A Master of Craft | Page 7

about him?" demanded Flower.
"I know what she told me," said Fraser; "the idea of a man leaving a poor girl in a cake-shop and doing a bolt. He'll be punished for it, I know. He's a thoughtless, inconsiderate fellow, but one of the best-hearted chaps in the world, and I guess I'll do the best I can for him."
Flower grinned safely in the darkness. "And any little help I can give you, Jack, I'll give freely," he said, softly. "We'll talk it over at breakfast."
The mate took the hint, and, moving off, folded his arms on the taffrail, and, looking idly astern, fell into a reverie. Like the Pharisee, he felt thankful that he was not as other men, and dimly pitied the skipper and his prosaic entanglements, as he thought of Poppy. He looked behind at the dark and silent city, and felt a new affection for it, as he reflected that she was sleeping there.
The two men commenced their breakfast in silence, the skipper eating with a zest which caused the mate to allude impatiently to the last break-fasts of condemned men.
"Shut the skylight, Jack," said the skipper, at length, as he poured out his third cup of coffee.
Fraser complied, and resuming his seat gazed at him with almost indecent expectancy. The skipper dropped some sugar into his coffee, and stirring it in a meditative fashion, sighed gently.
"I've been making a fool of myself, Jack," he said, at length. "I was always one to be fond of a little bit of adventure, but this goes a little too far, even for me."
"But what did you get engaged to her for?" enquired Fraser.
Flower shook his head. "She fell violently in love with me," he said, mournfully. "She keeps the Blue Posts up at Chelsea. Her father left it to her. She manages her step-mother and her brother and everybody else. I was just a child in her hands. You know my easy-going nature."
"But you made love to her," expostulated the mate.
"In a way, I suppose I did," admitted the other. "I don't know now whether she could have me up for breach of promise, because when I asked her I did it this way. I said, 'Will you be Mrs. Robinson?' What do you think?"
"I should think it would make it harder for you," said Fraser. "But didn't you remember Miss Banks while all this was going on?"
"In a way," said Flower, "yes--in a way. But after a man's been engaged to a woman nine years, it's very easy to forget, and every year makes it easier. Besides, I was only a boy when I was engaged to her."
"Twenty-eight," said Fraser.
"Anyway, I wasn't old enough to know my own mind," said Flower, "and my uncle and old Mrs. Banks made it up between them. They arranged everything, and I can't afford to offend the old man. If I married Miss Tipping--that's the Blue Posts girl--he'd leave his money away from me; and if I marry Elizabeth, Miss Tipping'll have me up for breach of promise--if she finds me."
"If you're not very careful," said Fraser, impressively, "you'll lose both of 'em."
The skipper leaned over the table, and glanced carefully round. "Just what I want to do," he said, in a low voice. "I'm engaged to another girl."
"What?" cried the mate, raising his voice. "Three?"
"Three," repeated the skipper. "Only three," he added, hastily, as he saw a question trembling on the other's lips.
"I'm ashamed of you," said the latter, severely; "you ought to know better."
"I don't want any of your preaching, Jack," said the skipper, briskly; "and, what's more, I won't have it. I deserve more pity than blame."
"You'll want all you can get," said Fraser, ominously. "And does the other girl know of any of the others?"
"Of either of the others--no," corrected Flower. "Of course, none of them know. You don't think I'm a fool, do you?"
"Who is number three?" enquired the mate suddenly.
"Poppy Tyrell," replied the other.
"Oh," said Fraser, trying to speak unconcernedly; "the girl who came here last evening."
Flower nodded. "She's the one I'm going to marry," he said, colouring. "I'd sooner marry her than command a liner. I'll marry her if I lose every penny I'm going to have, but I'm not going to lose the money if I can help it. I want both."
The mate baled out his cup with a spoon and put the contents into the saucer.
"I'm a sort of guardian to her," said Flower. "Her father, Captain Tyrell, died about a year ago, and I promised him I'd look after her and marry her. It's a sacred promise."
"Besides, you want to," said Fraser, by no means in the mood to allow his superior any credit in the matter, "else you wouldn't do it."
"You don't know me, Jack," said the skipper, more in sorrow