by Charles King
wooing. But he, this time, alluded to the artificial citylife that the old Laird had to lead, he who never before during his oldage had been out of sight of the waving pines and the bonnie bloomingheather.
Fletcher was very eloquent to-day. Love makes one so. Yet his wooingwas strangely like that of Auld Robin Grey, especially when he finishedplaintively, appealingly, with the words:
"Oh, Annie, for his sake will you not marry me?"
Annie o' the Banks o' Dee wept just a little, then she wiped her tearsaway. He took her hand, and she half-whispered: "What must be_must_--'tis fate."
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
THE "WOLVERINE" PUTS OUT TO SEA.
With the exception of the _Sunbeam_, probably no more handsome steamyacht ever left Southampton Harbour than the _Wolverine_. She was allthat a sailor's fancy could paint.
Quite a crowd of people were on the quay to witness her departure on hervery long and venturesome cruise. Venturesome for this reason, that,though rigged as a steam barque, she was but little over four hundredtons register.
Seamen on shore, as they glanced at her from stem to stem, alow andaloft, criticised her freely. But Jack's opinion was on the whole wellembodied in a sentence spoken by a man-o'-wars-man, as he hitched up hisnether garments and turned his quid in his mouth:
"My eyes, Bill and Elizabeth Martin, she is a natty little craft! I'vebeen trying to find a flaw in her, or a hole, so to speak, but there'sne'er a one, Bill--above water, anyhow. Without the steam she remindsme of the old Aberdeen clippers. Look at her bilge, her lines, herbows, her jibboom, with its smart and business-like curve. Ah, Bill,how different to sail in a yacht like that from living cooped up in ablooming iron tank, as we are in our newest-fashioned man-o'-warteakettles! Heigho! Blowed if I wouldn't like to go on board of her!Why, here is the doctor--splendid young fellow!--coming along the piernow. I'll overhaul him and hail him. Come on, Bill!"
Reginald Grahame was coming somewhat slowly towards them. It was just aday or two before the discovery of Craig Nicol's murder and the findingof his body in the wood.
Reginald was thinking of Bilberry Hall and Annie o' the Banks o' Dee.Sorrow was depicted in every lineament of his handsome but mobile andsomewhat nervous countenance. Was he thinking also of the cold, stiffbody of his quondam friend Craig, hidden there under the dark sprucetrees, the tell-tale knife beside him? Who can say what the innermostworkings of his mind were? Some of the most bloodthirsty pirates of oldwere the handsomest men that ever trod the deck of a ship. We can judgeno man's heart from his countenance. And no woman's either. There beshe-devils who bear the sweet and winning features of saints. OurScottish Queen Mary was beautiful, and as graceful as beautiful.
"If to her share some human errors fall, Look in her face, and you'll forget them all."
"Beggin' yer pardon, sir," said Jack, touching his hat and scraping abit, like a horse with a loose shoe, "we're only just two bloomingbluejackets, but we've been a-admiring of your craft--outside like.D'ye think, sir, they'd let us on board for a squint?"
"Come with me, my lads. I'll take you on board."
Next minute, in company with Reginald--who was now called _Dr._--Grahame, they were walking the ivory-white decks. Those two honestman-o'-war sailors were delighted beyond measure with all they saw.
"Why," said Jack--he was chief spokesman, for Bill was mute--"why,doctor, you have _sailors_ on board!--and mind you, sir, you don't findreal sailors nowadays anywhere else except in the merchant service. Webluejackets are just like our ships--fighting machines. We ain't heartsof oak any longer, sir."
"No," said the doctor, "but you are hearts of iron. Ha! here comes thepostman, with a letter for me, too. Thank you, postie."
He gave him sixpence, and tore the letter open, his hand shakingsomewhat. Yes, it was from Annie. He simply hurriedly scanned it atpresent, but he heaved a sigh of relief as he placed it in his bosom.Then he rejoined the bluejackets.
