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Chicago Princess

<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2></div> I walked the deck alone, the revolver stuck between my hip and my gaudy sash, as if I were a veritable pirate, and doubtless my appearance was not dissimilar to some of those nautical heroes who have been terrors of the sea. A pirate more dissatisfied with himself never trod a quarter-deck. If there had been a plank at hand I would willingly have walked it. It was no comfort that I despised the girl, for I despised myself a thousand times more. What right had I to interfere? Why had I not bowed to her when she ordered me away from the piano, and come at once on deck, without proffering any of my foolish explanations? The whole disgraceful row had arisen through my contemptible efforts to justify a situation which allowed of no justification. The piano was hers, as she truly said, and I had no more right to touch it than I had to wear her jewellery. My sole desire at first was to get ashore as soon as anchor was dropped, and never again see either father or daughter. But a few moments’ reflection showed me the quandary into which I had brought myself. I was already indebted to the old gentleman, not only for the money he had advanced to me, but for his kindness from the very first, which I had repaid by an interference in his family affairs that made me loathe myself. Never before had I felt so102 acutely the sting of poverty. Not even in my starvation days at Nagasaki had my lack of means borne so heavily upon me. It was utterly impossible for me to refund a penny of the pounds he had so generously bestowed upon me. The only requital in my power was that of honest service to him, and now I had made my stay on the yacht impossible, when, had I retained a modicum of sanity at the proper moment, I might have withdrawn with no loss of dignity. Now my own self-respect was gone, and I had more than justified every bitter taunt she flung at me. So, in a very hopeless state of misery and dejection, I walked up and down the deck until Mr. Hemster himself came quietly up the companion-way and took his usual place in his wicker chair, setting his heels upon the rail in front of him, and biting off the end of a cigar. He gave me no greeting, but this also was usual with him, and so it meant nothing one way or another. However, I had at last made up my mind on a course of action, so I strode over to where he sat, and he looked up at me with what I took to be more of apprehension than censure in his gaze. It was no matter of wonder to me that he must be seriously doubting his wisdom in taking on board without recommendation a stranger who had just proved himself such a brawler. “Mr. Hemster,” said I, “an apology is a cheap method of trying to make amends for what is inexcusable; but I should like to tell you, and I should like you to believe, how sorry I am for my conduct of a short time since. I regret to say it is impossible for me to return the money you have advanced. When I103 first had the pleasure of meeting you, I stated to you quite truthfully that I was at the end of my resources, and of course my prospects have not improved in the mean time, except in so far as your own favour is concerned, and that, I quite realize, I have forfeited. From this time until we sight land, I shall live forward with the crew in the forecastle, and shall not again come aft except in obedience to your orders. When we reach Corea I am entirely at your disposal. If you wish me to carry out the project you have in hand, I shall do so to the best of my ability; if not, I give you my word I will refund to you the money as soon as I can earn it.” “Sit down,” he said very quietly, and when I had done so he remained silent, gazing over the rail at the distant horizon for what seemed to me a very long time. Then he spoke, never raising his voice above the level at which he always kept it. “You are a little excited just now,” he said, “and take an exaggerated view of the matter. Do you think any one on deck heard that pistol-shot?” “I don’t know; I rather imagine not. No one seemed at all on the alert when I came up.” “Well, it sounded as if it would raise all creation down below, but perhaps it didn’t make such a racket up here. Now, if you went forward and lived with the crew, what would be the effect? They would merely say we made it impossible for you to live aft. I suppose by rights I shouldn’t mind what my crew thinks or says; but I do mind it. We are in a way a small democracy afloat, one man as good as another. If the104 firing were heard on deck, then the captain will be joking about it at luncheon time, and we’ll know. If it wasn’t, the least said about it the better. If you don’t like to come to meals, I haven’t a word to say; you can have them served in your own room. As for the money I advanced, that doesn’t amount to anything. I am sure you are just the man I want for what there is to do, and when that’s done it will be me that’s owing you money. I’m a good deal older than you, and I have found that in business a man must keep his temper, or he’s going to give all his adversaries a great advantage over him, and things are cut so close nowadays that no one can afford to give points to his rival. I’ve had to control my temper or be a failure, so I controlled it. My daughter hasn’t had to do that. Instead of blaming her, you should blame me. It’s my temper she’s got.” “My dear Mr. Hemster, I assure you I am blaming neither of you; I am blaming myself.” “Well, that’s all right. It’s a good state of Christian feeling and won’t do you any harm. Now you said that when we land you are willing to do anything I ask. Are you willing to do that before we go ashore?” “Yes, Mr. Hemster, any command you may lay upon me I shall execute without question.” “Oh, I won’t lay a command on you at all; but I ask as a favour that you go below, knock at my