Sustained honor Part 18

THE ENGLISHMAN'S DILEMMA.

Morgianna Lane was the brightest gem in the little Maryland village. The romantic mystery which enshrouded her birth seemed only to add to the charm about her. Of course Fernando could not long be in the village without learning that she was not the daughter of Captain Lane, but a sea waif.

Frequently foundlings have some birth mark or scar about them, or there is some letter or significant mark about their clothing by which in after years they may be identified and their parentage made known; but in the case of Morgianna there was no probability of her ident.i.ty ever being discovered. Her plump little arms were utterly devoid of scar or mark; the clothes found upon the infant had no initial whatever, and were cast aside, just as other worn-out garments.

Fernando Stevens, in due time, called on Captain Lane, whom he found to be as jolly an old Jack Tar as lives. He was greatly amused at the escapade of the student, but cautioned him against his Irish friend.

"I have no doubt this Terrence Malone is a good, n.o.ble young fellow; but he has too much native mischief in his composition, and will get you from one sc.r.a.pe into another with marvellous regularity. I don't mean that you should cut him adrift; but though you sail in company with him, do not allow him to get too far windward of you. When you see he's going to fly right into the teeth of some rash fate, get on the other tack, that's all. You did honorably, however, in fighting the duel with Lieutenant Matson, even if he is my friend."

"Is he your friend?"

"Yes; his father and I s.h.i.+pped afore the mast when we were boys together. When the war broke out, he entered the British navy while I went aboard a Yankee privateer. I am glad to say we never met in battle."

Fernando felt himself growing just a little bit uneasy. He did not like this friends.h.i.+p between the captain and Lieutenant Matson; and he could see that the old seaman was glad the lieutenant's wound was not fatal.

What strange emotion stirred the Ohio student's soul, when he met the soft eyes of Morgianna, words cannot express. She talked on a variety of subjects, and at times Fernando flattered himself that she was pleased to have him with her; but the next moment he reasoned that it might be only her good breeding which made her appear to tolerate him. Fernando was not foolish enough to be conceited. He lived in hope and doubt and was the happiest man at times, and at others the most miserable. Though he took Sukey into his confidence, Fernando was a little shy of Terrence.

The reader will remember that Terrence had, on entering the village, suggested the propriety of going under a.s.sumed names. Fernando had forgotten, if he ever knew, that he was registered at the tavern as Mr.

Phil. Magrew of Hartford, and that good, innocent Sukey was George Molesworth, while Terrence was Larry O'Connor, a name quite in keeping with his nationality. A ludicrous mistake, which came near being fatal to Fernando's respectability at Mariana, resulted from this incident.

They had been a week at the tavern, and Fernando, who had lived a thousand years of alternating bliss and agony in that short period, was sitting in the bar-room in front of a great roaring fire, which the chill evening of early autumn made comfortable, utterly oblivious of the grumbling of the landlord, who was saying:

"When people stay a whole week 'thout any luggage, it be high time they pay up. I wonder Mr. Magrew don't take notice on't."

The supposed Mr. Magrew, however, did not hear what he said. He was gazing into the blazing fire, weaving bright pictures from which the eyes of Morgianna seemed gazing at him. Fernando had forgotten the academy, home, parents and all in this new inspiration. Terrence and Sukey entered while the landlord was still grumbling and looking hard at Fernando, who was utterly oblivious of his wrath.

"Mister Magrew, be ye a man o' honor?" demanded mine host; but "Mr.

Magrew" was as indifferent as a statue of stone. "The wagabond sits there an' hears himself abused an' be too heedless to answer. By the ma.s.s, I will even tweak his nose! Magrew--Magrew--I'll wake you!"

All the while Terrence, Sukey, and everybody else was wondering whom the enraged landlord meant. Suddenly Terrence recollected that he had registered Fernando under the name of Philip Magrew. He hastened to meet the landlord before he reached Fernando, and thus prevented a collision, which would have been violent indeed.

