Part 5 (1/2)
he added, pointing to Jeff, ”stands the man that saved my life.”
If Rose loved the young coastguardsman before, she absolutely idolised him now. Something of the feeling must have betrayed itself on her fair face, for Jeff made a step towards her, as if under an irresistible impulse to seize her hand.
But at that moment he experienced an agonising sensation of pain, and, staggering backwards, sat down--almost fell--upon the sofa.
”Nothing--nothing,” he replied, to the anxious inquiries of Miss Millet.
”Only a little pain, caused by the rap I got from that mast. Come now, auntie, don't fuss about me, but sit down and hear what the captain has got to say.”
CHAPTER FIVE.
MISS MILLET RECEIVES A SURPRISE, ROSEBUD A DISAPPOINTMENT, AND OUR HERO ANOTHER BLOW.
Miss Millet was one of those cheery, unselfish, active-minded women who are not easily thrown off their balance--deranged, as the French say--by untoward circ.u.mstances.
The arrival of any two friends at two in the morning would have failed to disturb the good nature or weaken the hospitality of that amiable creature. Her joy, therefore, at the sudden, though untimely, appearance of her brother and friend was not marred by selfish considerations; and although she was eager to bear what the captain had to say, she would not let him begin until he and Jeff had retired to an attic chamber and put on dry habiliments.
How male attire came to be so handy in a spinster's house is easily accounted for by the fact that her regard for the memory of her departed father was so great as to have induced her to leave his hat and stick in the pa.s.sage in their wonted places after his death, and to leave undisturbed the chest of drawers which contained the greater part of his wardrobe. Nothing short of absolute necessity would have induced Miss Millet to disturb these sacred relics; but she knew that death might result from sitting in drenched clothes, and her well-balanced mind at once pointed out that here was a case which demanded a sacrifice. She therefore bowed to the inevitable, and handed her brother the key of the chest of drawers.
As the late Mr Millet had been a large man, the result was that her visitors were admirably fitted out--the only disadvantage being that the captain had to turn up the legs of the trousers and the cuffs of the coat.
Meanwhile Miss Millet lighted a gas-stove, which she had always ready for invalid purposes, and Rose arranged the table, so that when their visitors returned to the parlour, they were greeted with the sight of food and the singing of the tea-kettle.
”I can offer you brandy, brother,” said the little hostess, ”_as a medicine_!”
”Thankee, Molly--not even as a medicine,” said the captain, with a benignant look; ”tea is better in the circ.u.mstances. I can speak from a vast amount of experience. But of course I speak only for myself. I don't know what Jeff's principles--”
”My principles,” interrupted the coastguardsman, ”are to leave every man to judge for himself. My judgment for myself is, that, as I don't require strong drink, I'm much better without it.”
”My principles go much further than that,” said Miss Millet who was an enthusiastic total abstainer. ”The Bible justifies me in denying myself the use of wine and all spirituous liquors _for my brother's sake_, so that I may set him an example, and also have more weight when I reason with him, and try to get him to adopt my views.”
”Why, Molly, to hear you talk like that about giving up drink for your brother's sake, one would think that I had bin a tippler all my life!”
”You know that I refer to my brother--man, brother.”
”Ah, of course--of course; and also your sister-woman, I suppose,” cried the captain, seizing the loaf and beginning to cut it into inch-and-a-half slices. ”What's _your_ opinion, Rosebud, on the drink question?”
Rose, whose cheeks emulated her namesake flower, replied that, never having tasted wine or spirits in her life, or thought upon the drink question at all, she had no opinion to express.
”Long may you continue in that innocent and humble state of mind, my Rosebud,” cried the captain, with a laugh which caused him to choke on his first mouthful of tea. After recovering himself and wiping his eyes, he said--
”Now, Moll, I must tell you all about the wreck;” on which he launched out into a graphic description of what the reader already knows.
You may be sure that he did not underrate the services and heroism of Jeff, who sat wonderfully silent during the recital, and only acknowledged references to himself with a faint smile.
”But, brother,” exclaimed Miss Millet, with sudden energy when he had finished, ”what will the consequences of this wreck be?”
”The consequences, my dear, will be that the owners will lose a good many thousand pounds, for neither s.h.i.+p nor cargo were insured. An' it sarves 'em right for the vessel was not fit to go to sea; an' they knew it, but were too graspin' to go to the expense o' refittin'. Besides, they've bin what they call so lucky in past years that they thought, I fancy, there was no fear o' their luck departin'.”
”But I was not thinking of the owners, brother; I was thinking of the consequences to yourself.”