daughter’s door, and tell her you are sorry for what has happened. Put it any way you like, or don’t do it at all if you don’t want to. After all, she is a woman, you105 know. You and I are men, and should stand the brunt, even if we are not entitled to it, and it may make things go a little smoother, perhaps.” We are supposed to be an unemotional race, but I confess that the old man’s mild words touched me deeply, and made it next to impossible for me to reply to him. But, even so, my own judgment told me that a life of this desire to make things go smoothly had resulted in building up a character in his daughter which took an obstreperous advantage of the kindly old gentleman’s strong affection for her. I arose without a word, thrust forward my hand to him, which he shook somewhat shamefacedly, glancing nervously around, fearing there might be onlookers. I entirely appreciated his reserve, and wished for a moment that I had not acted upon my impulse, to his visible embarrassment. I went instantly to the saloon, along the passage, and knocked at the door of Miss Hemster’s apartment. She herself opened the door, with what seemed to me to be her usual briskness; but when I looked at her, I saw her drooping like a stricken flower, head bent, and eyes on the floor. Scarcely above a whisper, she asked with tremor-shaken voice: “Did you wish to see me?” “Yes, Miss Hemster,” I replied, nerving myself to the point. “I wish, since you are good enough to receive me, to apologize most abjectly for my rudeness to you this morning.” She replied in a sad little voice, without looking up: “I do not really mind in the least how much you play the piano, Mr. Tremorne.” 106 This was so unexpected a remark, so ludicrously aside from the real point at issue between us, so far from touching the hideousness of my culpability, that I looked at the girl, wondering whether or not she was in earnest. I had not come to get permission to play the piano. Her attitude, to which no other word than “wilted” so appropriately applied, continued to be one of mute supplication or dependence. Yet in the semi-darkness I fancied I caught one brief glance at my face. Then she leaned her fair head against the jam of the door and began to cry very softly and very hopelessly. I stood there like the awkward fool I was, not knowing what to say; and finally she completed my desolation by slowly raising her two arms up toward my face. Since our contest she had removed the striking costume she then wore, and had put on a white lace fleecy garment that was partly dressing-gown, partly tea-gown, decorated with fluttering blue ribbon. This had very wide sleeves which fell away from her arms, leaving them bare and rounded, pure and white. Her two slender, shapely hands hung in helpless fashion from the wrists like lilies on a broken stem. The slow upraising of them seemed to me strange and meaningless, until the light from the inner room fell upon her wrists, and then the purport of her action became stunningly clear to me. Around that dainty forearm, delicately fashioned for the tenderest usage, showed red and angry the marks of my brutal fingers, silent accusers held up before my very eyes. Distraught as I was with self-accusation, I could not help admiring the dramatic effectiveness of the slow motion and resulting107 attitude. The drooping girl, with her soft, clinging draperies, her sad face so beautiful, her contour so perfect, and those soft appealing hands upraised,—hands that I could not forget had been placed with impulsive friendliness in mine on the streets of Nagasaki,—and all this accompanied by the almost silent symphony of quivering sobs that were little louder than sighs tremulously indrawn, formed a picture that has never been effaced from my memory. I had rather a man’s clenched fist had struck me to the ground than that a woman’s open palm should be so held in evidence against me. I regard that moment as the most unbearable of my life, and with a cry almost of despair I turned and fled. For once language had become impossible and utterly inadequate. As I beat this precipitate retreat, was it my over-wrought imagination, or was it actual, that I heard an indignant word of expostulation, followed by a low sweet ripple of laughter. Had there been some one else in the room during this painful interview? I staggered like a drunken man up to the deck, and then endeavoured to walk it off and cease thinking. Mr. Hemster said nothing to me that day, nor I to him, after I came on deck again. For an hour I strode the deck with an energy which, if applied in the right direction, would have driven the yacht faster than she was going. When the gong sounded for luncheon I went down to my own room and was served there. After the meal I did not go up on deck again, but sat on the sofa gloomily smoking. Later I got a novel from the library, and tried to interest myself in it, but108 failed. I felt physically tired, as if I had done a hard day’s work, and, unsentimental as it is to confess it, I fell asleep on the sofa, and slept until the gong for dinner aroused me. Dinner I also enjoyed in solitary state in my own apartment, then, under the brilliant cluster of electric lights, tried the novel again, but again without success. The nap in the afternoon made sleep improbable if I turned in, so I scarcely knew what to do with myself. I rather envied Silas K. Hemster’s reticence, and his seeming dislike for intercourse with his fellows. He was the most self-contained man I had ever met, preferring the communion of his own thoughts to conversation with any one. At this crisis of indecision the way was made plain for me by the youth from Japan. There came a gentle tap at my door, and on opening it the Japanese boy said respectfully: “Sir, Miss Stretton would like to speak with you on deck.” <hr /> 109 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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