new friend was acknowledging an uncommon attack of hunger, and they
were all merry in a sedate way to suit Miss Prince's ideas and
preferences. "I have been quite the drudge this winter over my
studies, and I feel young and idle again, now that I am making all
these pleasant plans." For Mr. Gerry had been talking enthusiastically
about some excursions he should arrange to certain charming places in
the region of Dunport. Both he and Miss Prince smiled when Nan
announced that she was young and idle, and a moment afterward the aunt
asked doubtfully about her niece's studies; she supposed that Anna was
done with schools.
Nan stopped her hand as it reached for the cup which Miss Prince had
just filled. "School; yes," she answered, somewhat bewildered; "but
you know I am studying medicine." This most important of all facts had
been so present to her own mind, even in the excitement and novelty of
her new surroundings, that she could not understand that her aunt was
still entirely ignorant of the great purpose of her life.
"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Prince, coldly, and quickly
explained to their somewhat amused and astonished companion, "My niece
has been the ward of a distinguished physician, and it is quite
natural she should have become interested in his pursuits."
"But I am really studying medicine; it is to be my profession,"
persisted Nan fearlessly, though she was sorry that she had spoiled
the harmony of the little company. "And my whole heart is in it, Aunt
Nancy."
"Nonsense, my dear," returned Miss Prince, who had recovered her
self-possession partially. "Your father gave promise of attaining
great eminence in a profession that was very proper for him, but I
thought better of Dr. Leslie than this. I cannot understand his
indulgence of such a silly notion."
George Gerry felt very uncomfortable. He had been a good deal shocked,
but he had a strong impulse to rush into the field as Nan's champion,
though it were quite against his conscience. She had been too long in
a humdrum country-town with no companion but an elderly medical man.
And after a little pause he made a trifling joke about their making
the best of the holiday, and the talk was changed to other subjects.
The tide was strong against our heroine, but she had been assailed
before, and had no idea of sorrowing yet over a lost cause. And for
once Miss Prince was in a hurry for Mr. Gerry to go away.
XVII
BY THE RIVER
As Nan went down the street next morning with Captain Parish, who had
been most prompt in keeping his appointment, they were met by Mr.
Gerry and a young girl who proved to be Captain Parish's niece and the
bearer of a cordial invitation. It would be just the evening for a
boat-party, and it was hoped that Miss Prince the younger would be
ready to go up the river at half-past five.
"Dear me, yes," said the captain; "your aunt will be pleased to have
you go, I'm sure. These idle young folks mustn't expect us to turn
back now, though, to have a visit from you. We have no end of business
on hand."
"If Miss Prince will remember that I was really on my way to see her,"
said Mary Parish pleasantly, while she looked with eager interest at
the stranger. The two girls were quite ready to be friends. "We will
just stop to tell your aunt, lest she should make some other plan for
you," she added, giving Nan a nod that was almost affectionate. "We
have hardly used the boats this year, it has been such a cold, late
spring, and we hope for a very good evening. George and I will call
for you," and George, who had been listening to a suggestion about the
ship business, smiled with pleasure as they separated.
"Nice young people," announced the captain, who was in a sympathetic
mood. "There has been some reason for thinking that they meant to take
up with each other for good and all. I don't know that either of them
could do better, though I like the girl best; that's natural; she's my
brother's daughter, and I was her guardian; she only came of age last
year. Her father and yours were boys together, younger than I am by a
dozen years, both gone before me too," sighed the captain, and quickly
changed so sad a subject by directing his companion's attention to one
of the old houses, and telling the story of it as they walked along.
Luckily they had the Highflyer all to themselves when they reached the
wharf, for the keeper had gone up into the town, and his wife, who had
set up a frugal housekeeping in the captain's cabin, sat in the shade
of the house with her sewing, the Monday's washing having been early
spread to the breeze in a corner of the main deck. She accepted
Captain Parish's explanations of his presence with equanimity, and
seemed surprised and amused at the young landswoman's curiosity and
eagerness, for a ship was as commonplace to herself as any farm-house
ashore.
