The Cruise of the Frolic

  CHAPTER TEN.

  WHY A BACHELOR TOOK TO YACHTING--THE RIVAL SUITORS--A DOUBTFULCHARACTER.

  Awakened one morning towards the close of the last London season by thepostman's rap, my friend Harcourt found, on reading his letters, that hehad become the owner of the "Amethyst" cutter, and a member of the RoyalYacht Club. Possessing an independent fortune, a large circle ofacquaintance, several stanch friends, and few enemies, he ought to havebeen a happy man--but he was not. The fact is, he did not know what todo with himself. He had travelled not only over the Continent, but hadvisited the three other quarters of the globe. He had gone throughseveral London seasons, and run the rounds of innumerable country-houseswhere there were marriageable daughters, but had neither fallen in love,nor been drawn into a proposal. In truth, he believed with his friendsthat he was not a marrying man. He had become heartily sick of dustyroads, passage-steamers, hot rooms, dissipation, and manoeuvring mammas,when I, who had of old been his messmate, recommended him to tryyachting for the summer.

  "What, go to sea for pleasure?" he exclaimed, in a tone of contempt."You surely cannot suggest such a folly. I had enough of it when I wasa poor young middy, and obliged to buffet the rude winds and waves;but--"

  "Well; think about it," were the last words I uttered as I left him.

  He _did_ think about it, and thought, too, perhaps, he might like it.He was not a novice, for he had for some years of his existence servedhis country in the exalted capacity of a midshipman; but on succeeding,by the death of an elder brother and an uncle, to some few thousands ayear, he magnanimously determined, by the advice of his lady mother, notto stand in the way of the promotion of any of his brother-officers, andretired from the career of glory he was following. I cannot say thatthe thoughts of leaving his profession gave him much regret,particularly as being too old to return to school, and too ignorant ofLatin and Greek to think of the university, he was henceforth to be hisown master. If now and then he acknowledged to himself that he mighthave been a happier man with a pursuit in life, I cannot say--I am notmoralising. So much for his past life.

  After I left him he meditated on the subject I had suggested, he toldme; and the next time we met, we talked it over, and as I was going downto Portsmouth, he gave me _carte blanche_ to buy a vessel for him, therenot being time to build one. This letter communicated the result of mysearch. Having made himself master of this and a few other bits ofinformation, he turned round, as was his custom after reading hisletters, to sleep off the weariness of body and mind with which he hadlately been afflicted, but as he lay dozing on his luxurious couch,visions of the "Amethyst," flitted across his brain. A light, gracefulcraft, as she probably was, with a broad spread of white canvas, glidinglike some lovely spirit over the blue ocean. "Who shall sail with me,"he thought. "Brine, of course. Where shall we go? When shall westart? What adventures shall we probably encounter? How shall I againlike to find myself on the surface of the fickle sea?" The case,however, from the Then and the Now was widely different. Then he was amidshipman in a cockpit, at the beck and order of a dozen or twentymasters. Now he was to enjoy a command independent of the admiralty andtheir sealed orders, admirals, or senior captains. His own will, andthe winds and tides, the only powers he was to obey.

  "By Jove! there is something worth living for," he exclaimed, as hejumped out of bed. "I'll forswear London forthwith. I'll hurry offfrom its scheming and heartlessness, its emptiness and frivolity. I'llgo afloat at once. Brine is right. He's a capital fellow. It was abright idea. I'll try first how I like channel cruising. I can alwayscome on shore if it bores me. If I find it pleasant, I'll buy a largercraft next year. I'll go up the Straits, perhaps out to visit my friendBrooke at Borneo, and round the world."

  He bathed, breakfasted, drove to his tailor's, looked in at the Carltonand the Conservative, fulfilled a dinner engagement, and in the eveningwent to three parties, at all of which places he astonished hisacquaintances by the exuberance of his spirits.

  "The fact is," he answered to their inquiries as by what wonderful meansthe sudden change had been wrought, "I've broken my trammels. I'm off.A few days hence and London shall know me no more. To be plain, I'mgoing to turn marine monster, don a monkey-jacket, cultivate a beard,wear a tarpaulin hat, smoke cigars, and put my hands in my pockets. Weshall meet again at Cowes, Torquay, Plymouth, or one of the other saltwater places. Till then, _au revoir_."

