This Man's Wife Part 78

"Not quite!"

Julia started round with a cry of joy, and placed her hands in those of the speaker.

"Mr Bayle?" she cried excitedly; "what a surprise!"

"You here?" cried Mrs Hallam hoa.r.s.ely.

"Yes," was the reply, given in the calmest, most matter-of-fact, half-laughing way, and as if it were merely a question of crossing a county at home. "Why, you two poor unprotected women, you did not think I meant to let you take this long voyage alone!"

Mrs Hallam drew a long breath and turned pale. She essayed to speak, but no words would come, and at last with a spasm seeming to contract her brow, she turned to gaze appealingly at her child.

"But you are going back?" said Julia, and she, too, seemed deeply moved.

He shook his head, and smiled.

"How good--how n.o.ble!" she began.

"Ah! tut! tut! little pupil; what nonsense!" cried Bayle merrily. "Why, here is Sir Gordon, who has done precisely the same thing." And the old baronet came slowly up, raising his straw hat just as Thisbe came hurriedly on deck to announce the discovery she had made, and found that she was too late.

VOLUME THREE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

NEW FACES--NEW FRIENDS.

"You may call it what you like, Mr Tom Porter, but I call it deceit."

"No," said Tom, giving his rough head a roll, as he stood with his legs very far apart, looking quite the sailor now, in place of the quiet body-servant of the St James's pantry. "No, my la.s.s, not deceit, reg'lar sea arrangement: sailing under sealed orders. Quite a reg'lar thing."

"It's the last thing I should have expected of Sir Gordon; and as to Mr Bayle, how he could keep it quiet as he did, and then all at once make his appearance off the coast of Spain--"

"After coming quietly on board at Plymouth, while you people were all shut up below out of the rough weather. Pooh! my la.s.s, it was all meant well, so don't show so much surf."

"Reason?" said Bayle smiling, as he sat aft with Mrs Hallam and Julia, Sir Gordon having gone to his cabin. "I thought if I proposed coming it would agitate and trouble you both, and as to what you have said, surely I am a free agent, and if it gives me pleasure to watch over you both, and to render you up safely at our journey's end, you cannot wish to deny me that."

The subject dropped, and as the days glided on in the pleasant monotony of a life at sea, when the sky smiles and the wind is fair, the position seemed to be accepted by Mrs Hallam as inevitable. She tried hard to shut herself away with Julia, but soon found that she must yield to circ.u.mstances. She appealed to Sir Gordon and to Christie Bayle, but each smiled as he gave her a few encouraging words.

"You trouble yourself about an imaginary care," the latter said. "Bear in mind that you are on your way to a settlement where sins against the Government are often condoned, and you may rest a.s.sured that no one on board this vessel would be so cruel as to visit your unhappy condition upon your innocent heads."

"But I would far rather be content with Julie's company, and keep to our cabin."

"It is impossible," said Bayle. "It is like drawing attention to yourself. Be advised by me: lead the quiet regular cabin life, and all will be well."

Mrs Hallam shook her head.

"No," she said. "I am afraid. I am more troubled than I can say."

She gazed up in Bayle's eyes, and a questioning look pa.s.sed between them. Each silently asked the other the same question: "Have you noticed that?"

But the time was not ripe for the question to be put in its entirety, and neither spoke.

The weather continued glorious from the time of the fresh grey dawn, when the tip of the sun gradually rose above the sea, on through the glowing heat of noon, when the pitch oozed from the seams, and outside the awnings the handrails could not be touched by the bare hand. Then on and on till the pa.s.sengers a.s.sembled in groups to see sky and water dyed with the refulgent hues that dazzled while they filled with awe.

It was at these times that Mrs Hallam and Julia stole away from the other groups, to be followed at a distance by Bayle, who stood and watched them as they gazed at the setting sun. For it seemed to mother and daughter like a sign, a foretaste of the glory of the land to which they were going, and in the solemnity and silence of the mighty deep, evening by evening they stood and watched, their privacy respected by all on board, till lamps began to swing here and there beneath the awning, and generally Lieutenant Eaton came to ask Mrs Hallam to play or Julia to sing.

