Читать книгу Waif of the River - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 12

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Meanwhile, that mysterious power called Destiny, Fate or merely Chance was about to begin the transformation of two characters, altering the course of their lives, changing their thoughts, aspirations and hopes for the future, and all this by means of Old Father Thames, two oars skilfully plied and a misused lump of chalk; the particulars of which, after brief and needed description, shall be related forthwith, as follows:

Before this structural oddment henceforth to be known as the Gamecock's Roost, and well above high-water mark, was a small court enclosed by a woefully battered marble balustrade pierced midway by a stately arch, beneath which was a roomy platform whence a flight of stone steps descended to the river—once the water stairs of some noble mansion long since demolished and forgotten. But these age-worn relics of a splendid past still preserved a wistful beauty all their own, more especially the stairs, worn and hollowed here and there by the feet of many generations, and thus wise in experience of life, of joy, sorrow, fear and tragedy; indeed, a very fateful stairway.

And it was above these stairs of destiny, in the shadow of this stately arch, that Robin stood, six feet of splendid young manhood, a lump of chalk in that terrible right fist of his, with which, upon a board propped at convenient angle, he was inscribing this legend and in his own original manner, thus:

THE GAIM COCKES REWST

He was viewing this effort rather dubiously, when he was startled by a voice, harsh though feminine, exclaiming:

"Aho!"

Glancing swiftly thitherward, he beheld almost within reach the narrow stern of a light boat or skiff inscribed with the letters B. E. T., a pair of roughshod feet, slender ankles, shapeless petticoat and a face framed in black though lustrous hair, an oval face lit by eyes vividly blue beneath brows knit in a frown, above a nose delicately arched, and this again above a somewhat wide though shapely full-lipped mouth, which lips now parted to demand in the same harsh tone:

"Young man, wot d'ye think you're adoing of?"

After momentary pause he answered:

"Young woman, I am about to paint this sign."

"Then rub it out, young man, and spell it right—and proper!"

"Oh?" he enquired, eyeing his handiwork more doubtfully than before. "What's wrong with it?"

"Everything except the 'The'."

"B'gad!" he axclaimed ruefully. "I was thinking it looked a trifle odd. I never was a great hand at spelling."

"Then you ought to be, considering the size o' you!"

"What in the world has my size to do with it?"

"Plenty! And then, besides, there's your hair, your awful 'air!"

"Eh? What's the matter with it?"

"Pink as a carrot and all pretty little quiffs and curls like a baby's——"

"Oho!" he chuckled. "What of your own tangled mane?"

"Well—what?" she demanded, leaning across her oars to frown up at him again.

"Black as a barrel of tar or sooty chimney!"

"So you don't like black hair, eh, young man?"

"I prefer a—sunnier colour."

"Red, I s'pose, like your own baby curls—yah! Now you're flushin'—pink as a noo-born babby!"

"And—and you," stuttered Robin, flushing more hotly, "you are a—an extremely vulgar young woman, coarse as your shoes and petticoats. The best thing about you is your boat. And these letters on the stern B. E. T., do they spell your name?"

"S'pose they do?"

"It would be a misfit and doesn't suit you."

"Oh, and why not?"

"Because it is a common name; and though you appear so offensively common, I think you are the most uncommon longshore lass on Thames-side."

"Ho? And in spite o' my 'mane o' tangled 'air'? S'pose you tell my why."

"Your ankles don't match your shoes, your hands are too white, you carry that black head too proudly high and sometimes forget to drop your aitches."

"Anything more?"

"Yes, in spite of your coarse stockings and rough petticoats, I notice——"

"That'll do, young man! That'll—do! I don't want none o' your impidence nor shameless talk——"

"Good lord—no! Nothing was farther from my thoughts. I was simply going to observe——"

"Then don't! You've observed quite enough of me."

"Oh no! The more I see of you, the more there is to see, because——"

"My gracious! Young man, whatever are you asaying of? Don't think because I'm only me and rows a boat I'm to be took liberties with by the likes o' you or——"

"Now, damme," exclaimed Robin indignantly, "what sort of fellow do you take me for?"

"I don't take you!" she retorted instantly, with flash of white teeth. "I wouldn't take you at any price; no, not if you was to offer yourself on your bended knees—with your pretty baby curls!"

"Your black mane will be snowy white before I do, and even then I shouldn't, of course."

"Young man, who is she?"

"Who is who?"

"Her as you was in love with—last time?"

"She is the first and will be the last!" said Robin with youthful fervour. "For me there can never be any other."

"Jilted you, did she, young man?"

"Certainly not! She chose to marry a—a better man, and her choice is mine."

"That's wot you say, but I knows better."

"What, pray?"

"She couldn't abide your pretty golden hair, and no wonder, no more can I; so why don't you get your 'at and hide it?"

"It's quite evident you are trying to annoy me, and I'm wondering why? Not that it matters in the least. Whatever you do or say cannot affect me, my poor girl."

"I'm not your girl."

"No, of course not! I merely——"

"So don't think as I ever would be your girl."

"Heaven forbid! No no, the idea appals me."

"I wouldn't look at you!"

"But you do; you're staring at me now, and—by George, I never saw eyes so blue or more——"

"More what?" she demanded.

And after brief pause, Robin answered:

"Beautiful."

Here the eyes in question instantly veiled themselves beneath lashes black as her hair, and after another brief pause she exclaimed:

"Yah—gammon!"

Robin winced like a startled horse, gazed into the eyes that were looking up at him again, and frowned because of the mocking smile that curved her ruddy lips.

"Diss-gussting!" he hissed angrily.

"What is?"

"Such words from—such a mouth!"

"However, my mouth does to eat with, like my eyes do to see with."

"Oh well," he sighed with hopeless gesture, "I should not have expected anything better of you, in spite of your hands and ankles, since you are indeed precisely what you are."

"Ah, and wot am I?"

"A much too handsome, very ill-mannered, extremely offensive, hatefully vulgar, perfectly disgusting young female."

The black lashes widened to a blue-eyed glare, the delicate nostrils dilated, rounded bosom surged to fierce, deep-drawn breath; then, instead of the expected furious tirade, she laughed, saying thereafter breathlessly:

"Yes ... yes, that's me ... that's me to a 'T'. So now, young man, I'll tell you, besides all this, I'm——"

"Who is in authority here?"

The voice uttering these words, though not over-loud, was so imperious in tone that Robin turned to behold the speaker—in which moment was the sudden splash and beat of oars, and, glancing back, he beheld the boatwoman rowing with a sort of desperate fury and yet so skilfully that the light skiff turning in its own length, vanished behind a barge moored nearby.... And now it was that Robin, though familiar by sight with all sorts and conditions of men, beheld at last one such as he had never seen.