A Knight of the Nets | Page 2

afternoon, the girl had been some hours mending the pile
of nets at her feet; but at length they were in perfect order, and she
threw her arms upward and outward to relieve their weariness, and then
went to the open door. The tide was coming in, but the children were
still paddling in the salt pools and on the cold bladder rack, and she
stepped forward to the edge of the cliff, and threw them some wild
geranium and ragwort. Then she stood motionless in the bright sunlight,

looking down the shingle towards the pier and the little tavern, from
which came, in drowsy tones, the rough monotonous songs which
seamen delight to sing--songs, full of the complaining of the sea,
interpreted by the hoarse, melancholy voices of sea faring men.
Standing thus in the clear light, her great beauty was not to be denied.
She was tall and not too slender; and at this moment, the set of her head
was like that of a thoroughbred horse, when it pricks its ears to listen.
She had soft brown eyes, with long lashes and heavy eyebrows--eyes,
reflecting the lances of light that darted in and out of the shifting
clouds--an open air complexion, dazzling, even teeth, an abundance of
dark, rippling hair, and a flush of ardent life opening her wide nostrils,
and stirring gently the exquisite mould of her throat and bust. The
moral impression she gave was that of a pure, strong, compassionate
woman; cool-headed, but not cold; capable of vigorous joys and griefs.
After a few minutes' investigation, she went back to the cottage, and
stood in the open doorway, with her head leaning against the lintel. Her
mother had begun to prepare the evening meal; fresh fish were frying
on the fire, and the oat cakes toasting before it. Yet, as she moved
rapidly about, she was watching her daughter and very soon she gave
words to the thoughts troubling and perplexing her motherly
speculations.
"Christina," she said, "you'll not require to be looking for Andrew. The
lad is ben the house; he has been asleep ever since he eat his dinner."
"I know that, Mother."
"Well then, if it is Jamie Logan, let me tell you it is a poor business. I
have a fear and an inward down-sinking anent that young man."
"Perfect nonsense, Mother! There is nothing to fear you about Jamie."
"What good ever came through folk saved from the sea? Tell me that,
Christina! They bring sorrow back with them. That is a fact none will
deny."

"What could Andrew do but save the lad?"
"Why was the lad running before such a sea? He should have got into
harbour; there was time enough. And if it was Andrew's duty to save
him, it is not your duty to be loving him. You may take that much sense
from me, anyway."
"Whist, Mother! He has not said a word of love to me."
"He perfectly changes colours every time he sees you, and why so, if it
be not for love of you? I am not liking the look of the thing, Christina,
and your brother is not liking it; and if you don't take care of yourself,
you'll be in a burning fever of first love, and beyond all reasoning.
Even now, you are making yourself a speculation to the whole village."
"Jamie is a straight-forward lad. I'm thinking he would lay his life
down for me."
"I thought he had not said a word of love to you."
"A girl knows some things that are not told her."
"Very fine; but it will not be the fashion now to lie down and die for
Annie Laurie, or any other lass. A young man who wants a wife must
bustle around and get siller to keep her with. Getting married, these
days is not a thing to make a song about. You are but a young thing yet,
Christina, and you have much to learn."
"Would you not like to be young again, Mother?"
"No, I would not! I would not risk it. Besides, it would be going back;
and I want to go forward and upward. But you need not try to turn the
talk from Jamie Logan that way. I'll say again what I said before, you
will be in a fever of first love, and not to be reasoned with, if you don't
take care of yourself."
The girl flushed hotly, came into the house, and began to re-arrange the
teacups with a nervous haste; for she heard Jamie's steps on the rocky

road, and his voice, clear as a blackbird's, whistling gayly "In the Bay
of Biscay O!"
"The teacups are all right, Christina. I am talking anent Jamie Logan.
The lad is just a temptation to you;