Marjorie Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  A MAID CALLED BARBARA

  I suppose the Skull and Spectacles was not quite the best place in theworld for a lad of my age, and perhaps for some lads it might have beenfruitful of evil. But I found then, and have found all through my life,an infinite deal of entertainment in studying the ways and humours ofall kinds of fellowships, without of necessity accommodating myself tothe morals or the manners of the company. I have been very happy withgipsies on a common, though I never poisoned a pig or coped a nag. Ihave mixed much with sailors of all kinds, than whom no betterfellows--the best of them, and that is the greater part--exist on earth,and no worse the worse; and yet I think I have not been stained with allthe soils of the sea. I have been with pirates, and thieves, andsoldiers of fortune, and gentlemen of blood, and highway robbers; andonce I supped with a hangman--off boiled rabbit and tripe, an excellentalliance in a dish--and all this without being myself either pirate,highwayman, or yet hangman. It is not always a man's company, but mostlya man's mind, that makes him what he is or is not. If a man is going tobe a pitiful fellow and sorry knave, I am afraid you will not save himby the companionship of a synod of bishops; nor will you spoil a finefellow if he occasionally rubs shoulders with rogues and vagabonds.

  The girl at the Skull and Spectacles was kind to me, partly, perhaps,because I differed somewhat from the ordinary ruck of customers of theSkull and Spectacles. Had it been known that that crazy, villainous oldalehouse contained such a pearl, I make no doubt that the favour of theplace would have gone up, and its customers improved in outward seeming,if not in inward merits or morals. The gallants of the town--for we hadour gallants even in that tranquil seaport--would have been assailed bya thirst that naught save Nantz and schnapps and strong ale of the Skulland Spectacles could assuage, and the gentlemen of the Chisholm Huntwould have discovered that the only way after a run with the harrierswas through the vilest part of the town and among the oozy timbers ofthe wharves which formed the kingdom of the Skull and Spectacles.

  "SHE HAD ALWAYS A PLEASANT SMILE FOR ME WHEN I CAME."]

  But few of the townspeople knew of the Skull and Spectacles. It neverthought to stretch its custom into the higher walks of life. It throveon its own clients, its high-booted, thick-bearded, shaggy-coatedseamen, whose dealings with the sea were more in the way of smuggling,buccaneering, scuttling, and marooning than in honest merchandise or theservice of the King. These sea-wolves liked the place famously, andwould have grievously resented the intrusion of the laced waistcoats ofthe provincial dandies or the scarlet jackets of the Chisholm Hunt. Sothe Skull and Spectacles went its own way, and a very queer way, too,unheeded and unheeding.

  How the girl and I got to be so friendly I scarcely know. It is likeenough that I thought we were more friendly than we really were, andthat the girl took my boyish homage with more indifference than Iguessed for. She had always a pleasant smile for me when I came, and shewas always ready to pass a pleasant word or two with me, even on thedays when the business in the place was at its heaviest, and when theroom was choking fit to burst with the shag-haired sea-fellows.

  But there were times, too, better times for me, or worse, it may be,when the Skull and Spectacles was almost deserted; when all its wontedcustomers were away smuggling, or buccaneering, or cutting throats, orcrimping, or following whatever was their special occupation in life.

  In such lonely times the girl was willing enough to spend half an houror more in speech with me. Of course, I fell in love with her, like thedonkey that I was, and worshipped the rotting boards of the Skull andSpectacles because she was pleased to walk upon them. Her speech was allof strange lands, and it fed my frenzy as dry wood feeds a fire. Herpeople were all sea-people, her talk was all sea-talk, her words wereall sea-words. It was a strange rapture to me to sit and listen whileshe spoke of the things that were dearest to my heart and to watch herwhile she spoke. Then I used to feel a wild, foolish longing, which Ihad never the courage to carry out, to tell her how beautiful shewas--as if she needed to be told that by me!--and how madly I loved her.All of which I very profoundly thought and believed, but all ofwhich--for I was a shy lad with women-kind--I kept very devoutly tomyself.

  I wonder if the girl had any idea of my devotion. I thought she had; Ifelt sure that my love must be as patent to her as it was to myself, andthat she must needs prize it a little. I believe, indeed, that I nevertalked to her very much during those happy times when she would come outon to the creaking terrace and speak to me of the things which she neverseemed to weary of--the sea, and ships, and seamen. As for me, who wouldnot have wearied of any theme that gave her pleasure, had it even beenbooks and lessons, I was overjoyed that my sea longings could help me onwith her.

