CHAPTER X

AT SEA

In the British army, notwithstanding the phases and vicissitudes

to which it is subjected, discipline still remains a paramount

consideration--the keystone of its whole fabric. Come what may,

the duty must be done. This is the great principle of action; and,

in obedience to its law, young officers, who combine pleasure

with military avocations, are continually on the move to and from

head-quarters, by road, railway, or steam-boat--here to-day, gone

to-morrow; proposing for themselves, indeed, many schemes of sport and

pastime, but disposed of, morally and physically, by the regimental

orders and the colonel's will.

Daisy, buried in Kildare, rising at day-break, going to bed at nine,

looking sharply after the preparation of Satanella, could not avoid

crossing the Channel for "muster," to re-cross it within twenty-four

hours, that he might take part in the great race on which his fortunes

now depended--to use his own expression, which was to "make him a man

or a mouse."

Thus it fell out that he found himself embarking at Holyhead amongst

a stream of passengers in the mid-day boat for Dublin, having caught

the mail-train at Chester by a series of intricate combinations, and

an implicit reliance on the veracity of Bradshaw. It rained a little,

of course--it always does rain at Holyhead--and was blowing fresh from

the south-west. The sea "danced," as the French say; ladies expressed

a fear "it would be very rough;" their maids prepared for the worst;

and a nautical-looking personage in a pea-coat with anchor buttons,

who disappeared at once, to be seen no more till he landed, pale and

dishevelled, in Kingstown harbour, opined first that "there was a

capful of wind," secondly, that "it was a ten-knot breeze, and would

hold till they made the land."

With loud throbs and pantings of her mighty heart, with a plunge,

a hiss, a shower of heavy spray-drops, the magnificent steamer got

under way, lurching and rolling but little, considering the weather,

yet enough to render landsmen somewhat unsteady on their legs, and to

exhibit the skill with which a curly-haired steward balanced himself,

basin in hand, on his errands of benevolence and consolation.

Two ladies, who had travelled together in a through carriage from

Euston Square, might have been seen to part company the moment they

set foot on board. One of these established herself on deck, with

a multiplicity of cushions, cloaks, and wrappings, to the manifest

admiration of a raw youth in drab trowsers and highlows, smoking

a damp cigar against the wind; while the other vanished into the

ladies'-cabin, there to lay her head on a horse-hair pillow, to sigh,

and moan, and shut her eyes, and long for land, perhaps to gulp, with

watering mouth, short sips of brandy and water, perhaps to find the

hateful mixture only made her worse.

What a situation for Blanche Douglas! How she loathed and despised the

lassitude she could not fight against, the sufferings she could not

keep down! How she envied Mrs. Lushington the open air, the sea-breeze,

the leaping, following waves, her brightened eyes, her freshened

cheeks, her keen enjoyment of a trip that according to different

organisations, seems either a purgatory or a paradise! Could she have

known how her livelier friend was engaged, she would have envied her

even more.

That lady, like many other delicate, fragile women of fair complexion,

was unassailable by sea-sickness, and never looked nor felt so well as

when on board ship in a stiff breeze.

Thoroughly mistress of the position, she yet thought it worth while,

as she was the only other passenger on deck, to favour the raw youth

before-mentioned with an occasional beam from her charms, and accorded

him a very gracious bow in acknowledgment of the awkwardness with

which he re-arranged a cushion that slid to leeward from under her

feet. She was even disappointed when the roll of a cross-sea, combined

with the effect of bad tobacco, necessitated his withdrawal from her

presence, to return no more, and was beginning to wonder if the captain

would never descend from his bridge between the paddle-boxes, when a

fresh, smiling face peeped up from the cabin-door, and Daisy, as little

affected by sea-sickness as herself, looking the picture of health and

spirits, staggered across the deck to take his place by her side.

"_You_ here, Mr. Walters!" said she. "Well, this is a surprise! Where

have you been? where are you going? and how did you get on board

without our seeing you?"

"I've been back for 'muster,'" answered Daisy; "I'm going to

Punchestown; and I didn't know you were here, because I stayed below to

have some luncheon in the cabin. How's Lushington? Have you brought him

with you, or are you quite alone, on your own hook?"

