Part 28 (2/2)
Breitmann and the admiral usually worked from ten till luncheon, unless it was too stormy; and then the admiral took the day off. The business under hand was of no great moment; it was rather an outlet for the admiral's energy, and gave him something to look forward to as each day came round. Many a morning he longed for the quarter-deck of his old battle-s.h.i.+p; the trig crew and marines lined up for inspection; the revelries of the foreign ports; the great manoeuvres; the target practice. Never would his old heart swell again under the full-dress uniform nor his eyes sparkle under the plume of his rank. He was retired on half-pay. Only a few close friends knew how his half-pay was invested. There remained perhaps ten of the old war-crew, and among them every Christmas the admiral's half-pay was divided. This and his daughter were the two unalloyed joys of his life.
Since his country had no further use for him, and as it was as necessary as air to his lungs that he tread the deck of a s.h.i.+p, he had purchased the _Laura_; and, when he was not stirring up the bones of dead pirates, he was at Cowes or at Brest or at Keil or on the Hudson, wherever the big fellows indulged in mimic warfare.
”That will be all this morning, Mr. Breitmann,” he said, rising and looking out of the port-hole.
”Very well, sir. I believe that by the time we make Corsica we shall have the book ready for the printers. It is very interesting.”
”Much obliged. You have been a good aid. As you know, I am writing this rubbish only because it is play and pa.s.sable mental exercise.”
”I do not agree with you there,” returned the secretary, with his pleasant smile. ”The book will be really a treasure of itself. It is far more interesting than any romance.”
The admiral shook his head dubiously.
”No, no,” Breitmann averred. ”There is no flattery in what I say.
Flattery was not in our agreement. And,” with a slight lift of the jaw, ”I never say what I do not honestly mean. It will be a good book, and I am proud to have had a hand, however light, in the making.”
The admiral chuckled. ”That is the kind of flattery no man may shut his ears to. It has been a great pleasure to me; it has kept me out-of-doors, in the open, where I belong. Come in, Laura, come in.”
The girl stood framed in the low doorway, a charming picture to the old man and a lovely one to the secretary. She balanced herself with a hand on each side of the jam.
”Father, how can you work when the sun is so beautiful outside? Good morning, Mr. Breitmann,” cordially.
”Good morning.”
”Work is over, Laura. Come in.” The admiral reached forth an arm and caught her, drawing her gently in and finally to his breast.
Breitmann would have given an eye for that right. The picture set his nerves twitching.
”I am not in the way?”
”Not at all,” answered the secretary. ”I was just leaving.” And with good foresight he pa.s.sed out.
”A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,” murmured the admiral.
”Fudge!” and she laughed.
”We are having a fine voyage.”
”Splendid! Why is it that I am always happy?”
”It is because you do not depend upon others for it, my dear. I am happy, too. I am as happy as a boy with his first boat. But never has a s.h.i.+p gone slower than this one of mine. I am simply crazy to drop anchor in the Gulf of Ajaccio. I find it on the tip of my tongue, every night at dinner, to tell the others where we are bound.”
”Why not? Where's the harm now?”
”I don't know, but something keeps it back. Laura,” looking into her eyes, ”did we ever cruise with brighter men on board?”
”What is it you wish to know, father?” merrily. ”You dear old sailor, don't you understand that these men are different? They are men who accomplish things; they haven't time to bother about young women.”
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