CHAPTER IX
MR. RIDGEWAY'S AMAZEMENT
At dinner Hugh was strangely exuberant, jesting gaily and exchangingrare witticisms with Veath, who also appeared immensely satisfied. Asthey left the saloon he said:
"Let's take a turn on deck, Grace."
"Won't you include me?" asked Veath.
"Certainly," answered Grace promptly.
"Be delighted," echoed Hugh, swallowing as if it were an effort.
"I must get a wrap," said Grace. "I won't delay you more than fiveminutes."
"I'll get my overcoat and some cigars," added Hugh.
"And I'll write a short letter to post at Malta," said Veath, and theyseparated.
A short while later, a steward passed Hugh's stateroom, and he called tohim to step to the next door and tell Miss Ridge that he was ready.
"Miss Ridge just went up with her gentleman--" the man responded; butHugh interrupted, slamming the door. For several minutes he stoodglaring at the upper corner of his berth; then he said something strong.Every vestige of his exuberance disappeared, his brow clouded and hisheart seemed to swell painfully within its narrow confines.
As he was about to ascend the steps of the companionway, he heard theswish of skirts and then a sharp scream. In an instant he was half wayup, his arms extended. Lord Huntingford's daughter plunged into them,and he literally carried her to the foot. She was pale and trembling andhe was flushed. He had looked up in time to see her falling forward,vainly striving to reach the hand rail.
"Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously. The young lady sat down upon thesecond step before answering, a delightful pink stealing over her face.
"I--I don't believe I am," she said. "My heel caught on a step and Ifell. It was so clumsy of me. I might have been badly hurt if you hadnot caught me as you did."
"These steps are so uncertain," he said, scowling at them. "Somebody'llget hurt here some day. But, really, are you quite sure you are, nothurt? Didn't you twist your--your--"
"Ankle? Not in the least. See! I can stand on both of them. I am nothurt at all. Let me thank you," she said, smiling into his eyes as shemoved away.
"May I assist you?" he asked eagerly.
"Oh, no; I thank you, Mr. Veath. I would not have my preserver performthe office of a crutch. I am not hurt in the least. Good-afternoon."
Hugh, disconcerted and piqued by her confusion of names, answered herwondrous smile with one that reflected bewildered admiration, andfinally managed to send after her:
"I wouldn't have lost the opportunity for the world."
That evening he was sitting out on deck in contemplative silenceenjoying his after-dinner smoke. Farther down were Grace and Veath.Suddenly turning in their direction, Hugh perceived that they were notthere; nor were they anywhere in sight. He was pondering over theirwhereabouts, his eyes still on the vacant chairs, when a voice tenderand musical assailed his ears--a voice which he had heard butonce before.
"Good-evening, Mr. Veath."
He wheeled about and found himself staring at the smiling face of theyoung lady who had fallen into his arms but a few hours before.
"Good-evening," he stammered, amazed by her unexpected greeting."Have--have you fully recovered from your fall?"
"I was quite over it in a moment or two. I wanted to ask you if you werehurt by the force with which I fell against you." She stood with onehand upon the rail, quite close to him, the moonlight playing upon herupturned face. He never had seen a more perfect picture of airy graceand beauty in his life.
"Why mention an impossibility? You could not have hurt me in a fall tentimes as great."
His tall figure straightened and his eyes gleamed chivalrously. Theyoung woman's dark, mysterious eyes swept over him for a second,resting at last upon those which looked admiringly into them from above.She made a movement as if to pass on, gravely smiling a farewell.
"I beg your pardon," he said hastily. "You called me Mr. Veath a momentago. It may be of no consequence to you, yet I should like to tell youthat my name is Ridge--Hugh Ridge."
"It is my place to beg forgiveness. But I understood your name wasVeath, and that you were--were"--here she smiled tantalizingly--"in lovewith the beautiful American, Miss Ridge."
