And if things get very bad you've one resource left," I added.
She wondered."To lock her up in her cabin?""No--to come out of yours."
"Ah never, never! If it takes that to save her she must be lost.
Besides, what good would it do? If I were to go above she could come below.""Yes, but you could keep Jasper with you.""COULD I?" Mrs.Nettlepoint demanded in the manner of a woman who knew her son.
In the saloon the next day, after dinner, over the red cloth of the tables, beneath the swinging lamps and the racks of tumblers, decanters and wine-glasses, we sat down to whist, Mrs.Peck, to oblige, taking a hand in the game.She played very badly and talked too much, and when the rubber was over assuaged her discomfiture (though not mine--we had been partners) with a Welsh rabbit and a tumbler of something hot.We had done with the cards, but while she waited for this refreshment she sat with her elbows on the table shuffling a pack.
"She hasn't spoken to me yet--she won't do it," she remarked in a moment.
"Is it possible there's any one on the ship who hasn't spoken to you?""Not that girl--she knows too well!" Mrs.Peck looked round our little circle with a smile of intelligence--she had familiar communicative eyes.Several of our company had assembled, according to the wont, the last thing in the evening, of those who are cheerful at sea, for the consumption of grilled sardines and devilled bones.
"What then does she know?"
"Oh she knows _I_ know."
"Well, we know what Mrs.Peck knows," one of the ladies of the group observed to me with an air of privilege.
"Well, you wouldn't know if I hadn't told you--from the way she acts," said our friend with a laugh of small charm.
"She's going out to a gentleman who lives over there--he's waiting there to marry her," the other lady went on, in the tone of authentic information.I remember that her name was Mrs.Gotch and that her mouth looked always as if she were whistling.
"Oh he knows--I've told him," said Mrs.Peck.
"Well, I presume every one knows," Mrs.Gotch contributed.
"Dear madam, is it every one's business?" I asked.
"Why, don't you think it's a peculiar way to act?"--and Mrs.Gotch was evidently surprised at my little protest.
"Why it's right there--straight in front of you, like a play at the theatre--as if you had paid to see it," said Mrs.Peck."If you don't call it public!""Aren't you mixing things up? What do you call public?""Why the way they go on.They're up there now.""They cuddle up there half the night," said Mrs.Gotch."I don't know when they come down.Any hour they like.When all the lights are out they're up there still.""Oh you can't tire them out.They don't want relief--like the ship's watch!" laughed one of the gentlemen.
"Well, if they enjoy each other's society what's the harm?" another asked."They'd do just the same on land.""They wouldn't do it on the public streets, I presume," said Mrs.
Peck."And they wouldn't do it if Mr.Porterfield was round!""Isn't that just where your confusion comes in?" I made answer.
"It's public enough that Miss Mavis and Mr.Nettlepoint are always together, but it isn't in the least public that she's going to be married.""Why how can you say--when the very sailors know it! The Captain knows it and all the officers know it.They see them there, especially at night, when they're sailing the ship.""I thought there was some rule--!" submitted Mrs.Gotch.
"Well, there is--that you've got to behave yourself," Mrs.Peck explained."So the Captain told me--he said they have some rule.He said they have to have, when people are too undignified.""Is that the term he used?" I inquired.
"Well, he may have said when they attract too much attention."I ventured to discriminate."It's we who attract the attention--by talking about what doesn't concern us and about what we really don't know.""She said the Captain said he'd tell on her as soon as ever we arrive," Mrs.Gotch none the less serenely pursued.
"SHE said--?" I repeated, bewildered.
"Well, he did say so, that he'd think it his duty to inform Mr.
Porterfield when he comes on to meet her--if they keep it up in the same way," said Mrs.Peck.
"Oh they'll keep it up, don't you fear!" one of the gentlemen exclaimed.
"Dear madam, the Captain's having his joke on you," was, however, my own congruous reply.
"No, he ain't--he's right down scandalised.He says he regards us all as a real family and wants the family not to be downright coarse." I felt Mrs.Peck irritated by my controversial tone: she challenged me with considerable spirit."How can you say I don't know it when all the street knows it and has known it for years--for years and years?" She spoke as if the girl had been engaged at least for twenty."What's she going out for if not to marry him?""Perhaps she's going to see how he looks," suggested one of the gentlemen.
"He'd look queer--if he knew."
"Well, I guess he'll know," said Mrs.Gotch.
"She'd tell him herself--she wouldn't be afraid," the gentleman went on.
"Well she might as well kill him.He'll jump overboard," Mrs.Peck could foretell.
"Jump overboard?" cried Mrs.Gotch as if she hoped then that Mr.
Porterfield would be told.
"He has just been waiting for this--for long, long years," said Mrs.
Peck.
"Do you happen to know him?" I asked.
She replied at her convenience."No, but I know a lady who does.
Are you going up?"
I had risen from my place--I had not ordered supper."I'm going to take a turn before going to bed.""Well then you'll see!"
