Part 32 (1/2)
”Glad to see ye again, Master Willie. I'd just sighted the frigate's signal for sailin', an' despaired o' havin' the chance to say a last word to yourself, or Mr Crozier.”
”Well, old boy; it's about that I've come ash.o.r.e. Jump out; and walk with me a bit along the wharf.”
The sailor drops his oar, and springs out upon the pier, the young officer preceding him.
When sufficiently distant from the boats to be beyond earshot of the oarsmen, Cadwallader resumes speech:
”Harry; here's a letter from Mr Crozier. He wants you to deliver it at the address you'll find written upon it. To save you the necessity of inquiring, I can point out the place it's to go to. Look along sh.o.r.e.
You see a house--yonder on the top of the hill?”
”Sartinly, I see it, Master Willie; and know who lives theer. Two o'
the sweetest creeturs in all Californey. I s'pose the letter be for one o' them?”
”No, it isn't, you dog; for neither of them. Read the superscription.
You see it's addressed to a gentleman?”
”Oh! it's for the guv'nor hisself,” rejoins Harry, taking the letter, and running his eye over the direction--Don Gregorio Montijo. ”All right, sir. I'll put it in the old gentleman's flippers safe an' sure.
Do you want me to go with it now, sir?”
”Well, as soon as you conveniently can; though there's no need for helter-skelter haste, since there wouldn't be time for an answer, anyhow. In twenty minutes we'll weigh anchor, and be off. I've hurried ash.o.r.e to see you, hoping to find you at the s.h.i.+p-agent's office. How fortunate my stumbling on you here! For now I can better tell you what's wanted. In that letter, there's something that concerns Mr Crozier and myself--matters of importance to us both. When you've given it to Don Gregorio, he'll no doubt ask you some questions about what happened last night. Tell him all you know; except that you needn't say anything of Mr Crozier and myself having taken a little too much champagne--which we did. You understand, old boy?”
”Perfectly, Master Will.”
”Good. Now Harry; I haven't another moment to stay. See! The s.h.i.+p's beginning to spread canvas! If I don't get back directly, I may be left here in California, never to rise above the rank of reefer. Oh! by the way, you'll be pleased to know that your friend Mr Crozier is now a lieutenant. His commission arrived by the corvette that came in last night. He told me to tell you, and I'd nearly forgotten it.”
”I'm glad to hear it,” rejoins the sailor, raising the hat from his head, and giving a subdued cheer; ”right gled; an', maybe, he'll be the same, hearin' Harry Blew's been also promoted. I'm now first mate o'
the Chili s.h.i.+p, Master Willie.”
”Hurrah! I congratulate you on your good luck. I'm delighted to know that, and so will he be. We may hope some day to see you a full-fledged skipper, commanding your own craft. Now, you dear old salt, don't forget to look well after the girls. Again, good-bye, and G.o.d bless you!”
A squeeze of hands, with lingers entwined, tight as a reef-knot--then relaxed with reluctance--after which they separate. The mid, jumping into the dingy, is rowed back towards the _Crusader_; while Harry re-hires the truckman; but now only to stay by, and take care of his boat, till he can return to it, after executing the errand entrusted to him. Snug as his new berth promises to be, he would rather lose it than fail to deliver that letter.
And in ten minutes after, he has pa.s.sed through the suburbs of the town, and is hastening along the sh.o.r.e-road, towards the house of Don Gregorio Montijo.
CHAPTER FORTY.
DREADING A ”DESAFIO.”
Once more upon the _azotea_ stand Carmen Montijo and Inez Alvarez.
It is the morning of the day succeeding that made sacred by their betrothal. Their eyes are upon the huge wars.h.i.+p, that holds the men who holds their hearts, with promise of their hands--in short, every hope of their life's happiness.
They could be happy now, but for an apprehension which oppresses them-- causing them keen anxiety. Yesterday, with its scenes of pleasureable excitement, had also its incidents of the opposite kind; the remembrance of which too vividly remains, and is not to be got rid of. The encounter between the gamblers and their lovers cannot end with that episode, to which they were themselves witness. Something more will surely come from it.
And what will this something be? What should it? What could it, but a _desafio_--a duel?
However brave on yester-morn the two senoritas were, or pretended to be, however regardless of consequences, it is different to-day. The circ.u.mstances have changed. Then, their sweethearts were only suitors.
Now, they are affianced, still standing in the relations.h.i.+p of lovers, but with ties more firmly, if not more tenderly, united. For are they not now their own.