  As he was entering Lady L--'s door, who should he meet coming out buthis old friend O'Malley, whom he had not seen for ages! He knew thathis regiment had just come back from India, so he was not very muchsurprised. He took his arm and returned into the rooms with him. Now,O'Malley was an excellent fellow, agreeable, accomplished, and possessedof a fund of good spirits, which nothing could ruffle. He was, indeed,a good specimen of an Irish gentleman. He sang a good song, told a goodstory, and made friends wherever he went. Such was just the man underevery circumstance for a _compagnon de voyage_. He hesitated not amoment in inviting him, and, to his infinite satisfaction, he at onceaccepted the offer.

  A week after he had become the owner of the "Amethyst," O'Malley and hewere seated in a Southampton railroad carriage, on their way to Cowes,where she was fitting out under my inspection. In the division oppositeto them sat a little man whom they at once perceived to belong to thegenus snob. He had a comical little face of his own, lighted by a pairof round eyes, with a meaningless expression, fat cheeks, a somewhatlarge open mouth, and a pug nose with large nostrils.

  "Beg pardon, sir," he observed to O'Malley, on whose countenance he sawa smile playing, which encouraged him. "Hope I don't interrupt theperusal of your paper? Ah, no--concluded--topped off with births,deaths, marriages, and advertisements. See mine there soon. Don't meanan advertisement, nor my birth, ha, ha! too old a bird for that; nordeath, you may suppose; I mean t'other--eh, you twig? coming the tender,wooing, and wedding--hope soon to fix the day:"--suddenly he turnedround to Harcourt--"Reading the `Daily'?--Ah, no, the `Times,' I see.--Any news, sir?"

  They did look at him with astonishment, but, at the same time, were soamused that, of course, they humoured the little man. Harcourt,therefore, unfroze, and smiling, offered him the paper.

  "Oh dear! many thanks, didn't want it," he answered; "can't read in arailroad, afraid to interrupt you before you'd finished. Going down tothe sea, I suppose?--So am I. Abroad, perhaps?--I'm not. Got ayacht?--national amusement. Sail about the Wight?--pretty scenery,smooth water, I'm told. Young lady, fond of boating--sure way to winher heart. Come it strong--squeeze her hand, can't get away. Eh, seeI'm up to a trick or two."

  In this absurdly vulgar style he ran on, while they stared, wonderingwho he could be. Finding that, they said nothing, he began again.

  "Fond of yachting, gentlemen?"

  "I believe so," answered Harcourt.

  "So am I.--Got a yacht?" he asked.

  Harcourt nodded.

  "What's her name?"

  Harcourt told him.

  "Mine's the `Dido.' Pretty name, isn't it? short and sweet. Dido wasQueen of Sheba, you know--ran away with Ulysses, the Trojan hero, andthen killed herself with an adder because he wouldn't marry her.Learned all that when I was at school. She's at Southampton, but Ibelong to the club. Only twenty-five tons--little, but good. Not aclipper I own--stanch and steady, that's my motto. Warwick Ribbons hasalways a welcome for his friends. That's me, at your service.Christened Warwick from the great Guy. Rough it now and then. Youwon't mind that. Eggs and bacon, and a plain chop, but weeds and liquor_ad lib_. Brother yachtsmen, you know. Bond of union." They winced alittle. "Shall meet often, I hope, as my father used to say each timehe passed the bottle. David Ribbons was his name. Good man. Merchantin the city. Cut up well. Left me and brother Barnabas a mint ofmoney. Barnabas sticks to trade. I've cut it. Made a lucky spec, inrailroads, and am flaring up a bit. Here we are at the end of ourjourney," he exclaimed, as the train stopped at Southampton. "We s
hallmeet again on board the `Dido.' Remember me. Warwick Ribbons, youknow--good-by good-by." And before they were aware of his friendlyintentions, he had grasped them both warmly by the hand. "I must seeafter my goods--my trunks, I mean." So saying, he set off to overtakethe porter, who was wheeling away his traps.

  Harcourt never felt more inclined to give way to a hearty fit oflaughter, and O'Malley indulged himself to his heart's content.

