Dawn: Chapter 64
Chapter 64
When Mildred received Lady Bellamy's telegram, she was so sure that it
would prove the forerunner of Arthur's arrival at Madeira that she had
at once set about making arrangements for his amusement.
It so happened that there was at the time a very beautiful sea-going
steam yacht of about two hundred and fifty tons burden lying in the
roadstead. She belonged to a nobleman who was suddenly recalled to
England by mail-steamer, and, through a series of chances, Mildred was
enabled to buy her a bargain. The crew of the departed nobleman also
continued in her service.
The morning after the storm broke sweet and clear, and, except that
the flowers were somewhat shattered, all Nature looked the fresher for
its violent visitation. Arthur, who had come up early to the Quinta,
Mildred, and Miss Terry were all seated at breakfast in a room that
looked out to the sea, which, although the wind had died away, still
ran rather high. They made a pretty picture as they sat round the
English-looking breakfast-table, with the light pouring in upon them
from the open windows, Miss Terry, with her usual expression of good-
humoured solemnity, pouring out the tea, and Mildred and Arthur, who
sat exactly opposite to each other, drinking it. Never had the former
looked more lovely than she did that morning.
"My dear," said Agatha to her, "what have you done to yourself? You
look beautiful."
"Do I, dear? Then it is because I am happy."
Agatha was quite right, thought Arthur, she did look beautiful, there
was such depth and rest in her clear eyes, such a wealth of happy
triumph written on her features. She might have sat that morning as a
study of the "Venus Victrix." Her talk, too, was as bright as herself.
She laughed and shone and sparkled like the rain-drops on the bamboo
sprays that rocked in the sunshine, and whenever she addressed herself
to Arthur, which was often enough, every sentence seemed wrapped in
tender meaning. Her whole life went out towards him, a palpable thing;
she waited on his words and basked in his smile. Mildred Carr did
nothing by halves.
Arthur was the least cheerful of the three, though at times he tried
his best to join in Mildred's merriment. Any one who knew him well
could have told that he was suffering from one of his fits of
constitutional melancholy, and a physiognomist, looking at the
somewhat dreamy eyes and pensive face, would probably have added that
he neither was nor ever would be an entirely happy man.
By degrees, however, he seemed to get the better of his thoughts,
whatever they might be.
"Now, Arthur, if you are quite awake," began, or rather went on,
Mildred, "perhaps you will come to the window. I have something to
show you."
"Here I am at your service; what may it be?"
"Good. Now look; do you see that little vessel in the bay beneath
there to the right of Leeuw Rock?"
"Yes, and uncommonly pretty she is; what of her?"
"What of her? Why, she is my yacht."
"Your yacht?"
"Goodness gracious, Mildred, you don't mean to say that you've been
buying a yacht and told me nothing about it? Just think! Well, I call
that sly."
"Yes, my dear Agatha, I have; a yacht and a ready-made crew, and the
very prettiest saloon in the world, and sleeping-cabins that you will
think it an honour to be sea-sick in, and a cook's galley with bright
copper fittings, and a cook with a white cap, and steam-steering gear
if you care to use it, and----"
"For goodness sake, don't overwhelm us; and what are you going to do
with your white elephant, now that you have got it?"
"Do with it? why, ride on it, of course. 'Ladies and gentlemen,' or
rather 'lady and gentleman.' Attention! You will both be in marching,
or rather in sailing, order by four this afternoon, for at five we
start for the Canaries. Now, no remarks; I'm a skipper, and I expect
to be obeyed, or I'll put you in irons."
"You've done that already," said Arthur, _sotto voce_.
"Mildred, I won't go, and that's flat."
"My dear, you mean that you are afraid of being flat. But, Agatha,
seriously, you must come; nobody is sick in those semi-tropical
waters, and, if you won't, I suppose it would not be quite the thing
for Arthur and I to go alone. And then, my dear, just think what a
splendid place the Canaries must be for insects."
"Why?" asked Agatha, solemnly.
"Because of all the little birds it has to support."
"But I thought they lived on hemp-seed."
"Oh, no--not in their native land."
"Well, I suppose I must go; but I really believe that you will kill me
with your mania for sea-voyages, Mildred. I suppose you will take to
ballooning next."
"That is by no means a bad idea; I should like to see you in a
balloon, Agatha."
"Mildred, I know where to draw the line. Into a balloon I will never
go. I have been into a Madeira sledge, and that is quite enough for
me. I always dream about it twice a week."
"Well, my dear, I promise never to ask you when I want to go
ballooning; Arthur and I will go by ourselves. It would be a grand
opportunity for a tete-a-tete. And now go and see about getting the
things ready--there's a dear; and, Arthur, do you send John down to
Miles' for your portmanteau."
"Hadn't I better go and see about it myself?"
"Certainly not; I want you to help me, and come down and talk to the
skipper, for he will be under your orders, you know. He is such a
delightful sailor-man, perfect down to his quid, and always says, 'Ay,
ay,' in the orthodox fashion. Certainly you must not go; I will not
trust you out of my sight--you might run away and leave me alone, and
then what should I do?"
Arthur laughed and acquiesced. Sitting down, he wrote a note asking
the manager of the hotel to send his things up to the Quinta Carr,
together with his account, as he was leaving Madeira for the present.
The rest of the morning was spent by everybody in busy preparation.
Boxes were packed and provisions shipped sufficient to victual an
Arctic expedition. At last everything was ready, and at a little after
three they went down the steps leading to the tiny bay, and, embarking
on the smart boat that was waiting for them, were conveyed in safety
to the _Evening Star_, for such was the yacht's name. Arthur suggested
that it should be changed to the _Mildred Carr_, and got snubbed for
his pains.
The _Evening Star_ was a beautiful craft, built on fine lines, but for
all that a wonderful boat in a heavy sea. She was a three-masted
schooner, square-rigged forward, of large beam. Her fittings below
were perfect down to the painted panels after Watteau in the saloon
and the electric bells, and she was rigged either to sail or steam as
might be most convenient. On the present occasion, as there was not
the slightest hurry and no danger of a lee-shore, it was determined
that they should not avail themselves of the steam-power, so the
propeller was hoisted up and everything got ready for that most
delightful thing, a long cruise under canvas.
Arthur was perfectly charmed with everything he saw, and so was Agatha
Terry, until they got under way, when she discovered that a mail-
steamer was a joke compared with the yacht in the matter of motion. In
short, the unfortunate Agatha was soon reduced to her normal condition
of torpor. Mildred always declared that she hibernated on board ship
like a dormouse or a bear. She was not very sea-sick, she simply lay
and slept, eating very little and thinking not at all.
"By the way," said Arthur, as they sailed out of the bay, "I never
gave any directions about my letters."
"Oh! that will not matter," answered Mildred, carelessly, for they
were leaning over the taffrail together; "they will keep them for you
at 'Miles' Hotel.' But, my dear boy, do you know what time it is? Ten
minutes to seven; that dreadful bell with be going in a minute, and
the soup will be spoiled. Run and get ready, do."