One Maid's Mischief Part 16

"But I shall not be left alone," he cried, excitedly. "I shall bitterly regret parting from this dear old home; but I am not so old that I could not make another in a foreign land."

"Oh! Henry Bolter," protested the little lady, "it must not be!"

"But it must," said her brother, taking her in his arms, and kissing her tenderly. "There are other reasons, Mary, why I should like to go. I need not explain what those reasons are; but I tell you honestly that I should like to see this distant land."

"Where natural history runs mad, Arthur," cried the doctor, excitedly.

"Hurrah!"

"Oh, Arthur!" cried his sister, "you cannot mean it. It is to please me."

"And myself," he said, quietly. "There; I am in sober earnest, and I tell you that no greater pleasure could be mine than to see you two one."

"At the cost of your misery, Arthur."

"To the giving of endless pleasure to your husband and my brother," said the Reverend Arthur, smiling; and before she could thoroughly realise the fact, little quiet Miss Mary Rosebury was sobbing on the doctor's breast.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

ON THE VOYAGE.

In these busy days of rail and steam, supplemented by their quick young brother electricity, time seems to go so fast that before the parties to this story had thoroughly realised the fact, another month had slipped by, another week had been added to that month, the Channel had been crossed, then France by train, and at Ma.r.s.eilles the travellers had stepped on board one of the steamers of the French company, the _Messageries Maritimes_, bound for Alexandria, Aden, Colombo, Penang, and then, on her onward voyage to Singapore and Hong Kong, to drop a certain group of her pa.s.sengers at the mouth of the Darak river, up which they would be conveyed by Government steamer to Sindang, the settlement where Mr Harley, her Britannic Majesty's Resident at the barbaric court of the petty Malay Rajah-Sultan Murad had the guidance of affairs.

It was one of those delicious, calm evenings of the South, with the purple waters of the tideless Mediterranean being rapidly turned into orange and gold. Away on the left could be seen, faintly pencilled against the sky, the distant outlines of the mountains that shelter the Riviera from the northern winds. To the right all was gold, and purple, and orange sea; and the group seated about the deck enjoying the comparative coolness of the evening knew that long before daybreak the next morning they would be out of sight of land.

There were a large number of pa.s.sengers; for the most part English officials and their families returning from leave of absence to the various stations in the far East; and as they were grouped about the s.p.a.cious quarter-deck of the sumptuously-fitted steamer rapidly ploughing its way through the sun-dyed waters, the scene was as bright and animated as painter could depict.

Gentlemen were lounging, smoking, or making attempts to catch the fish that played about the vessel's sides without the slightest success; ladies were seated here and there, or promenading the deck, while other groups were conversing in low tones as they drank in the soft, sensuous air, and wondered how people could be satisfied to exist in dull and foggy, sunless England, when nature offered such climes as this.

"In another half-hour, Miss Perowne, I think I shall be able to show you a gorgeous sunset, if you will stay on deck."

The speaker was a tall, fair man by rights, but long residence in the East had burned his skin almost to the complexion of that of a Red Indian. He was apparently about forty, with high forehead, clear-cut aquiline features, and the quick, firm, searching look of one accustomed to command and master men.

He took off his puggree-covered straw hat as he spoke, to let the cool breeze play through his hair, which was crisp and short, but growing so thin and spa.r.s.e upon the top that partings were already made by time, and he would have been looked upon by every West-end hair-dresser as a suitable object to be supplied with nostrums and capillary regenerators galore.

"Are the sunsets here very fine?" said Helen, languidly, as she lay back in a cane chair listlessly gazing through her half-closed eyes at the glittering water that foamed astern, ever widening away from the churning of the huge propeller of the s.h.i.+p.

"Very grand some of them, but nothing to those we shall show you in the water-charged atmosphere close to the equator. Ah, Miss Stuart, come here and stop to see the sunset. You grieve me, my child," he added, smiling, and showing his white teeth.

"Grieve you, Mr Harley, why?" said Grey, smiling.

"Because I feel as if I were partner in the crime of taking you out to Sindang to turn that fair complexion of yours brown."

"Grey Stuart is very careless about such things," said Helen, with languid pettishness. "How insufferably hot it is!"

"Well," said Mr Harley, laughing, "you are almost queen here already, Miss Perowne; everyone seems to const.i.tute himself your slave. Shall we arm ourselves with punkahs, and waft sweet southern gales to your fair cheeks?"

"Here! Hi, Harley!" cried the brisk voice of Dr Bolter from the forward part of the vessel.

"'Tis the voice of the male turtle-dove," said Mr Harley, laughing.

"He is separated from his mate. Have I your permission to go, fair queen?"

Helen's eyes opened widely for a moment, and she darted an angry look at the speaker before turning away with an imperious gesture, when, with a meaning smile upon his lip, Neil Harley, Her Britannic Majesty's Political Resident at Sindang, walked forward.

"That man irritates me," said Helen, in a low, angry voice. "I began by disliking him; I declare I hate him now!"

"Is it not because you both try to say sharp-edged words to each other, Helen?" said Grey Stuart, seating herself by her schoolfellow's side, and beginning to work. "Mr Harley is always very kind and nice to me."

"Pah! He treats you like a child!" said Helen, contemptuously.

"Well," said Grey, smiling in her companion's face, "I suppose I am a child to him. Here comes Mr Rosebury."

"I wish Mr Rosebury were back in England," said Helen, petulantly. "He wearies me with his constant talk about the beauties of nature. I wish this dreadful voyage were over!"

"And we have hardly begun it, Helen," said Grey, quietly; but noticing that her companion's face was flushed, she said, anxiously, "Are you unwell, dear?"

"Unwell? No."

There was something strange in Helen's behaviour, but she had the skill to conceal it, as the newly-appointed chaplain of Sindang came slowly up and began to talk to Helen in his dry, measured way, trying to draw her attention to the beauty of the evening, but without avail, for she seemed _distraite_, and her answers were sometimes far from pertinent to the subject in question.

Just then Mrs Doctor Bolter came bustling up, looking bright, eager, and full of animation.

She darted an uneasy look at her brother, and another at Helen, which was returned by one full of indifference, almost defiance, as if resenting the little lady's way, and Mrs Bolter turned to Grey Stuart.

"Where is my husband, my dear?" she said. "I declare this s.h.i.+p is so big that people are all getting lost! Oh! here he comes! Now there-- just as if there were no sailors to do it--he must be carrying pails of water!"

For the little doctor came panting along with a bucket of water in each hand, the Resident walking by his side till the two vessels were plumped down in front of Helen's chair.

"Now, my dear Harry, what are you doing?" began the little lady, in tones of remonstrance.

"All right, my dear. Two pails full of freshly-dipped sea water. Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will close round, I will show you some of the marvels of creation."

As quite a little crowd began to collect, many being ladies, at whom the little doctor's wife--only a few days back elderly Miss Rosebury-- directed very sharp, searching glances, especially when they spoke to her husband, Helen rose with a look of annoyance from her chair and began to walk forward.

She was hesitating about going farther alone, when a low voice by her ear said, softly:

"Thank you, Miss Perowne. Suppose you take my arm? We will walk forward into the bows."

"Mr Harley!" said the lady, drawing back, with her eyes full of indignation.

"I think I was to show you the beauty of the sunset," he said. "We can see it so much better from the bows, and," he added, meaningly, "I shall have so much better an opportunity to say that which I wish to say."

"What you wish to say, Mr Harley?"

"Yes," he replied, taking her hand, drawing it quickly through his arm, and leading her down the steps.

"I wish to return, Mr Harley," she said, imperiously.