  In an hour after this they were steaming down the Southampton Water ontheir way to Cowes. Just as they got clear of the pier they againbeheld their friend, Warwick Ribbons, on the deck of a remarkably uglylittle red-bottomed cutter, which they had no doubt was the "Dido." Herecognised them, apparently, for, holding on by the rigging, he jumpedon the gunwale, waving his hat vehemently to draw their attention andthat of the other passengers to himself and his craft, but of coursethey did not consider it necessary to acknowledge his salute. Thisvexed him, for he turned round and kicked a dirty-looking boy, whichalso served to let everybody know that he was master of the "Dido." Theboy uttered a howl and ran forward, little Ribbons followed him roundand round the deck, repeating the dose as long as they could see him.

  I was the first person they met on landing at Cowes, and Harcourt,having introduced O'Malley to me, we repaired to the "Amethyst," lyingoff White's Yard. We pulled round her twice, to examine her thoroughlybefore we went on board. He was not disappointed in her, for thoughsmaller than he could have wished--she measured sixty tons--she was aperfect model of symmetry and beauty. She was also so well fittedwithin that she had accommodation equal to many vessels of nearly twiceher size.

  Three days more passed, and the "Amethyst" was stored, provisioned, andreported ready for sea. Harcourt's spirits rose to an elevation he hadnot experienced for years, as, on one of the most beautiful mornings ofthat beautiful season, his craft, with a light wind from the southward,glided out of Cowes Harbour.

  "What a wonderful effect has the pure fresh air, after the smoke andheat of London!" exclaimed O'Malley. "Let me once inhale the real saltbreeze, and I shall commit a thousand unthought-of vagaries, and so willyou, let me tell you; you'll be no more like yourself, the man abouttown, than the `Amethyst' to a coal-barge, or choose any other simileyou may prefer."

  We had now got clear of the harbour, so I ordered the vessel to behove-to, that, consulting the winds and tides, we might determine thebest course to take.

  "Where shall we go, then?" asked Harcourt. "The flood has just done.See, that American ship has begun to swing, so we have the whole ebb toget to the westward."

  "We'll take a short trip to spread our wings and try their strength," Ianswered. "What say you to a run through the Needles down to Weymouth?We shall be back in time for dinner to-morrow."

  We all three had an engagement for the next day to dine with Harcourt'sfriends, the Granvilles, one of the few families of his acquaintance whohad yet come down.

  "As you like it; but hang these dinner engagements in the yachtingseason," exclaimed O'Malley. "I hope you put in a proviso that, shouldthe winds drive us, we were at liberty to run over to Cherbourg, or downto Plymouth, or do as we pleased."

  "No," he answered; "the fact is, I scarcely thought the vessel would beready so soon, and we are bound to do our best to return."

  "And I see no great hardship in being obliged to eat a good dinner inthe company of such nice girls as the Miss Granvilles seem to be," I putin.

  "Well, then, that's settled," Harcourt exclaimed. "We've no time tolose, however, though we have a soldier's wind. Up with the helm--letdraw the foresail--keep her away, Griffiths." And the sails of thelittle craft filling, she glided gracefully through the water, shootingpast Egypt Point, notwithstanding the light air, at the rate of some sixknots an hour. Gradually as the sun rose the breeze freshened.Gracefully she heeled over to it. The water bubbled and hissed roundher bows, and faster and faster she walked along.

  "She's got it in her, sir, depend on't," said Griffiths, as he eyed thegaff-topsail with a knowing look. "There won't be many who can catchher, I'll answer. I was speaking yesterday to my brother-in-law, whosecousin was her master last summer, from the time she was launched, andhe gave her a first-rate character--such a sea-boat, sir, as weatherlyand dry as a duck. They were one whole day hove-to in the Chops of theChannel without shipping a drop of water, while a big ship, beating uppast them, had her decks washed fore and aft."

  Griffiths' satisfactory praise of the craft was cut short by theannouncement of breakfast, and, with keen appetites, we descended todiscuss as luxurious a meal as three bachelors ever sat down to. Tea,coffee, chocolate, hot rolls, eggs, pickled salmon, lamb chops,kaplines, and orange marmalade, were some of the ingredients. Then camesome capital cigars, on which Harcourt and O'Malley had chosen acommittee of connoisseurs at the Garrick to sit before they selectedthem.

