Part 8 (1/2)

”It's herself,” whispered Pete. ”She's coming! She's here!”

Philip turned, and saw Kate in the doorway of the dairy, the sweet young figure framed like a silhouette by the light behind.

”I'm going!” said Philip, and he edged up to the house as the girl stepped out.

Pete followed him a step or two in approaching Kate. ”Whist, man!” he whispered. ”Tell the old geezer I'll be going to chapel reglar early tides and late s.h.i.+fts, and Sunday-school constant. And, whist! tell him I'm larning myself to play on the harmonia.”

Then Philip slithered softly through the dairy door, and shut it after him, leaving Kate and Pete together.

VII.

The kitchen of ”The Manx Fairy” was now savoury with the odour of herrings roasting in their own brine, and musical with the crackling and frizzling of the oil as it dropped into the fire.

”It's a long way back to Ballure, Mrs. Cregeen,” said Philip, popping his head in at the door jamb. ”May I stay to a bite of supper?”

”Aw, stay and welcome,” said Caesar, putting down the big book, and Nancy Joe said the same, dropping her high-pitched voice perceptibly, and Grannie said, also, ”Right welcome, sir, if you'll not be thinking mane to take pot luck with us. Potatoes and herrings, Mr. Christian; just a Manxman's supper. Lift the pot off the slowrie, Nancy.”

”Well, and isn't he a Manxman himself, mother?” said Caesar.

”Of course I am, Mr. Cregeen,” said Philip, laughing noisily. ”If I'm not, who should be, eh?'”

”And Manxman or no Manxman, what for should he turn up his nose at herrings same as these?” said Nancy Joe. She was dis.h.i.+ng up a bowlful.

”Where'll he get the like of them? Not in England over, I'll go bail.”

”Indeed, no, Nancy,” said Philip, still laughing needlessly.

”And if they had them there, the poor, useless creatures would be lost to cook them.”

”'Deed, would they, Nancy,” said Grannie. She was rolling the potatoes into a heap on to the bare table. ”And we've much to be thankful for, with potatoes and herrings three times a day; but we shouldn't be thinking proud of our-selves for that.”

”Ask the gentleman to draw up, mother,” said Caesar.

”Draw up, sir, draw up. Here's your bowl of b.u.t.ter-milk. A knife and fork, Nancy. We're no people for knife and fork to a herring, sir. And a plate for Mr. Christian, woman; a gentleman usually likes a plate. Now ate, sir, ate and welcome--but where's your friend, though?”

”Pete! oh! he's not far off.” Saying this, Philip interrupted his laughter to distribute sage winks between Nancy Joe and Grannie.

Caesar looked around with a potato half peeled in his fingers. ”And the girl--where's Kate?” he asked.

”She's not far off neither,” said Philip, still winking vigorously. ”But don't trouble about them, Mr. Cregeen. They'll want no supper. They're feeding on sweeter things than herrings even.” Saying this he swallowed a gulp with another laugh.

Caesar lifted his head with a pinch of his herring between finger and thumb half way to his open mouth. ”Were you spaking, sir?” he said.

At that Philip laughed immoderately. It was a relief to drown with laughter the riot going on within.

”Aw, dear, what's agate of the boy?” thought Grannie.

”Is it a dog bite that's working on him?” thought Nancy.

”Speaking!” cried Philip, ”of course I'm speaking. I've come in to do it, Mr. Cregeen--I've come in to speak for Pete. He's fond of your daughter, Caesar, and wants your good-will to marry her.”