The Pines of Lory Part 2

II

FROTH OF THE SEA

An hour later, as the _Maid of the North_ was steaming for the open sea, the man from Africa and his new acquaintance formed a group on the after deck.

The day was a rare one, even for early June. Across the surface of the water--now a sparkling, joyful blue--the air came free and full of life.

This air was exhilarating. It inspired Father Burke to tell a funny anecdote, and he did it well. For not only did Father Burke possess a sense of humor, but his heavy, benevolent face, white hair, and deep voice gave unusual impressiveness to whatever he chose to utter. Even Mr. Appleton Marshall, a victim of acute Bostonia, eluded for a time his own self-consciousness. He soon went below, however, to revel, undisturbed, in a conservative local paper. Mr. Patrick Boyd,--or Pats, as we may as well call him,--being always of a buoyant spirit, added liberally to the general cheer.

The young lady regarded this addition to her party with a peculiar interest. She knew that the mention of his name in his own family was for years a thing forbidden. Just how bad he was, or how innocent, she had never learned. And now, as she studied, furtively, this exile of uncertain reputation, and as she recognized the open nature, the fort.i.tude, the tranquil spirit, all unmistakably written in his emaciated, sunburnt face, her curiosity was quickened. She knew that Sally, his elder sister,--her own intimate friend,--had persisted in a correspondence with her brother against her father's wishes. And that, perhaps, was in his favor. At least, he had a good mouth and honest eyes. His neck, his hands, and his legs were preternaturally thin, and she wondered if the gap between his collar and his throat told a truthful story of South African fever. If so, the change had been appalling. However, neither bullets nor fever had reduced his spirits.

The conversation touched on many things. When she happened to say that this was her first visit to the Boyds' Canadian house, he replied:

"And mine too."

"Have you never seen it?" she asked in surprise.

"Never. My father bought this place about ten years ago, and I have been away over thirteen years."

"I had forgotten you had been away so long."

With a smile and a slight inclination of his head, he replied:

"That you should know of my existence is a flattering surprise. Any mention of my name, I understand, was a state's prison offence until my father died."

"Not quite so bad as that."

"A man's fame is not apt to flourish when corked up in a bottle and laid away in a closet, with 'Poison' on the label."

Here was a chance to gratify a natural curiosity, and he seemed willing to throw light on the mystery. She was about to offer the necessary encouragement, when Father Burke took the conversation into less personal fields. It may have been the contagion of this young man's cheerfulness, or the reaction on the lady's part from an acute religious tension, but the priest had noticed Miss Marshall was awakening to a livelier enjoyment of her surroundings. The spontaneity and freedom of her laughter, on one or two occasions, had caused him a certain uneasiness. Not that Father Burke was averse to merriment. Too much of it, however, for this particular maiden and at this critical period, might cause a divergence from the Holy Roman path along which he now was escorting her. So he gave some interesting facts concerning this summer residence of the Boyds, winding up with the information that the hunting and fis.h.i.+ng, all about there, were unusual.

"But we women cannot hunt and fish all day!"

"Perhaps it's like Heaven," said Pats, "where there's nothing to do except to realize what a good time you are having."

"I hope that is not your idea of a woman's ambition."

"What better business on a summer's day?"

"Many things," replied the priest, "if she has a soul to expand and a mind to cultivate."

"But I was speaking of the natural, unvarnished woman we all enjoy and are not afraid of."

Miss Marshall, in a politely contemptuous manner, inquired, "Then, personally, you find the intelligent woman of high ideals less congenial than--the other kind?"

"I find the superior woman with a gift of language is a thing that makes brave men tremble. I think wisdom should be tempered with mercy."

After a pause, and with a touch of sarcasm, she replied:

"That is quite interesting. A fresh point of view always broadens the horizon."

Ignoring her tone, he answered in an off-hand, amiable way:

"Of course there is no reason why a woman should not enter politics or anything else, if she wishes. And there is no reason why a rose should not aspire to be a useful potato. But potatoes will always be cheaper than roses."

She smiled wearily and leaned back. As their eyes met he detected a look of disappointment--perhaps at her discovery of yet one more man like all the others, earthy and superficial. But she merely said, and in a gentle tone:

"You forget that while all men are wise, all women are not beautiful."

With a deep sigh he replied, "The profundity of your contempt I can only guess at. Whatever it is, I share it. We are a poor lot.

"'At thirty, man suspects himself a fool; Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.'

Which is all true except the last line."

She smiled. "You are too severe. I consider man the highest form of animal life--after the dog and the elephant."

"Then where does woman come in?"

"Oh--as man's satellite she is hard to place. Her proper position might be anywhere between the peac.o.c.k and the parrot."

Pats shook his head, slowly and sadly. "That's an awful utterance!"

"But it enables you to realize her vanity in aspiring to the wisdom of man."

Father Burke laughed. "Fighting the Boer, Captain Boyd, is a different thing from skirmis.h.i.+ng with the American girl."

"Indeed it is! For on the battle-field there is always one chance of victory. But I have not been fighting the Boers. I was trying to help the Boers against the English."

"Ah, good!" said the priest. "You were on the right side."

But the lady shook her head. "I don't know about that. I should have joined the English and fought against the Boers."

"But, my dear child," exclaimed Father Burke, "the cause of the Boers is so manifestly the cause of right and justice! They were fighting for their freedom,--the very existence of their country."

"Possibly, but the English officers are very handsome, and so stylis.h.!.+

And the Boers are common creatures--mostly farmers."

Pats regarded her in surprise. "That doesn't affect the principle of the thing. Even a farmer has rights."

"Principles are so tiresome!" and she looked away, as if the subject wearied her.

"Does it make no difference with your sympathies," he asked with some earnestness, "whether a man is in the right or in the wrong? Would you have had no sympathy for the Greeks at Marathon?"

She raised her eyebrows, and with a faint shrug replied, "I am sure I don't know. Was that an important battle?"

"Very."