"Me frind, the honorable Misthur Magrew, is hard o' hearing," explained the Irishman in an undertone.

"Be hard o' hearin'? then he be hard o' payin' too," answered the landlord. "He 'ave been a whole veek in my 'ouse and not one pickyunne 'ave paid."

"Lave all to me," said the Irishman in his conciliatory manner, gently leading the landlord to another part of the room. "Ye see me frind, knowing his infirmity, asked mesilf to pay all bills for Misthur Magrew, and he gave me the money, I clear forgot it, or I should have paid you."

Then Terrence drew forth a well-filled purse, which greatly mollified the landlord, and when all differences were squared, he was completely satisfied, smiling and agreeable.

Thus Fernando pa.s.sed over a dangerous period in his life and never knew how near he came having his nose pulled; nor did the landlord ever know how near he came to being knocked down for such an attempt.

Morgianna had spoken on one occasion of the beauty of moonlight on the seash.o.r.e, and Fernando was bold enough to ask the pleasure of rowing herself and father to the headlands some evening. She a.s.sented. The old sailor had a friend visiting at his house, an old ex-sea-captain like himself, and the four decided to make the voyage across the little bay and sit for an hour on the rocky promontory and listen to the "das.h.i.+ng waves." Fernando willingly welcomed the acquaintance as a fourth to the party, for he was shrewd enough to see that the old sailors would be so wholly engrossed with each other, that they would scarcely notice the young people, and Morgianna and he would be left quite to themselves.

Fernando, though an amateur at the oar, would on no account be dissuaded from rowing the small boat to the promontory; and, having helped Morgianna, who was lightest, into a seat in the bow (inexpressible happiness) he cheerfully took his seat at the oars with the old men in the stern facing each other. Then the little craft was cast loose, and the young westerner bent to his oars and sent the boat swiftly through the water. Of course Fernando's back was toward Morgianna, and he could not see her, save when he twisted his head "quite off," which he did frequently; but he could hear her silvery voice humming s.n.a.t.c.hes of a song, or her dimpled hand playing in the phosph.o.r.escent water which sparkled like flashes of fire in their wake. The old men kept up a continual talk, for which Fernando was exceedingly grateful. Finally the promontory was gained, and in a quiet little cove Fernando beached his boat and, springing out, took the small, white hand of Morgianna and a.s.sisted her to the dry sands, so gallantly that her dainty little slippered foot did not touch the water.

Then the whole party ascended the hill to the opposite side of the promontory where the sea was beating furiously. Fernando was almost beside himself with joy to find Morgianna clinging to his arm in the ascent, and to hear her sweet voice in low, gentle tones breathing in his ear. It was a fine, clear night, and for all her lowness of spirits, Morgianna kept looking up at the stars in a manner so bewitching that Fernando was clear out of his senses, and plainly showed that, if ever a man were over head and ears in love, that man was himself. The path they were ascending was quite steep, and Fernando could not help glancing at the pretty little hand, encased in a cream-colored kid glove, resting on his arm. If Fernando had known that an executioner were behind him with an axe raised, ready to cut off his head if he touched that hand, he could not have helped doing it. From putting his own right hand upon it as if by chance, and taking it away again after a minute or so, and then putting it back again, he got to walking along without taking it off at all, as if he, the escort, were bound to do that as an important duty, and had come for that purpose. The most curious thing about this little incident was, that Morgianna did not seem to know it. She looked so innocent and unconscious when she turned her eyes on Fernando, that it was quite provoking.

