Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast - Page 331/334

They came back to their own with the full purses that the generosity of

their employers had provided, and there was no longer any doubt as to

the future of the men who once starved on Hue and Cry.

Captain Mayo had declared that he knew where to find faithful workers

when it came time to distribute jobs.

Polly Candage had come to him when he stepped foot on shore, hands

outstretched to him, and eyes alight. And when she put her hands in his

he knew, in his soul, that this was the greeting he had been waiting

for; her words of congratulation were the dearest of all, her smile was

the best reward, and for her dear self he had been hungry.

But he would not admit to himself that he had come to woo.

When the soft dusk had softened the harsh outlines of the little hamlet,

and the others were busy with their own affairs and had left Mayo

and Polly to themselves, he sat with her on the porch of the widow's

cottage, where they spent that first evening after they had been saved

from the sea.

There had been a long silence between them. "We have had no

opportunity--I have not dared yet to tell you my best hopes for the

dearest thing of all," she ventured.

"The one up inland. I know. I am glad for you."

"What one up inland?"

"That young man--the only young man in all the world."

"Oh yes! I had forgotten."

He stared at her. "Forgotten?"

"Why--why--I don't exactly mean forgotten. But I was not thinking about

him when I spoke. I mean that now--with your new prospects--you can go

to--to--There may come a time when you can speak to Mr. Marston."

"I have spoken to Mr. Marston, quite lately. He has spoken to me," he

said, his face hard. "We shall never speak to each other again, if I can

have my way."

He met her astonished gaze. "Polly, I hate to trouble you with my poor

affairs of this kind. I can talk of business to Mr. Vose, and of the

sea to your father. But there's another matter that I can't mention

to anybody--except you will listen. I will tell you where I saw Mr.

Marston--and his daughter."

She listened, her lips apart.

"So, you see," he said at the end, "it was worse than a dream; it was

a mistake. It couldn't have been real love, for it was not built on the

right foundation. I have never had much experience with girls. I have

been swashing about at sea 'most all my life. Perhaps I don't know what

real love is. But it seems to me it can't amount to much unless it is

built up on mutual understanding, willingness to sacrifice for each

other."