"Don't--pray don't look so agitated, dear, mother," whispered Julia, as
they left the cabin one morning, after an announcement by the captain
that before many hours had passed, a new phase in the long voyage would
take place, for they would see land.
The news spread like lightning among the passengers, and was received
with eager delight by those who had been cooped up gazing at sea and sky
for months.
"I will try and be calm," said Mrs Hallam; "but it seems at times more
than I can bear. Think, Julie; only a few more hours and we shall see
him again."
Julia's fair young face contracted, and there was a strange fluttering
about her heart. Mingled feelings troubled her. She was angry with
herself that she did not share her mother's joy; and, strive how she
would, _she_ could not help feeling regret that the voyage was so near
its end, and that they were to make a fresh plunge in life.
She had trembled and shrunk from the journey when it was first decided
upon. There was so much of the unknown to encounter, and she had been
so happy and contented in the simple home, that, unlike most young
people of her age, novelty possessed for her few charms. But the voyage
had proved, after the first few dreary days, one long succession of
pleasant hours. Every one had been so kind--Mrs Otway almost loving,
Captain Otway frank and manly, and--she coloured slightly as she thought
of it all--Lieutenant Eaton so gentle and attentive to her every wish.
Yes, for months he had been ready to hurry to her side, to wait upon
her, to read aloud, turn over her music, and join in the duets with an
agreeable, manly voice. Yes, it had all been very, very pleasant; the
only dark spots in the sunshine, the only clouds being that Sir Gordon
had grown more testy and ready to say harsh things, and Mr Bayle had
become strangely cold and distant--so changed. He who had been always
so warm and frank looked at her gravely; the old playful manner had
completely gone, and the change troubled her young breast sorely.
That morning, when Mrs Hallam took her old place by the bulwarks to
gaze away into the distance, out of which the land she sought was to
rise, Julia came to a determination, and, waiting her opportunity, she
watched till Bayle had taken his place where he sat and read, and Sir
Gordon was in his usual seat.
For, on ship-board, the nature of the vessel's management seems to
communicate itself to the passengers. As they have special berths, so
do they adopt special seats at the cabin table, and, when on deck, go by
custom to regular places after their morning walk beneath the
breeze-filled sails.
Sir Gordon was in his seat, and Tom Porter on his way with a cigar and
light, when Julia intercepted him, took them from him, and walked up to
Sir Gordon.
"Hullo!" he said shortly. "You?"
"Yes! I've brought you your cigar and light."
She held them out, and the old man took them, and lit the cheroot with
all the careful dallying of an old smoker.
"Thankye," he said shortly; but Julia did not leave him, only stood
looking down at the wrinkles of age and annoyance in the well-bred face.
"Well!" he said, "what are you waiting for, my child?" His voice was a
little softer as the wreaths of smoke rose in the soft southern air.
"I want to talk to you," she said, looking at him wistfully.
"Sit down, then. Ah, there's no chair, and--where is our gay young
officer to fetch one?"
Julia did not answer, but gazed up in his face as she seated herself
upon the deck by his low lounge chair.
"Why do you speak to me so unkindly?" she said, with a naive innocency
of manner that made the old man wince and cease smoking.
"Unkindly?" he said at last.
"Yes," said Julia. "You have been so different. You are not speaking
to me now as you used."
The old man frowned, looked from the upturned face at his side to where
Mrs Hallam was gazing out to sea, and back again.
"Because I'm growing old and am chilly, and pettish, and jealous, my
dear," he said at last warmly. "Julia!" he cried searchingly, "tell me;
do you love this Lieutenant Eaton?"
The girl's face grew crimson, and her eyes flashed a look of resentment
as she rose quickly to her feet.
"No, no! don't go, my dear," he cried; but it was too late even if the
words could have stayed her. Julia was walking swiftly away, and
Lieutenant Eaton, who was coming back from a morning parade of the
company, increased his pace on seeing Julia, but she turned aside and
walked towards Bayle.
"Yes, but if I had not just spoken to her," muttered Sir Gordon, "she
would have stopped. Well, it is only natural, and I had no business to
speak--no business to trouble myself about her. Tom Porter says the old
maid is bitterly mad about it, and declares the poor child is going to
wreck her life as her mother did. The old cat! How dare she think such
a thing! The impudence! Wishes the ship may be wrecked first and that
we may all be drowned. Ah! you're there, are you, sir?"
"Yes, Sir Gordon. Another cheroot?"
"Can't you see I haven't smoked this, fool? Here, give me a light!"
Tom Porter's mahogany face did not change as he produced a piece of
tinder and held it for his testy master to ignite his cigar.
"Thank ye, Tom," said Sir Gordon, changing his tone. "Here, don't go
away. What did that woman say?"
"Thisbe, Sir Gordon?"
"Yes; you know whom I mean. About Miss Hallam?"
"Wished we might all be wrecked and drowned before it came off."
"Before what came off?"
"A wedding with Lieutenant Eaton, Sir Gordon."
"Why?"
"Principally because she says he's so handsome, Sir Gordon. She hates
handsome men."
"Humph! That's why she's so fond of you, Tom Porter."
"Which she ain't, Sir Gordon," said Tom Porter dolefully.
"You had been talking about weddings then?"
"Well, just a little, Sir Gordon," said Tom Porter, not a muscle of
whose countenance moved. "I just said how nice it was to see two young
folks so fond of each other."
"As whom?"
"As the Lufftenant and Miss Jooly, Sir Gordon; and that it would be just
as nice for two middle-aged folks who had kept it all in store."
"And is she going to marry you, then, when we get to port?"
"No: Sir Gordon; it's all over. She ain't the marrying sort."
"Humph! Marry a black woman, then, to spite her, and then ask her to
come and see your wife."
"No, Sir Gordon, beggin' your pardon, sir; I've been in the wrong, when
I ought to have took you for an example. It's all over, and I'm settled
down thorough. I have seen but one woman as I thought I'd like to
splice."
"And that was Mrs Hallam's old maid?"
"Yes, Sir Gordon."
"Why? She isn't handsome."
"Not outside, Sir Gordon; and I don't rightly know why I took to her,
unless it was that she seemed so right down like--such a
stick-to-you-through-fair-weather-and-foul sort of woman. But it's all
over now, Sir Gordon. Things won't turn out as one likes, and it's of
no use to try."
"You're right, Tom Porter; you're a better philosopher than your master.
There: that will do. When shall we see land?"
"Morrow morning, Sir Gordon. Daybreak; not afore. Any orders 'bout the
shore?"
"Orders? What are we to do when we get there? Tom Porter, if you could
tell me what we are to do, I'd give you a hundred pounds. There, give
me a light, my cheroot's out again!"