Geoffrey Hamstead Part 10

"Take a new deal."

"Got any more toasts like this?"

"Oh, I would like a smoke soon. Hurry up, Jack."

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said Jack, banging on the table to quell the tumult; "I will skip over the objectionable words, and propose that we drink to the health of one who has been unable to be with us to-day, and who needs our a.s.sistance; who perhaps at this moment is suffering untold troubles far from our midst. Ladies and gentlemen, have you charged your gla.s.ses?"

Answers of "Frequently."

"Well, then," said Jack, as he stood with a bottle in one hand and a gla.s.s in the other, "I ask you to drink with me to the health of 'The Chaperon,' who is nigh unto death."

All stood up, and were loudly echoing, "The Chaperon--nigh unto death!"

when a long hand came down the skylight overhead and a voice was heard from on high, saying:

"Nothing of the kind. How dare you, you bad boy? Just put something into my hand and I'll drink my own health. I don't need your a.s.sistance at all."

Cheers broke out from the noisy gathering, and they all rushed on deck to see Mrs. Dusenall drink her own health, which she bravely accomplished.

They were a riotous lot. All the boat wanted was a policeman to keep them in something more like order, for a small joke received too much credit with them, and they laughed too easily.

Frenchman's Bay and Whitby were pa.s.sed before they came up from lunch.

Oshawa could be seen far away on the sh.o.r.e, as the yacht buzzed along with unabated speed. A speck on the horizon had risen up out of the sea to be called Raby Head--the sand-bluff near Darlington. Small yellow and green squares on the far-off brown uplands that rolled back from the sh.o.r.es denoted that there were farms in that vicinity; dark-blue spots, like feathery tufts, appeared here and there where the timber forests had been left untouched, and among them small marks or lines of white would occasionally appear where, on looking through the gla.s.ses, little railway trains seemed to be toiling like ants across the landscape.

There was no ceremony to be observed, nor could it be seen that anybody endeavored to keep up conversations which required any effort. The men, lounging about on the white decks, seemed to smoke incessantly while they watched the water hissing along the sides of the vessel, or lay on their backs and watched the masthead racing with the white clouds down the lake, and the girls, disposed on cushions, tried to read novels and failed. The sudden change to the fresh breezes of the lake, and the long but spirited rise and fall of the vessel made them soon doze away, or else remain in that peaceful state of mind which does not require books or masculine society or music, or anything else except a continuation of things just as they are. Granby and Newcastle were mentioned as the yacht pa.s.sed by, but most of the party were drowsy, and few even raised their heads to see what little could be seen. Port Hope created but feeble interest, though the Gull Light, perched on the rocks far out in the lake, appeared romantic and picturesque. It seemed like true yachting to be approaching a strange lighthouse sitting like a white seabird on the dangerous-looking reefs, where the waves could be seen dashing up white and frothy.

Somewhere off Port Hope, about three or four miles away from the "Gull,"

one of the sailors had quietly remarked to the man at the wheel:

"We're a-goin' to run out of the wind."

Margaret was interested in this, wondering how the man knew. Far away in front and to the eastward could be seen a white haze that obliterated the horizon, and, as the yacht bore down to the Gull Light, one could see that beyond a certain defined line stretching across the lake the bright sparkle and blueness of the waves ceased, and, beyond, was a white heaving surface of water, without a ripple on it to mark one distance from another. It seemed strange that the wind blowing so freshly directly toward this calm portion of the lake should not ruffle it. The yacht went straight on before the wind at the same pace till she crossed the dividing line and pa.s.sed with her own velocity into the dead air on the other side. The sails, out like wings, seemed at once to fill on the wrong side, as if the breeze had come ahead, and this stopped her headway. She soon came to a standstill. Every person at once awoke--feeling some of that numbness experienced in railway trains when, after running forty miles an hour for some time, the brakes are suddenly put on.

For half an hour the yacht lay within pistol-shot of the dancing, sparkling waves, where the breeze blew straight toward them, as far as the mysterious dividing line, and then disappeared. The spinnaker was taken in, and the yacht, regardless of the helm, "walloped" about in all directions, as the swells, swashing against the bow, or pounding under the counter, turned her around. This was unpleasant, and might last all night, if "the calm beat back the wind," as the sailors say, so Charley sent out the crew in the two boats, which were lowered from the davits, to tow the yacht into Cobourg, now about three miles away. The main-sheet was hauled flat aft to keep the main-boom quiet, and soon she had steerage way on.

To insure fine weather at home one must take out an umbrella and a water-proof. On the water, for a dead calm, sending the boats out to tow the yacht is as good as a patent medicine. Before very long the topsail seemed to have an inclination to fill on one side more than on the other, so one boat was ordered back and a club-gaff-topsail used in races was sent aloft to catch the breath moving in the upper air. This sail had huge spars on it that set a sail reaching a good twenty-five feet above the topmast head, and about the same distance out from the end of the gaff. It was no child's-play getting it up, and the sailors'

chorus as they took each haul at the halyards attracted some attention.

Perhaps no amateur can quite successfully give that break in the voice peculiar to a professional sailor when hauling heavily on a rope. And then the interjections:

"O-ho! H'ister up."

"Oh-ho! Up she goes."

"O-ho! R-Raise the dead."

"Now-then-all-together-and-carry-away-the-mast, O-ho!" etc.