  "We bachelors lead a merry life, and few that are married lead better,"sang O'Malley, as he lighted his first Havana.

  "On my word you're right," chimed in Harcourt. "Now I should like anyone to point me out three more happy fellows than we are and ought tobe. What folly it would be for either of us to think of turningBenedict!"

  "Faith, an officer in a marching regiment, with only his pay to live onhad better not bring his thoughts into practice, at all events,"observed O'Malley. "Such has been the conclusion to which I have alwaysarrived after having fallen in love with half the lovely girls I havemet in my life; and, as ill luck would have it, somehow or other if theyhave been heiresses, I could not help thinking that it might be theirmoney which attracted me more than their pretty selves, and I haveinvariably run off without proposing. I once actually went down tomarry a girl with a large fortune, whose friends said she was dying forme, but unfortunately she had a pretty little cousin staying with her, aperfect Hebe in form and face, and, on my life, I could not help makinglove to her instead of the right lady, who, of course, discarded me, asI deserved, on the spot."

  As we opened Scratchell's Bay to the south of the Needles, O'Malley, whohad never been there before, was delighted with the view.

  "The pointed chalk rocks of the Needles running like a broken wall intothe sea, the lofty white cliff presenting a daring front to the stormsof the west, the protector, as it were, of the soft and fertile landswithin; the smooth downs above, with their watchful lighthouse, theparty-coloured cliffs of Alum Bay, and Hurst Castle and its attendanttowers, invading the waters at the end of the yellow sandbank. Come,that description will do for the next tourist who wanders this way," heexclaimed. "Ah, now we are really at sea," he continued; "don't youdiscover the difference of the land wind and the cool, salt,exhilarating breeze which has just filled our sails, both by feel,taste, smell? At last I begin to get rid of the fogs of London whichhave hitherto been hanging about me."

  As the sun rose the wind freshened, and we had a beautiful run toWeymouth. We brought up in the bay near a fine cutter, which weremarked particularly, as there were very few other yachts there at thetime. Manning the gig, we pulled on shore to pass away the time tilldinner, and as none of us had ever been there before, we took a turn tothe end of the esplanade to view that once favourite residence ofroyalty.

  As we were walking back we met a man in yachting costume, who, lookinghard at O'Malley, came up and shook him warmly by the hand. I also knewhis face, but could not recollect where I had seen him, and so itappeared had Harcourt. Slipping his arm through that of O'Malley, whointroduced him as Mr Miles Sandgate, he turned back with us. He seemeda jovial, hail-fellow-well-met sort of character, not refined, but veryamusing; so, without further thought, as we were about to embark,Harcourt asked him on board to dine with us. He at once accepted theinvitation, and as we passed the yacht we had admired, we found that shebelonged to him. I remarked that she had no yacht burgee flying, and hedid not speak of belonging to any club. He might, to be sure, havelately bought her, and not had time to be elected. But then, again, hehad evidently been constantly at sea, and
was, as far as I had anopportunity of judging, a very good seaman.

  The dinner passed off very pleasantly. Harcourt's cook proved that hewas a first-rate nautical _chef_. Our new acquaintance made himselfhighly amusing by his anecdotes of various people, and his adventures bysea and land in every part of the globe. There was, however, arecklessness in his manner, and at times a certain assumption andbravado, which I did not altogether like. After we had despatched ourcoffee, and a number of cigars, he took his leave, inviting us on boardthe "Rover," the name of his yacht; but we declined, on the plea ofwishing to get under way again that evening. In fact, we had agreed toreturn at once to Cowes to be in time for our dinner at the Granvilles'.

  "Oh, then you must breakfast with me to-morrow morning, for I am boundfor the same place, and shall keep you company," he observed, with alaugh; "though I have no doubt that the `Amethyst' is a fast craft, yetI am so much larger that you must not be offended at my considering itprobable that I shall be able to keep up with you."

