The After House - Page 11/108

But that morning, after they had settled to bridge, she followed

me to the rail, out of earshot I straightened and took off my cap,

and she stood looking at me, unsmiling.

"Unclench your hands!" she said.

"I beg your pardon!" I straightened out my fingers, conscious for

the first time of my clenched fists, and even opened and closed

them once or twice to prove their relaxation.

"That's better. Now--won't you try to remember that I am

responsible for your being here, and be careful?"

"Then take me away from here and put me with the crew. I am stronger

now. Ask the captain to give me a man's work. This--this is a

housemaid's occupation."

"We prefer to have you here," she said coldly; and then, evidently

repenting her manner: "We need a man here, Leslie. Better stay.

Are you comfortable in the forecastle?"

"Yes, Miss Lee."

"And the food is all right?"

"The cook says I am eating two men's rations."

She turned to leave, smiling. It was the first time she had thrown

even a fleeting smile my way, and it went to my head.

"And Williams? I am to submit to his insolence?"

She stopped and turned, and the smile faded.

"The next time," she said, "you are to drop him!"

But during the remainder of the day she neither spoke to me nor

looked, as far as I could tell, in my direction. She flirted openly

with Vail, rather, I thought, to the discomfort of Mrs. Johns, who

had appropriated him to herself--sang to him in the cabin, and in

the long hour before dinner, when the others were dressing, walked

the deck with him, talking earnestly. They looked well together,

and I believe he was in love with her. Poor Vail!

Turner had gone below, grimly good-humored, to dress for dinner; and

I went aft to chat, as I often did, with the steersman. On this

occasion it happened to be Charlie Jones. Jones was not his name,

so far as I know. It was some inordinately long and different

German inheritance, and so, with the facility of the average crew,

he had been called Jones. He was a benevolent little man, highly

religious, and something of a philosopher. And because I could

understand German, and even essay it in a limited way, he was fond

of me.

"Seta du dick," he said, and moved over so that I could sit on the

grating on which he stood. "The sky is fine to-night. Wunderschon!"