I told him.
"Then, considering your age, all I can say is you talk very sensibly.
Let us walk, sir."
We started to measure the planks from the wheel to half-way the length of the p.o.o.p.
"There is no doubt," said I, "that you, as master of this vessel, are, as you have all along contended, empowered to marry me to Miss Bella.s.sys," and I then gave him the substance of what Mr. Higginson had said to me below.
"I knew that Higginson would see it after thinking a bit," said he.
"Of course, I am empowered to marry, on board my ship, any couple that may apply to me. Have you spoken to Miss Bella.s.sys?"
"I have."
"And is she agreeable?"
"Perfectly agreeable."
"Good!" said he with a chuckle. "Now, when shall it be?"
"Oh, it is for you to say, captain."
"Ten o'clock to-morrow morning do?"
"Very well, indeed," I answered, "but it will be quite private, Captain Parsons; it is Miss Bella.s.sys's wish."
"Private? Why private?" he exclaimed, in a voice of disappointment; "a wedding is an interesting sight, and I intended to admit the steerage pa.s.sengers. I had also seen my way to converting our usual lunch into a sort of wedding breakfast for you, and indeed I don't mind telling you, Mr. Barclay, that I've been amusing myself during the last half-hour in rehearsing several speeches."
"I can a.s.sure you, captain," said I, "that I fully appreciate all your goodness. But a public ceremony!--No, a quite private affair in your cabin, if you please."
We measured half the length of the deck in silence, and I almost dreaded to hear him speak. He then said:
"It seems a pity to rob the pa.s.sengers of an edifying sight. There are several couples in the steerage who ought to be married, and the example I counted upon offering them would be certain to take effect.
But of course--if it's the young lady's wish,--by the way, you'll forgive me asking the question: it's quite a matter of form--no rudeness intended--you are sure that your name is Barclay?"
"Quite sure."
"What Barclay?"
"Herbert," said I.
"Herbert Barclay!" said he, "and the young lady's name's genuine too?"
"Perfectly genuine, captain."
"Grace Bella.s.sys!" said he; "it sound a bit theatrical, don't it?"
"It is her name, nevertheless," said I laughing.
"You see, Mr. Barclay, if the names are wrong, the marriage is wrong."
"There'll be nothing wrong in this marriage," said I, "if the rights of it are to be dependent merely upon the genuineness of our names. But now, let me put this question to you: in officiating as you propose, will you not be accepting a certain legal risk?"
"As how?" he exclaimed.
"You will be marrying a young lady who is under age, knowing, as I repeat now, and was bound to tell you at the start, that her guardian objects to the alliance."
"There are no guardians at sea," he said, "in the sense of your young lady's aunt. I'm her guardian whilst she's aboard my ship, and as I said before, so I say again, I give my consent seeing the situation she's put herself in, and understanding that it's my duty to help her out of it."
I swallowed a laugh, and changed the subject by asking him to tell me about the couples he had married, and so in chatting, three-quarters of an hour pa.s.sed, at the expiration of which time I shook him by the hand and went to bed.
Mr. Tooth tried hard to keep me awake that he might satisfy his curiosity; he had vaguely heard I was to be married next day, and wished for the story of my elopement at first hand. But I was dog tired, and no sooner did my head press the pillows than I answered him with snores.
I slept right through the night, and when I awoke, Mr. Tooth was shaving himself, and the cabin was brilliant with sunshine whitened to a finer glory yet by the broad surface of milk-white froth that was rushing past the ship. There was plainly a n.o.ble sailing breeze blowing, and the vessel was lying well down to it, with a sort of humming and tingling throughout the whole body of her. I made haste to shave, fencing with Mr. Tooth's questions, as he plied them out of a mouth that yawned darkly amid the soapsuds with which he had covered his cheeks, and then hastened into the saloon to look for Grace and take her on deck. The good-humoured little stewardess, however, told me she was not yet up, though it wanted but twenty minutes to eight, on which I shot through the companion into the windy splendour of the grandest ocean morning that ever set a man fresh from his bed blinking.
The ship was heeling to it as a yacht might; her yards were braced forward, and the snow at her forefoot soared and blew away in smoke to the sliding irresistible thrust of her sharp metal stem. The sea for leagues and leagues rolled blue, foaming, brilliant; wool-like clouds, lovely with prismatic glitterings in their skirts, as they sailed from the sun, were speeding into the south-east. The whole life of the world seemed to be in that morning--in the joyous sweep of the blue wind, in the frolicsome frothing of each long blue ridge of rolling sea, in the triumphant speeding of the ship sliding buoyant from one soft foam-freckled hollow to another.
I drew a deep breath. Ha! thought I, if it were always like this now, and New Zealand not so distant.
But as I thus thought I sent my eyes to leeward, and the first thing I saw was a large steamer heading in an opposite direction, and undoubtedly going home. Our combined speed was making her look like to be pa.s.sing at the rate of forty or fifty miles an hour. I started, and stepped up to Mr. M'Cosh, who stood alone at the head of the p.o.o.p ladder.
"Isn't that vessel going home?" I cried.
He viewed her deliberately as though looking at her for the first time, then said, with his Scotch accent, which I will not attempt to repeat:
"I don't doubt it, sir."
"Then why not signal, Mr. M'Cosh? I may have to wait a long time for another opportunity."
"I thought, sir," said he, looking at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes, "that you were to be married this morning?"
"Oh! well," I exclaimed, seeing that any talk about the steamer would be of no use in the face of the swiftness with which a hull of about three thousand tons was diminishing to the proportions of a wherry; "Captain Parsons is all kindness and will have his way. But marriage or no marriage, Mr. M'Cosh, I hope he will give you and your brother officers instructions to signal the next vessel we pa.s.s, for we really want to get home, you know."
As I p.r.o.nounced these words the square little figure of the captain, crowned with a high hat, brushed as usual the wrong way, rose through the companion hatch. Mr. M'Cosh touched his cap and crossed to the other side of the deck. The captain gave me a friendly nod, and stood awhile to send a number of seawardly, critical glances aloft, and then round the ocean. I approached him and said, pointing to the steamer:
"There's a fine chance lost, captain."
"Lost?" cried he, "you mustn't be in a hurry yet, sir. There's your business to do first, sir."
"True," said I, "but it might help us to get home--in time--if you will instruct the officers under your command to communicate with any vessel sailing to England."
"I told Mr. M'Cosh not to communicate until you were married," he answered. "There'll be no lack of ships homeward bound, sir," and so saying he left me to go to the rail that protected the edge of the p.o.o.p where he stood surveying the scores of steerage pa.s.sengers which filled the main-deck, many of them, as they squatted or hung about here and there, eating their breakfasts, which seemed to me to consist of ship's biscuit and little tin pots of black tea.
I saw nothing of Grace till the cabin breakfast was ready; most of the first-cla.s.s pa.s.sengers had by this time a.s.sembled, some of them who had been sea-sick yesterday issuing from their cabins; and I noticed a general stare of admiration as my darling stepped forth followed by Mrs. Barstow. Her long and comfortable night's rest had returned her bloom to her. How sweet she looked! how engaging the girlish dignity of her posture! how bright her timid eyes as she paused to send a glance round in search of me! I was instantly at her side.
"The ceremony is fixed for ten, I think?" said Mrs. Barstow, and here Miss Moggadore arrived as one who had a right to be with us, not to say of us.
"Yes, ten o'clock," I answered. "But do these people know what is going to happen?"
"Oh, it will certainly have got about. A ship is like a village--the lightest whisper is everywhere echoed."