Chapter 42

IN WHICH PHIL PROMISES NOT TO DESERT MISS COLLINGSBY.

If I had not been so anxious to overtake Mr. Whippleton, I should have enjoyed my occupation in the cook-room of the Marian much better. Being in a boat at all was a very pleasant thing to me; a place in the cook-room was still better; while a seat in the standing-room, with one hand on the tiller, in charge of the craft, was the most delightful recreation which the earth had yet presented me. The kitchen of the Marian was substantially the same as that of the Florina, where I had cooked a great many suppers. I knew where to find everything without being told, and I was at home at once.

In looking over the stores, I found what seemed to me to be a month's supply. I knew that Mr. Waterford had expected a party of half a dozen; but the provision lockers contained enough to dine a hundred. There was a great quantity of substantials, such as pork, ham, potatoes, and beef. I thought he had been very lavish for a party for a single day. The bin for charcoal, which was the fuel used in the stove, was filled full.

I selected a nice slice of beefsteak, and proceeded to cut up the potatoes I was to fry. I was soon very busy, and wholly absorbed in my occupation. I enjoyed it, and though it may not be the highest ambition to be a cook, it is a very useful employment. There is an art about cooking; and as I fried the potatoes, I thought it required just as much science as it did to keep a set of books. If I had had Mrs. Whippleton's treasure safe in my possession, I should have been superlatively happy. I cooked all the potatoes I thought would be required for dinner, even giving Miss Collingsby credit for an unfashionably good appetite. The tea-kettle was boiling, and I was just going to fill up the coffee-pot, when a shrill scream startled me, and dissolved the spell which the delights of my occupation had woven around me.

It was the voice of a lady, and of course it could be no other than that of our beautiful passenger. At first it occurred to me that the boom had swung over, and hit her upon the head; but the boat was still heeled over to the leeward, as she had been for the last hour; and I knew that the boom could not go over unless the boat came up to an even keel. Then it flashed upon me that either the skipper or his fair companion had fallen overboard. But I did not wait to discuss probabilities or possibilities; I hastened on deck, passing through the fore scuttle, which I had opened to give me air and light.

When I reached the deck, I was satisfied that the boom had not been the author of the mischief, and that neither of the parties had fallen overboard. The Marian still held her course towards the south-east, and the skipper and the lady were both in the standing-room, though not in the same position that I left them half an hour before. Mr. Waterford was at the helm, of course; but Miss Collingsby was seated as far from him as the limits of the seats would permit. I went aft, and saw that the fair young lady was very red in the face, and apparently very angry. I was puzzled at the situation, and quite unable to explain it.

"Is dinner ready, Phil?" asked Mr. Waterford.

"Not yet."

"Well, hurry it up. We are growing hungry," added the skipper; but I saw that his desire to get rid of me was greater than his appetite.

"I heard a scream here," I replied, determined not to be put out of the way, if my presence or my assistance was needed.

"No, you didn't. That was nothing. Miss Collingsby was singing on the high notes."

I glanced at her. She did not look cheerful enough to sing, but angry enough to touch the high notes, though not the melodious ones.

"I will go down and see you cook, Phil," said she, with a struggle to appear composed, though it was not a success.

I descended to the cabin, and turned to assist her down the steps.

"Stop a few moments, Miss Collingsby, if you please," interposed Mr. Waterford. "I wish to speak to you."

"I will come up again," she replied, leaping lightly upon the cabin floor.

"I am afraid you will find the cook-room rather hot for you," I added, as I led the way forward.

I opened the door into the kitchen, and gave her a seat within the cabin, where she could observe all that was done. I fancied, however, that she did not care much just then how beefsteak and sliced potatoes were cooked on board of a yacht, and that she only desired to escape from the presence of the gallant skipper.

I put the beefsteak upon the stove. I had set the table after preparing the potatoes, and I had nothing to do but watch the meat.

"That is a real nice little place, Phil," said Miss Collingsby; and her tones indicated that she had not yet recovered her self-possession.

"It is rather small, though it is as roomy as any yacht of this size can have."

"I think it is quite cool, with that scuttle open."

"I don't mind the heat; but I am used to it."

"Do you think we shall overtake Mr. Whippleton, Phil?" asked she, after a pause, during which I turned the steak.

"I don't think we have gained on her any yet," I replied.

"I don't believe he means to catch her," added my fair companion, with a very anxious expression.

"We are certainly following the Florina, though we are at least three miles from her. I don't think we shall overhaul her till she comes about, or makes a harbor."

There was another pause: and when I saw how anxious Miss Collingsby was, I could not help feeling a strong sympathy with her. The scream had not yet been explained to me; but I concluded that the gallant skipper had alarmed her by being too demonstrative in his attentions.

"Do you know where we are going?" she inquired.

"I do not; only that we are to join Mr. Whippleton."

