American fiction -- 19th century; Manners and customs -- Fiction
She evidently did not notice the quick flush that covered his cheeks
and apparently dazzled his troubled eyelid for she went on
confidentially.
"I was thinking of you yesterday. I was sitting by the galley door,
looking forward. You remember the first day I saw you when you
startled me by coming up out of the hatch?"
"I wish you wouldn't think of that," said Renshaw, with more
earnestness than he would have made apparent.
"I don't want to either," said Rosey, gravely, "for I've had a strange
fancy about it. I saw once when I was younger, a picture in a print
shop in Montgomery Street that haunted me. I think it was called 'The
Pirate.' There was a number of wicked-looking sailors lying around the
deck, and coming out of a hatch was one figure with his hands on the
deck and a cutlass in his mouth."
"Thank you," said Renshaw.
"You don't understand. He was horrid-looking, not at all like you. I
never thought of HIM when I first saw you; but the other day I thought
how dreadful it would have been if some one like him and not like you
had come up then. That made me nervous sometimes of being alone. I
think father is too. He often goes about stealthily at night, as if he
was watching for something."
Renshaw's face grew suddenly dark. Could it be possible that Sleight
had always suspected him, and set spies to watch--or was he guilty of
some double intrigue?
"He thinks," continued Rosey with a faint smile, "that some one is
looking around the ship, and talks of setting bear-traps. I hope
you're not mad, Mr. Renshaw," she added, suddenly catching sight of his
changed expression, "at my foolishness in saying you reminded me of the
pirate. I meant nothing."
"I know you're incapable of meaning anything but good to anybody, Miss
Nott, perhaps to me more than I deserve," said Renshaw with a sudden
burst of feeling. "I wish--I wish--you would do ME a favor. YOU asked
me one just now." He had taken her hand. It seemed so like a mere
illustration of his earnestness, that she did not withdraw it. "Your
father tells you everything. If he has any offer to dispose of the
ship, will you write to me at once before anything is concluded?" He
winced a little--the sentence of Sleight, "What's the figure you and
she have settled upon?" flashed across his mind. He scarcely noticed
that Rosey had withdrawn her hand coldly.
"Perhaps you had better speak to father, as it is HIS business.
Besides, I shall not be here. I shall be at the Ranch."
"But you said you didn't want to go?"
"I've changed my mind," said Rosey listlessly. "I shall go to-night."
She rose as if to indicate that the interview was ended. With an
overpowering instinct that his whole future happiness depended upon his
next act, he made a step towards her, with eager outstretched hands.
But she slightly lifted her own with a warning gesture, "I hear father
coming--you will have a chance to talk BUSINESS with him," she said,
and vanished into her state-room.
VI
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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