Renovated certainly the saloon of the Ferndale was to receive the
"strange woman." The mellowness of its old-fashioned, tarnished
decoration was gone. And Anthony looking round saw the glitter, the
gleams, the colour of new things, untried, unused, very bright--too
bright. The workmen had gone only last night; and the last piece of work
they did was the hanging of the heavy curtains which looped midway the
length of the saloon--divided it in two if released, cutting off the
after end with its companion-way leading direct on the poop, from the
forepart with its outlet on the deck; making a privacy within a privacy,
as though Captain Anthony could not place obstacles enough between his
new happiness and the men who shared his life at sea. He inspected that
arrangement with an approving eye then made a particular visitation of
the whole, ending by opening a door which led into a large state-room
made of two knocked into one. It was very well furnished and had,
instead of the usual bedplace of such cabins, an elaborate swinging cot
of the latest pattern. Anthony tilted it a little by way of trial. "The
old man will be very comfortable in here," he said to himself, and
stepped back into the saloon closing the door gently. Then another
thought occurred to him obvious under the circumstances but strangely
enough presenting itself for the first time. "Jove! Won't he get a
shock," thought Roderick Anthony.
He went hastily on deck. "Mr. Franklin, Mr. Franklin." The mate was not
very far. "Oh! Here you are. Miss . . . Mrs. Anthony'll be coming on
board presently. Just give me a call when you see the cab."
Then, without noticing the gloominess of the mate's countenance he went
in again. Not a friendly word, not a professional remark, or a small
joke, not as much as a simple and inane "fine day." Nothing. Just
turned about and went in.
We know that, when the moment came, he thought better of it and decided
to meet Flora's father in that privacy of the main cabin which he had
been so careful to arrange. Why Anthony appeared to shrink from the
contact, he who was sufficiently self-confident not only to face but to
absolutely create a situation almost insane in its audacious generosity,
is difficult to explain. Perhaps when he came on the poop for a glance
he found that man so different outwardly from what he expected that he
decided to meet him for the first time out of everybody's sight. Possibly
the general secrecy of his relation to the girl might have influenced
him. Truly he may well have been dismayed. That man's coming brought
him face to face with the necessity to speak and act a lie; to appear
what he was not and what he could never be, unless, unless-In short, we'll say if you like that for various reasons, all having to
do with the delicate rectitude of his nature, Roderick Anthony (a man of
whom his chief mate used to say: he doesn't know what fear is) was
frightened. There is a Nemesis which overtakes generosity too, like all
the other imprudences of men who dare to be lawless and proud . . . "