Part 8 (1/2)
Jeff had to rise and sit down on a shelf of rock to escape some of Bounce's overwhelming affection. Presently Bounce's owner appeared, and went through something of a similar performance--humanised, however, and with more of dignity.
”I can't tell 'ee how glad I am to see you again, Jeff,” said Bowers, sitting down beside him, and grasping his hand. ”But oh, man, how thin--”
The huge coastguardsman choked at this point, as Wilson had done before him; but, being more ready of resource, he turned it into a cough, and declared, sternly, that night-work must have given him a cold, or ”suthin' o' that sort.” After which he made a great demonstration of clearing his throat and blowing his nose.
”But you'll soon be yours--at least, somethin' like your old self, before long, Jeff. The doctor told us that, the last time he was at the station.”
”If G.o.d wills,” returned Jeff, softly; ”I am in His hands, and willing to be what He chooses. You remember, David, the talk we once had about Miss Millet's argument, that G.o.d brings good out of evil. I didn't believe it then; I believe it now. I've bin to school since I last saw you, David, and I've learned a good lesson, for I can say from my heart it has been good for me that I was afflicted.”
Bowers did not reply, but looked at his friend with an expression of puzzled surprise.
”Yes,” continued Jeff, with rising enthusiasm; ”I have lost my health-- the doctor thinks permanently. I've lost the strength that I used to be so proud of, and with it the hope of being able to make a living in any active line of life; and I've lost much more besides. But what I have found in my Saviour far more than makes up for it all.”
In the ”much more besides,” poor Jeff mentally referred to his loss of all hope of ever gaining the hand of Rose Millet; for if his chance seemed small before, how immeasurably was it reduced now that his health was shattered, and his power even of supporting himself gone. No; he felt that that door was closed--that he must avoid the girl as much as possible in future; and, above all, be particularly careful not to fall in love with her. Of course, it was only a pa.s.sing fancy as yet, and, like fruit, would never ripen unless the sun shone. He would avoid the suns.h.i.+ne! Meanwhile, of all these rapidly fleeting thoughts, he said never a word to his friend David Bowers, but after a little more conversation, begged him also to go away and let him rest.
All very good, friend Jeff; but what if the sun should s.h.i.+ne in spite of you?
Just about that time, in the course of his eager and somewhat erratic wanderings among solicitors and other men of business, Captain Millet made a sudden pause, and, by way of taking breath, rushed down to Folkestone, brought Rose up to Cranby, hired a dog-cart, and drove along the sands at low tide, in the direction of his sister's cottage.
”I think it probable that you may see him today, Rosebud,” he said, ”though I'm not quite sure, for the doctor is afraid of a relapse, and friends are not yet allowed to visit him. To be sure bein' only a little girl, you probably wouldn't disturb him at all--'specially if you didn't speak. Anyhow, you'll see auntie, which will be more to the purpose.”
”Father,” said Rose, whose name seemed remarkably appropriate at that moment, ”I should like to get down here, and walk the rest of the way.
By the time I arrive, you'll have had a little talk with poor Jeff and auntie. Besides, there is a pretty cave that I used to gather sh.e.l.ls in when I was last here. I would like so much to pay it a visit in pa.s.sing.”
Of course the captain had no objection, and thus it came to pa.s.s that Jeff's fourth visitor on that unquiet morning was the Rosebud!
How feeble are written words to convey ideas at times! If you could have obtained one glance of Rose and Jeff at that moment, reader, words would not be required. No peony ever blushed like that Rose--to say nothing of the blank amazement in those wide blue eyes. Jeff, still seated on the rock, became petrified.
Recovering first, as women always do, Rose hurried forward with--”I'm _so_ glad, Mr ---,” but there she stopped abruptly, for the unexpected sight of that stalwart coastguardsman, reduced to a big skeleton with pale face, hollow cheeks, cavernous eyes, and an old-man stoop, was too much for her. She covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.
What could Jeff do? He forgot his prudent resolves. He forgot his weakness because his strength seemed to have suddenly returned. He sprang up, intending to comfort the poor girl in a brotherly sort of way. Somehow--he never could clearly remember how--he had her seated on the rock beside him, with his arm round her waist and her head on his shoulder.
A few moments later--he never could tell how many--the wickedness of his conduct came down upon Jeff like a thunderbolt. He removed his arm, drew away from her about three inches, and looked in her surprised face with a solemn, self-condemned expression.
”Forgive me, Rose,” he said, in the deep, hollow voice which had become natural to him since his illness began; ”my love for you proved too strong to be restrained just now: but believe me, I had fully made up my mind never to open my lips to you on the subject; for what right have I, a helpless, and, I fear, hopeless, invalid, to dare to aspire--”
There must have been something peculiar in the very slight, almost pathetic, smile which overspread the tearful face of Rose at that moment: for the arm was suddenly replaced, the three inches were reduced to nothing, the fair head again rested on the once stalwart shoulder, and thus they remained until the cavern was filled with the sounds:--
”Hi! Ho! Hallo! Rose--Rosebud ahoy! That girl would worry any man to death! Where are you? Hi! s.h.i.+p ahoy! Hallo-o-o!”
We need scarcely remark that Rose did not wait for the last stentorian halloo! Bounding from her lover's side, she ran to meet her father--red at first and then pale--exclaiming, ”Oh! father I've found him!”
”Found who, child?”
”Jeff--I mean Mister--”
”Not dead?” exclaimed the Captain, interrupting with awful solemnity.
He was answered by the invalid himself coming out of the cavern, and wis.h.i.+ng him good-morning with a confused and guilty air.