Part 8 (1/2)
”Well, you will all need to keep a bright look-out in this sort of thickness. How far off can you see?”
The man stared, and blinked, and mused, and then said he allowed about a mile and a quarter.
”Room enough,” said I. ”But mind your big mail boats out of Southampton! There are German skippers amongst them who would drive through the devil himself sooner than lose five minutes.”
The promise of a long, wet, blank day was not very cheering. In fact, this change in the weather was as damping to my spirits as it literally was to everything else, and as I entered the companion way for shelter, I felt as though half of a mind to order the yacht to be headed for some adjacent port. But a little thinking brought back my resolution to its old bearings. It is a hard thing to avow, but I knew that my very strongest chance of gaining Lady Amelia's consent lay in this sea trip. Then again, there might come a break at any moment, with a fine day of warm suns.h.i.+ne and clear sky to follow. I re-entered the cabin, and on looking at the barometer observed a slight depression in the mercury, but it was without significance to my mind.
Somewhere about this time Grace came out of her berth. She brought an atmosphere of flower-like fragrance with her, but the motions of the yacht obliged her to sit quickly, and she gazed at me with laughter in her eyes from the locker, graceful in her posture as a reposing dancer.
Her face lengthened, however, when I told her about the weather, that in short there was nothing visible from the deck but a muddy, jumbled atmosphere of vapour and drizzle.
”I counted upon seeing the Isle of Wight,” cried she; ”there has been no land so far except those far-off high cliffs yesterday afternoon.”
”No matter, my sweet. Let us take as long as possible in breakfasting.
Then you shall read Tennyson to me--yes, I have a volume of that poet, and we shall find some of the verses in wonderful harmony with our mood.” She gave me a smiling glance, though her lip pouted as though she would say, ”Don't make too sure of my mood, my fine young fellow.”
”By the time we have done with Tennyson,” I continued, ”the weather may have cleared. If not, then we must take as long as possible in dining.”
”Isn't it dangerous to be at sea in such weather as this?” she asked.
”No,” said I.
”But the sailors can't see.”
I feared the drift of her language and exclaimed, ”It would be dangerous to attempt to make the land, for we might blunder upon a rock and go to pieces, Grace; and then farewell, a long farewell to the pa.s.sions, emotions, the impulses, the sensations which have brought us together here,” and I kissed her hand.
”But it would be pleasant to lie in a pretty harbour--to rest as it were,” she exclaimed.
”Our business is to get married, my darling,” I rejoined; ”and we must hasten as swiftly as the wind will allow us to the parish where the ceremony is to be performed, for my cousin can't publish the banns until we are on the spot, and whilst he is publis.h.i.+ng the banns we must be treating with her ladys.h.i.+p, and, as the diplomatists would say, negotiating a successful issue.”
She sighed, and looked grave, and hung her head. In truth, she took a gloomy view of the future, was secretly convinced her aunt would not consent, was satisfied that she would have to reside with my sister until she had come of age, and my lightest touching upon the subject dispirited her. And, indeed, though I had talked big to Caudel, and to my darling also, of my sister taking charge of her, I was not at all sure--I ought undoubtedly to have asked the question of a lawyer--that Lady Amelia Roscoe could not, as her guardian, claim her, and convey her to school afresh, and do, in short, what she pleased with the child until she was twenty-one years old. But all the same I felt c.o.c.ksure in my heart that it would never come to this. Our yachting trip I regarded as a provision against all difficulties.
My mind was busy with these thoughts as I sat by her side looking at her; but she loved me not less than I loved her, and so I never found it hard to coax a smile into her sweet face and to brighten her eyes.
CHAPTER V
DIRTY WEATHER
I should only weary you by reciting the pa.s.sage of the hours. After breakfast I took Grace on deck for a turn, but she was glad to get below again. All day long it continued dark weather, without a sight of anything, save at intervals the shadowy figure of a coaster aslant in the thickness, and once the loom of a huge ocean pa.s.senger boat, sweeping at twelve or fourteen knots through the grey veil of vapour that narrowed the horizon to within a mile of us. The wind, however, remained a steady, fresh breeze, and throughout the day there was never a rope handled nor a st.i.tch of canvas reduced. The _Spitfire_ swung steadfastly through it, in true sea-bruising style, st.u.r.dily flinging the sea off her flaring bow, and whitening the water with the plunges of her churning keel till the tail of her wake seemed to stretch to the near sea line.
I will not feign, however, that I was perfectly comfortable in my mind.
Anything at sea but thick weather! I never pretended to be more than a summer-holiday sailor, and such anxiety, as I should have felt had I been alone, was now mightily accentuated, as you will suppose, by having the darling of my heart in my little s.h.i.+p with me. I had a long talk with Caudel that afternoon, and despite my eager desire to remain at sea, I believe I would have been glad had he advised that the _Spitfire_ should be steered for the nearest harbour. But his counsel was all the other way.
”Lord love ye, Mr. Barclay, sir,” he exclaimed, ”what's agoing wrong that we should tarn to and set it right? Here's a breeze of wind that's adoing all that could be asked for. I dorn't say it ain't thick, but there's nothen in it to take notice of. Of course, you've only got to say the word, sir, and I'll put the h.e.l.lum up; but even for that there job it would be proper to make sartin first of all where we are. There's no want of harbours under our lee from Portland Bill to Bolt Head, but I can't trust to my dead reckoning, seeing what's involved,” said he, casting a damp eye at the skylight; ”and my motto is, there's nothen like seeing when you're on such a coast as this here. Having come all this way it 'ud be a pity to stop now.”
”So long as you're satisfied!” I exclaimed; and no doubt he was, though I believe he was influenced by vanity too. Our putting into a harbour might affect him as a reflection upon his skill. He would also suppose that, if we entered a harbour, we should travel by rail to our destination, which would be as though he were told we could not trust him farther. After the service he had done me it was not to be supposed I could causelessly give the worthy fellow offence.
”You steer by the compa.s.s, I suppose?” said I.
”By nothen else, sir,” he answered in a voice of wonder.