Miss Dexie: A Romance of the ProvincesEveleth, Stanford
General
Miss Dexie: A Romance of the Provinces
Eveleth, Stanford
Fiction
"Yes; but perhaps I shall get myself into some scrape if I take you away,"
and a smile lit up his face for a moment. "How came you here? Are you here
against your will?"
"Yes, and no. Take me off quickly, and I'll explain," she replied,
hurriedly, for a movement below reached her ears.
She was soon seated opposite her deliverer, who looked at her curiously,
but said nothing till they were quite a distance from the vessel; then,
resting on his oars, he said:
"Now, tell me how you came to be on that vessel; but, first, will you tell
me your name?"
"Oh! must I--" and Dexie dropped her head.
"Well, you need not if you do not wish to. I know you, all the same, though
I have not heard your name. You are the 'American Warbler.' Now, tell me
your story."
"I hardly know how to tell it, though I don't mind you knowing about it.
There is so much to tell before you will understand how I came to be on the
vessel."
"Well, if it is all a secret, I'll promise not to tell anyone except my
wife. She might hear that I have been on the harbor with a young lady, so I
had better tell her myself," and he smilingly waited Dexie's explanation.
"Oh! since you are married, it will not be so hard to tell."
There was quite a pause. Where would she begin?
"Come, now, how did you come to be aboard the vessel?" he repeated.
"But I can't tell you _how_ until I have told you _why_," said she, trying
to control her voice, "so I must tell you all that happened this
afternoon," and, beginning from the time that Hugh prevented her from
joining her sister on the wharf, she told the story of the afternoon,
though not without skilful questionings that made the matter clear, though
hardly comprehensible. She gave no names, but mentioned Hugh as "the young
gentleman."
"You have had quite an adventure, Miss--," and he looked up thinking she
would supply the name, but she smiled and shook her head.
"Miss Jonathan, then; you must have some name for my wife to know you by,"
he added, smilingly. "Now, I don't think you did a very wise thing when you
got on a strange craft for safety. It was all right as it happened, but it
might not have happened all right. However, you are safely out of the
scrape; still, if I am not mistaken in the young man, he thinks too much of
you to really harm you."
"Do you think you know who it was?" and she looked up with a flushed face.
"Well, I suppose it was the same chap that whistled with you at the
concert, wasn't it!"
"No, indeed! I suppose I must tell you more, after all. You don't
understand the half of it yet. It was one who was, at one time, my sister's
lover, or so I thought, but he--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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