"Dear me! you wouldn't know it was the same place," said the captain,
in the course of his enumeration of the ropes and yards and other
mysterious furnishings of the old craft. "With a good crew aboard,
this deck is as busy as a town every day. I don't know how I'm going
below until the keeper gets back. I suppose you don't want me to show
you the road to the main-to'gallant cross-trees; once I knew it as
well as anybody, and I could make quicker time now than most of the
youngsters," and the captain gave a knowing glance aloft, while at
this moment somebody crossed the gangway plank. It was a broken-down
old sailor, who was a familiar sight in Dunport.
"Mornin' to you, sir," and the master of the Highflyer, for the time
being, returned the salute with a mixture of dignity and friendliness.
"Goin' to take command?" chuckled the bent old fellow. "I'd like to
ship under ye; 'twouldn't be the first time," and he gave his hat an
unsettling shake with one hand as he looked at Nan for some sign of
recognition, which was quickly given.
"You've shipped under better masters than I. Any man who followed the
sea with Cap'n Jack Prince had more to teach than to learn. And here's
his grand-daughter before you, and does him credit too," said Captain
Walter. "Anna, you won't find many of your grandfather's men about the
old wharves, but here's one of the smartest that ever had hold of a
hawser."
"Goodsoe by name: I thank ye kindly, cap'n, but I ain't much account
nowadays," said the pleased old man, trying to get the captain's
startling announcement well settled in his mind. "Old Cap'n Jack
Prince's grand-darter? Why Miss Nancy's never been brought to change
her mind about nothing, has she?"
"It seems so," answered Nan's escort, laughing as if this were a good
joke; and Nan herself could not help smiling.
"I don't believe if the old gentleman can look down at ye he begrudges
the worst of his voyages nor the blackest night he ever spent on deck,
if you're going to have the spending of the money. Not but what Miss
Prince has treated me handsome right straight along," the old sailor
explained, while the inspector, thinking this not a safe subject to
continue, spoke suddenly about some fault of the galley; and after
this was discussed, the eyes of the two practiced men sought the
damaged mizzen mast, the rigging of which was hanging in snarled and
broken lengths. When Nan asked for some account of the accident, she
was told with great confidence that the Highflyer had been fouled, and
that it was the other vessel's fault; at which she was no wiser than
before, having known already that there had been a collision. There
seemed to be room enough on the high seas, she ventured to say, or
might the mischief have been done in port?
"It does seem as if you ought to know the sense of sea talk without
any learning, being Cap'n Jack Prince's grand-darter," said old
Goodsoe; for Captain Parish had removed himself to a little distance,
and was again investigating the condition of the ship's galley, which
one might suppose to have been neglected in some unforgivable way,
judging from his indignant grumble.
"Fouled, we say aboard ship, when two vessels lay near enough so that
they drift alongside. You can see what havick 't would make, for ten
to one they don't part again till they have tore each other all to
shoestrings; the yards will get locked together, and the same wind
that starts one craft starts both, and first one and then t'other
lifts with a wave, don't ye see, and the rigging's spoilt in a little
time. I've sometimes called it to mind when I've known o' married
couples that wasn't getting on. 'T is easy to drift alongside, but no
matter if they was bound to the same port they'd 'a' done best alone;"
and the old fellow shook his head solemnly, and was evidently
selecting one of his numerous stories for Nan's edification, when his
superior officer came bustling toward them.
"You might as well step down here about four o'clock; I shall have the
keys then. I may want you to hold a lantern for me; I'm going into the
lower hold and mean to do my work thoroughly, if I do it at all," to
which Goodsoe responded "ay, ay, sir," in most seamanlike fashion and
hobbled off.
"He'd have kept you there all day," whispered Captain Walter. "He
always loved to talk, and now he has nothing else to do; but we are
all friendly to Goodsoe. Some of us pay a little every year toward his
support, but he has always made himself very useful about the wharves
until this last year or two; he thought everything of your
grandfather, and I knew it would please him to speak to you. It seems
unfortunate that you should have grown up anywhere else than here; but
I hope you'll stay now?"