  Then her black eyes would follow the river's course to where the estuarywidened to the sea, and search the horizon and point out to me the sailsthat starred it here and there, and sometimes say with a laugh: 'Perhapsone of those is my ship.'

  But when I asked her what was her ship she would smile and shake herhead and say nothing; and once, when I asked her if it was her father'sship, she laughed loudly and said yes, it was her father's ship shelonged for.

  So late spring slipped into early summer; and, as the year grew kinder,so every day my boy's heart grew hotter with its first foolish passion.Somewhere about the middle of June, as I knew, her birthday was; and inview of that saint's day of my calendar I had hoarded my poor pocketmoney to buy her a little toy from the jeweller in the Main Street,whose show seemed to me more opulent than the treasures of Aladdin.

  The day found me all of a tremble. I had sat up half the night lookingat my token and kissing it a thousand times. It was a little locket thatwas fashioned like a heart, and on the one side her name was engraved,and on the other mine, for I thought by this to show what I dared notsay.

  It was early when I stole from our shop, little less than ten, and Icalculated that I would look in at Mr. Davies's on my way back and makesome excuse for my truancy, and so be back in time for noonday dinner;and I knew if I were a little late my mother would forgive me. Lord, howI ran along the quays! I seemed to fly, and yet the road seemed endless.As I ran I noted that some new ships had entered the night before, andmen on the wharves were busy unloading, and sailors were lounging roundwith that foreign air which Jack always has after a cruise.

  When I got to the Skull and Spectacles the landlord was standing beforehis door smoking. As he saw me he nodded, and when I asked for Barbara,saying I had a message for her, he told me she was upstairs, and addedsomething which I did not stay to hear.

  I bounded up the crazy stairs with a beating heart. I was all on firewith excitement at the thought of offering her a gift; my blood seemedto be turned to quicksilver, and to race through its channels with afeverish swiftness.

  There was a gallery at the head of the stairs, a gallery on to whichlooked the doors of the guest-rooms of the inn--rooms where bearded menfrom over sea sometimes passed a night when they were uncertain where tojourney next, or when they were too much pleased with the liquor of theSkull and Spectacles to leave it before morning.

  As I swung round the stairs into the gallery I thought for a moment thatit was empty, as it lay before me dark and uninviting. Then from the farend came the sound of voices, laughter, and laughing expostulation--thislast in a woman's voice that I knew too well. While I stood staring, notunderstanding, and bewildered by a sudden and wholly meaningless alarm,one of the doors at the end of the gallery that was just ajar swungopen, and Barbara slipped from it, laughing, breathless, with tumbledhair and crimson cheeks. A man sprang after her and caught her,unreluctant, in his arms.

  I see the scene now as vividly as I saw it then with my despairingboyish eyes. The great strong man had his arms close about her; herdark hair was all about her face and over her shoulders as she flung herhead back to meet the great red mouth that was seeking hers. I have seensince pictures of satyrs embracing nymphs, and whenever I see them Icannot stay a shudder running through m
e as I think of that dim,creaking gallery and the dishevelled girl and the strong man and thetearful, trembling lad who beheld their passion.

  I suppose a painter would have admired the group they made; she with herbody eagerly flung forward and her beautiful face all on fire with warmanimal emotion; he, big and amber-bearded, his great mouth crushedagainst hers as if he wanted to absorb her life, and his arms about herpliant body, at once yielding and resisting in its reckless disarray.But I was not a painter--only a longshore mooncalf--and my eyes swam andmy tongue swelled till I thought it would stick between my teeth asthose of poor rogues do on the gallows, and I was chickenish enough towish to blubber. And while I stood there, stockish and stupid, the pairbecame aware of me. I do not think I made any noise, but their eyesdropped from each other and turned on me, and the man scowled a little,without loosening his hold, but the woman, no whit troubled, flung onearm away from her lover's neck and held out her hand to me, with alaugh, and greeted me merrily.

  'Why, it's little Raphael!' she said, laughing the words into the yellowbeard of the sea-thief who clipped her, and again she nodded at me, inno ways discomposed by the strangeness of her position. But I, poorfool, could not bear it, and I turned and ran down the stairs as if theDevil himself were after me.