Part 36 (1/2)
”There are sharks in Sydney Harbour, too,” she added reflectively.
”Oh cripes!” cried the cabman reverently. ”Come on then, boss,” he added, turning to Louis. ”Heave hold of my shoulder. If old monkey face is drowned your missus'll hear sharp enough from the police.”
Suddenly she ran back to the companion-way. She did not look to see where Ole Fred was. Keeping her eyes averted she called, ”Good-bye, Knollys. Thank you for being so kind to me.”
Then she took Louis's hand without a word. He stood immovable.
”Feel sh-s.h.i.+ck, ole girl,” he gasped.
She stood still, feeling sick, too.
”Go on, ma--I'll tend him,” said the cabman. Marcella walked on with her head in the air, looking disgusted. After a few minutes she turned and saw the cabman struggling to drag him along. His legs lagged foolishly.
”Can't walk, ole girl. Legs all cross-nibbed, ole girl,” he moaned.
”You're not to talk, Louis,” she said calmly.
”Talk? Talk? Can't talk. Parlez-vous Franshay, Marsh-sh.e.l.la? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? Baisez-moi, ma pet.i.te--!”
She faced him suddenly.
”Look here, Louis. If you talk French one of us goes in the harbour. I'd rather it was me. Either that or I'll take my hands and choke you. _You_ know they're strong hands--made in Scotland, Louis--bony, not a bit wobbly. Now what do you think?”
He made a sudden effort, threw off the cabman's detaining hand, swayed a little and then steered a straight course for the cab, stumbling over the step and crawling in on his knees.
”Isn't he a lad!” said the cabman admiringly. ”Pair of lads, that's what you are! By cripes, you are! Where are you making for, missus?” His eyes, full of curiosity, were on the s.h.i.+p as a babble of voices rose.
”Listen, they've got ole monkey-face! That's him singing out now. We'd better put our best leg forward for fear he comes after you.”
”If he does I shall put him back again,” she said; ”we were going to the Hotel Australia--but I don't think I'll take my husband there. I think they mightn't like him. Do you know anywhere else we could go--a house--where there are poor people who won't be rude to me about him?”
He thought for a moment. Then his face brightened.
”I know the very place, ma. It's quite near. The boss boozes, but Ma's a good sort. She'll have a room, sure. It's all among the Chows, if you don't mind that.”
”Chows--what are Chows?”
”Chinese--c.h.i.n.ks--a good many white people won't live among them.”
”If they don't object to us, I'm sure I shall not to them.”
The next minute she was sitting beside Louis, but he was fast asleep.
”Louis,” she whispered, shaking him gently. He stirred and muttered, but could not waken. She stared at him in the pa.s.sing light of the street lamps. He looked so helpless, so much at her mercy. Quite unexpectedly she leaned over and kissed the tip of his ear. Next minute she was sobbing uncontrollably, leaning against his arm.
”Oh, why didn't I go in the water? I can't bear it--I can't! I'll never be able to go through with it! I'm making him no better--and no one can keep on being disappointed and disappointed and still keeping their faith. Even to-day, when I ought to have been so happy.”
She sat up suddenly, and turned away from Louis, holding out longing arms for the softness of her mother, the autocratic strength of her father. But she had to dry her eyes quickly because the cabman had stopped and was speaking through the window.
”Here we are, ma,” he said.