Major Rockley had counted upon getting a hundred pounds from Barclay,
and the refusal annoyed him to so great an extent that he determined
upon having a sharp walk to calm himself. So setting off at a good rate
towards the main cliff to reach the downs beyond the town, he had not
gone far before he saw a graceful figure, in a white dress, with black
scarf and plain straw bonnet going in the same direction.
"Claire Denville as I'm a sinner!" he cried, his pale cheeks flushing,
and a curious light shining in his dark eyes.
"Yes, without doubt," he muttered. "Off for a walk to the downs. Lucky
accident. At last!"
He checked himself, walking slowly, so as not to overtake her until she
was well out of the town, and thinking that perhaps it would be as well
to keep back until she turned, and then meet her face to face.
"The jade! How she has kept me at a distance. Refused my notes, and
coquetted with me to make me more eager for the pursuit. The old man's
lessons have not been thrown away. I'm to approach in due form, I
suppose. Well, we shall see."
Claire went straight on, walking pretty quickly, and without turning her
head to right or left. The streets were left behind; the row of houses
facing the sea had come to an end; and she was getting amongst the
fishermen's cottages, while below the cliff the fishing boats were drawn
high up on the shingle, and long, brown filmy nets spread out to dry,
looking like square shadows cast by invisible sails, and mingled with
piles of tarred barrels, lobster baskets, and brown ropes, bladders and
corks.
Every here and there, on the railing at the cliff edge, hung oilskins to
soften in the sunshine, and in one place a giant appeared to be sitting
astride the rail, with nothing to be seen of him but a huge pair of
boots. Farther on fish were drying in the air, and farther still there
came up a filmy cloud of grey smoke from the shingle, along with a
pleasant smell of Stockholm tar, for Fisherman Dick was busy paying the
bottom of a boat turned upside down below the cliff.
These matters did not interest Major Rockley any more than the grey
gulls that wheeled overhead and descended, to drop with a querulous cry
upon a low spit of shingle where the sea was retiring fast.
For the fluttering white dress took up all his attention, and now that
they were well beyond the promenaders, he was about to hasten his
steps--too impatient to wait until she turned--when he uttered an
impatient oath, for Claire suddenly stopped by a cottage where a woman
was sitting knitting a coarse blue garment and nursing a little child.
It was all so sudden that it took the officer by surprise. The woman
jumped up hastily on being spoken to, and curtseyed, and they went in at
once, leaving the Major by the rails.
"Well, I can wait," he said, smiling and taking out his cigar-case. "I
can study the tarring of boats till her ladyship appears."
He slowly chose and lit a cigar, and then, going close to the edge of
the cliff, leaned upon the rails and gazed down at Fisherman Dick, who
was working away busily, dipping his brush in a little three-legged iron
pot, and carefully spreading the dark-brown odorous tar.
He was about forty feet below the Major, and for some time he went on
steadily with his work, but all at once he stopped short, and turned his
face upwards as if he felt that he was being watched; and as he did so
his straw hat fell off and he stood fixed by the Major's eyes as if
unable to move.
The sensation was mutual, for Major Rockley felt attracted by the dark,
Spanish-looking face, and the keen eyes so intently fixed upon his.
"Confound the fellow! how he stares," said the Major, at last, as he
seemed to wrench himself away, and turned his back.
As he did so, leaning against the rail, Dick Miggles drew a long breath,
stared now at his iron tar-kettle, and carried it to the fire of old
wreck-wood to re-heat it, as he stood by and thoughtfully scratched his
head.
He looked up for a moment, and saw that the Major's back was towards
him, and then bent over his kettle again, and began pushing half-burned
scraps of wood beneath, making the fire roar and the pitch heat quickly,
and he did not look up again till the Major had walked away, when he
began to brush again at the boat as if relieved, ending by giving one
leg a tremendous slap, and stopping short as if to think.
The Major had some time to wait, and he passed a good deal of it walking
up and down, as if watching a sail in the offing, till fortune favoured
him; so that as he was approaching the cottage again, Claire came out
quickly, and, seeing him, started and turned to walk in the other
direction, out on the downs and round by the London Road into the town.
She repented on the instant, and wished that she had faced him boldly
and passed on. But she was excited and confused by her visit, which had
to her a curious suggestion of wrong-doing in it; and she was leaving
the place, feeling agitated and guilty, when, seeing the Major, she had
turned sharply to walk on, trembling, and hoping that he had not seen
her. The hope died out on the instant, for she heard his steps, with
the soft _clink, clink_ of the rowels of his spurs; but he kept his
distance till they were well beyond the cottages, and then rapidly
closed up.
What would he think of her visit there? What would he say? were the
questions Claire asked herself as she walked rapidly on to reach the
stile that bounded the cornfield she would have to turn into and cross
to get into the London Road; and all the time, _clink, clink--clink,
clink_, those spurs rang on her ears, and came nearer and nearer.
The stile at last; and, trembling with eagerness, she was about to
cross, when the Major passed her quickly, leaped over, and turned
smilingly to face her with:
"Allow me, my dear Miss Denville. We meet at last." END OF VOLUME ONE.
Volume Two, Chapter I.