"I wish I was on shore again," said she, with a sigh.

"Why?" I asked, in the simplicity of my heart; for I thought, if she was fond of sailing, that she ought to enjoy the trip, for certainly nothing could be pleasanter.

"I have been very imprudent. I ought not to have come," she replied, in a low tone.

"Did you scream?" I ventured to inquire, in a whisper.

"I did."

"What was the matter?"

"I have been very imprudent," she repeated, her face glowing with confusion.

"I hope he didn't harm you."

"O, no! He didn't mean to harm me; but he was impudent and insulting. I will never speak to him again, as long as I live!"

"Of course your father knew you were coming with Mr. Waterford."

"No; he did not; but my mother did. My father is very stern, and very particular, I suppose you know. He hates Mr. Waterford, while my mother thinks he is a very fine man. But my mother told me not to come with him unless there were other ladies in the party."

"He seems to have a very high regard for you," said I. "He has named his boat after you."

"But I have been very imprudent, Phil. I am afraid of Mr. Waterford."

"You need not be afraid of him. I will see that no harm comes to you, and that you return home safely."

"You are my father's clerk--are you not?"

"I am."

"I saw you at the house this morning; and I have heard that you were a very good young man. You will not let him harm me."

"Certainly not."

She was really terrified, though I could not see any good reason for her fears.

"You must be very watchful, too," she added.

"Why, what do you fear?"

"He means to get rid of you," she answered, her face crimson with blushes.

"To get rid of me!" I exclaimed.

"He said so to me. You will not expose my weakness, if I tell you all, Philip?" said she, the tears starting in her beautiful eyes; and really I felt like crying myself.

"Not a word, nor a hint," I protested.

"Mr. Waterford has been very attentive to me for a year; and I confess that I liked him. But my father said he was an unprincipled man."

"Your father was right."

"I fear he was. Mr. Waterford asked me, several weeks ago, to run away with him, and be married in some town on the other side of the lake. I was weak enough to listen to him, but not to accept his proposition. He repeated it to-day, and with some familiarity which frightened me, and made me scream. I never was so alarmed before in my life."

"What did he do?"

"He put his arm around me, and attempted to kiss me," said she, desperately. "Now you know the worst."

I did not think it was so bad as it might be, after she had encouraged him by listening to his proposals.

"He is a bad man. I begin to be of my father's opinion in regard to him."

"Mr. Whippleton is another bad man," I added.

"Mr. Whippleton! What, my father's partner?"

At the risk of letting the beef be burned, I told her briefly the history of the man, and that he was even then running from the officer, while I was in pursuit of him.

"Dear me! What will become of me!" she exclaimed.

"Don't be afraid of anything. I will protect you."

"But you don't know the worst!"

"Do you?"

"I think I do. He has decoyed me into this boat, and he means to get rid of you. He told me so. Then he will take me to some town on the lake, if he can persuade me to accept his proposal. Don't leave me, Phil! Don't let him get rid of you!"

"I will not."

"I think I understand him perfectly, now; and I feel very miserable to think I disregarded the instructions of my mother. He will persecute me till I consent to his proposal," continued the poor girl, wiping away her tears. "I shall depend upon you for my safety, Philip."

"I will not fail you, Miss Collingsby. I do not mean to lose sight of Mr. Whippleton, and I have no idea of being thrust out of the way," I replied, as I dished up the beefsteak, and put the plate on the table.

"Dinner is ready," I shouted, when I had placed the potatoes and coffee on the table.

My mission below for the present was accomplished, and I went on deck by the fore scuttle. I looked for the Florina as soon as I went up, and found that she had hauled her wind, and was standing towards the Illinois shore of the lake. The Marian had followed her example. I saw the former enter a creek soon after, where she disappeared from our view. I knew the locality very well, for I had been up the creek in the Florina with Mr. Whippleton. The mouth of it was a broad lagoon, which extends into a series of swamps.

"Take the helm, Phil," said Mr. Waterford, as I walked aft to the standing-room. "Is dinner on the table?"

"Yes, all ready."

"Head her into the creek, Phil, and we will land there," added he, as he went below, leaving me in charge of the yacht.

I could not help thinking that Miss Collingsby was more frightened than hurt. She was certainly a beautiful girl, and was sure to have a princely dowry when she was married. I could not blame Mr. Waterford for wanting her, and I was confident Mr. Collingsby would never consent to such a match. Without appearing to be suspicious, I intended to watch the skipper closely, and if he attempted to get rid of me, he would find it would take two to make that bargain.

Before the interesting couple in the cabin had finished their dinner, I ran the Marian into the creek. When the skipper came on deck, he immediately anchored the yacht, near the south bank of the lagoon. After I had eaten my dinner, he took the small boat, and wished me to go on shore with him, as Miss Collingsby declined to land.