The Skippers Wooing | Page 5

very much interested, ma'am," said the skipper defiantly; "besides, when I'm looking for poor Jackson, who knows I mightn't run up against the other."
"Ah! who knows but what you might," said the old woman. "There's one gentleman looking for him now--Mr. Glover, my daughter's husband that is to be."
There was a long pause, then the skipper, by dint of combining his entire stock of Christianity and politeness, found speech. "I hope he finds him," he said slowly.
"All that a man can do he's doing," said the old lady. "He's a commercial traveller by trade, and he gets about a great deal in the way of business."
"Have you tried advertising?" inquired the skipper, striving manfully to keep his interest up to its former pitch.
The other shook her head and looked uneasily at her daughter.
"It wouldn't be any good," she said in a low voice--"it wouldn't be any good."
"Well, I don't want to pry into your business in any way," said Wilson, "but I go into a good many ports in the course of the year, and if you think it would be any use my looking about I'll be pleased and proud to do so, if you'll give me some idea of who to look for."
The old lady fidgeted with all the manner of one half desiring and half fearing to divulge a secret.
"You see we lost him in rather peculiar circumstances," she said, glancing uneasily at her daughter again. "He--"
"I don't want to know anything about that, you know, ma'am," interposed the skipper gently.
"It would be no good advertising for my father," said the girl in her clear voice, "because he can neither read nor write. He is a very passionate, hasty man, and five years ago he struck a man down and thought he had killed him. We have seen nothing and heard nothing of him since."
"He must have been a strong man," commented the skipper.
"He had something in his hand," said the girl, bending low over her work. "But he didn't hurt him really. The man was at work two days after, and he bears him no ill-will at all."
"He might be anywhere," said the skipper, meditating.
"He would be sure to be where there are ships," said the old lady; "I'm certain of it. You see he was captain of a ship himself a good many years, and for one thing he couldn't live away from the water, and for another it's the only way he has of getting a living, poor man--unless he's gone to sea again, which isn't likely."
"Coasting trade, I suppose?" said the skipper, glancing at two or three small craft which were floating in oil round the walls.
The old lady nodded. "Those were his ships," she said, following his glance; "but the painters never could get the clouds to please him. I shouldn't think there was a man in all England harder to please with clouds than he was."
"What sort of looking man is he?" inquired Wilson.
"I'll get you a portrait," said the old lady, and she rose and left the room.
The girl from her seat in the window by the geraniums stitched on steadily. The skipper, anxious to appear at his ease, coughed gently three times, and was on the very verge of a remark--about the weather--when she turned her head and became absorbed in something outside. The skipper fell to regarding the clouds again with even more disfavor than the missing captain himself could have shown.
"That was taken just before he disappeared," said the old lady, entering the room again and handing him a photograph. "You can keep that."
The skipper took it and gazed intently at the likeness of a sturdy full-bearded man of about sixty. Then he placed it carefully in his breast-pocket and rose to his feet.
"And if I should happen to drop across him," he said slowly, "what might his name be?"
"Gething," said the old lady, "Captain Gething. If you should see him, and would tell him that he has nothing to fear, and that his wife and his daughter Annis are dying to see him, you will have done what I can never, never properly thank you for."
"I'll do my best," said the other warmly. "Good-afternoon."
He shook hands with the old woman, and then, standing with his hands by his side, looked doubtfully at Annis.
"Good-afternoon," she said cheerfully.
Mrs. Gething showed him to the door.
"Any time you are at Gravesend, captain, we shall be pleased to see you and hear how you get on," she said as she let him out.
The captain thanked her, pausing at the gate to glance covertly at the window; but the girl was bending over her work again, and he walked away rapidly.
Until he had reached his ship and was sitting down to his belated dinner he had almost forgotten, in the joyful excitement