The Lively Poll | Page 9

touch of resentment. "I did not mean to go, but it's as well that I did, for I've rescued a letter from Dick Martin which seems to be of some importance, an' he says he stole it from his sister's house."
He handed the letter to the girl, who at once recognised it as the epistle over which she and Mrs Martin had puzzled so much, and which had finally been deciphered for them by Dick Martin.
"He must have made up his mind to pretend that he is Fred," said Isa, "and so get anything that was intended for him."
"You're a sharp girl, Isa; you've hit the nail fair on the head, for I heard him in his drunken swagger boast of his intention to do that very thing. Now, will you take in hand, lass, to give the letter back to Mrs Martin, and explain how you came by it?"
Of course Isa agreed to do so, and Lockley, turning to Eve, said he would tell her a story before going home.
The handsome young skipper was in the habit of entertaining the sick child with marvellous tales of the sea during his frequent visits, for he was exceedingly fond of her, and never failed to call during his periodical returns to land. His love was well bestowed, for poor Eve, besides being of an affectionate nature, was an extremely imaginative child, and delighted in everything marvellous or romantic. On this occasion, however, he was interrupted at the commencement of his tale by the entrance of his own ship's cook, the boy Bob Lumsden, alias Lumpy.
"Hullo, Lumpy, what brings you here?" asked the skipper.
But the boy made no answer. He was evidently taken aback at the unexpected sight of the sick child, and the skipper had to repeat his question in a sterner tone. Even then Lumpy did not look at his commander, but, addressing the child, said--
"Beg parding, miss; I wouldn't have come in if I'd knowed you was in bed, but--"
"Oh, never mind," interrupted Eve, with a little smile, on seeing that he hesitated; "my friends never see me except in bed. Indeed I live in bed; but you must not think I'm lazy. It's only that my back's bad. Come in and sit down."
"Well, boy," demanded the skipper again, "were you sent here to find me?"
"Yes, sir," said Lumpy, with his eyes still fixed on the earnest little face of Eve. "Mister Jay sent me to say he wants to speak to you about the heel o' the noo bowsprit."
"Tell him I'll be aboard in half an hour."
"I didn't know before," said Eve, "that bowsprits have heels."
At this Lumpy opened his large mouth, nearly shut his small eyes, and was on the point of giving vent to a rousing laugh, when his commander half rose and seized hold of a wooden stool. The boy shut his mouth instantly, and fled into the street, where he let go the laugh which had been thus suddenly checked.
"Well, she is a rum 'un!" he said to himself, as he rolled in a nautical fashion down to the wharf where the Lively Poll was undergoing repairs.
"I think he's a funny boy, that," said Eve, as the skipper stooped to kiss her.
"Yes, he is a funny dog. Good-bye, my pretty one."
"Stay," said Eve solemnly, as she laid her delicate little hand on the huge brown fist of the fisherman; "you've often told me stories, Stephen; I want to tell one to you to-night. You need not sit down; it's a very, very short one."
But the skipper did sit down, and listened with a look of interest and expectation as the child began--
"There was once a great, strong, brave man, who was very kind to everybody, most of all to little children. One day he was walking near a river, when a great, fearful, ugly beast, came out of the wood, and seized the man with its terrible teeth. It was far stronger than the dear, good man, and it threw him down, and held him down, till--till it killed him."
She stopped, and tears filled her soft eyes at the scene she had conjured up.
"Do you know," she asked in a deeper tone, "what sort of awful beast it was?"
"No; what was it?"
"A Blue Boar," said the child, pressing the strong hand which she detained.
Lockley's eyes fell for a moment before Eve's earnest gaze, and a flush deepened the colour of his bronzed countenance. Then he sprang suddenly up and kissed Eve's forehead.
"Thank you, my pretty one, for your story, but it an't just correct, for the man is not quite killed yet and, please God, he'll escape."
As he spoke the door of the hut received a severe blow, as if some heavy body had fallen against it. When Isa opened it, a dirty bundle