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"I said so? Not if I was awake."
"You stupid!" laughed the lady. "They are potatoes."
"O, are they? Then we have plenty of them. They say that a rose by any other name smells as sweet; and I suppose a potato in any other language tastes the same. Very well. Get up a good dinner, Phil; one fit for a queen--for a queen is to eat it."
"How silly!" said Miss Collingsby, as I went below.
"Better and fairer than any queen."
"I declare, Mr. Waterford, you are becoming insufferable. I shall have to go down there and help Phil get dinner. Besides, I want to talk French with him. And I want to see the kitchen."
I pa.s.sed through the cabin into the little cook-room, in the forecastle, where I lighted the fire.
CHAPTER XVI.
IN WHICH PHIL PROMISES NOT TO DESERT MISS COLLINGSBY.
If I had not been so anxious to overtake Mr. Whippleton, I should have enjoyed my occupation in the cook-room of the Marian much better. Being in a boat at all was a very pleasant thing to me; a place in the cook-room was still better; while a seat in the standing-room, with one hand on the tiller, in charge of the craft, was the most delightful recreation which the earth had yet presented me. The kitchen of the Marian was substantially the same as that of the Florina, where I had cooked a great many suppers. I knew where to find everything without being told, and I was at home at once.
In looking over the stores, I found what seemed to me to be a month's supply. I knew that Mr. Waterford had expected a party of half a dozen; but the provision lockers contained enough to dine a hundred. There was a great quant.i.ty of substantials, such as pork, ham, potatoes, and beef. I thought he had been very lavish for a party for a single day.
The bin for charcoal, which was the fuel used in the stove, was filled full.
I selected a nice slice of beefsteak, and proceeded to cut up the potatoes I was to fry. I was soon very busy, and wholly absorbed in my occupation. I enjoyed it, and though it may not be the highest ambition to be a cook, it is a very useful employment. There is an art about cooking; and as I fried the potatoes, I thought it required just as much science as it did to keep a set of books. If I had had Mrs.
Whippleton's treasure safe in my possession, I should have been superlatively happy. I cooked all the potatoes I thought would be required for dinner, even giving Miss Collingsby credit for an unfas.h.i.+onably good appet.i.te. The tea-kettle was boiling, and I was just going to fill up the coffee-pot, when a shrill scream startled me, and dissolved the spell which the delights of my occupation had woven around me.
It was the voice of a lady, and of course it could be no other than that of our beautiful pa.s.senger. At first it occurred to me that the boom had swung over, and hit her upon the head; but the boat was still heeled over to the leeward, as she had been for the last hour; and I knew that the boom could not go over unless the boat came up to an even keel. Then it flashed upon me that either the skipper or his fair companion had fallen overboard. But I did not wait to discuss probabilities or possibilities; I hastened on deck, pa.s.sing through the fore scuttle, which I had opened to give me air and light.
When I reached the deck, I was satisfied that the boom had not been the author of the mischief, and that neither of the parties had fallen overboard. The Marian still held her course towards the south-east, and the skipper and the lady were both in the standing-room, though not in the same position that I left them half an hour before. Mr. Waterford was at the helm, of course; but Miss Collingsby was seated as far from him as the limits of the seats would permit. I went aft, and saw that the fair young lady was very red in the face, and apparently very angry. I was puzzled at the situation, and quite unable to explain it.
"Is dinner ready, Phil?" asked Mr. Waterford.
"Not yet."
"Well, hurry it up. We are growing hungry," added the skipper; but I saw that his desire to get rid of me was greater than his appet.i.te.
"I heard a scream here," I replied, determined not to be put out of the way, if my presence or my a.s.sistance was needed.
"No, you didn't. That was nothing. Miss Collingsby was singing on the high notes."
I glanced at her. She did not look cheerful enough to sing, but angry enough to touch the high notes, though not the melodious ones.
"I will go down and see you cook, Phil," said she, with a struggle to appear composed, though it was not a success.
I descended to the cabin, and turned to a.s.sist her down the steps.
"Stop a few moments, Miss Collingsby, if you please," interposed Mr.
Waterford. "I wish to speak to you."
"I will come up again," she replied, leaping lightly upon the cabin floor.
"I am afraid you will find the cook-room rather hot for you," I added, as I led the way forward.
I opened the door into the kitchen, and gave her a seat within the cabin, where she could observe all that was done. I fancied, however, that she did not care much just then how beefsteak and sliced potatoes were cooked on board of a yacht, and that she only desired to escape from the presence of the gallant skipper.
I put the beefsteak upon the stove. I had set the table after preparing the potatoes, and I had nothing to do but watch the meat.
"That is a real nice little place, Phil," said Miss Collingsby; and her tones indicated that she had not yet recovered her self-possession.
"It is rather small, though it is as roomy as any yacht of this size can have."
"I think it is quite cool, with that scuttle open."
"I don't mind the heat; but I am used to it."
"Do you think we shall overtake Mr. Whippleton, Phil?" asked she, after a pause, during which I turned the steak.
"I don't think we have gained on her any yet," I replied.
"I don't believe he means to catch her," added my fair companion, with a very anxious expression.
"We are certainly following the Florina, though we are at least three miles from her. I don't think we shall overhaul her till she comes about, or makes a harbor."
There was another pause: and when I saw how anxious Miss Collingsby was, I could not help feeling a strong sympathy with her. The scream had not yet been explained to me; but I concluded that the gallant skipper had alarmed her by being too demonstrative in his attentions.
"Do you know where we are going?" she inquired.
"I do not; only that we are to join Mr. Whippleton."
"I wish I was on sh.o.r.e again," said she, with a sigh.
"Why?" I asked, in the simplicity of my heart; for I thought, if she was fond of sailing, that she ought to enjoy the trip, for certainly nothing could be pleasanter.
"I have been very imprudent. I ought not to have come," she replied, in a low tone.
"Did you scream?" I ventured to inquire, in a whisper.
"I did."
"What was the matter?"
"I have been very imprudent," she repeated, her face glowing with confusion.
"I hope he didn't harm you."