Читать книгу Dutch the Diver; Or, A Man's Mistake - George Manville Fenn - Страница 12

The next day, after a long and busy discussion, in which Lauré took eager interest, and during which plans were made as to stores, arms for protection against the Indians of the coast they were to visit, lifting and diving apparatus, and the like, the Cuban was installed at the cottage, and that first night Dutch saw again upon his face that intense admiration the dark, warm-blooded Southerner felt for the fair young English girl. For girl she still was, with a girl’s ways, prettily mingled with her attempts to play the part of mistress of her own house. The young husband felt a pang of jealous misery await him as he sat back in the shade of his prettily-furnished drawing-room, seeing their visitor hover about the piano while Hester sang, paying endless attentions with the polish and courtesy of a foreigner, various little refined acts—such as would never have occurred to the bluff young Englishman.

“I’m a jealous fool—that’s what I am,” said Dutch to himself; “and if I go on like this I shall be wretched all the time he is here. I won’t have it—I won’t believe it. She is beautiful—God bless her! and no man could see her without admiring her. I ought to be proud of his admiration instead of letting it annoy me; for, of course, it’s his foreign way of showing it. An Englishman would be very different; but what right have I to fancy for a moment that this foreign gentleman, my guest, would harbour a thought that was not honourable to me? There, it’s all gone.”

He brightened up directly; and as, with a pleasant smile, Lauré came to him soon afterwards and challenged him to a game of chess, the evening passed pleasantly away.

The days glided on rapidly enough, with Dutch Pugh always repeating to himself the stern reproof that he was unjust to his guest and to his young wife to allow a single thought of ill to enter his heart; and to keep these fancies away he worked harder than ever at the preparations for the voyage, being fain, though, to confess that one thing that urged him on was the desire to be rid of his guest.

“I don’t think much of these furren fellows,” said Rasp, one day, when, after a shorter stay than usual at the offices, Lauré had effusively pressed Dutch’s hand and gone back to the cottage. “How does Mrs Pug like him?”

Dutch started, but said, quietly—

“Suppose we get on with the packing of that air-pump, Rasp. You had better get in a couple of the men.”

“All right,” grumbled the old fellow; “I wasn’t going to leave it undone; but if I was a married man with a ’ansum wife, ’ang me if I should care about having a smooth-tongued, dark-eyed, scented foreign monkey of a chap like that at my house.”

“You insolent old scoundrel!” cried Dutch, flashing into a rage; and he caught the old fellow by the throat, but loosened him again with an impatient “Pish!”

Rasp seized the poker and sent the red-hot cinders flying as he stoked away at the fire.

“I desire that you never speak to me again like that. How dare you!”

“Oh, all right, Mr Pug, I won’t speak again,” said Rasp. “I didn’t mean no offence. I only said what I thought, and that was as I didn’t like to see that furren chap always a-hanging after going back to your house, when he ought to be here, helping to see to the things getting ready.”

“Rasp!” said Dutch angrily.

“Well, so he ought to, instead of being away. Nobody wants him to take off his yaller kid gloves and work, but he might look on. He’s going to be a niste one, he is, when he gets out in the place where we’re a-going. He’ll have a hammock slung and a hawning over it when he gets out in the hot sunshine, that’s about what he’ll do, and lie on his back and smoke cigarettes while one works. Say, Mr Pug, I wish you was going with us!”

He went and had another stoke at the fire, and glanced at Dutch’s back, for he was writing, and made no response. “Sulky, and won’t speak,” muttered Rasp; and, going out, banged the door after him.

“The fancies of a vulgar mind,” said Dutch to himself, as soon as he was alone. “The coarse belief of one who cannot understand the purity of feeling and thought of a true woman; and I actually let such ideas have a place in my breast. Bah! It’s disgraceful!”

He glanced round the office, and then angrily devoted himself once more to his work, for it seemed as if the great goggle-eyed diving-helmets were once more bending forward and laughing at him derisively.

“I will not have this office made so hot,” he muttered impatiently; and he worked on for some time, but only to fall dreaming again, as he said, “A little more than a fortnight and we shall be ready. Good luck to the expedition. I wish it were gone.”