  On this Harcourt could not, in compliment to O'Malley, help asking himto remain longer with us, and he sending a message on board his vessel,both yachts got under way together. Perhaps he perceived a certain wantof cordiality in Harcourt's manner towards him, as he was evidently akeen observer of other men; for at all events he did his utmost toingratiate himself with him, and during the second half of his stay onboard he had entirely got rid of the manner which annoyed him, appearingcompletely a man of the world, well read, and conversant with goodsociety. At the same time he did not hint to what profession he hadbelonged, nor what had taken him to the different places of which hespoke. In fact, we could not help feeling that there was a certainmystery about him which he did not choose to disclose. At a late hourhe hailed his own vessel, and his boat took him on board her. The windwas so light, that, till the tide turned to the eastward, we made butlittle progress; but the moon was up, and the air soft and balmy, andmost unwillingly we turned in before we got through the Needles.

  As soon as our visitor had left us, O'Malley told us that he had met himmany years before in India, at the house of a relation, he believed, ofSandgate's; that this relation had nursed him most kindly through asevere illness with which he had been attacked, and that he had, on hisrecovery, travelled with Sandgate through the country. He met him onceor twice after that, and he then disappeared from India, nor had he seenhim again, till he encountered him in London soon after his return. Hebelieved that he had been connected with the opium trade, and suspectedthat he had actually commanded an opium clipper in his more youthfuldays, though he fancied he had engaged in the pursuit for the sake ofthe excitement and danger it afforded, as he appeared superior to thegeneral run of men employed in it.

  The next morning, the tide having made against us, we brought up offYarmouth, when we went on board the "Rover," to breakfast, and a verysumptuous entertainment Mr Sandgate gave us, with some cigars, whichbeat any thing I had ever tasted. The cabin we went into was handsomelyfitted up; but he did not go through the usual ceremony of showing usover the vessel. It was late in the afternoon when the two vesselsanchored in Cowes Harbour.

  Soon after we brought up we saw the "Dido" come into the harbour, andjust as we were going on shore, Mr Ribbons himself, in full nauticalcostume, pulled alongside. He insisted on coming on board, and taxedHarcourt's hospitality considerably before we could get rid of him.Hearing me mention the Granvilles, he very coolly asked us to introducehim. "Why, you see," he added, "there's an acquaintance of mine, Ifind, staying with them whom I should like to meet." We all, of course,positively declined the honour he intended us.

  "Probably if you send a note to your friend he may do as you wish," Iobserved. "I am not on sufficiently intimate terms with the family."

  "Oh! why you see it's a lady--a young lady, you know--and I can'texactly ask her."

  "I regret, but it is impossible, my dear sir," I answered. "You mustexcuse us, or we shall be late for dinner;" and leaving him biting histhumbs with doubt and vexation, we pulled on shore.

  The party at the Granvilles' was excessively pleasant. The MissGranvilles were pretty, nice girls, and they had a friend staying withthem, who struck me as being one of the most lovely creatures I had everseen. She had dark hair and eyes, with an alabaster complexion, afigure slight and elegant, and features purely classical; the expressionof her countenance was intelligent and sweet in the extreme, but a shadeof melancholy occasionally passed over it, which she in vain endeavouredto conceal. Harcourt at once became deeply interested in her, though hecould learn little more about her than that her name was Emily Manners,and that she was staying with some friends at Ryde, the Bosleys, heunderstood. Who they were he could not tell, for he had never heardtheir names before. She sang very delightfully; and some more peoplecoming in, we even accomplished a polka. During the evening, while hewas speaking to her, he overheard O'Malley, in his usually amusing way,describing our rencontre with Mr Warwick Ribbons, and he was surprised,when she heard his name, to see her start and look evidently annoyed,though she afterwards could not help smiling as he continued drawing hispicture.

  "And, do you know, Miss Granville," he added, "he wanted us to bring himhere, declaring that some mutual and very dear friend of his and yourswas staying, with you."

  "Absurd! Who can the man be?" said Miss Granville. "Miss Manners isthe only friend staying with us, and I am sure she cannot know such aperson, if your description of him is correct. Do you, Emily, dear?"

  To my astonishment, Miss Manners blushed, and answered, "I am acquaintedwith a Mr Ribbons; that is to say, he is a friend of Mr Bosley's; butI must disclaim any intimacy with him, and I trust that he did notassume otherwise."

  O'Malley saw that he had made a mistake, and with good tact took painsto show that he fully believed little Ribbons had imposed on us, beforehe quietly dropped the subject, and branched off into some other amusingstory.

