"Oh, sometimes, for the sake of doing it, because I had a right to. But
this is real."
"When you come back from England, or France, or wherever you are going,
perhaps you will carry a cane." He seemed startled, but only for a
moment.
"What makes you think I am going over?"
"Bobby told us--in confidence. When?"
He seemed relieved. "If Bobby told you that lets me out. I was afraid I
might have dropped it somehow. I don't know when, but soon, I think."
"Jack," said Eve suddenly--it was the first time I had heard her call
Ogilvie Jack--"Jack, we will have a clambake for a farewell. I hope they
will give you some days' notice of your going."
"Thank you," he returned, smiling. "It is more likely to be hours'
notice. But I will come to your clambake if I can."
"And can you bring," Eve asked, "your yeogirl? I invite her, and ask you
to deliver the invitation."
He laughed suddenly. "My yeogirl--did you hear she was a joke? She is a
real girl, but I don't know her, and I couldn't bring her over here,--or
anywhere. No, I'm afraid you will have to get somebody else to deliver
the invitation. How would Mr. Wales do?--or Bobby?"
"Jimmy has a wife, my cousin."
"Yes, I know. But Bobby--he hasn't any."
"Poor Bobby would be in greater trouble than ever. Besides, he wouldn't
do it. Bobby has developed a nasty temper lately. I wanted the yeogirl
for you, and if you don't want her--I am sorry Olivia has gone."
"Olivia would never do for me," he said, shaking his head. "I guess I
shall have to devote myself to the clams--or to Elizabeth."
"You might do worse, young man," I said severely.
"I might," he assented. "In fact I have done worse."
I did not know whether he referred to the clams or to Elizabeth; but it
was true in either case. And he said nothing more, and thereupon a
silence fell, which is no misfortune and no embarrassment when the
people are suited to it. I had been seeing Pukkie's yacht for some time,
and she had just disappeared behind Old Goodwin's pier. And she had
three people in her, when I supposed she carried only Elizabeth and
Pukkie. I mentioned it to Eve, who was as much surprised as I; and we
watched the pier and the shore.
And presently we saw coming along the shore, where the little waves were
breaking, three figures. The figures were those of Elizabeth and
Pukkie--of those two I was certain--and the third looked like Bobby. I
had to look several times before I was sure of him. He was walking
beside Elizabeth, and his attitude betokened a strange mixture of
devotion and distaste. As I looked again I saw that Elizabeth and Pukkie
had been recently wet--very wet--and they were not yet dry. Bobby was
not wet. The inference was obvious: Elizabeth and Pukkie had been
overboard, and Bobby had not. But where had Bobby come from? Eve and I
hurried down the steep path, and met them at its foot.
Elizabeth raised her eyes to me, and I saw two deep pools under a summer
sun, and all manner of colors played over them, concealing the depths.
Then for an instant the lights were quenched that concealed the depths,
and her eyes became as two dark wells with yet a sort of light
illumining the darkness, and there I saw content, but not
satisfaction--if those two can be reconciled. It was for but an instant,
and then the lights came back, and her eyes danced, and she laughed at
me.
"Are you wondering," she asked, "what has happened to us, and what Bobby
Leverett is doing here?"
"It is easy to guess," I answered, "that you and Pukkie have been
overboard, although why you should go in swimming in all your clothes is
another matter. But I must confess to some wonder about that matter
standing fidgeting there." And I pointed an accusing finger at Bobby.
Bobby was ill at ease, and struggling between the constraint that was
upon him and a wish to tell his tale.
"Well, you see, Adam," he began, "I--we were cruising--"
"Who," I asked, interrupting, "is 'we'?"
"Bobby," said Elizabeth quietly, "you'd better let me tell it first. Puk
and I," she continued, addressing Eve and me, "were sailing along too
calmly, and he wanted to put up the gafftopsail. So he got it out, and
ran with it, and he caught his foot in some of the superfluous ropes and
blocks, and went overboard--topsail and all. I was afraid he might be
tangled in the sail, so I let all the halliards go on the run, and I
went after him. I got him, and saved the sail, and there was a boat from
the Rattlesnake, with Bobby. He helped us on board again, and insisted
upon coming with us."
Bobby again opened his mouth to speak.
"One moment, Bobby," I said. "Tell me, Elizabeth, did the Rattlesnake
spring so suddenly?"
She smiled and glanced at Bobby. "Oh, we had seen her before. That was
why Puk was wanting the topsail. He wanted to see if we could beat her."
"Oh," said I, and I looked at Bobby, who squirmed as a caterpillar on a
stick.
"We happened to be near," he said. He spoke calmly enough, but I saw
that he was very uncomfortable. "I thought I ought to come, for Pukkie
was very wet, and I wanted to be sure he was all right. Miss Radnor had
rather a nasty time getting him clear of that sail."
"Bobby!" said Elizabeth warningly. And suddenly she smiled as if she was
much amused at something, perhaps at Bobby.
"Bobby," said Eve softly, "it was very good of you. Did Elizabeth save
Pukkie's life?"
"I'm not sure," Bobby answered slowly, "that Pukkie's life was in
danger, but I'm not sure that it was not."
Eve clasped Pukkie to her, wet as he was. I would have done the same.
"Bobby," Eve said again, looking up at him, "was there no one else that
was very wet? I'm ashamed of you." She had spoken low.
"Er--you see," Bobby answered wriggling, "I knew very well that
Eliz--Miss Radnor would be all right. She is--er--very competent."
And Elizabeth laughed at him and dropped a curtsey. "Thank you," she
said.
Bobby was struggling with his desire to smile and with his dignity.
"I've got to get back somehow," he said. "Hello, there's Ogilvie."
Ogilvie had been standing in plain sight at the top of the bluff. "He
can take me--that is, if you can spare him." He beckoned to him, and
Ogilvie came down. "You'll have to take me out, Jack."
Ogilvie grinned and saluted, and they started off together. But they had
gone only a few steps when Bobby turned.
"I almost forgot to say good-bye."
He smiled unhappily, and was turning back, but Elizabeth ran to him and
held out her hand.
"You can be on your dignity if you like, Bobby," she whispered, not so
low but that I heard it, "but I'm not going to be. Good-bye, and thank
you."
And Bobby had taken the hand that she held out. He held it for a long
time, but said nothing that I could hear, but only looked. And he
relinquished her hand--actually flung it from him--and strode away after
Ogilvie. And Elizabeth came back to us quietly, but her eyes shone and
she was smiling.
"Now," she said, "Puk and I will get on some dry clothes. You may as
well rub him, Eve."
It must have been a narrower escape than Elizabeth would admit. As we
ascended the steep path, I thought upon the manner of journey that would
have been if there had been no escape at all. Pukkie, my dearly beloved
son! And I reached forward and hugged him, and for the rest of the way
my arm lay along his shoulders.
That night we heard firing from the fort, perhaps a dozen shots. We hear
that firing every few nights. Eve and I looked out--we were just going
to bed--and saw the flashes against the sky above the trees, and heard
the sound as if cannon balls were being dropped on the floor over our
heads. Eve wondered what it was, and I told her it was probably some tug
trying to go in or out of the harbor to the east of us at a forbidden
time.
"Oh," she said, relieved, "I thought that it might be submarines--or
fireworks."