Part 16 (1/2)

At least so Lady Victoria thought.

”You look just like a sailor,” said she to Claudius.

”I feel like one,” he answered, ”and I think I shall adopt the sea as a profession.”

”It is such a pity,” said Miss Skeat, sternly clutching the twisted wire shroud. ”I would like to see you turn pirate; it would be so picturesque--you and Mr. Barker.” The others laughed, not at the idea of Claudius sporting the black flag--for he looked gloomy enough to do murder in the first degree this morning--but the picture of the exquisite and comfort-loving Mr. Barker, with his patent-leather shoes and his elaborate travelling apparatus, leading a band of black-browed ruffians to desperate deeds of daring and blood, was novel enough to be exhilarating; and they laughed loudly. They did not understand Mr.

Barker; but perhaps Miss Skeat, who liked him with an old-maidenly liking, had some instinct notion that the gentle American could be dangerous.

”Mr. Barker would never do for a pirate,” laughed Lady Victoria; ”he would be always getting his feet wet and having attacks of neuralgia.”

”Take care, Vick,” said her brother, ”he might hear you.”

”Well, if he did? I only said he would get his feet wet. There is no harm in that, and it is clear he has neuralgia, because he says it himself.”

”Well, of course,” said the Duke, ”if that is what you mean. But he will wet his feet fast enough when there is any good reason.”

”If you make it 'worth his while,' of course,” said Lady Victoria, ”I have no doubt of it.” She turned up her nose, for she was not very fond of Mr. Barker, and she thought poorly of the Duke's financial enterprises in America. It was not a bit like a good old English gentleman to be always buying and selling mines and stocks and all sorts of things with queer names.

”Look here, Vick, we won't talk any more about Barker, if you please.”

”Very well, then you can talk about the weather,” said she.

”Yes,” said Claudius, ”you may well do that. There is a good deal of weather to talk about.”

”Oh, I like a storm at sea, of all things!” exclaimed Lady Victoria, forgetting all about Mr. Barker in the delicious sense of saltness and freedom one feels on the deck of a good s.h.i.+p running through a lively sea. She put out her face to catch the fine salt spray on her cheek.

Just then a little water broke over the side abaft the gangway, and the vessel rose and fell to the sweep of a big wave. The water ran along over the flush deck, as if hunting for the scuppers, and came swas.h.i.+ng down to the lee where the party were standing, wetting the ladies' feet to the ankle. The men merely pulled themselves up by the ropes they held, and hung till the deck was clear again.

”I don't suppose it hurts you to get wet,” said the Duke to his sister, ”but you would be much better under hatches while this sort of thing is going on.”

”I think, if you will help me, I will go down and see how the Countess is,” said Miss Skeat; and Claudius detached her from the rigging and got her down the companion, but the Duke stayed with his sister, who begged for a few minutes more. Once below, Claudius felt how near he was to Margaret, who was doubtless in the ladies' cabin. He could reach his own quarters without entering that sanctum, of course, but as he still held Miss Skeat's arm to steady her to the door, he could not resist the temptation of putting his head through, for he knew now that she must be there. It was a large sitting-room, extending through the whole beam, with big port-holes on each side. Miss Skeat entered, and Claudius looked in.

There was Margaret, looking much as usual, her face turned a little from him as she lay in a huge arm-chair. She could not see him as she was, and his heart beat furiously as he looked at the face he loved best of all others.

Margaret spoke to Miss Skeat without turning her head, for she was working at some of her eternal needlework.

”Have you had a good time? How did you get down?”

”Such an airing,” answered the lady-companion, who was divesting herself of her wraps, ”and Dr Claudius--”

The last was lost to the Doctor's ear, for he withdrew his head and beat a hasty retreat. Miss Skeat also stopped speaking suddenly, for as she mentioned his name she looked naturally towards the door, supposing him to be standing there, and she just saw his head disappear from between the curtains. Margaret turned her eyes and saw Miss Skeat's astonishment.

”Well, what about Dr. Claudius?” she asked.

”Oh, nothing,” said Miss Skeat, ”you asked me how I got down, and I was going to say Dr. Claudius gave me his arm, and I thought he had come in here with me.”

Neither Miss Skeat nor Claudius had noticed Mr. Barker, who was ensconced on a corner transom, with his nails and a book to amuse himself with. He saw the whole thing: how the Doctor put his white face and dripping beard through the curtains, and suddenly withdrew it at the mention of his name, and how Miss Skeat held her peace about having seen it too. He reflected that something had happened, that Miss Skeat knew all about it, and that she was a discreet woman. He wondered what it could be. Claudius would not look like that unless something were wrong, he thought, and he would certainly come back in five minutes if everything were right. He had not seen him at breakfast. He took out his watch softly and let it drop on his book, face upwards. Meanwhile he talked to the two ladies about the weather, and listened to Miss Skeat's rapturous account of the spray and the general slipperiness of the upper regions. When five minutes were elapsed he put his watch back and said he thought he would try it himself, as he fancied the fresh air would do him good. So he departed, and obtained a pair of sea-boots and an oilskin, which he contemplated with disgust, and put on with resolution. He wanted to find the Duke, and he wanted to see Claudius; but he wanted them separately.

Mr. Barker cautiously put his head out of the cuddy door and espied the Duke and his sister. This was not exactly what he wanted, and he would have retired, but at that moment Lady Victoria caught sight of him, and immediately called out to him not to be afraid, as it was much smoother now. But Mr. Barker's caution had proceeded from other causes, and being detected, he put a bold face on it, stepped on the deck and slammed the door behind him. Lady Victoria was somewhat surprised to see him tread the slippery deck with perfect confidence and ease, for she thought he was something of a ”duffer.” But Barker knew how to do most things more or less, and he managed to bow and take off his sou'wester with considerable grace in spite of the rolling. Having obtained permission to smoke, he lighted a cigar, crooked one booted leg through the iron rail, and seated himself on the bulwark, where, as the steamer lurched, he seemed to be in a rather precarious position. But there was a sort of cat-like agility in his wiry frame, that bespoke unlimited powers of balancing and holding on.

”I thought there were more of you,” he began, addressing Lady Victoria.