Three Boys Part 12

"I did show him the Grey Mare's Tail, father," said Kenneth, with a merry look across the table.

"Ah yes! a very beautiful fall."

The dinner went on, but, though he was faint, Max did not make a hearty meal, for, in addition to everything seeming so strange, and the manners of his host certainly constrained, from time to time it seemed to the visitor that all of a sudden the table, with its white cloth, glittering gla.s.s and plate, began to rise up, taking him with it, and repeating the movements of the steamer where they caught the Atlantic swell. Then it subsided, and, as a peculiar giddy feeling pa.s.sed off, the table seemed to move again; this time with a quick jerk, similar to that given by Kenneth's boat.

Max set his teeth; a cold perspiration broke out upon his forehead, and he held his knife and fork as if they were the handles to which he must cling to save himself from falling.

He was suspended between two horrors, two ideas troubling him. Would his host see his state, and should he be obliged to leave the table?

And all the while the conversation went on between father and son, and he had to reply to questions put to him. Then, as the table rose and heaved, and the room began to swing gently round, a fierce-looking eye seemed to be glancing at him out of a mist, and he knew that the butler was watching him in an angry, scornful manner that made him shrink.

He had some recollection afterwards of the dinner ending, and of their going into a handsome drawing-room, where The Mackhai left them, as Kenneth said, to go and smoke in his own room. Then Max remembered something about a game of chess, and then of starting up and oversetting the table, with the pieces rattling on the floor.

"What--what--what's the matter?" he exclaimed as he clapped his hand to his leg, which was tingling with pain.

"What's the matter? why, you were asleep again. Never did see such a sleepy fellow. Here, let's go to bed."

"I beg your pardon; I'm very sorry, but I was travelling all last night."

"Oh, I don't mind," said Kenneth, yawning. "Come along."

"We must say good-night to your father."

"Oh no! he won't like to be disturbed. He's in some trouble. I think it's about money he has been losing, and it makes him cross."

Kenneth led the way up-stairs, chattering away the while, and making all manner of plans for the morning.

"Here you are," he cried. "You'd like a bath in the morning?"

"Oh yes, I always have one."

"All right. I'll call you."

As soon as he was alone, Max went to the window and opened it, to admit the odour of the salt weed and the thud and rush of the water as it beat against the foot of the castle and whispered amongst the crags. The moon was just setting, and shedding a lurid yellow light across the sea, which heaved and gleamed, and threw up strange reflections from the black ma.s.ses of rock which stood up all round.

A curious shrinking sensation came over him as he gazed out; for down below the weed-hung rocks seemed to be in motion, and strange monsters appeared to be sporting in the darkness as the weed swayed here and there with the water's wash.

He closed the window, after a long look round, and hurriedly undressed, hoping that after a good night's rest the sensation of unreality would pa.s.s off, and that he would feel more himself, but he had no sooner put out the candle and plunged into bed than it seemed as if he were once more at sea. For the bed rose slowly and began to glide gently down an inclined plane toward one corner of the room, sweeping out through the wall, and then rising and giving quite a plunge once more.

It all seemed so real that Max started up in bed, and grasped the head, and stared round.

It was all fancy. The bed was quite still, and the only movement was that of the waves outside as they beat upon the rocks.

He lay down once more, and, as his head touched the pillow, and he closed his eyes, the bed heaved up once more, set sail, and he kept gliding on and on and on.

This lasted for about an hour, and then, as the boat-like bed made one of its slow, steady glides, down as it were into the depths of the sea, it went down and down, lower and lower, till all was black and solemn and still, and it was as if there was a restful end of all trouble, till the stern struck with a tremendous thud upon a rock, and a hollow voice exclaimed,--

"Now, old chap! Six o'clock! Ready for your bath?"

CHAPTER SIX.

A MORNING BATH.

"Yes! Come in. Thank you. Eh? I'll open the door. And--Don't knock so hard."

Confused and puzzled, Max started out of his deep sleep, with his head aching, and the bewilderment increasing as he tried to make out where he was, the memory of the past two days' events having left him.

"Don't hurry yourself. It's all right. Like to have another nap?" came in bantering tones.

"I'll get up and dress as quickly as I can," cried Max, as he now realised his position. "But--but you said something about showing me the bath."

"To be sure I did. Look sharp. I'll wait."

"Oh, thank you; I'll just slip on my dressing-gown."

"Nonsense! You don't want a bathing-gown," cried Kenneth. "Here! let me in."

"Yes, directly," replied Max; and the next minute he went to the door, where Kenneth was performing some kind of festive dance to the accompaniment of a liberal drumming with his doubled fists upon the panels.

"Ha! ha!" laughed the lad boisterously. "You do look rum like that.

Slip on your outside, and come along."

"But--the bath-room? I--"

"Bath-room! What bath-room?"

"You said you would show me."

"Get out! I never said anything about a bath-room. I said a bath--a swim--a dip in the sea. Beats all the bath-rooms that were ever born."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Max, who seemed struck almost dumb.

"Well, look sharp. Scood's waiting. He called me an hour ago, and I dropped asleep again."

"Scood--waiting?"

"Yes; he's a splendid swimmer. We'll soon teach you."

"But--"

"You're not afraid, are you?"

"Oh no--not at all. But I--"

"Here, jump into your togs, old man, and haul your shrouds taut. It's glorious! You're sure to like it after the first jump in. It's just what you want."

Max felt as if it was just what he did not want; but strong wills rule weak, and he had a horror of being thought afraid, so that the result was, he slipped on his clothes hastily, and followed his companion down-stairs, and out on to the rock terrace, where a soft western breeze came off the sea, which glittered in the morning sunshine.