The Lonely Island: The Refuge of the Mutineers Part 40

For a considerable time Charlie walked beside Sally without uttering a word, and Sally, seeing that there was something on his mind, kept silence. At last Charlie lifted his eyes from the ground, and with the same innocent gaze with which, as an infant, he had been wont to look up to his guardian, he now looked down at her, and said, "Sally."

"Well, Charlie?"

There was a little smile lurking about the corners of the girl's mouth, which seemed to play hide-and-seek with the twinkle in her downcast eyes.

"Well, Charlie, what are you going to tell me?"

"Isn't Toc--very--happy?"

He blushed to the roots of his hair when he said this, and dropped his eyes again on the ground.

"Of course he is," replied Sally, with a touch of surprise.

"But--but--I mean, as--"

"Well, why don't you go on, Charlie?"

"I mean as a--a married man."

"Every one sees and knows that, Charlie." There was another silence, during which the timid youth cleared his throat several times. At last he became desperate.

"And--and--Sally, don't you think that _other_ people might be happy too if they were married?"

"To be sure they might," said the girl, with provoking coolness.

"There's Dan McCoy, now, and Sarah Quintal, they will be very happy when--"

"Why, how do _you_ know?"--Charlie spoke with a look of surprise and stopped short.

The girl laughed in a low tone, but did not reply, and the youth, becoming still more desperate, said--

"But I--I didn't mean Dan and Sarah, when I--Oh, Sally, don't you _know_ that I love you?"

"Yes, I know that," replied the girl, with a blush and a little tremulous smile. "I couldn't help knowing that."

"Have I made it so plain, then?" he asked, in surprise.

"Haven't you followed me ever since you were a staggerer?" asked Sally, with a simple look.

"O yes, of course--but--but I love you far _far_ more now. In short, I want to marry you, Sally."

He had reached the culminating point at last. "Well, Charlie, why don't you ask father's leave?" said the maiden.

"And you agree?" he exclaimed, timidly taking her hand.

"Oh, Charlie," returned Sally, looking up in his face, with an arch smile, "how stupid you are! Nothing goes into your dear head without such a deal of hammering. Will you never become wise, and--"

Charlie became wise at last, and stopped her impudent mouth effectively; but she broke from him and ran into the woods, while he went down to the village to tell Adams.

Meanwhile Daniel McCoy led Sarah Quintal by a round-about path to the cliffs above Pitcairn.

Pretty little Sarah was timid, and had a vague suspicion of something that caused her heart to flutter.

"I say, Sarah," said the bold and stalwart Dan, "did you ever see such a jolly couple as Toc and his wife before?"

"I never saw any couple before, you know," replied the girl, simply, "except father Adams and his wife."

"Well, they are an oldish couple," returned Dan, with a laugh; "but it's my opinion that before long you'll see a good many more couples--young ones, too."

"Indeed," said Sarah, becoming much interested, for this was the first time that any young man had ventured to refer to such a subject, though she and her female companions had often canva.s.sed the possibilities that surrounded them.

"Yes, indeed," returned Dan. "Let me see, now. There's Charlie Christian and Otaheitan Sally--"

"Why, how did you come to know _that_?" asked Sarah, in genuine surprise.

Dan laughed heartily. "Come to know what?" he asked.

"That--that he is fond of Sally," stammered Sarah.

"Why, everybody knows that," returned Dan; "the very gulls must be aware of it by this time, unless they are geese."

"Yes, of course," said the poor girl, blushing crimson at the thought of having been led almost to betray her friend's confidences.

"Well, then," continued Dan, "Charlie and Sall bein' so fond o' one another--"

"I did not say that Sally was fond of Charlie," interrupted Sarah, quickly.

"Oh _dear_ no!" said Dan, with deep solemnity; "of _course_ you didn't; nevertheless I know it, and it wouldn't surprise me much if something came of it--a wedding, for instance."

Sarah, being afraid to commit herself in some way if she opened her lips, said nothing, but gazed intently at the ground as they walked slowly among the sweet-scented shrubs.

"But there's one o' the boys that wants to marry _you_, Sarah Quintal, and it is for him I want to put in a good word to-day."

A flutter of surprise, mingled with dismay at her heart, tended still further to confuse the poor girl. Not knowing what to say, she stammered, "Indeed! Who can it--it--" and stopped short.

"They sometimes call him Dan," said the youth, suddenly grasping Sarah's hand and pa.s.sing an arm round her waist, "but his full name is Daniel McCoy."

Sarah Quintal became as suddenly pale now as she had formerly become red, and struggled to get free.

"Oh, Dan, Dan, don't!" she cried, earnestly; "_do_ let me go, if you love me!"

"Well, I will, if you say I may speak to Father Adams about it."

Sarah's answer was quite inaudible to ordinary ears, but it caused Dan to loosen his hold; and the girl, bounding away like a frightened gazelle, disappeared among the palm-groves.

"Well," exclaimed Dan, thrusting both hands into his trousers-pockets as he walked smartly down the hill, "you _are_ the dearest girl in all the world. There can't be two opinions on that point."

Dan's world was a remarkably small one, as worlds go, but it was quite large enough to fill his heart to overflowing at that time.

In turning into another path he almost ran against Charlie Christian.