"Bayle," Sir Gordon would say, with the repet.i.tion of an elderly and querulous man, "you always seem to me like a watch-dog on the look-out for intruders."

"I am," said Bayle laconically.

"Then why, sir, confound you! when the intruders do come, don't you seize 'em, and shake 'em, and throw 'em overboard?"

"I'm afraid I should do something of the kind," replied Bayle, "only I must have cause."

"Cause? Well, haven't you cause enough, man?"

"Surely no. Everybody on board, from the captain to the humblest seaman, has a respectful smile for them as he raises his cap."

"Of course he has," cried Sir Gordon testily.

"Then why should the watch-dog interfere?"

"Why? Isn't that soldier fellow always making advances, and carrying them off to the piano of an evening?"

"Yes; and it seems, now the first trouble has worn off, to give them both pleasure. Surely they have had their share of pain!"

"Yes, yes," cried Sir Gordon; "but I don't like it; I don't like it, Bayle."

"I have felt the same, but we must not be selfish. Besides, we agreed that they ought to a.s.sociate with the pa.s.sengers during the voyage."

Sir Gordon's face grew full of puckers, as he drew out and lit a cheroot, which he smoked in silence, while Bayle went to the side and gazed at the black water, spangled with the reflected stars that burned above in the vast bejewelled arch of heaven.

"I don't like it," muttered Sir Gordon to himself, "and I don't understand Bayle. No," he continued after a pause, "I cannot ask him that. Time settles all these matters, and it will settle this."

From where he sat he could, by turning his head, gaze beneath the awning looped up like some great marquee. Here, by the light of the shaded lamps, the pa.s.sengers and officers gathered night after night as they sailed on through the tropics. At times there would be a dance, more often the little tables would be occupied by players at some game, while first one lady and then another would take her place at the piano.

There were other eyes beside Sir Gordon's watching beneath the awning, and a signal would be given by a low whistle whenever Julia was seen to approach the instrument. Then a knot of the soldiers and sailors would collect to listen to her clear thrilling voice as she sang some sweet old-time ballad. It was always Philip Eaton who pressed her to sing, led her to the piano, and stood over her, holding a lamp or turning over the leaves. He it was, too, who was the first to applaud warmly; and often and often from where he leaned over the bulwarks listening, too, Bayle could see the ingenuous girlish face look up with a smile at the handsome young officer, who would stay by her side afterwards perhaps the greater part of the evening, or he would lead her to where Captain Otway was lolling back, talking to Mrs Captain Otway, a handsome, fas.h.i.+onable-looking woman, who seemed to win her way day by day more and more to the friends.h.i.+p of Millicent Hallam.

At such times Sir Gordon would sit alone and fume, while Bayle watched the black, starlit water, closing his eyes when Julia sang or Mrs Hallam played some old piece, that recalled the doctor's cottage at King's Castor.

Afterwards he would turn his head and look beneath the awning sadly--the warm, soft glow of the swinging lamp lighting up face after face, which then seemed to fade away into the shadow.

He was strangely affected at such times. Now it was the present, and they were at sea; anon it seemed that he was leaning over the rustic seat in the doctor's garden, and that was not the awning and the quarterdeck, but the little drawing-room with the open windows. Time had not glided on; and in a curious, dreamy fas.h.i.+on, that did not seem to be Julia, the child he had taught, but Millicent; and that was not Lieutenant Eaton leaning over her, but Robert Hallam.

Then one of the shadows on the awning would take a grotesque resemblance to little Miss Heathery, to help out the flights of fancy; and Bayle would listen for the tinkling notes of the piano again, and feel surprised not to hear a little bird-like voice piping "Gaily the troubadour."

Next there would be a burst of merry conversation, and perhaps a laugh; and as Bayle turned his head again to gaze half wonderingly, the lamp-light would fall, perhaps, upon the faces of mother and daughter, the centre of the group near the piano.

Christie Bayle would begin to study the stars once more, as if seeking to read therein his future; but in vain, for he gazed down where they were broken and confused in the dark waters, sparkling and gliding as they were repeated again below, deep down in the transparent depths, where phosph.o.r.escent creatures glowed here and there.

"I can't make him out," Sir Gordon would often say to himself.