"It is not very likely," said Nan coldly. She wished that the captain
would go on with his stories of the former grandeur of Dunport, rather
than show any desire to talk about personal matters. She had been
little troubled at first by her aunt's evident disapproval the evening
before of her plans for the future, for she was so intent upon
carrying them out and certain that no one had any right to interfere.
Still it would have been better to have been violently opposed than to
have been treated like a child whose foolish whim would soon be
forgotten when anything better offered itself. Nan felt much older
than most girls of her years, and as if her decisions were quite as
much to be respected as her aunt's. She had dealt already with graver
questions than most persons, and her responsibilities had by no means
been light ones. She felt sometimes as if she were separated by half a
lifetime from the narrow limits of school life. Yet there was an
uncommon childlikeness about her which not only misled these new
friends, but many others who had known her longer. And when these
listened to accounts of her devotion to her present studies and her
marked proficiency, they shook their wise heads smilingly, as if they
knew that the girl was innocent of certain proper and insurmountable
obstacles farther on.
The air was fresh, and it was so pleasant on the wharf that the
captain paced to and fro several times, while he pointed out different
objects of interest along the harbor-side, and tapped the rusty anchor
and the hawsers with his walking-stick as he went by. He had made some
very pointed statements to the keeper's wife about the propriety of
opening the hatches on such a morning as that, which she had received
without comment, and wished her guests good-day with provoking
equanimity. The captain did not like to have his authority ignored,
but mentioned placidly that he supposed every idler along shore had
been giving advice; though he wondered what Nan's grandfather and old
Captain Peterbeck would have said if any one had told them this would
be the only square-rigged vessel in Dunport harbor for weeks at a
time.
"Dear me!" he exclaimed again presently, "there's young Gerry hard at
work!" and he directed his companion's attention to one of the upper
windows of the buildings whose fronts had two stories on the main
street, while there were five or six on the rear, which faced the
river. Nan could see the diligent young man and thought it hard that
any one must be drudging within doors that beautiful morning.
"He has always been a great favorite of your aunt's," said Captain
Parish, confidentially, after the law student had pretended to
suddenly catch sight of the saunterers, and waved a greeting which the
captain exultantly returned. "We have always thought that she was
likely to make him her heir. She was very fond of his father, you see,
and some trouble came between them. Nobody ever knew, because if
anybody ever had wit enough to keep her own counsel 'twas Nancy
Prince. I know as much about her affairs as anybody, and what I say to
you is between ourselves. I know just how far to sail with her and
when to stop, if I don't want to get wrecked on a lee shore. Your aunt
has known how to take care of what she had come to her, and I've done
the best I could to help her; it's a very handsome property,--very
handsome indeed. She helped George Gerry to get his education, and
then he had some little money left him by his father's brother,--no
great amount, but enough to give him a start; he's a very smart,
upright fellow, and I am glad for whatever Nancy did for him; but it
didn't seem fair that he should be stepping into your rights. But I
never have dared to speak up for you since one day--she wouldn't hear
a word about it, that's all I have to remark," the captain concluded
in a hurry, for wisdom's sake, though he longed to say more. It seemed
outrageous to him at this moment that the girl at his side should have
been left among strangers, and he was thankful that she seemed at last
to have a good chance of making sure of her rightful possessions.