She talked about the sea, the hills, the rocks, the sky, the stars, while the old men went on ahead, and when she slipped on the verge of a precipice three feet high and came near falling into a pool of dirty water, and he saved her from the fall by his coolness and daring, she thanked him and told him how grateful she was that he was near, and he said something about how happy he would be to be always near her, to guard her footsteps along life's rugged pathway. Then she said something to the effect that it would be pleasant if one could always have one's friends near, and that she hoped they would always be friends from that time forth. And when Fernando said, "not friends" he hoped, Morgianna was quite surprised and said not enemies she hoped; and when Fernando suggested that they might be something better than either, Morgianna, all of a sudden, found a star, which was brighter than all the other stars, and begged to call his attention to the same, and was ten times more innocent and unconscious than ever.

In this way, they journeyed up the steep ascent, talking very little above a whisper, and wis.h.i.+ng that the promontory was a dozen times higher--at least, such was Fernando's wish--when they finally reached the top and saw the two old men under the lee cliff listening to the ocean's hollow roar.

Fernando carried a robe and some wraps for Morgianna, and he conducted her to a sheltered spot below the first ledge of rocks, where he spread a robe for her to sit on, and then, with loving fingers that thrilled with each touch, adjusted the wraps about her shapely little shoulders.

For a long time they sat listening to the wild roar of the angry waters below, gazing on the phosph.o.r.escent flashes, where the swelling waves broke in crested splendor on the well-worn rocks.

He was first to break the silence.

"Miss Lane," he said, "had I known that Lieutenant Matson was your personal friend, I would have suffered disgrace rather than encountered him."

With a smile, she answered:

"It all turned out right. The lieutenant was scarcely injured at all."

"Have you heard of him?"

"I have heard from him," she answered, glancing slyly at Fernando from the corners of her roguish eyes. "He wrote me a letter which I received to-day."

Fernando felt a pain at his heart, but it was nothing to compare with the shame and mortification which followed. She informed him that Lieutenant Matson was so slightly wounded, that his seconds decided on a second fire, and sent a boat to inform them as they had left the beach, but that, although they chased the Americans for miles, they could not bring them back. Fernando was stunned by the information, and filled with mortification and chagrin.

"Do you think I am afraid to meet him again?" he asked, his voice trembling with ill-suppressed excitement.

"I don't know; but you won't, anyway--you are both my friends, and my friends shall not fight."

Fernando made no answer, but at that moment he would very much have liked to knock her friend on the head. Of course a second meeting with the Briton would now have been highly pleasing to the student; but it was out of the question. The hour on the promontory was pa.s.sed in alternating bliss and misery, and when the time came to return, he was no nearer the subject dearest of all subjects than before.

He hastened back to the tavern, where he found his Irish friend playing cards with the landlord and winning several weeks' board in advance.

"Terrence, it is a fine fix you got me in by hurrying away from the sands so soon that morning," he said angrily, when he got him to his room.

"Why, me boy, what d'ye mane?"

"That lieutenant was only slightly wounded, and that boat was chasing us to bring us back for another shot."

"So ye've heard it at last, me frind?"

"Certainly I have, and now I will be branded as a coward."

"Lave it all to me. The Britishers are in trouble enough. Sure, haven't ye read the Baltimore papers? Captain Conkerall is to be tried by a court-martial for gettin' bastely drunk and goin' abroad with no garment but his s.h.i.+rt, and a sheet with a hole in it." Terrence laughed until the tears trickled down his cheeks. Fernando could not see how he could help fighting the lieutenant again if he demanded satisfaction; but the Irishman was quite sure the lieutenant would have enough to do to keep his captain out of his dilemma. Sukey, who had entered during their conversation, said:

"Oh, Fernando, why didn't you aim higher and blow his head off?"

"Why did the lieutenant challenge me, when the captain was the injured party?" asked Fernando.

Terrence explained that, while the Captain was really the injured party, it was a matter of courtesy that his officer lower in rank should take the quarrel upon himself, more especially as Fernando had been his successful rival at the ball. From this, the conversation gradually led to Morgianna herself, and Terrence laughed and winked; and called Fernando a lucky dog.

"Go in, me boy, and if ye nade any help, I am at hand."

"I fear I have injured my prospects there," said Fernando.

"How?"