  The Granvilles and their fair friend promised to take a cruise in the"Amethyst" on the following day, but as the weather proved not veryfavourable, Harcourt put off their visit till the day after. He thusalso gained an excuse for passing a greater part of it in their society.

  As we walked down to the esplanade in front of the club-house to look atthe yacht, which they had expressed a wish to see, we encountered noless a person than Warwick Ribbons himself. He passed us several timeswithout venturing to speak; but at last, mustering courage, he walked upto Miss Manners and addressed her--

  "Good morning, Miss Emily. Happy to see you here. Couldn't tell whereyou'd run to, till old Bosley told me. Been looking for you in everyplace along the coast. Venture back to Ryde in the `Dido'? Come, now,you never yet have been on board, and I got her on purpose"--he was, Iverily believe, going to say "for you," but he lost confidence, andfinished with a smirking giggle--"to take young ladies out, you know."

  Harcourt felt inclined to throw the little abomination into the water.

  "Thank you," said Miss Manners; "I prefer returning by the steamer."

  "Oh, dear, now that is--but I'm going to see your guardian, Miss, andmay I take a letter to him just to say you're well?" asked Mr Ribbons;"he'll not be pleased if I don't."

  "I prefer writing by the post," answered Emily, now really becomingannoyed at his pertinacity.

  "You won't come and take a sail with me, then?" he continued; "you andyour friends, I mean."

  She shook her head and bowed.

  "Well, then, if you won't, I'm off," he exclaimed, with a look ofreproach, and, striking his forehead, he turned round and tumbled intohis boat.

  We watched him on board his vessel, and the first thing he did was toset to and beat his boy; he then dived down below and returned with aswimming belt, or rather jacket, on, which he immediately began to fillwith air, till he looked like a balloon or a Chinese tumbler. The"Dido," then got under way; but her crew were apparently drunk, for shefirst very nearly ran right on to the quay, and then foul of a boatwhich was conveying
a band of musicians across the river.

  A most amusing scene ensued, Ribbons abused the musicians, who hadnothing at all to do with it, and they retorted on him, trying to fendoff the vessel with their trombones, trumpets, and cornopeans. At onetime they seemed inclined to jump on board and take forcible possessionof the "Dido," but they thought better of it, and when they got clearthey put forth such a discordant blast of derision, finishing like apeal of laughter, that all the spectators on shore could not helpjoining them, and I wonder the little man ever had courage again to sethis foot in Cowes.

  We were still on the quay when Sandgate came on shore and passed us; ashe did so, he nodded to us, and I observed him looking very hard at MissManners. He soon after, without much ceremony, joined us, and managedquietly to enter into conversation with all the ladies. After sometime, however, I perceived that he devoted his attention almostexclusively to Emily. He was just the sort of fellow to attract manywomen, and I suspect that Harcourt felt a twinge of jealousy attackinghim, and regretted that O'Malley had ever introduced him; at the sametime I trusted that Emily would perceive that want of innate refinementwhich I had discovered at once; but then, I thought, women have have notthe same means of judging of men which men have of each other. He didnot, however, speak of his vessel, nor offer to take out any of theparty.

  I shall pass over the next two or three days which we spent in theneighbourhood, each day taking the Granvilles and their friends on thewater; and so agreeable did we find that way of passing our time thatnone of us felt any inclination to go further. It was, if I rememberrightly, on the 24th of July that we went to Spithead to see those fourmagnificent ships, the "Queen," "Vengeance," "St. Vincent," and "Howe,"riding at anchor there. Though the morning was calm, a light breezesprung up just as we got under way, and we arrived in time to see herMajesty and Prince Albert come out of Portsmouth Harbour in their yachtsteamer, and cruise round the ships. We hove-to just to the southwardof the "Howe," so as to have a good view of all the ships in line, andit was a beautiful and enlivening sight, as they all manned yards andsaluted one after the other. From every ship, also, gay flags floated,in long lines from each masthead to the bowsprit and boom-ends, thebands played joyous tunes, and then arose those heart-stirring cheerssuch as British seamen alone can give. The ladies were delighted--indeed, who could not be so at the proud spectacle?

