"It doesn't matter now, sir. We've lived aboard here for a week, and
to-night's the end of our honeymooning. If 'tis no liberty sir,
Annie's wishful that you should join us."
Somehow, the invitation, coming through this mysterious atmosphere,
seemed at once natural and happy. The fiddle began again as I
stepped away from the fence and went down to get my boat out.
In three minutes I was afloat, and a stroke or two brought me to the
ship's ladder. Annie and Tubal Cain stood at the top to welcome me.
But if I had felt no incongruity in paying this respectful visit to
my ex-cook and her lover, I own that her appearance made me stare.
For, if you please, she was dressed out like a lady, in a gown of
pale blue satin trimmed with swansdown--a low-necked gown, too,
though she had flung a white shawl over her shoulders. Imagine this
and the flood of blue light around us, and you will hardly wonder
that, half-way up the ladder, I paused to take breath. Tubal Cain
was dressed as usual, and tucking his fiddle under his arm, led me up
to shake hands with his bride as if she were a queen. I cannot say
if she blushed. Certainly she received me with dignity: and then,
inverting a bucket that lay on the deck, seated herself; while Tubal
Cain and I sat down on the deck facing her, with our backs against
the bulwarks.
"It's just this, sir," explained the bridegroom, laying his fiddle
across his lap, and speaking as if in answer to a question: "it's
just this:--by trade you know me for a watchmaker, and for a Plymouth
Brother by conviction. All the week I'm bending over a counter, and
every Sabbath-day I speak in prayer-meeting what I hold, that life's
a dull pilgrimage to a better world. If you ask me, sir, to-night, I
ought to say the same. But a man may break out for once; and when so
well as on his honeymoon? For a week I've been a free heathen: for a
week I've been hiding here, living with the woman I love in the open
air; and night after night for a week Annie here has clothed herself
like a woman of fashion. Oh, my God! it has been a beautiful time--a
happy beautiful time that ends to-night!"
He set down the fiddle, crooked up a knee and clasped his hands round
it, looking at Annie.
"Annie, girl, what is it that we believe till to-morrow morning?
You believe--eh?--that 'tis a rare world, full of delights, and with
no ugliness in it?"
Annie nodded.
"And you love every soul--the painted woman in the streets no less
than your own mother?"
Annie nodded again. "I'd nurse 'em both if they were sick," she
said.
"One like the other?"
"And there's nothing shames you?" Here he rose and took her hand.
"You wouldn't blush to kiss me before master here?"
"Why should I?" She gave him a sober kiss, and let her hand rest in
his.
I looked at her. She was just as quiet as in the old days when she
used to lay my table. It was like gazing at a play.
I should be ashamed to repeat the nonsense that Tubal Cain thereupon
began to talk; for it was mere midsummer madness. But I smoked four
pipes contentedly while the sound of his voice continued, and am
convinced that he never performed so well at prayer-meeting. Down at
the town I heard the church-clock striking midnight, and then one
o'clock; and was only aroused when the youth started up and grasped
his fiddle.
"And now, sir, if you would consent to one thing, 'twould make us
very happy. You can't play the violin, worse luck; but you might
take a step or two round the deck with Annie, if I strike up a
waltz-tune for you to move to."
It was ridiculous, but as he began to play I moved up to Annie, put
my arm around her, and we began to glide round and round on the deck.
Her face was turned away from mine, and looked over my shoulder; if
our eyes had met, I am convinced I must have laughed or wept. It was
half farce, half deadly earnest, and for me as near to hysterics as a
sane man can go. Tubal Cain, that inspired young Plymouth Brother,
was solemn as a judge. As for Annie, I would give a considerable
amount, at this moment, to know what she thought of it. But she
stepped very lightly and easily, and I am not sure I ever enjoyed a
waltz so much. The blue light--that bewitching, intoxicating blue
light--paled on us as we danced. The grey conquered it, and I felt
that when we looked at each other the whole absurdity would strike
us, and I should never be able to face these lovers again without a
furious blush. As the day crept on, I stole a glance at Tubal Cain.
He was scraping away desperately--_with his eyes shut_. For us the
dance had become weariness, but we went on and on. We were afraid to
halt.
Suddenly a string of the violin snapped. We stopped, and I saw Tubal
Cain's hand pointing eastward. A golden ripple came dancing down the
creek, and, at the head of the combe beyond, the sun's edge was
mounting.
"Morning!" said the bridegroom.
"It's all done," said Annie, holding out a hand to me, without
looking up. "And thank you, sir."
"We danced through the grey," I answered; and that was all I could
find to say, as I stepped towards the ladder.
Half an hour later as I looked out of the window before getting into bed
I saw in the sunlight a boat moving down the creek towards the town.
Tubal Cain was rowing, and Annie sat in the stern. She had changed
her gown.
They have been just an ordinary couple ever since, and attend their
chapel regularly. Sometimes Annie comes over to make me an omelet;
and, as a matter of fact, she is now in the kitchen. But not a word
has ever been spoken between us about her honeymoon.