"What a question!" she laughed. "I suppose you think I'm old enough and

ugly enough to take care of myself! No, I'm _not_ absolutely 'on my own

hook,' as you call it. I've given Frank a holiday--goodness knows what

mischief he won't get into!--but I've got a companion, and a very nice

one, though perhaps not quite so nice as usual just at this moment."

"Then it's a lady," said Daisy, apparently but little interested in the

intelligence.

"A lady," she repeated, with a searching look in his face; "and a very

charming lady, too, though a bad sailor. Do you mean to say you can't

guess who it is?"

"Miss Douglas, for a pony!" was his answer; and the loud, frank

tones, the joyous smile, the utter absence of self-consciousness or

after-thought, seemed to afford Mrs. Lushington no slight gratification.

"You would win your pony," she replied gently. "Yes, Blanche and I are

going over to Ireland, partly to stay with some very pleasant people

near Dublin, partly--now, I don't want to make you conceited--partly

because she has set her heart on seeing you ride; and so have I."

Practice, no doubt, makes perfect. With this flattering acknowledgment,

she put just the right amount of interest into her glance, let it dwell

on him the right time, and averted it at the right moment.

"She's a deuced pretty woman!" thought Daisy. "How well she looks with

her hair blown all about her face, and her cloak gathered up under

her dear little chin!" He felt quite sorry that the Wicklow range was

already looming through its rain-charged atmosphere as they neared the

Irish coast.

"I should like to win," said he, after a pause, "particularly if

_you're_ looking on!"

"Don't say _me_," she murmured, adding in a louder and merrier voice,

"You cannot deny you're devoted to Blanche, and I dare say, if the

truth were known, she has made you a jacket and cap of her own colours,

worked with her own hands."

"I like her very much," he answered frankly. "It's partly on her

account I want to land this race. She's so fond of the mare, you know.

Not but what I've gone a cracker on it myself; and if it don't come

off, there'll be a general break-up! But I beg your pardon, I don't see

why that should interest _you_."

"_Don't_ you?" said she earnestly. "Then you're as blind as a bat.

Everything interests me that concerns people I like."

"Does that mean you like _me_?" asked Daisy with a saucy smile,

enhanced by a prolonged lurch of the steamer, and the blow of a wave on

her quarter, that drenched them both in a shower of spray.

She was silent while he wrung the wet from her cloak and hood, but

when he had wrapped her up once more, and readjusted her cushions, she

looked gravely in his face.

"It's an odd question, Mr. Walters," said she, "but I'm not afraid

to answer it, and I always speak the truth. Yes, I _do_ like you--on

Blanche's account. I think you've a pretty good head, and a very good

heart, with many other qualities I admire, all of which seem rather

thrown away."

Daisy was the least conceited of men, but who could resist such subtle

flattery as this? For a moment he wished the Emerald Isle sunk in

the sea, and no nearer termination to their voyage than the coast of

Anticosti, or Newfoundland. Alas! the Hill of Howth stood high on the

starboard quarter, the Wicklow mountains had risen in all their beauty

of colour and majesty of outline, grand, soft, seductive, robed in

russet and purple, here veiled in mist, there golden in sunshine, and

streaked at intervals with faint white lines of smoke.

"I'm glad you like me," said he simply. "But how do you mean you think

I'm thrown away?"

"By your leave!" growled a hoarse voice at his elbow, for at this

interesting juncture the conversation was interrupted by three or four

able seamen coiling a gigantic cable about the lady's feet. She was

forced to abandon her position, and leave to her companion's fancy the

nature of her reply. No doubt it would have been guarded, appropriate,

and to the point. Daisy had nothing for it, however, but to collect her

different effects, and strap them together in proper order for landing,

before he ran down to fetch certain articles of his own personal

property out of the cabin.

They were in smooth water now. Pale faces appeared from the different

recesses opening on the saloon. People who had been sick tried to look

as if they had been sleeping and the sleepers as if they had been

wide-awake all the way from Holyhead. A child who cried incessantly

during the passage, now ran laughing in and out of the steward's

pantry; and two sporting gentlemen from the West--one with a bright

blue coat, the other with a bright red face--finished their punch at a

gulp, without concluding a deal that had lasted through six tumblers,

for a certain "bay brown harse by Elvas--an illigant lepped wan," to

use the red-faced gentleman's own words, "an' the bouldest ever ye

see. Wait till I tell ye now. He's fit to carry the Lord-Liftinint

himself. Show him his fence, and howld him if ye can!" As the possible

purchaser for whom blue-coat acted, was a timid rider hunting in a

blind country, it seemed doubtful whether so resolute an animal was

likely to convey him as temperately as he might wish.

