Luttrell Of Arran Part 103

"What can it be?"

"Just what you said a minute ago. There! I'll wait for them. I'll slack off and let them come up."

Whatever might have been the rebukeful tone of Miss Courtenay's voice a few moments before, now, as the boat drew up beside Luttrell's, her tones were softened and subdued, and it was with her most silvery accent she told Ada that some visitors had just arrived, and begged her to return with her to receive them, while Mr. M'Kinlay would join Mr.

Luttrell, and obtain the lesson in sea-fishing he was so eager for.

"Come along," said Harry. "It looks fresh outside, and may turn out a nice mackerel day, calm as it seems here."

"With your good leave, Sir, I shall decline a nice mackerel day. I'm a very fair-weather sailor."

A hurried whisper from Georgina seemed, however, to arrest him in his excuses, and she added aloud: "Of course Mr. Luttrell has no intention of venturing out to sea farther than you like, Sir. He goes for your pleasure and amus.e.m.e.nt, and not to educate you for the Navy."

Another hurried whisper followed this pert speech, and poor M'Kinlay, with the air of a condemned man, stepped into Luttrel's boat with a heavy sigh, and a look of positive misery.

"No, no, not on any account," were the last words of Ada into Harry's ear, as he helped her to her place.

"Remember, we dine at six!" said Georgina, as she waved them an adieu; and young Luttrell cried out, "All right!" as he slacked off his sheet, and let the boat run broad and full towards the open sea.

"It _is_ fresher, far fresher than I thought!" said M'Kinlay, whose transition from a row-boat to a sailing one imparted the impression of a strong breeze.

"Cat's-paws! light airs of wind that die away every moment! But I see it looks bluer out yonder, and now and then I see a white curl on the water that may mean a little wind."

"Then I beseech you, Sir, let us keep where we are!"

"Don't you want me to teach you something about fishing? You said you wished to know what 'trawling' meant."

"Not to-day; not on this occasion, my young friend. It was another errand brought me here this morning. Could you not draw that thing a little closer, and do something to make us go somewhat steadier?"

"I'll close haul, if you prefer it," said Harry, taking a strong pull at the sheet, and, with his helm hard up, sending the skiff along under a full wind. She leaned over so much, too, that it required all M'Kinlay's strength, with both arms outside the gunwale, to keep his position.

"That's pleasanter, ain't it?" asked Harry.

"I'll not say I like it, either."

"You will when the wind steadies; it's squally just now, and she feels it, for she has no keel."

"No keel! And ought she to have a keel?"

"Well, I think she'd be the better of one," said Harry, smiling.

"Let us get back, Sir--let us get back at once! This is the reverse of agreeable to me. I don't understand, and I don't enjoy it. Put mc ash.o.r.e anywhere, and leave me to find my way how I can. There--yonder, where you see the rocks--land me there!"

"If I tried it, you'd find your way sure enough, but it would be into the next world! Don't you see the white line there? Those are breakers!"

"Then turn back, Sir, I command, I implore you," cried he, with a voice shaking with terror.

"I'll put about when the wind slackens. I can't do it just yet. Have a little patience. Take the rudder a moment."

"No, Sir; I refuse--I decidedly refuse. I protest against any share in what may happen."

"Perhaps it will be past protesting if you don't do what I tell you.

Hold this, and mind my orders. Keep the tiller so till I cry out hard down; mind me, now--no mistake." And not waiting for more, he sprang into the bow of the boat as she ran up into the wind, and held out the foresail to the breeze. "Down helm--hard down!" cried he; and round she spun at once, and so rapidly, that the lee gunwale went under water, and M'Kinlay, believing she had upset, uttered one wild cry and fell senseless into the bottom of the boat. Not much grieved at his condition--perhaps, on the whole, almost glad to be rid of his company--Harry lighted a cigar and steered for sh.o.r.e. In less than half an hour they gained the slack water of the little bay, and M'Kinlay, gathering himself up, asked if they were nigh land.

"Close in; get up and have a cigar," said Harry, curtly.

"No, Sir; I will not."

"I thought you liked a weed," said Harry, carelessly.

"My likings or my dislikings must be matter of perfect indifference to you, Sir, or I should not be wet to the skin and shivering as I am now."

"Take a go of brandy, and you'll be all right," said Harry, throwing his flask to him.

Though not very graciously offered, M'Kinlay accepted the dram, and then looked over the side towards the sh.o.r.e with an air of greater contentment. "Considering, Sir, that I came here to-day on _your_ account, I think I might have been treated with somewhat more deference to my tastes," said he, at last.

"On _my_ account? And in what way on _my_ account?"

"If we are not likely to have any more storms of wind, I can perhaps tell you."

"No, no, it's still as a fishpond here. Go on."

"Before I go on--before I even begin, Mr. Luttrelle I must have your promise that you will not mention to any one what shall pa.s.s between us to-day. It is on a subject which concerns _you_--but still concerns others more nearly."

"All right. I'll not speak of it."

"You will give me your word?"

"I _have_ given it. Didn't you hear me say I'd not speak of it?"

"Well, Sir, the matter is this: Great uneasiness is being felt here at the intimacy that has grown up between you and Miss Vyner. Motives of extreme delicacy towards _you_--who, of course, not having lived much in the world, could not be expected to weigh such considerations--but motives of great delicacy, as I say, have prevented any notice being taken of this intimacy, and a hope has been felt that you yourself, once awakened to the fact of the long interval that separates _her_ condition from _yours_, would soon see the propriety, indeed the necessity, of another line of conduct, and thus not require what may seem an admonition, though I really intend you should receive it as the warning counsel of a friend."

"Have you been commissioned to say this to me?" asked Luttrell, haughtily.

"Though I had decided with myself not to answer any questions, I will reply to this one--and this only. I have."

"Who gave you this charge?"

M'Kinlay shook his head, and was silent.

"Was it Sir Gervais Vyner?"

Another shake of the head was the reply.

"I thought not. I am certain, too, it was not Lady Vyner. Be frank, Sir, and tell me candidly. It was Miss Courtenay employed you on this errand?"

"I really see no necessity for any explanation on my part, Mr. Luttrell.

I have already transgressed the limits of mere prudence in the avowal I have made you. I trust you will be satisfied with my candour."

"Let me ask for a little more of that same candour. I want to know what is expected of me. What I am to do?"