Then, in spite of himself, he began thinking about the conduct of Lauré at his house, and wishing earnestly that he had never agreed to his reception as a guest.

“But, there, he is a perfect gentleman,” he argued; “and his conduct to me is almost too effusive. Little Hester must find him all that could be desired, or she would complain. Hallo, who is this?”

“Company to see you,” said Rasp, roughly; and, as Dutch left his stool, it was to meet Captain Studwick’s invalid son and his sister, who came in, accompanied by a quiet, gentlemanly-looking young man, whom he introduced as Mr Meldon.

“The medical gentleman who attends me now,” said John Studwick, smiling; “not that I want much, do I, Mr Meldon?”

“Well, no, we will not call you an invalid, Mr Studwick,” said the stranger.

“Fact is,” said John Studwick, “I’ve set up a medical man of my own. Mr Meldon is going with us on the voyage.”

“What voyage?” said Dutch, eagerly.

“Oh, you don’t know, of course,” said John Studwick, laughing. “My father thinks a sea voyage will set me right, and I am going in the Sea King. Bessy’s going too.”

“Indeed,” said Dutch, looking from one to the other, while Bessy coloured slightly, and turned away.

“Yes, it’s just settled this morning. Mr Parkley is willing, so we shall have a sea voyage and adventure too. I say, Mr Pugh, you asked me to come to your house.”

“Yes, and I shall be very glad,” said Dutch, smiling.

“Well, can we fix a day when we may be introduced to this Spanish Cuban gentleman? I’m curious to know my fellow-passenger. Sick man’s fancy.”

“Thursday week, then,” said Dutch, eagerly. “Mr Meldon, perhaps, will join us.”

“I shall be very happy,” replied that individual.

And he glanced at Bessy, who coloured again slightly; and then, after a few words about the voyage, in which John Studwick expressed his regret that Dutch was not going on the expedition, the little party went away.

“If I’m not mistaken,” said Dutch to himself, as he climbed to his stool, “there’s somebody there to heal the sore place in poor Bessy’s heart. Poor girl! If I was not coxcombical to say so, I should think she really was fond of me. There, come forth, little loadstone,” he said, with a look of intense love lighting up his countenance, and raising the lid of his desk he took from a drawer a photographic carte of his wife, and set it before him, to gaze at it fondly.

“I don’t think I could have cared for Bessy Studwick, darling, even if there had been no Hester in the world.”

As he gazed tenderly at the little miniature of his wife’s features, there seemed to come a peculiar look in the eyes—the expression on the face became one of pain.

He knew it was fancy, but he gazed on at the picture till his imagination took a wider leap, and as if it were quite real, so real that in his disturbed state he could not have declared it untrue, he saw Hester seated in their own room, with every object around clearly defined, her head bent forward, and the Cuban kneeling at her feet, and pressing her hands to his lips.

So real was the scene that he started away from the desk with a loud cry, oversetting his stool, and letting the heavy desk lid fall with a crash.

In a moment Rasp ran into the office, armed with a heavy diver’s axe, and then stood staring in amazement.

“Is any one gone mad?” he growled.

“It was nothing, Rasp,” said Dutch, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

“I never heard nothing make such a row as that afore,” growled Rasp.

And then, putting the axe down, he made for the poker, had a good stoke at the fire, and went out muttering.

Dutch opened the desk on the instant, but the scene was gone, and hastily closing the lid again he began to pace the room.

For a moment his intention was to rush off home, but he restrained himself for the time, and tried to recall the past; but his brain was in a whirl. At last he grew more calm, and took out his watch.

“Only five o’clock,” and he had said that he should get some dinner where he was, stop late at work, and not be home till after nine.

He was to stay there and work for another three or four hours—to make calculations that required all his thought, when he had seen or conjured up that dreadful sight. No: he could not bear it. His nerves tingled, his brain was throbbing, and incipient madness seemed to threaten his reason as he prepared to obey the influence that urged him to go home.

“The villain!” he groaned. “It must be a warning. Heaven help me, I will know the worst.”