Part 11 (1/2)
The next minute the first bell rang to warn visitors to be getting their farewells over, and he started again, shyly and hesitatingly:
”Marcella--I'd be careful.”
He was frightened of women-folk unless they were ill. He could talk to Marcella about impersonal things very interestedly, but suddenly to become fatherly was difficult. His mouth went dry, his face flushed and he wished he had asked Aunt Janet to come with them.
She seized his arm eagerly.
”Oh look at the nice, kind little lifeboats! They're not much bigger than Tammas's boat. Doctor, if we're wrecked isn't it a good thing I can row and swim? Do you think we might get wrecked? I'd have that nice little neat boat the third along and rescue the women and children! If the boat gets full I'll hop out and swim--and if sharks come along I'll tell them what Aunt Janet said about Hoodie. I think I'd be tough, don't you?”
Her face clouded at mention of her aunt and Hoodie and the second bell rang out.
”Only three more minutes,” called a steward close to Marcella's side.
”All for the sh.o.r.e ready, please!”
”You'll be looking after Aunt Janet, doctor?” she said gravely. ”And Wullie? He'll miss me--if you'd make it possible to call and have a few words with him at the hut when you're pa.s.sing.”
”Yes, Marcella,” said the doctor, and found his voice strangely husky.
”And look here, Marcella--you'll be careful?”
Her eyes were looking into his, very bright with tears as she took his hand in hers and walked towards the gangway with him.
”I couldn't be careful if I tried,” she said, laughing, though her eyes got even more damp than ever. ”Why should I be careful?”
”You--you might get sea-sick,” stammered the doctor despairingly.
”Oh don't be silly! I'm as much at home on the sea as Tammas. Sea-sick indeed! Whatever next?”
The third bell clanged deafeningly and the siren of the little tender hooted at the doctor's efforts to be fatherly.
”Any more for the sh.o.r.e, please?” called one of the s.h.i.+p's officers who stood ready to cast off, and Marcella thought he looked accusingly at the doctor.
”They'll be taking you along, doctor,” she said. ”Oh I do wish you were coming! Good-bye! Good-bye. Oh dear, I do believe I'm going to cry.”
”Good-bye, la.s.sie,” said the doctor, taking off his gla.s.ses as he stepped on to the gangway and blinked at her. Suddenly she thought he looked so grey and so lonely that it seemed necessary to comfort him and, before the man at the gangway could stop her, she had dashed after him, flung her arms round his neck, kissed him loudly on his ruddy cheek and ran back on deck again, all in a moment. She was looking at the doctor as he stared at her blindly, but she was suddenly conscious of a loud and pa.s.sionate ”d.a.m.n!” very close to her. She guessed, rather than realized, that she was standing on someone's foot.
”Oh, I am so sorry,” she said, flus.h.i.+ng hotly; she gave the owner of the foot, which was in a neat brown shoe, a swift upward glance that stopped at rather bright, downcast brown eyes. The next minute she was waving to the doctor, for the tender had already started and the gap of dirty water was widening.
”You'll take care, Marcella,” he called. ”And, Marcella, if you're getting unhappy, you'll be coming back home?”
”Of course I'll come back. This is only a crusade,” she said, waving her hand to him, feeling that she would begin to dance with excitement in another moment, and at the same time wis.h.i.+ng that he could come with her, for, as she saw him through mists slowly getting further and further away while the gap of water widened, she realized how absolutely alone she was.
Next moment she became aware of a tall, grey-haired lady in black clinging to the rail beside the doctor, and crying unrestrainedly as she seemed to be gazing directly at Marcella.
”Louis, you'll remember, won't you?” she cried in a faint, choked voice. ”You'll try, won't you?” and Marcella, turning slightly, realized that it was the young man with brown eyes at whom she was looking.
”Yes, Mater, you know I will,” said he hoa.r.s.ely. A crowd of half a dozen men standing on the other side of Dr. Angus began to yell greetings and farewells to the man called Louis while the grey lady's eyes and his held each other for a moment in a pa.s.sionate glance of appeal and ratification.
”Cheerio, Farne,” called someone.
”Farne, don't get wet!” yelled someone else. There was a chorus of cheers and catcalls.