"Ah! it's the Captain," exclaimed both these sitters in a breath, as

Daisy slid behind them in search of his dressing-case and his tall hat.

"See now, Captain, will the mare win? Faith, she's clean-bred, I know

well, for I trained her dam meself, whan she cleaned out the whole

south of Ireland at Limerick for the Ladies' Plate!" exclaimed one.

"_You_ ride her, Captain," added the other. "It's herself that can

do't! They've a taste of temper, have all that breed; but you sit

still, an' ride aisy, Captain. Keep her back till they come to race and

loose her off then like shot from a gun. Whew! She'll come out in wan

blaze, and lave thim all behind, as I'd lave that tumbler there, more

by token it's been empty this ten minutes. Ye'll take a taste of punch

now, Captain, for good luck, and to drink to the black mare's chance?"

But Daisy excused himself, shaking hands repeatedly with his cordial

well-wishers ere he hurried on deck to disembark.

Moving listlessly and languidly into upper air, the figure of a lady

preceded him by a few steps. All he saw was the corner of a shawl, the

skirt of a dress, and a foot and ankle; but that foot and ankle could

only belong to Blanche Douglas, and in three bounds he was at her

side. A moment before, she had been pale, languid, dejected. Now, she

brightened up into all the flush and brilliancy of her usual beauty,

like a fair landscape when the sun shines out from behind a cloud. Mrs.

Lushington, standing opposite the companion-way, noted the change.

Daisy, in happy ignorance, expressed the pleasure, which no doubt he

felt, at a meeting with his handsome friend on the Irish shore.

No woman, probably, likes anything she _does_ like one whit the worse

because deprived of it by force of circumstances. The fox in the

fable that protested the grapes were sour, depend upon it, was not

a vixen. Satanella thoroughly appreciated her friend's kindness and

consideration, when Mrs. Lushington condoled with her on her past

sufferings, and rejoiced in her recovery, informing her at the same

time that Daisy was a capital travelling companion.

"He takes such care of one, my dear." (She spoke in a very audible

_aside_.) "So gentle and thoughtful; it's like having one's own maid. I

enjoyed the crossing thoroughly. Poor dear! I wish you could have been

on deck to enjoy it too!"

Done into plain English, the above really meant--"I have been having

great fun flirting with your admirer. He's very nice, and perhaps I

shall take him away from you some day when I have a chance."

By certain twinges that shot through every nerve and fibre, Blanche

Douglas knew she had let her foolish heart go out of her own keeping.

If she doubted previously whether or not she had fallen in love with

Daisy, she was sure of it now, while wrung by these pangs of an

unreasoning jealousy, that grudged his society for an hour, even to her

dearest friend.

There was but little time, however, for indulgence of the emotions.

Mrs. Lushington's footman, imposing, broad-breasted, and buttoned

to the chin, touched his hat as a signal that he had all _his_

paraphernalia ready for departure. Two ladies'-maids, limp and

draggled, trotted helplessly in his footsteps. The steward, who knew

everybody, had taken a respectful farewell of his most distinguished

passengers, the captain had done shouting from his perch behind the

funnel, and the raw youth in highlows, casting one despairing look at

Mrs. Lushington, had disappeared in the embrace of a voluminous matron

the moment he set foot on shore. There was nothing left but to say

good-bye.

Satanella's voice faltered, and her hand shook. How she had wasted the

preceding three hours that she might have spent on deck with Daisy! and

how _mean_ of Clara to take advantage of her friend's indisposition by

making up to him, as she did to every man she came near!

"I hadn't an idea you were going to cross with us," said she, in

mournful accents, while he took his leave. "Why didn't you tell me? And

when shall I see you again?"

"At Punchestown," replied Daisy cheerfully. "Wish me good luck!"

"Not till _then_!" said Miss Douglas. And having so said in Mrs.

Lushington's hearing, wished she had held her tongue.

Satanella: A Story of Punchestown · 第 10 / 30 章