  On our way back to Cowes we were to land Miss Manners, who, mostunwillingly on her part, I believe, was obliged to return to herguardian. We accordingly hove-to off the pier, and all the party landedto conduct her to Mr Bosley's house. After taking a turn to the end ofthe pier, as we were beginning our journey along its almost interminablelength, we on a sudden found ourselves confronted by two mostincongruous personages walking arm-in-arm--Warwick Ribbons and MilesSandgate. The latter, the instant he saw us, withdrew his arm from thatof his companion, and in his usual unembarrassed manner, advancedtowards us, putting out his hand to O'Malley and me, and bowing to theladies. He, as usual, placed himself at the side of Emily, who hadHarcourt's arm, and certainly did his best to draw off her attentionfrom him. Little Ribbons tried, also, to come up and speak to her, buteither his courage or his impudence could not overcome the cold, low bowshe gave him. By the by, she had bestowed one of a similar nature onSandgate. After some time, however, he ranged up outside of Harcourt,for he had no shadow of excuse to speak to either Mrs Granville or herdaughters.

  "Ah, Miss Emily," he exclaimed in a smirking way, "you said you wouldprefer returning here in a steamer to a yacht, and now you've come inone after all."

  Emily did not know what to answer to his impudence, so Harcourt relievedher by answering--

  "Miss Manners selected a larger vessel, and had, also, the society ofher friends."

  "In that case, I might have claimed the honour for my vessel, which islarger than either," observed Mr Sandgate, with a tone in which Idetected a sneer lurking under a pretended laugh.

  "Ah, but then I'm an old friend," interposed the little man; "ain't I,Miss Emily?--known you ever since you was a little girl, though you donow and then pretend not to remember it."

  "Hang the fellow's impudence!" Harcourt was on the point of exclaiming,and perhaps might have said something of the sort, when his attentionwas called off by another actor in the drama. He was a corpulent,consequential-looking gentleman, with a vulgar expression ofcountenance, dressed in a broad-brimmed straw hat and shooting-coat,with trousers of a huge plaid pattern, and he had an umbrella under hisarm though there was not a cloud in the sky. He was, in fact, just theperson I might have supposed as the friend of little Ribbons, who, assoon as he espied him, with great glee ran on to meet him. Poor Emily,at the same time, pronounced the words, "My guardian, Mr Bosley," in atone which showed little pleasure at the _rencontre_, and instantlywithdrew her arm from Harcourt's. She was evidently anxious to preventa meeting between the parties, for she turned round to the MissGranvilles and begged them not to come any further, and then holding outher hand to Harcourt, thanked him for the pleasant excursions he hadafforded her. She was too late, however, for Mr Bosley advancing,bowed awkwardly to the Miss Granvilles, and then addressing Emily,said,--

  "Ay, little missie, a long holiday you've been taking with your friends;but I shan't let you play truant again, I can tell you. I've heard allabout your doings from my friend Warwick here--so come along, comealong;" and seizing her arm, without more ceremony he walked her off,while Mr Ribbons smirked and chuckled at the thoughts of having her nowin his power, as he fancied. Miles Sandgate, at the same time, bowingto the ladies, and nodding to us in a familiar way which verged uponcool impudence, followed their steps. We all felt excessively annoyedat the scene; but far more regretted that so charming a girl should bein the power of such a coarse barbarian as Mr Bosley appeared.

  On our passage back to Cowes, Miss Granville told me all she knew ofMiss Manners. She was the daughter of a Colonel Manners, who had goneout on some mining speculation or other, to one of the South AmericanStates, but it was believed that the ship which was conveying him toEngland had foundered, with all hands, at sea.

  He had left his daughter Emily under the charge of a Mr Eastway, amerchant of high standing, and a very gentlemanly man. Mr Eastway, whowas the only person cognisant of Colonel Manners' plans, died suddenly,and Mr Bosley, his partner, took charge of her and the little propertyinvested in his house for her support. She had been at the same schoolwith the Miss Granvilles, who there formed a friendship for her whichhad rather increased than abated after they grew up. This was theamount of the information I could extract from them. She nevercomplained of her guardian to them; but she was as well able as theywere to observe his excessive vulgarity, though there was probably underit a kindliness of feeling which in some degree compensated for it.Harcourt certainly did his best to conceal the feelings with which hecould not help acknowledging to himself she had inspired him, and wasmuch pleased at hearing the Granvilles say that they intended writing toher to propose joining her at Ryde on the day of the regatta.