Prince Charlie Part 31

"Suppose I put you to the test? If I ask you to marry your girl, will you do it?"

"No!"

d.i.c.k answered with a laugh. Despite the anxiety of which he was so full, he could not resist a feeling of amus.e.m.e.nt at the request; added emphatically:

"I most certainly will not."

Up surged the blood again; anger came into the eyes which flashed so; almost blinded their owner. A step forward, and he seized d.i.c.k by the shoulders; held him so firmly, as in a vice.

"Tell me." He was speaking from a throat the dryness of which made it hoa.r.s.e. "After the way in which you have behaved to her--tell me why you refuse to marry her?"

d.i.c.k looked at his companion doubtfully; had not a trace of anger in doing so. Felt that in dealing with him the truth was the only thing; said:

"Refuse to marry her? Why, you confounded old idiot, you! How on earth can a fellow marry his own sister?"

"SISTER!"

Just the one word--he almost screamed it--that was all Masters could utter. He started away and released his hold. Fell back against the door, in the intensity of his astonishment, clutching wildly, unfeelingly, at the panels for support.

d.i.c.k's anxiety rapidly gained strength; he became more alarmed than ever. Formed the idea now that this was no pa.s.sing faintness, but that Masters was seriously ill. Was even afraid to leave him standing there against the door, for fear he should fall. Suddenly, flinging off his coat, he cried:

"You're stronger than I am, and I guess I'll get the worst of it, but here goes."

He stood threateningly in front of the much bigger man, the light of determination in his eyes; continued:

"Will you lie down on that bunk and let me fetch you the doctor? Refuse, and as sure as I stand here I shall try my hardest to make you."

Masters pressed his hands to his aching, throbbing forehead. His mind was whirling so, that it was no wonder he staggered. His brain did not seem able to hold the blend: could not contain so much happiness and so much condemnation of himself, for his unutterable foolishness. True to his threat, d.i.c.k advanced; Masters warded him off.

"Don't, d.i.c.k! Just a moment, old fellow.... I don't want a doctor. What you have just said has done me more good than a syndicate of all the doctors in the world could effect."

He laughed weakly, foolishly: by no means a confidence-inspiring laugh.

The mirth, if such it could be called, and the change of tone were even more disturbing to the listener.

"What have I said? Here, Prince, you are going off your nut, old man; that's what's the matter with you! I thought it when you began this game, but I didn't like to say so; I must now. Sitting in the sun so much has given you a mild attack of sunstroke. If you've any feeling that you would like to knock me about, now's your time to indulge it; for I am going to try to make you come away from that door."

"d.i.c.k! My dear boy! I a.s.sure you I am all right! All I want is a talk----"

"Talk! Great Scott! Have you done anything else? This has been like a tabbies' tea-fight! There's been enough chatter to keep a tree-full of monkeys going! Talk! Christopher Columbus! It's been a perfect Niagara of jaw!"

"There, I'll lie in my bunk if it will please you, d.i.c.k."

"It's that, or sudden death from a blow of this ought-to-be brawny arm!

Money or your life was never uttered more seriously than I am talking.

The doctor----"

"Don't go for the doctor, d.i.c.k, please. I don't need him. I am all right now."

"I've only your word for that; I may tell you that your face doesn't lend any confirmation! You look as if you'd lost your seven senses and couldn't say Bo! to a goose! Are you better?... Really? Honour bright?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Tell me, d.i.c.k, if she is your sister, who is Gracie?"

It looked like a turning of the tables! Was d.i.c.k's turn to start and exhibit surprise. His was the wide-open-eyed-and-mouthed type of astonishment; showed plainly in his face; deception was a thing unknown to him. A moment's wondering silence; then he inquired:

"Who's Gracie? How the d.i.c.kens did you know there was any Gracie? Why, she's her kid, of course; my little niece!"

At that the man in the bunk laughed. Almost his old hearty ringing laugh again. But even yet it retained a tone of wildness; he cried:

"Blind! Blind! Blind! What a cra.s.s idiot; what a senseless fool I have been!"

d.i.c.k scratched his head; these sudden changes of mood were too much for him; said:

"Well, you certainly _are_ behaving in first-prize-gold-medal idiotic fashion! But the puzzle to me is, how the deuce did you know anything about little Gracie?"

"Know about her? I actually know her! Good heavens! How clear it all seems now."

"Does it? That's all right! I may be permitted to remark that our ideas on opaqueness would be likely to differ!"

"It was she--oh, d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k! Don't you understand?"

"How can I help doing so--when you are so lucid! You brainless old firework, you; let off some more crackers."

"d.i.c.k! d.i.c.k! It was she, she who christened me Prince!"

"What! Why, you said it was the girl to whom you had spoken about marriage!"

"Quite right."

The idea returned to d.i.c.k that there must be something wrong, very wrong--as he put it--in Masters' upper storey. Marriage! With Gracie! It was simply too absurd for words; he said:

"You jibbering old idiot, you, what do you mean? Gracie isn't five years old!"

"I know! I know! I know! And yet a month ago at Wivernsea I promised her, if when she grew up she wanted to marry me--which she won't--that I would."

"Wivernsea! Why, you know my sister!"

Masters started up. Gripped the boy by both shoulders and shook him.

Happiness struggled with the tears in his eyes as he said:

"d.i.c.k, just a wee while ago--forgive me for it, laddie--I hated you! Now I love you! I love you! I love you! You've told me just the best news I've heard for years."

"That's all right, old man."

He shook himself free, and ruefully rubbing his shoulders, continued:

"What that news may be I don't know; it's beyond my intellect's horizon.

However, as it pleases you it's sufficient--so long as it doesn't hurt me. Don't make me black and blue in the exuberance of your affection. As the poet hath it: It's all very well to dissemble your love, but why do you kick me downstairs?"

"I'm sorry, d.i.c.k--really sorry. Did I hurt you? I'm so full of happiness that I could kick myself for having been such a fool all this horrible long time."