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Salthaven

Год написания книги
2018
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"Bandy wot?" ejaculated the choking Mr. Walters, as he bestowed an involuntary glower at the limbs in question.

"I can assure you I never said so," said Bassett; earnestly. "I never noticed before that they were bandy. And I never—"

An enormous fist held just beneath his nose stopped him in mad career.

"If you was only three foot taller and six or seven stone 'eavier," said the palpitating boatswain, "I should know wot to do with you.

"I assure you—" began Bassett.

"If you say another word," declared Mr. Walters, in grating accents, "I'll take you by the scruff of your little neck and drop you in the river. And if you tell any more lies about my young woman to a living soul I'll tear you limb from limb, and box your ears arter-wards."

With a warning shake of the head at the gasping Bassett he turned to Miss Jelks, but that injured lady, with her head at an alarming angle, was already moving away. Even when he reached her side she seemed unaware of his existence, and it was not until the afternoon was well advanced that she deigned to take the slightest notice of his abject apologies.

"It's being at sea and away from you that does it," he said humbly.

"And a nasty jealous temper," added Miss Jelks.

"I'm going to try for a shore-berth," said her admirer. "I spoke to Mr. Vyner—the young one—about it yesterday, and he's going to see wot he can do for me. If I get that I shall be a different man."

"He'd do anything for Miss Joan," said the mollified Rosa thoughtfully, "and if you behave yourself and conquer your wicked jealous nature I might put in a word for you with her myself."

Mr. Walters thanked her warmly and with a natural anxiety regarding his future prospects, paid frequent visits to learn what progress she was making. He haunted the kitchen with the persistency of a blackbeetle, and became such a nuisance at last that Miss Hartley espoused his cause almost with enthusiasm.

"He is very much attached to Rosa, but he takes up a lot of her time," she said to Robert Vyner as they were on their way one evening to Tranquil Vale to pay a visit to Captain Trimblett.

"I'll get him something for Rosa's sake," said Robert, softly. "I shall never forget that she invited me to breakfast when her mistress would have let me go empty away. Do you remember?"

"I remember wondering whether you were going to stay all day," said Joan.

"It never occurred to me," said Mr. Vyner in tones of regret. "I'm afraid you must have thought me very neglectful."

They walked on happily through the dark, cold night until the lighted windows of Tranquil Vale showed softly in the blackness. There was a light in the front room of No. 5, and the sound of somebody moving hurriedly about followed immediately upon Mr. Vyner's knock. Then the door opened and Captain Trimblett stood before them.

"Come in," he said heartily. "Come in, I'm all alone this evening."

He closed the door behind them, and, while Mr. Vyner stood gazing moodily at the mound on the table which appeared to have been hastily covered up with a rather soiled towel, placed a couple of easy chairs by the fire. Mr. Vyner, with his eyes still on the table, took his seat slowly, and then transferring his regards to Captain Trimblett, asked him in a stern vein what he was smiling at Joan for.

"She smiled at me first," said the captain.

Mr. Vyner shook his head at both of them, and at an offer of a glass of beer looked so undecided that the captain, after an uneasy glance at the table, which did not escape Mr. Vyner, went to the kitchen to procure some.

"I wonder," said Robert musingly, as he turned to the table, "I wonder if it would be bad manners to—"

"Yes," said Joan, promptly.

Mr. Vyner sighed and tried to peer under a corner of the towel. "I can see a saucer," he announced, excitedly.

Miss Hartley rose and pointing with a rigid fore-finger at her own chair, changed places with him.

"You want to see yourself," declared Mr. Vyner.

Miss Hartley scorned to reply.

"Let's share the guilt," continued the other. "You shut your eyes and raise the corner of the towel, and I'll do the 'peeping'."

The return of the unconscious captain with the beer rendered a reply unnecessary.

"We half thought you would be at number nine," he said as the captain poured him out a glass.

"I'm keeping house this evening," said the captain, "or else I should have been."

"It's nice for you to have your children near you," said Joan, softly.

Captain Trimblett assented. "And it's nice to be able to give up the sea," he said with a grateful glance at Vyner. "I'm getting old, and that last bout of malaria hasn't made me any younger."

"The youngsters seem to get on all right with Mrs. Chinnery," said Robert, eying him closely.

"Splendidly," said the Captain. "I should never have thought that she would have been so good with children. She half worships them."

"Not all of them," said Mr. Vyner.

"All of 'em," said the captain.

"Twins, as well?" said Mr. Vyner, raising his voice.

"She likes them best of all," was the reply.

Mr. Vyner rose slowly from his chair. "She is a woman in a million," he said impressively. "I wonder why—"

"They're very good girls," said the captain hastily. "Old Sellers thinks there is nobody like them."

"I expect you'll be making a home for them soon," said Robert, thoughtfully; "although it will be rather hard on Mrs. Chinnery to part with them. Won't it?"

"We are all in the hands of fate," said the captain gazing suddenly at his tumbler. "Fate rules all things from the cradle to the grave."

He poured himself out a little more beer and lapsing into a reminiscent mood cited various instances in his own career, in confirmation. It was an interesting subject, but time was pressing and Mr. Vyner, after a regretful allusion to that part, announced that they must be going. Joan rose, and Captain Trimblett, rising at the same moment, knocked over his beer and in a moment of forgetfulness snatched the towel from the table to wipe it up. The act revealed an electro-plated salad-bowl of noble proportions, a saucer of whitening and some pieces of rag.

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