Capt'n Davy's Honeymoon Part 17

"Good-by, mate," said Davy, absently.

"Good luck to you and a second fortune," said Lovibond.

"d.a.m.n the fortune," said Davy, under his breath.

Then there was another whistle from the "Snaefell."

"Capt'n Davy! Capt'n Davy!" cried Willie Quarrie.

"Coming," answered Davy. But still he stood at the top of the ferry steps, holding Lovibond's hand, and looking into his face.

Then there came a loud voice from the bridge of the steamer--"Steam up!"

"Capt'n! Capt'n!" cried Willie from the bottom of the steps.

Davy dropped Lovibond's hand and turned to look across the harbor. "Too late," he said quietly.

"Not if you'll come quick, Capt'n. See, the last gangway is up yet,"

cried Willie.

"Too late," repeated Davy, more loudly.

"Just time to do it by the skin of your teeth, Capt'n," shouted the ferryman.

"Too late, I tell you," thundered Davy, sternly.

Meanwhile there was a great commotion on the other side of the harbor.

"Out of the way there!" "All ash.o.r.e!" "Ready?" "Ready!" "Steam up--slow!" The last bell rang. The first stroke of nine was struck by the clock of the tower; one echoing blast came from the steam whistle, and the "Snaefell" began to move slowly from the quay. Then there were shouts from the deck and adieus from the sh.o.r.e. "Good-by!" "Good-by!"

"Farewell, little Mona!" "Good-by, dear Elian Vannin!" Handkerchiefs waving on the steamer; handkerchiefs waving on the quay; seagulls wheeling over the stern; white churning water in the wake; flag down; and harbor empty.

"She's gone!"

Lovibond smiled behind a handkerchief, with which he pretended to wipe his big mustache. Willie Quarrie looked helplessly up the ferry steps.

Davy gnashed his teeth at the top of them.

After a moment Davy said, "No matter; we can take the Irish packet at nine, and catch the Pacific boat at Belfast. Willie," he shouted, "put the luggage in the shed for the Belfast steamer. We'll sail to-night instead."

Then the three parted company, each with his own reflections.

"The Capt'n done that a-purpose," thought Willie.

"He'll keep my engagement for me at eight o'clock," thought Lovibond.

"I wouldn't have believed it of her if the Dempster himself had swore to it," thought Davy.

CHAPTER IX.

At half-past seven that night the iron pier was a varied and animated scene. A band was playing a waltz on the circle at the end; young people were dancing, other young people of both s.e.xes were promenading, lines of yet younger people, chiefly girls in short frocks, but with the wagging heads and sparkling eyes of one type of budding maidenhood, were skipping along arm-in-arm, singing s.n.a.t.c.hes of the words set to the waltz, and beating a half-dancing time with an alternate sc.r.a.pe and stroke of the soles of their shoes upon the wood floor on which they walked. The odor of the brine came up from below and mingled with the whiffs of Mona Bouquet that swept after the young girls as they pa.s.sed, and with the puffs of tobacco smoke that enveloped the young men as they dawdled on. Sometimes the revolving light of the lights.h.i.+p in the channel could be seen above the flash and flare of the pier lamps, and sometimes the dark water under foot gleamed and glinted between the open timbers of the pier pavement, and sometimes the deep rumble of the sea could be heard over the clash and clang of the pier band.

Lovibond was there, walking to and fro, feeling himself for the first time to be an old fellow among so many younger folks, watching the clock, counting the minutes, and scanning every female form that came alone with the crink-crank-crick through the round stile of the pay-gate.

Not until five minutes to eight did the right one appear, but she made up for the tardiness of her coming by the animation of her spirits.

"I couldn't get away sooner," whispered Jenny. "She watched me like a cat. She'll be out in the grounds by this time. It's delicious! But is he coming!"

"Trust him," said Lovibond.

"O, dear, what a meeting it will be!" said Jenny.

"I'd love to be there," said Lovibond.

"Umph! Would you? Two's company, three's none--you're just as well where you are," said Jenny.

"Better," said Lovibond.

The clock struck eight in the tower.

"Eight o'clock," said Lovibond, "They'll be flying at each other's eyes by this time."

"Eight o'clock, twenty seconds!" said Jenny. "And they'll be lying in each other's arms by now."

"Did she suspect?" said Lovibond.

"Of course she did!" said Jenny. "Did he?"

"Certainly!" said Lovibond.

"O dear, O dear!" said Jenny. "It's wonderful how far you can fool people when it's to their interest to be fooled."

"Wonderful!" said Lovibond.

They had walked to the end of the pier; the band was playing--

"Ben-my-chree!

Sweet Ben-my-chree, I love but thee, sweet Mona."

"So our little drama is over, eh?" said. Jenny.

"Yes; it's over," said Lovibond.

Jenny sighed; Lovibond sighed; they looked at each other and sighed together.

"And these good people have no further use for us," said Jenny.

"None," said Lovibond.