He looked down at her with meek, questioning eyes.
“Yes,” he said softly; “you began it.”
“I had a reason for doing so.”
“I know you had.”
This remark made her laugh in a slightly embarrassed way.
“I wanted,” she then explained, “to request you to take care of yourself—Theo.”
“I always do that,” he answered with some gravity; “I am not the sort of person to expose myself to unnecessary danger.”
“I am not quite sure of that,” she said in her searching way. “But, still, I should like to be able to tell Mrs. Wylie—later—that you promised to be careful. You see, her nerves will perhaps be a little shaken; she may be anxious.”
“I hope not,” he replied. “It would never do for anyone to be anxious about me. It is a thing I have always tried to avoid, and Mrs. Wylie says that she never troubles about me. It would spoil my nerve, Brenda … if I thought that there was somebody at home watching and waiting for news.”
She laughed suddenly in an almost defiant way, and the sound of her laughter was discordant in the silence only broken by a whispering breeze.
“And you would be nothing without nerve.”
“No,” he answered stupidly; “I should be nothing without nerve.”
“Although you never expose yourself to unnecessary danger? …”
She turned suddenly and left him. There was a boat slung high up on the davits, and, passing round it, she went and stood beside the rail with her hands resting on it. The boat hid her from the eyes of anyone on deck.
Trist walked aft, and stood for a moment beside the steersman in an indifferent attitude, with his hands in his pockets, looking aloft.
“I am afraid the wind is dropping,” he said.
“Yessir—it’s slackening a bit,” replied the man.
Then Trist slowly followed Brenda.
For a moment or two he stood behind her, and there seemed to be a dull tension in the very atmosphere. Then at last he spoke, in his soft, emotionless way.
“The wind is dropping,” he said; “and we cannot expect it to rise again before the sun comes up. Let us be practical and have some rest. Go to your stateroom and try to sleep. I will lie down for a couple of hours in the saloon.”
She did not answer at once. Then she turned and passed round the boat in the other direction, so that he did not see her face. Moving towards the companion, she answered him quietly.
“Yes—it will be better.”
No other word passed between them. She went below, and presently Trist followed her. He lay down on the cabin sofa, but did not sleep. He took up a novel instead, and read assiduously.
XI
A Commercial Transaction
By three o’clock in the morning Theo Trist was on deck again. The sun was already high up in the heavens; the morning air was fresh and invigorating.
Captain Barrow now did a strange thing. He took all sail off the Hermione and allowed her to drift on the rising tide towards Gudvangen. There was noticeable about the movements of the men a singular desire to avoid any noise whatsoever. Trist and the Captain moved about among them, here and there, helping noiselessly. The Captain gave his orders in a lowered voice. The carpenter was at his post forward by the cathead, but he awaited the order to let go the anchor in vain. All this was the result of instructions imparted by Trist to Captain Barrow.
“Put me ashore,” he had said, “before you let go the anchor. The ladies must not be awakened on any account. Let the men make as little noise as they can in lowering the boat and taking in sail.”
To a yacht’s crew such instructions were easy of comprehension. These are of different construction to the hardy mariners who man our passenger steamers. The latter gentry can not deign to lay a coil of rope or the brass nozzle of a hosepipe on the deck, at five a.m. All such things are cast violently and dragged backwards and forwards over the heads of the sleeping passengers in a frank, sailor-like way. Again, such members of the crew as possess a taste for mechanical engineering are at perfect liberty to take the cover off the donkey-engine and indulge in a few experimental and spasmodic revolutions during the smaller hours of the morning. These sounds impart a hearty and nautical feeling to the sleepers below decks, and serve to remind them that they are nationally of a seafaring turn. Being of a commercial spirit, I shall someday start a line of passenger steamers, carrying crews who do not wear sea-boots in tropical and dry latitudes, who can stoop to lay things down on deck, and do not work violently from five to six o’clock in the morning, so that the rest of the day may be spent in graceful leisure.
Captain Barrow had directed his mental researches more towards the vagaries of fickle ocean and wayward weather than to the question of human motives. Through a long and somewhat monotonous life the old mariner had not hitherto found the necessity of studying his fellow-men very closely. Able-bodied seamen are a class of beings who vary little in mental accomplishment or bias. Their bodies must be able; their minds are of secondary importance. Nevertheless, it occurred to him that Theo Trist was singularly anxious to get ashore without disturbing the ladies.
The boat was lowered noiselessly, and into it were thrown the young fellow’s portmanteau, creel and rods. Then Trist shook hands with the crew, the steward, and finally with Captain Barrow himself. This ceremony being performed with due solemnity, he threw his leg over the rail and prepared to jump into the boat, which was already manned. At this moment
