Prince Charlie Part 33

"Four hours off yet."

"Then I shall have time to write to your sister myself."

"What--in four hours? Bold adventurer! If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, again. Your bravery unmans me! Excuse these tears!"

"Clear out of this cabin, d.i.c.k, and leave me to myself. I want to write."

"What! For four hours? I'll be hanged if you do! Four hours of letter from a man in your condition would prove deadly to the woman receiving it. I won't be party to such inhumanity."

"Will you go out?"

"No, I won't! I paid the s.h.i.+p people for half this cabin, and I'm going to a.s.sert my rights.... Keep off, Prince Charlie. If you put a finger on me I'll have you tried by court-martial, and sentenced to walk the plank!"

"Will you leave peaceably then?"

"No, I won't; keep off!"

d.i.c.k was thoroughly enjoying the situation now; his face was one huge beaming grin as he continued:

"Besides, I am going to write a letter myself. To my sister, warning her against the introduction of a lunatic into the family. She has been good to me, and I shall take this opportunity of making some return for it."

"You wrote your letter to her this morning on deck with the stub of a pencil. Go and write the other the same way."

"Shan't! Can't: want ink. Couldn't describe your vile character in pencil; such labour necessitates ink: black ink."

"Out you go!"

"Keep off!... If you evict me from my cabin--I believe you are a woild Oirish landlord in disguise, you spalpeen--I'll sue you for damages, and have you hanged at the yard arm."

"Out you go!"

That time the boy's dodging ended in failure; his laughter rather handicapped him. The other, laughing triumphantly, caught, struggled with and pushed him out of the cabin. Clapping the door to, bolted it.

Then Masters sought again his berth, intending to indulge in a little castle-building: aerial kind. d.i.c.k's tattooing on the door-panels with his fists eliciting no reply, he bent and shouted through the keyhole:

"You bushranging brigand! You buccaneering bandit! You blood-thirsty old skull-and-cross-bones, you! I've just remembered that this is piracy!

Piracy on the high seas! I'm going straight to the Captain to get the handcuffs polished up. I'll make it my business to see you go back to England in irons. Put that in your pipe and smoke it."

With that he retired--to the accompaniment of a shrilly whistled Rule Britannia and a tramp as of soldiers. Masters was left the opportunity of writing his love-letter.

He came out of the land of dreams. Sat down at the table, and drew paper and pen towards him, implements of his trade. Spent time in looking at the paper, pen in hand, but no words were formed.

It seemed strange that a man who for many years had gained a living by dexterous juggling with words should be unable to shape them now. But they would not come, to his satisfaction.

"What can I say on paper," he thought, "which will exhibit my awakened conscience? Will be sufficiently contrite and penitent to appeal to her?

Nothing! Half the meaning of a letter lies in the reading of it. She would be justified, fully justified, from her present point of view, if she were to throw it into the fire without reading it at all."

A look of gloom settled on his countenance; he asked himself:

"What right have I to write to her at all?--after the way in which I insulted her? To apologise on paper is the act of a coward. I must go to her, and hear her contempt of me. I deserve it."

He did not write his letter after all.

CHAPTER XXVI

AS SOBER AS A JUDGE

That determination of his, to wait, was a hard thing for Masters to adhere to. He knew it was a wholesome resolve; at the same time the pill was very bitter: uncoated kind.

It is so much easier to do things on the spur of the moment; courage is an unbidden lieutenant then. Later on the aid must consciously be gathered together.

Curiously enough, Masters experienced pleasure in making the way hard for himself; there was no attempt to boil the peas before putting them in his shoe. It seemed more just to her whom he had wronged, this penance: a flagellation of his soul, as it were.

"She must witness my utter, abject humility," he reflected. "Must hear my prayer for forgiveness of my doubt of her. My sorrow must be seen; I can't paint it in pen and ink. Whatever I wrote--oh, the voice is mightier than the pen!--she might refuse to forgive me. Besides, if she is forewarned, knows I intend seeking her, she may even refuse to see me. I won't give her the chance; I won't write at all."

That was his decision; the result of half-an-hour's close thought and the consumption of three pipes of tobacco. Then he sought his companion on deck. Braced himself up for the interview, rightly guessing the manner in which he would be a.s.sailed.

"Hullo!" d.i.c.k grinned. "What have you come up on deck for--inspiration?

Think to infuse a sea-kissed salty air in your correspondence? I wouldn't lose any of that four hours if I were you. How many quires of my superfine cream-laid vellum note paper have you consumed so far? I know you haven't got any of your own."

"Not a sheet."

"Eh?"

"I have changed my mind."

"I deny the possibility of that! You haven't a mind to change!"

"I am not going to write a letter at all."

"What! After all this fuss too! Well, I am--there! After those absolutely brutal and unprovoked a.s.saults on me too! Truly has the mountain laboured!"

"What I have to say shall be uttered orally."

"I doubt that! If my sister takes the advice I have given her in this letter, you'll never have a chance of getting within earshot. I have told her that you are the most violent, headstrong, ferocious, wrathful savage I ever met; that you are coming home. I have advised her to flee from the wrath to come."

"You are incorrigible, d.i.c.k."

"I like that! For pure and adulterated cheek, that annexes Huntley & Palmers' entire factory! I am viciously a.s.saulted by a rabid lunatic. I am deprived of the use of ink and paper purchased with my own hard coin.

I am thrown out of my cabin. And the man guilty of these foul crimes coolly stands in front of me with a pipe and a jeering remark in his mouth. Incorrigible!"

"My dear old d.i.c.k----"

Masters commenced a speech so; putting his hand on the boy's shoulder affectionately. He was interrupted by the cry of: