Volume I Part 31 (1/2)
”Elfie, how do you know there is a G.o.d? what reason have you for thinking so, out of the Bible?”
It was a strange look little Fleda gave him. He felt it at the time, and he never forgot it. Such a look of reproach, sorrow, and _pity_, he afterwards thought, as an angel's face might have worn. The _question_ did not seem to occupy her a moment. After this answering look she suddenly pointed to the sinking sun, and said ?
”Who made that, Mr. Carleton?”
Mr. Carleton's eyes, following the direction of hers, met the long, bright rays, whose still witness-bearing was almost too powerful to be borne. The sun was just dipping majestically into the sea, and its calm self-a.s.sertion seemed to him at that instant hardly stronger than its vindication of its Author.
A slight arrow may find the joint in the armour before which many weightier shafts have fallen powerless. Mr. Carleton was an unbeliever no more from that time.
CHAPTER XII.
”He borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again when he was able. ? _Merchant of Venice_.
One other incident alone in the course of the voyage deserves to be mentioned; both because it served to bring out the characters of several people, and because it was not ? what is? ? without its lingering consequences.
Thorn and Rossitur had kept up indefatigably the game of teasing Fleda about her ”English admirer,” as they sometime styled him. Poor Fleda grew more and more sore on the subject.
She thought it was very strange that two grown men could not find enough to do to amuse themselves without making sport of the comfort of a little child. She wondered they could take pleasure in what gave her so much pain; but so it was; and they had it up so often that, at last, others caught it from them, and, though not in malevolence, yet in thoughtless folly, many a light remark was made and question asked of her that set little Fleda's sensitive nerves a-quivering. She was only too happy that they were never said before Mr. Carleton ?
that would have been a thousand times worse. As it was, her gentle nature was constantly suffering from the pain or the fear of these attacks.
”Where's Mr. Carleton?” said her cousin, coming up one day.
”I don't know,” said Fleda; ”I don't know but he is gone up into one of the tops.”
”Your humble servant leaves you to yourself a great while this morning, it seems to me. He is growing very inattentive.”
”I wouldn't permit it. Miss Fleda, if I were you,” said Thorn, maliciously. ”You let him have his own way too much.”
”I wish you wouldn't talk so, cousin Charlton!” said Fleda.
”But seriously,” said Charlton, ”I think you had better call him to account. He is very suspicious lately. I have observed him walking by himself, and looking very glum indeed. I am afraid he has taken some fancy into his head that would not suit you. I advise you to inquire into it.”
”I wouldn't give myself any concern about it,” said Thorn, lightly, enjoying the child's confusion and his own fanciful style of backbiting; ”I'd let him go if he has a mind to, Miss Fleda. He's no such great catch. He's neither lord nor knight ? nothing in the world but a private gentleman, with plenty of money, I dare say, but you don't care for that; and there's as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it. I don't think much of him.”
”He is wonderfully better than _you_,” thought Fleda, as she looked in the young gentleman's face for a second, but she said nothing.
”Why, Fleda,” said Charlton, laughing, ”it wouldn't be a killing affair, would it? How has this English admirer of yours got so far in your fancy? praising your pretty eyes, eh?
? eh?” he repeated, as Fleda kept a dignified silence.
”No,” said Fleda, in displeasure; ”he never says such things.”
”No?” said Charlton. ”What then! What does he say? I wouldn't let him make a fool of me, if I were you. Fleda ? did he ever ask you for a kiss?”
”No!” exclaimed Fleda, half beside herself, and bursting into tears: ” I wish you wouldn't talk so! How can you!”
They had carried the game pretty far that time, and thought best to leave it. Fleda stopped crying as soon as she could, lest somebody should see her; and was sitting quietly again, alone as before, when one of the sailors whom she had never spoken to, came by, and leaning over towards her with a leer as he pa.s.sed, said ?
”Is this the young English gentleman's little sweet-heart?”