Queechy Volume I Part 32

"Stop, Sir!" said Thorn, as the young Englishman was turning away, adding with an oath ?"I wont bear this! You shall answer this to me, Sir!"

"Easily," said the other.

"And me, too," said Rossitur. "You have an account to settle with me, Carleton."

"I will answer what you please," said Carleton, carelessly; "and as soon as we get to land, provided you do not, in the meantime, induce me to refuse you the honour."

However incensed, the young men endeavoured to carry it off with the same coolness that their adversary showed. No more words pa.s.sed; but Mrs. Carleton, possibly quickened by Fleda's fears, was not satisfied with the carriage of all parties, and resolved to sound her son, happy in knowing that nothing but truth was to be had from him. She found an opportunity that very afternoon, when he was sitting alone on the deck. The neighbourhood of little Fleda she hardly noticed. Fleda was curled up among her cushions, luxuriously bending over a little old black Bible, which was very often in her hand at times when she was quiet and had no observation to fear.

"Reading! always reading!" said Mrs. Carleton, as she came up and took a place by her son.

"By no means!" he said, closing his book with a smile; ? "not enough to tire any one's eyes on this voyage, mother."

"I wish you liked intercourse with living society," said Mrs.

Carleton, leaning her arm on his shoulder and looking at him rather wistfully.

"You need not wish that ? when it suits me," he answered.

"But none suits you. Is there any on board?"

"A small proportion," he said, with the slight play of feature which always effected a diversion of his mother's thoughts, no matter in what channel they had been flowing.

"But those young men," she said, returning to the charge, "you hold yourself very much aloof from them?"

He did not answer, even by a look, but to his mother the perfectly quiet composure of his face was sufficiently expressive.

"I know what you think; but, Guy, you always had the same opinion of them?"

"I have never shown any other."

"Guy," she said, speaking low and rather anxiously, "have you got into trouble with those young men?"

"I am in no trouble, mother," he answered, somewhat haughtily; "I cannot speak for them."

Mrs. Carleton waited a moment.

"You have done something to displease them, have you not?"

"They have displeased me, which is somewhat more to the purpose."

"But their folly is nothing to you?"

"No ? not their folly."

"Guy," said his mother, again pausing a minute, and pressing her hand more heavily upon his shoulder, "you will not suffer this to alter the friendly terms you have been on? ? whatever it be, let it pa.s.s."

"Certainly; if they choose to apologize, and behave themselves."

"What ? about Fleda?"

"Yes."

"I have no idea they meant to trouble her; I suppose they did no at all know what they were doing ? thoughtless nonsense ?

and they could have had no design to offend you. Promise me that you will not take any further notice of this."

He shook off the beseeching hand as he rose up, and answered haughtily, and not without something like an oath, that he _would_.

Mrs. Carleton knew him better than to press the matter any further; and her fondness easily forgave the offence against herself, especially as her son almost immediately resumed his ordinary manner.

It had well nigh pa.s.sed from the minds of both parties, when in the middle of the next day, Mr. Carleton asked what had become of Fleda? ? he had not seen her except at the breakfast-table. Mrs. Carleton said she was not well.

"What's the matter?"

"She complained of some headache ? I think she made herself sick yesterday ? she was crying all the afternoon, and I could not get her to tell me what for. I tried every means I could think of, but she would not give me the least clue ? she said 'No' to everything I guessed ? I can't bear to see her do so ?

it makes it all the worse she does it so quietly ? it was only by a mere chance I found she was crying at all, but I think she cried herself ill before she stopped. She could not eat a mouthful of breakfast."

Mr. Carleton said nothing, and, with a changed countenance, went directly down to the cabin. The stewardess whom he sent in to see how she was, brought back word that Fleda was not asleep, but was too ill to speak to her. Mr. Carleton went immediately into the little crib of a state-room. There he found his little charge, sitting bolt upright, her feet on the rung of a chair, and her hands grasping the top to support herself. Her eyes were closed, her face without a particle of colour, except the dark shade round the eyes which bespoke illness and pain. She made no attempt to answer his shocked questions and words of tender concern, not even by the raising of an eyelid, and he saw that the intensity of pain at the moment was such as to render breathing itself difficult. He sent off the stewardess with all despatch after iced water and vinegar and brandy, and himself went on an earnest quest of restoratives among the lady pa.s.sengers in the cabin, which resulted in sundry supplies of salts and cologne, and also offers of service, in greater plenty still, which he all refused. Most tenderly and judiciously he himself applied various remedies to the suffering child, who could not direct him otherwise than by gently putting away the things which she felt would not avail her. Several were in vain. But there was one bottle of strong aromatic vinegar which was destined to immortalize its owner in Fleda's remembrance. Before she had taken three whiffs of it, her colour changed. Mr. Carleton watched the effect of a few whiffs more, and then bade the stewardess take away all the other things, and bring him a cup of fresh strong coffee. By the time it came Fleda was ready for it; and by the time Mr. Carleton had administered the coffee, he saw it would do to throw his mother's shawl round her, and carry her up on deck, which he did without asking any questions. All this while Fleda had not spoken a word, except once when he asked her if she felt better. But she had given him, on finishing the coffee, a full look and half smile of such pure affectionate grat.i.tude, that the young gentleman's tongue was tied for some time after.

With happy skill, when he had safely bestowed Fleda among her cushions on deck, Mr. Carleton managed to keep off the crowd of busy inquirers after her well-doing, and even presently to turn his mother's attention another way, leaving Fleda to enjoy all the comfort of quiet and fresh air at once. He himself seeming occupied with other things, did no more but keep watch over her, till he saw that she was able to bear conversation again. Then he seated himself beside her, and said softly ?

"Elfie, what were you crying about all yesterday afternoon?"

Fleda changed colour, for, soft and gentle as the tone was, she heard in it a determination to have the answer; and looking up beseechingly into his face, she saw in the steady full blue eye, that it was a determination she could not escape from. Her answer was an imploring request that he would not ask her. But taking one of her little hands and carrying it to his lips, he in the same tone repeated his question.

Fleda s.n.a.t.c.hed away her hand, and burst into very frank tears; Mr. Carleton was silent, but she knew through his silence that he was only quietly waiting for her to answer him.

"I wish you wouldn't ask me, Sir," said poor Fleda, who still could not turn her face to meet his eye ? "It was only something that happened yesterday."

"What was it, Elfie? ? You need not be afraid to tell me."

"It was only ? what you said to Mrs. Carleton yesterday ? when she was talking ?"

"About my difficulty with those gentlemen!"

"Yes," said Fleda, with a new gush of tears, as if her grief stirred afresh at the thought.

Mr. Carleton was silent a moment; and when he spoke, there was no displeasure, and more tenderness than usual, in his voice.

"What troubled you in that, Elfie? tell me the whole."

"I was sorry, because it wasn't right," said Fleda, with a grave truthfulness which yet lacked none of her universal gentleness and modesty.

"What wasn't right?"

"To speak ? I am afraid you wont like me to say it, Mr.

Carleton."

"I will, Elfie for I ask you."

"To speak to Mrs. Carleton, so; and, besides, you know what you said, Mr. Carleton"