PARTY AT MRS. EDMONSTONE'S--INTRODUCTION TO COLONEL ARMYTAGE--VISIT TO
THE "OSTERLEY"--THE "THISBE" ORDERED TO BOMBAY.
Morton had been anticipating a delightful day: he was to have called,
with Glover, on Mrs Edmonstone, and he hoped to have met Miss Armytage,
who was staying with her; but his first thought on waking was the
disagreeable circumstance which had occurred at the conclusion of the
previous evening, and the still more disagreeable events to which it
would in all probability give rise.
He was well aware how much the line of conduct he intended to pursue
would be criticised, how the story would be garbled and misrepresented,
and how, in all probability, he would be accused of showing the white
feather. Under ordinary circumstances he would have been very
indifferent to what was said of him: he could well afford to allow idle
tongues to prattle forth slander about him till weary of the occupation,
but he could not bear to fancy that Mrs Edmonstone, or rather her
friend, should hear anything to his disadvantage which he might not be
present to refute; still, happily, he had not forgotten Bertha Eswick's
remark, impressed on his mind in childhood--"Do what is right, lad, and
never mind what men say of thee."
The temptation of meeting Miss Armytage was at last too strong to be
resisted, and with his captain and brother officers he repaired in the
evening to the house of Mrs Edmonstone. Their hostess received them in
the most friendly manner, and introduced them to several of her friends,
so that they at once felt themselves at home. Morton's eyes ranged
round the room in search of Miss Armytage; she was nowhere to be seen.
He longed to ask Mrs Edmonstone where she was, but he was withheld by a
feeling of bashfulness very unusual with him. Numberless fears entered
his mind. Was she prevented by illness from appearing--had her father
heard who he was, and kept her away that she might not meet him; or had
Colonel Armytage been suddenly called away to another part of the
country, and had his daughter accompanied him?
That the latter suspicion was correct he was convinced by overhearing
the disjointed remarks of some people near him: "Great loss to our
society--quite unexpected--very charming woman--sweet girl, the
daughter. About him--two opinions--proud--"
The speakers moved on. Morton was convinced that the sweet girl must
refer to Miss Armytage--surely to no one else. But then came the
thought that he was not to see her that evening--perhaps he might never
again meet her. The pain and disappointment he felt opened his eyes
more rapidly than anything else would have done to his own feelings. As
to enjoying the evening, that was out of the question. Still it would
be a satisfaction to hear something about her. He would inquire where
Colonel Armytage had gone. He was looking round for Mrs Edmonstone, as
he felt that he could ask her better than any one else, when his heart
gave an unwonted bound, for he saw entering the room, and leaning on the
arm of a fine military-looking man, whom he had no doubt was her father,
Miss Armytage herself. On the other side of her, endeavouring to engage
her in conversation, walked the stranger whom Glover thought so like
Alfonse Gerardin. The resemblance struck Morton, as his glance fell on
his countenance, as even greater than on the previous evening. Miss
Armytage seemed rather annoyed than otherwise with his attentions. As
Morton had been walking forward when he first saw the group he could not
stop short, so he continued to advance. The young lady put out her hand
frankly, though a gentle blush rose on her cheeks as she did so.
"Papa," she said, "I must introduce Mr Morton to you. I am sure that
you wish to thank him for the service he rendered me yesterday evening."
Colonel Armytage bowed, and assured Mr Morton that he was exceedingly
obliged to him; but he said this in a stiff way, which evidently annoyed
his daughter.
"I was fortunate indeed in being at hand; but I can claim no merit,"
replied Morton, in a modest manner.
Mrs Edmonstone came up and welcomed her young friend.
"I am so glad you have come back," she exclaimed, affectionately taking
her hand. "I was quite vexed at your having to run away to a
dinner-party, lest you should be too tired to dance this evening."
Edda assured her that she was not. She, on this, turned round quickly
to Ronald. "You dance, sometimes, Mr Morton, I know."
"Yes," he answered quickly, stepping forward and asking Miss Armytage to
dance.
She smiled and promised.
The young stranger looked very much annoyed. He had fancied himself
secure of her hand. Many men of rank and wealth would have been proud
of the honour Ronald had obtained, though not more proud than he was.
