quiet
felicity with the girl by his side and his eyes on his brig,
anticipating a blissful future. His silence was
eloquent with
disappointment, and Freya understood it very well. She, too, was
disappointed. But it was her business to be sensible.
"We shan't have a moment to ourselves with that
beetle creeping
round the house," she argued in a low,
hurried voice. "So what's
the good of your staying? And he won't go while the brig's here.
You know he won't."
"He ought to be reported for loitering," murmured Jasper with a
vexed little laugh.
"Mind you get under way at daylight," recommended Freya under her
breath.
He
detained her after the manner of lovers. She expostulated
without struggling because it was hard for her to
repulse him. He
whispered into her ear while he put his arms round her.
"Next time we two meet, next time I hold you like this, it shall be
on board. You and I, in the brig - all the world, all the life - "
And then he flashed out: "I wonder I can wait! I feel as if I
must carry you off now, at once. I could run with you in my hands
- down the path - without stumbling - without
touching the earth -
"
She was still. She listened to the
passion in his voice. She was
saying to herself that if she were to
whisper the faintest yes, if
she were but to sigh
lightly her consent, he would do it. He was
capable of doing it - without
touching the earth. She closed her
eyes and smiled in the dark, abandoning herself in a delightful
giddiness, for an
instant, to his encircling arm. But before he
could be tempted to
tighten his grasp she was out of it, a foot
away from him and in full possession of herself.
That was the steady Freya. She was touched by the deep sigh which
floated up to her from the white figure of Jasper, who did not
stir.
"You are a mad kid," she said tremulously. Then with a change of
tone: "No one could carry me off. Not even you. I am not the
sort of girl that gets carried off." His white form seemed to
shrink a little before the force of that
assertion and she
relented. "Isn't it enough for you to know that you have - that
you have carried me away?" she added in a tender tone.
He murmured an endearing word, and she continued:
"I've promised you - I've said I would come - and I shall come of
my own free will. You shall wait for me on board. I shall get up
the side - by myself, and walk up to you on the deck and say:
'Here I am, kid.' And then - and then I shall be carried off. But
it will be no man who will carry me off - it will be the brig, your
brig - our brig. . . . I love the beauty!"
She heard an inarticulate sound, something like a moan wrung out by
pain or delight, and glided away. There was that other man on the
other verandah, that dark, surly Dutchman who could make trouble
between Jasper and her father, bring about a quarrel, ugly words,
and perhaps a
physicalcollision. What a
horrible situation! But,
even putting aside that awful
extremity, she
shrank from having to
live for some three months with a
wretched, tormented, angry,
distracted,
absurd man. And when the day came, the day and the
hour, what should she do if her father tried to
detain her by main
force - as was, after all, possible? Could she
actually struggle
with him hand to hand? But it was of lamentations and entreaties
that she was really afraid. Could she
withstand them? What an
odious, cruel,
ridiculous position would that be!
"But it won't be. He'll say nothing," she thought as she came out
quickly on the west verandah, and,
seeing that Heemskirk did not
move, sat down on a chair near the
doorway and kept her eyes on
him. The outraged
lieutenant had not changed his attitude; only
his cap had fallen off his
stomach and was lying on the floor. His
thick black eyebrows were knitted by a frown, while he looked at
her out of the corners of his eyes. And their sideways glance in
conjunction with the
hooked nose, the whole bulky, ungainly,
sprawling person, struck Freya as so
comically moody that, inwardly
discomposed as she was, she could not help smiling. She did her
best to give that smile a conciliatory
character. She did not want
to
provoke Heemskirk needlessly.
And the
lieutenant, perceiving that smile, was mollified. It never
entered his head that his
outward appearance, a naval officer, in
uniform, could appear
ridiculous to that girl of no position - the
daughter of old Nielsen. The
recollection of her arms round