and herself there was no attempt at reconciliation.Each felt their wrongs to be as eternal as the rocks. At luncheon theylooked unutterable things from different sides of the table; going into dinner, she cut him with the sweetest grace, and on the followingmorning they naturally removed to situations as remote from each otheras the cubic area of a mail steamer would allow.

  "Pretty, very much so, but ill-mannered; not quite a lady, I shouldsay," reflected Arthur to himself, with a superior smile.

  "I detest him," said Mrs. Carr to herself, "at least, I think I do;but how neatly he put me down! There is no doubt about his being agentleman, though insufferably conceited."

  These uncharitable thoughts rankled in their respective minds about 12A.M. What then was Arthur's disgust, on descending a little late toluncheon that day, to be informed by the resplendent chief-steward--who, for some undiscovered reason, always reminded him of Pharaoh'sbutler--that the captain had altered the places at table, and thatthis alteration involved his being placed next to none other than Mrs.Carr. Everybody was already seated, and it was too late to protest, atany rate for that meal; so he had to choose between submission andgoing without his luncheon. Being extremely hungry, he decided for thefirst alternative, and reluctantly brought himself to a halt next hisavowed enemy.

  But surprises, like sorrows, come in battalions, a fact that he verydistinctly realized when, having helped himself to some chicken, heheard a clear voice at his side address him by name.

  "Mr. Heigham," said the voice, "I have not yet thanked you for yourkindness to Miss Terry. I am commissioned to assure you that she isvery grateful, since she is prevented by circumstances from doing soherself."

  "I am much gratified," he replied, stiffly; "but really I did nothingto deserve thanks, and if I had," he added, with a touch of sarcasm,"I should not have expected any."

  "Oh! what a cynic you must be," she answered with a rippling laugh,"as though women, helpless as they are, were not always thankful forthe tiniest attention. Did not the pretty girl with the black eyesthank you for your attentions yesterday, for instance?"

  "Did the lady with the brown eyes thank me for my attentions--my verynecessary attentions--yesterday, for instance?" he answered, somewhatmollified, for the laugh and the voice would have thawed a humanicicle, and, with all his faults, Arthur was not an icicle.

  "No, she did not; she deferred doing so in order that she might do itbetter. It was very kind of you to help me, and I daresay that yousaved my life, and I--I beg your pardon for being so cross, but beingsea-sick always makes me cross, even to those who are kindest to me.Do you forgive me? Please forgive me; I really am quite unhappy when Ithink of my behaviour." And Mrs. Carr shot a glance at him that wouldhave cleared the North-West Passage for a man-of-war.

  "Please don't apologize," he said, humbly. "I really have nothing toforgive. I am aware that I took a liberty, as you put it, but Ithought that I was justified by the circumstances."

  "It is not generous of you, Mr. Heigham, to throw my words into myteeth. I had forgotten all about them. But I will set your want offeeling against my want of gratitude, and we kiss and be friends."

  "I can assure you, Mrs. Carr, that there is nothing in the world Ishould like better. When shall the ceremony come off?"

  "Now you are laughing at me, and actually interpreting what I sayliterally, as though the English language were not full of figures ofspeech. By that phrase," and she blushed a little--that is, her cheektook a deeper shade of coral--"I meant that we would not cut eachother after lunch."

  "You bring me from the seventh heaven of expectation into a veryprosaic world; but I accept your terms, whatever they are. I amconquered."

  "For exactly half an hour. But let us talk sense. Are you going tostop at Madeira?"

  "Yes."

  "For how long?"

  "I don't know; till I get tired of it, I suppose. Is it nice,Madeira?"

  "Charming. I live there half the year."

  "Ah, then I can well believe that it is charming."

  "Mr. Heigham, you are paying compliments. I thought that you lookedabove that sort of thing."

  "In
the presence of misfortune and of beauty"--here he bowed--"all menare reduced to the same level. Talk to me from behind a curtain, orlet me turn my back upon you, and you may expect to hear work-a-dayprose--but face to face, I fear that you must put up with compliment."

  "A neat way of saying that you have had enough of me. Your complimentsare two-edged. Good-bye for the present." And she rose, leaving Arthur--well, rather amused.

  After this they saw a good deal of each other--that is to say, theyconversed together for at least thirty minutes out of every sixtyduring an average day of fourteen hours, and in the course of theseconversations she learned nearly everything about him, except hisengagement to Angela, and she shrewdly guessed at that, or, rather, atsome kindred circumstance in his career. Arthur, on the other hand,learned quite everything about her, for her life was open as the day,and would have borne repeating in the _Times_ newspaper. Butnevertheless he found it extremely interesting.

  "You must be a busy woman," he said one morning, when he had beenlistening to one of her rattling accounts of her travels and gaieties,sprinkled over, as it was, with the shrewd remarks, and illumined bythe keen insight into character that made her talk so charming.

  "Busy, no; one of the idlest in the world, and a very worthless one toboot," she answered, with a little sigh.

  "Then, why don't you change your life? it is in your own hands, ifever anybody's was."

  "Do you think so? I doubt if anybody's life is in their own hands. Wefollow an appointed course; if we did not, it would be impossible tounderstand why so many sensible, clever people make such a completemess of their existence. They can't do it from choice."

  "At any rate, you have not made a mess of yours, and your appointedcourse seems a very pleasant one."

  "Yes; and the sea beneath us is very smooth, but it has been roughbefore, and will be rough again--there is no stability in the sea. Asto making a mess of my life, who knows what I may not accomplish inthat way? Prosperity cannot shine down fear of the future, it onlythrows it into darker relief. Myself I am afraid of the future--it isunknown, and to me what is unknown is not magnificent, but terrible.The present is enough for me. I do not like speculation, and I neverloved the dark."

  And, as they talked, Madeira, in all its summer glory, loomed up outof the ocean, for they had passed the "Desertas" and "Porto Santo" bynight, and for a while they were lost in the contemplation of one ofthe most lovely and verdant scenes that the world can show. Beforethey had well examined it, however, the vessel had dropped her anchor,and was surrounded by boats full of custom-house officials, boats fullof diving boys, of vegetables, of wicker chairs and tables, ofparrots, fruit, and "other articles too numerous to mention," as theysay in the auctioneer's catalogues, and they knew that it was time togo ashore.

  "Well, it has been a pleasant voyage," said Mrs. Carr. "I am glad youare not going on."

  "So am I."

  "You will come and see me to-morrow, will you not? Look, there is myhouse," and she pointed to a large, white house opposite Leeuw Rock,that had a background of glossy foliage, and commanded a view of thesea. "If you come, I will show you my beetles. And, if you care tocome next day, I will show you my mummies."

  "And, if I come the next, what will you show me?"

  "So often as you may come," she said, with a little tremor in hervoice, "I shall find something to show you."

  Then they shook hands and took their respective ways, she--togetherwith the unfortunate Miss Terry, who looked like a resuscitated corpse--on to the steam-launch that was waiting for her, and he in the boatbelonging to Miles' Hotel.