That evening was the brightest he had ever spent. But there were clouds
in the horizon. He learned that Colonel Armytage had received a high
appointment at Bombay, and that they were about at once to sail for that
presidency, on board the "Osterley," a Company's ship, which was to
touch there on her passage home.
"We sail in two weeks or so," said Miss Armytage. "I shall be truly
sorry to leave Calcutta."
"I had little expected to find it so delightful a place," answered
Ronald.
Miss Armytage slightly blushed when he said this. Why, she could
scarcely tell. Perhaps it was his manner--perhaps an unconscious look
he gave. Though many sought her hand, she declined dancing again, in
consequence of feeling tired, from having danced so much the previous
evening.
Ronald was constantly by her side; for whenever he left it, he was
quickly again attracted back; nor was he ever in want of an excuse for
returning. Towards the end of the evening he observed the eyes of
several people glancing towards him. It struck him that he formed the
subject of conversation, especially among a group of military men. It
was not, however, till he happened to meet Sims that his suspicions were
confirmed.
"I knew it would be so," said his brother lieutenant. "The fellows
here, among the military, have got an idea that you refused to fight
Maguire; and I believe that donkey, Bolton, has been setting the story
afloat. I should like to keel-haul him."
"Let him alone; it matters little what so insignificant a fellow says or
does," observed Morton. "The story can hardly last out the usual nine
days; and if we all behave well, we can allow these empty-headed fellows
to amuse themselves for that time at our expense."
The ball came to a conclusion without any unusual occurrence. Morton
could not help feeling sure that he stood well in the opinion of Miss
Armytage. He had so little conceit in his composition that it never for
a moment occurred to him that he had excited any warmer sentiment.
After this he frequently met her at Mrs Edmonstone's, as well as at
other houses. She invariably received him in the same friendly manner,
and exhibited evident pleasure in his society.
Probably she had not dared to probe her own feelings. Colonel Armytage
treated him as he would any other young officer who had proved a credit
to his profession. Mrs Edmonstone always treated him with the greatest
consideration.
"I have told her all about you, sir," said Dicky Glover one day. "That
cousin of mine is a first-rate person, and she says she thinks it an
honour to know you."
"I am much obliged to her for her good opinion," was Morton's reply.
His spirits were somewhat low; the "Osterley" was about to sail. He had
by chance become acquainted with her commander, Captain Winslow. By his
invitation he was on board to receive Colonel Armytage and his family.
He conducted Mrs and Miss Armytage over the ship.
"I wish that you were to accompany us in the frigate," said Mrs
Armytage. "In war time we do not know what enemies we may have to
encounter."
"I should indeed rejoice, if my duty would allow it; but I trust that
you will have no cause for alarm: the `Osterley' is said to be a fast
ship, and report speaks highly of her commander, Captain Winslow."
Mrs Armytage had spoken without thought. She had been much pleased
with Morton, and it did not occur to her that her daughter might have
been so likewise, in a far greater degree, or that he might misinterpret
her remark.
"Oh, of course I see that would be out of the question," she observed;
"but perhaps the admiral would send your ship to Bombay, and then you
could watch us. I do not know how it is, but I have a perfect dread of
this voyage."
Ronald Morton did his best to soothe the lady's alarm, hoping also that
she would not impart it to her daughter.
Colonel Armytage, when he rejoined the party, was considerably annoyed
at hearing the remarks of his wife.
Ronald could not help feeling that his manner on the present occasion
was colder than ever, and somewhat supercilious into the bargain. He,
by some means or other, introduced the subject of duelling, and spoke of
it as the only method by which gentlemen could settle their disputes.
"Military men, of course, hold their lives in their hands, and the man
who shirks a duel, or does not insist on having satisfaction for an
insult offered him, should, in my opinion, leave the noble profession of
arms and turn shopkeeper or shepherd. When I commanded a regiment, if
any officer showed the white feather in that respect, I took good care
that he should not long be one of ours."
Morton could scarcely doubt that the colonel's remarks were aimed at
him; but he thought of his gentle daughter, and refrained from making
any reply. A still higher motive might also have restrained him.
A pilot vessel accompanied the Indiaman till she was clear of the river.
Morton was therefore able to accept Captain Winslow's invitation to
remain on board till the ship was left to pursue her voyage alone.