"But I haven't needed anything," she said, giving Captain Walter a
grateful glance for his championship. "And Mr. Gerry is very kind and
attentive to my aunt, so I am glad she has been generous to him. He
seems a fine fellow, as you say," and Nan thought suddenly that it was
very hard for him to have had her appear on the scene by way of rival,
if he had been led to suppose that he was her aunt's heir. There were
so many new things to think of, that Nan had a bewildering sense of
being a stranger and a foreigner in this curiously self-centred
Dunport, and a most disturbing element to its peace of mind. She
wondered if, since she had not grown up here, it would not have been
better to have stayed away altogether. Her own life had always been
quite unvexed by any sort of social complications, and she thought how
good it would be to leave this talkative and staring little world and
go back to Oldfields and its familiar interests and associations. But
Dunport was a dear old place, and the warm-hearted captain a most
entertaining guide, and by the time their walk was over, the day
seemed a most prosperous and entertaining one. Aunt Nancy appeared to
be much pleased with the plan for the afternoon, and announced that
she had asked some of the young people to come to drink tea the next
evening, while she greeted Nan so kindly that the home-coming was
particularly pleasant. As for the captain, he was unmistakably happy,
and went off down the street with a gentle, rolling gait, and a smile
upon his face that fairly matched the June weather, though he was more
than an hour late for the little refreshment with which he and certain
dignified associates commonly provided themselves at eleven o'clock in
the forenoon. Life was as regular ashore as on board ship with these
idle mariners of high degree. There was no definite business among
them except that of occasionally settling an estate, and the forming
of decided opinions upon important questions of the past and future.
The shadows had begun to grow long when the merry company of young
people went up river with the tide, and Nan thought she had seldom
known such a pleasure away from her own home. She begged for the
oars, and kept stroke with George Gerry, pulling so well that they
quickly passed the other boat. Mary Parish and the friend who made the
fourth of that division of the party sat in the stern and steered with
fine dexterity, and the two boats kept near each other, so that Nan
soon lost all feeling of strangeness, and shared in the good
comradeship to which she had been willingly admitted. It was some time
since she had been on the water before, and she thought more than once
of her paddling about the river in her childhood, and even regaled the
company once with a most amusing mishap, at the remembrance of which
she had been forced to laugh outright. The river was broad and brimful
of water; it seemed high tide already, and the boats pulled easily.
The fields sloped down to the river-banks, shaded with elms and parted
by hedgerows like a bit of English country. The freshest bloom of the
June greenness was in every blade of grass and every leaf. The birds
were beginning to sing the long day to a close, and the lowing of
cattle echoed from the pastures again and again across the water;
while the country boats were going home from the town, sometimes with
a crew of women, who seemed to have made this their regular conveyance
instead of following the more roundabout highways ashore. Some of
these navigators rowed with a cross-handed stroke that jerked their
boats along in a droll fashion, and some were propelled by one groping
oar, the sculler standing at the stern as if he were trying to push
his craft out of water altogether and take to the air, toward which
the lifted bow pointed. And in one of the river reaches half a mile
ahead, two heavy packet boats, with high-peaked lateen sails, like a
great bird's single wing, were making all the speed they could toward
port before the tide should begin to fall two hours later. The young
guest of the party was very happy; she had spent so many of her
childish days out of doors that a return to such pleasures always
filled her with strange delight. The color was bright in her cheeks,
and her half-forgotten girlishness came back in the place of the
gravity and dignity that had brought of late a sedate young
womanliness to her manner. The two new friends in the stern of the
boat were greatly attracted to her, and merry laughter rang out now
and then. Nan was so brave and handsome, so willing to be pleased, and
so grateful to them for this little festivity, that they quickly
became interested in each other, as girls will. The commander thought
himself a fortunate fellow, and took every chance of turning his head
to catch a glimpse of our heroine, though he always had a good excuse
of taking his bearings or inspecting for himself some object afloat or
ashore which one of the boat's company had pointed out. And Nan must
be told the names of the distant hills which stood out clear in the
afternoon light, and to what towns up river the packet boats were
bound, and so the time seemed short before the light dory was run in
among the coarse river grass and pulled up higher than seemed
necessary upon the shore.
Their companions had not chosen so fleet a craft, and were five
instead of four at any rate, but they were welcomed somewhat
derisively, and all chattered together in a little crowd for a few
minutes before they started for a bit of woodland which overhung the
river on a high point. The wind rustled the oak leaves and roughened
the surface of the water, which spread out into a wide inland bay. The
clouds began to gather in the west and to take on wonderful colors, as
if such a day must be ended with a grand ceremony, and the sun go down
through banners and gay parades of all the forces of the sky. Nan had
watched such sunsets from her favorite playground at the farm, and
somehow the memory of those days touched her heart more tenderly than
they had ever done before, and she wished for a moment that she could
get away from the noisy little flock who were busy getting the supper
ready, though they said eagerly what a beautiful evening it would be
to go back to town, and that they must go far up the river first to
meet the moonlight.