Some especial touches were put on to-day for the benefit of the ladies, and when the man aloft wished those on deck to "sheet home" the big topsail, the rascal looked down at Margaret and called "sea foam!" In the forecastle she was called "Sea Foam" during the whole trip, not because she wore a dress of cricketing flannel, but on account of her former mistake in the words. To Rankin and some others who saw the little joke, the idea seemed poetical and appropriate.

Not more than a breath of wind moved aloft--none at all below--but it proved sufficient to send the yacht along, and about half-past six in the evening they slipped in to an anchor at Cobourg, fired a gun, and had dinner.

CHAPTER IX.

Ah, what pleasant visions haunt me As I gaze upon the sea!

All the old romantic legends, All my dreams, come back to me.

Sails of silk and ropes of sendal, Such as gleam in ancient lore; And the singing of the sailors, And the answer from the sh.o.r.e.

Till my soul is full of longing For the secret of the sea, And the heart of the great ocean Sends a thrilling pulse through me.

LONGFELLOW.

Nothing tends to convince us of the element of chance in our lives more than noticing the consequences of whims. We act and react upon each other, after joining in a movement, till its origin is forgotten and lost. A politician conceives a whim to dazzle a fighting people with a war, and the circ.u.mstances of thousands are unexpectedly and irretrievably altered. We map out our lives for ourselves, and propose to adhere to the chart, but on considering the effects of chance, one's life often seems like an island upheaved from the sea, on which the soil, according to its character, fructifies or refuses the seeds that birds and breezes accidentally bring.

Our yachting cruise seemed to be like this. One evening when Nina was dining at the Dusenalls', Charley had proposed the trip in an idle sort of way. Nina fastened on the idea, and during little talks with Mrs.

Dusenall, induced her to see that it might be advantageous for her daughters to make a reality of the vague proposal.

In thus providing opportunity for sweet temptation, Nina was not deceiving herself so much as formerly, and she knew that her feeling for Geoffrey was deep and strong. But she would morally bind herself to the rigging and sail on without trouble while she listened to the song as well. Would not Jack be with her always to serve as a safeguard? Dear Jack! So fond of Jack! Of course it would be all right. And then, to be with Geoffrey all the time for two or three weeks! or, if not with him, near enough to hear his voice! After all, she could not be any _more_ in love with him than she was then. Where was the harm?

Margaret's presence on the yacht, if at times rather trying, would certainly make an opening for excitement, and, on the whole, it would be more comfortable to have both Geoffrey and Margaret on the yacht than to leave them in Toronto together. This friendship between them--what did it amount to? She had a desire to know all about it--as we painfully pull the cot off a hurt finger, just to see how it looks.

For Geoffrey the trip promised to be interesting, and, having in the early days examined Cupid's armory with some curiosity, he tried to persuade himself that the archer's shafts were for him neither very keen nor very formidable. As Davidge used to say, "too much familiarity breeds despisery," and up to this time of his life it had not seemed possible for him to care for any one very devotedly--not even himself.

Yet Margaret Mackintosh, he thought, was the one woman who could be permanently trusted with his precious future. No one less valuable could be the making of him. He agreed with the Frenchman in saying that "of all heavy bodies, the heaviest is the woman we have ceased to love," and he hoped when married to be able to feel some of that respect and trust which make things different from the ordinary French experience. But when he thought of Margaret as his wife the thought was vague, and not so full of purpose as some of his other schemes. The mental picture of Margaret sitting near him by the fireside keeping up a bright chatter, or else playing Beethoven to him, the music sounding at its best through the puff-puff of a contemplative pipe, had not altogether dulled his appreciation of those pleasures of the chase, as he called them, over which he had wasted so much of his time. Moreover, he felt that it was altogether a toss-up whether she would accept him or not, and that he did not appeal to her quite in the same way that he did to other women.

This threw his hand out. If he wished her to marry him at any time, he thought he would have to put his best foot foremost, and tread lightly where the way seemed so precarious. He knew that she liked him very much as she would a work of art. It was a good thing to have a tall figure and clean-cut limbs, but it seemed almost pathetic to be ranked, as it were, with old china, no matter how full of soul the willow-pattern might be.

Now that Nina had fairly commenced the yachting cruise, she could be pleasant and jolly with Jack on board the boat, but when it came to leaving the ball-room at the Arlington for a little promenade with him on the verandas, the idea seemed slow and uninviting. After a dance, Jack moved away with her, intending to saunter out through one of the low windows.

"Don't you think it is pleasanter in here?" she said.

"Well, I find it a little warm here, don't you? Besides the moon is shining outside, and we can get a fine view of the lake from the end of the walk."

"But, my dear Jack, have we not been enjoying a fine view of the lake all day? You see I don't want every person to think that we can not be content unless we are mooning off together in some dark corner. It does not look well; now, does it?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I did not think you were so very careful of Mrs. Grundy. When did you turn over the new leaf? I suppose the idea did not occur to you that being out with Geoffrey for two or three dances might also excite comment."

Nina had already surveyed the lake to some extent during the evening under pleasing auspices, but she did not like being reminded of it, and answered hotly:

"How then, do you expect me to enjoy going to look at the lake again? I have seen the lake three times already this evening, and no person has made me feel that there was any great romance in the surroundings.

Surely you don't think that you would conjure up the romance, do you?"

"Evidently I would not be able to do that for you," said Jack slowly, while he thought how different her feelings were from his own. It galled him to have it placed before him how stale he had become to her. He conquered his rising anger, and said:

"I am afraid that our engagement had become very prosaic to you."