"Well, sir, we won't hinder you. I see you've got the Blue Peter up.But never did I see cleaner white decks; every rope's end coiled, too.The capstan itself is a thing o' beauty; all the brasswork looks likegold, all the polished woodwork like ebony; and, blow me, Bill, justlook at that binnacle! Blest if it wouldn't be a beautiful ornament fora young lady's boodwar (boudoir)! Well, sir, we wishes you a pleasant,happy voyage and a safe return. God bless you, says Jack, andgood-bye."
"Good-bye to you, lads; and when you go to war, may you send the foe tothe bottom of the ocean. There,"--he handed Jack a coin as hespoke--"drink _bon voyage_ to us."
"Ah, that will we!"
The sailors once more scraped and bowed, and Reginald hurried below toread Annie's letter. It was just a lover's letter--just such a letteras many of my readers have had in their day--so I need not describe it.
Reginald sat in his little cabin--it was only six feet square--with hiselbow leaning on his bunk, his hand under his chin, thinking, thinking,thinking. Then an idea struck him. The skipper of the yacht--called"captain" by courtesy--and Reginald were already the best of friends.Indeed, Dickson--for that was his name--was but six or seven years olderthan Reginald.
"Rat-tat-tat!" at the captain's door. His cabin was pretty large, andright astern, on what in a frigate would be called "the fighting deck."This cabin was of course right abaft the main saloon, and had a privatestaircase, or companion, that led to the upper deck.
"Hullo, doctor, my boy!"
"Well, just call me Grahame, _mon ami_."
"If you'll call me Dickson, that'll square it."
"Well, then, Dickson, I'm terribly anxious to get out and away to sea.If not soon, I feel I may run off--back to my lady love. When do wesail for sure?"
The captain got up and tapped the glass.
"Our passengers come on board this afternoon, bag and baggage, andto-morrow morning early we loose off, and steam out to sea--if it be aday on which gulls can fly."
"Thanks, a thousand times. And now I won't hinder you."
"Have a drop of rum before you go, and take a cigar with you."
Reginald's heart needed keeping up, so he did both.
"When I am on the sea," he said, "I shall feel more happy. Ay, butAnnie, I never can forget you."
More cheerily now, he walked briskly off to the hotel to meet hispatients. There were two, Mr and Mrs Hall, wealthy Americans;besides, there were, as before mentioned, Miss Hall and the child Matty.They were all very glad to see Reginald.
"You are very young," said Mr Hall, offering him a cigar.
"I think," he answered, "I am very fit and fresh, and you will find mevery attentive."
"I'm sure of it," said Mrs Hall.
Little Matty took his hand shyly between her own two tiny ones.
"And Matty's su'e too," she said, looking up into his face.
They say that American children are thirteen years of age when born. Iknow they are precocious, and I like them all the better for it. Thischild was very winning, very pert and pretty, but less chubby, and moreintellectual-looking than most British children. For the life of himReginald could not help lifting her high above his head and kissing herwee red lips as he lowered her into his arms.
"You and I are going to be good friends always, aren't we?"
"Oh, yes, doc," she answered gaily; "and of torse the dleat (great) big,big dog."
"Yes, and you may ride round the decks on him sometimes."
Matty clapped her hands with joy.
"What a boo'ful moustache you has!" she said.
"You little flatterer!" he replied, as he set her down. "Ah! you haveall a woman's wiles."
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Everything was on board, and the _Wolverine_ was ready to sail thatnight. But the captain must go on shore to see his friends and bid themadieu first.
The night closed in early, but the sky was studded with stars, and athree-days'-old moon shone high in the west like a scimitar of gold.This gave
Reginald heart. Still, it might blow big guns before morning,and although he sat up pretty late, to be initiated by Mr Hall into thegame of poker, he went often to the glass and tapped it. The glass wassteadily and moderately high. Reginald turned into his bunk at last,but slept but little, and that little was dream-perturbed.
Early in the morning he was awakened by the roar of steam getting up.His heart leaped for joy. It is at best a wearisome thing, this beingidle in harbour before sailing.
But at earliest dawn there was much shouting and giving of orders; themen running fore and aft on deck; other men on shore casting