In a few minutes Nan heard some one say that water must be brought
from a farm-house not far away, and quickly insisted that she should
make one of the messengers, and after much discussion and
remonstrance, she and young Gerry found themselves crossing the open
field together. The girl had left her hat swinging from one of the low
oak branches; she wondered why Mary Parish had looked at her first as
if she were very fond of her, and then almost appealingly, until the
remembrance of Captain Walter's bit of gossip came to mind too late to
be acted upon. Nan felt a sudden sympathy, and was sorry she had not
thought to share with this favorite among her new friends, the
companion whom she had joined so carelessly. George Gerry had some
very attractive ways. He did not trouble Nan with unnecessary
attentions, as some young men had, and she told herself again, how
much she liked him. They walked fast, with free, light steps, and
talked as they went in a way that was very pleasant to both of them.
Nan was wise to a marvel, the good fellow told himself, and yet such
an amusing person. He did not know when he had liked anybody so much;
he was very glad to stand well in the sight of these sweet, clear
eyes, and could not help telling their owner some of the things that
lay very near his heart. He had wished to get away from Dunport; he
had not room there; everybody knew him as well as they knew the
courthouse; he somehow wanted to get to deeper water, and out of his
depth, and then swim for it with the rest. And Nan listened with deep
sympathy, for she also had felt that a great engine of strength and
ambition was at work with her in her plans and studies.
She waited until he should have finished his confidence, to say a word
from her own experience, but just then they reached the farm-house and
stood together at the low door. There was a meagre show of flowers in
the little garden, which the dripping eaves had beaten and troubled in
the late rains, and one rosebush was loosely caught to the clapboards
here and there.
There did not seem to be anybody in the kitchen, into which they could
look through the open doorway, though they could hear steps and voices
from some part of the house beyond it; and it was not until they had
knocked again loudly that a woman came to answer them, looking worried
and pale.
"I never was so glad to see folks, though I don't know who you be,"
she said hurriedly. "I believe I shall have to ask you to go for help.
My man's got hurt; he managed to get home, but he's broke his
shoulder, or any ways 'tis out o' place. He was to the pasture, and
we've got some young cattle, and somehow or 'nother one he'd caught
and was meaning to lead home give a jump, and John lost his balance;
he says he can't see how 't should 'a' happened, but over he went and
got jammed against a rock before he could let go o' the rope he'd put
round the critter's neck. He's in dreadful pain so 't I couldn't leave
him, and there's nobody but me an' the baby. You'll have to go to the
next house and ask them to send; Doctor Bent's always attended of us."
"Let me see him," said Nan with decision. "Wait a minute, Mr. Gerry,
or perhaps you had better come in too," and she led the way, while the
surprised young man and the mistress of the house followed her. The
patient was a strong young fellow, who sat on the edge of the bed in
the little kitchen-bedroom, pale as ashes, and holding one elbow with
a look of complete misery, though he stopped his groans as the
strangers came in.
"Lord bless you, young man! don't wait here," he said; "tell the
doctor it may only be out o' place, but I feel as if 'twas broke."
But Nan had taken a pair of scissors from the high mantelpiece and was
making a cut in the coarse, white shirt, which was already torn and
stained by its contact with the ground, and with quick fingers and a
look of deep interest made herself sure what had happened, when she
stood still for a minute and seemed a little anxious, and all at once
entirely determined. "Just lie down on the floor a minute," she said,
and the patient with some exclamations, but no objections, obeyed.
Nan pushed the spectators into the doorway of the kitchen, and quickly
stooped and unbuttoned her right boot, and then planted her foot on
the damaged shoulder and caught up the hand and gave a quick pull, the
secret of which nobody understood; but there was an unpleasant cluck
as the bone went back into its socket, and a yell from the sufferer,
who scrambled to his feet.