Had Colonel Armytage exhibited towards him, at first, the same temper
that he did subsequently, he would have felt himself compelled, however
much against his will, to return on shore. Fortunately the colonel was
engaged for the greater part of the day in writing in his cabin, so that
Ronald was able to enjoy several hours of uninterrupted intercourse with
Miss Armytage; nor did he, when her father appeared, alter in the
slightest degree his tone of conversation or manner towards her.
At length the huge Indiaman was fairly out at sea. The pilot announced
that he must take his departure. Morton bade farewell to his friends.
Mrs Armytage held out her hand frankly, and her daughter followed her
example, though there was a softness and perceptible tremor in her voice
which made him wish more than ever that he could take Captain Winslow's
place, or even that of one of his officers. Colonel Armytage parted
with him with a cold shake of the hand and a formal "Good-bye, sir;" and
he was in the boat and soon on board the pilot vessel. The Indiaman's
yards were swung round, and under all sail she stood to the southward.
No sooner had Morton reached the deck of the pilot vessel than, as he
stood astern watching the Indiaman, his eye fell far beyond her, in the
horizon, on a sail. He saw that it was a large ship. He pointed her
out to the pilot.
"Yes, sir, there's no doubt of it. She is a large ship," was the
answer. "Maybe she's an Indiaman bound lip the Hooghly. Maybe she's
the `Rajah,' which sailed two days ago, and has been becalmed; or a
China ship looking in for orders; or one of the men-of-war on the
station."
"I care not what she is, provided she is not an enemy's cruiser," said
Morton. "She seems to have very square yards."
"Difficult to make that out, I should think," muttered the pilot as he
walked the deck, and then went forward to give some directions to his
native crew.
Till the pilot vessel re-entered the Hooghly, and Morton lost sight of
the Indiaman, his eye was seldom off her, while his thoughts were even
still more constant.
Once more he was on board the "Thisbe." He felt no inclination to
revisit Calcutta, and he only went up there once to pay his respects to
Mrs Edmonstone. She very naturally talked of Miss Armytage, and spoke
warmly in her praise. It was a subject of which Morton was not likely
to grow tired.
"Admiral Rainier tells me that he has ordered the `Thisbe' to proceed to
Bombay, so that you will have an opportunity of renewing your
acquaintance with my young friend," she added. "I think that I shall
charge you with a small parcel for her; some articles which were not
ready before she sailed."
This was delightful news for Morton. He had not heard that there was
any chance of the frigate being sent round to that presidency. Of
course it was not out of the pale of probability that Mrs Edmonstone
was likely to know where the ship was to be sent before the officers
belonging to her. Two or three days passed before the captain himself
had the information confirmed by the admiral's secretary.
"You are right, Morton," he said when he came on board. "We are bound
for Bombay, and if we put our best foot foremost we shall get there as
soon as that old tea-chest, the `Osterley.'"
Morton got his parcel from Mrs Edmonstone, and three days afterwards
the "Thisbe's" keel was ploughing the waters of the Indian Ocean.
During the voyage one pair of eyes, at all events, kept a bright look
out for any sail of the appearance of the "Osterley" Indiaman. The
second lieutenant was continually going aloft, spy-glass in hand,
sweeping the horizon. Some of his shipmates might have suspected the
cause, but he gave no reason for this practice which he had adopted. It
was war time, and he might have been on the look-out for an enemy.
"We shall be much obliged to you, Morton, if you make out a rich prize
some day," observed Sims. "A Dutchman from Java, or a Spaniard from the
Manillas, would be about the thing."
Day after day passed, but neither friend nor foe was seen.
At length, however, the "Thisbe" touched at Ponte de Galle, when she
fell in with another frigate direct from England, which had letters on
board for her. Ronald got one from his father. He could not bring
himself to live on shore, and having applied for employment, had been
appointed boatswain of a line-of-battle ship, the "Lion," which, it was
expected, would be sent out to the East India station.
Ronald Morton loved and honoured his father too well not to feel
pleasure at the thoughts of meeting him; at the same time he wished that
he could have retired and remained on shore till he could join him.
Without further adventure the frigate came off Bombay.
"The Indiaman you were on the look-out for must have arrived before us,"
observed Captain Calder, pointing to a large ship which lay in the
roads.
With a beating heart Ronald watched her as they drew near; but as the
"Thisbe" dropped her anchor at a short distance off, he saw that he was
mistaken. The "Osterley" had not arrived, and considerable alarm was
expressed by those who had been expecting her.