"The dev--dick--I mean, the mischief you did! Well, of all the foolconclusions I've ever heard, that is the worst. In love with my sister!Ho, ho!" He laughed rather too boisterously.
"But there is a Mr. Veath on board, is there not?--a friend?"
"A Mr. Henry Veath going into the American Revenue Service at Manila."
"How stupid of me! However, I am positive that I was told it was Mr.Veath who was in love with Miss Ridge."
"But he isn't," hastily cried Hugh, turning hot and cold by turns. "He'sjust a friend. She--she is to marry another chap." Here he gulpedpainfully. "But please don't breathe it to a soul. She'd hate meforever. Can I trust you?" To himself, he was saying: "I am making adevil of a mess of this elopement."
"This is a very large world, Mr. Ridge, and this voyage is a meretrifle in time. When we leave the ship we may be parting forever, so hersecret would be safe, even though I shrieked it all over the East. Youwill return to America before long, I presume?"
"I'm sure I don't know. We may stay a year or no."
"Then the wedding is not a thing of the immediate future?"
"Oh, yes--that is, I mean, certainly not."
"Pardon me for asking so many questions. It is very rude of me." Shesaid it so penitently that Hugh, unable to find words, could only wavehis hands in deprecation. "Isn't it a perfect evening?" she went on,turning to the sea. The light breeze blew the straying raven hair awayfrom her temples, leaving the face clearly chiselled out of the night'sinkiness. Hugh's heart thumped strangely as he noted her evidentintention to remain on deck. She turned to him swiftly and he avertedhis eyes, but not quickly enough to prevent her seeing that he had beenscrutinizing her intently. What she may have intended to say was neveruttered. Instead, she observed, a trifle coldly:
"I must bid you good-night, Mr. Ridge."
"Pray, not yet," he cried; "I was just about to ask if we might not sitin these chairs here for a little while. It is early and it is socharming to-night." He looked into her eyes again and found that she wasgazing searchingly into his. A light smile broke into life and sheseemed to be satisfied with the momentary analysis of the manbefore her.
"It does seem silly to stay below on a night like this. Shall we sithere?" She indicated two vacant chairs well forward. The young ladyscorned a steamer rug, so he sat beside her, conscious that, despite hercharming presence, he was beginning to feel the air keenly. But he couldnot admit it to this slight Englishwoman.
For half an hour or more they sat there, finding conversation easy,strangely interesting to two persons who had nothing whatsoever incommon. He was charmed, delighted with this vivacious girl. And yetsomething mournful seemed to shade the brilliant face now and then. Itdid not come and go, moreover, for the frank, open beauty was always thesame; it was revealed to him only at intervals. Perhaps he saw it in herdark, tender eyes--he could not tell. He saw Henry Veath pacing thedeck, smoking and--alone. Hugh's heart swelled gladly and he spoke quitecheerily to Veath as that gentleman sauntered past.
"Now, that is Mr. Veath, isn't it?" demanded his fair companion.
"Yes; do you think we should be mistaken for each other?"
"Oh, dear, no, now that I know you apart. You are utterly unlike, exceptin height. How broad he is! Hasn't he a wonderful back?" she cried,admiring the tall, straight figure of the walker.
"He got that on the farm."
"It is worth a farm to have shoulders like his, I should say. You mustintroduce Mr. Veath to me."
Hugh looked at the moon very thoughtfully for a few moments and then, asif remembering, said that he would be happy to do so, and was sure thatVeath would be even happier.
At this moment the tall, lank form of Lord Huntingford approached. Hewas peering intently at the people in the chairs a
s he passed them,plainly searching for some one.
"There is Lord Huntingford looking for you," said Hugh, rising. He saw atrace of annoyance in her face as she also arose. "I overheard himtelling the captain that Lady Huntingford--your mother--plays amiserable game of crib."
She started and turned sharply upon him.
"My mother, Mr. Ridge?" she said slowly.
"Yes; your father was guying Captain Shadburn about his game, you know."
The look of wonder in her eyes increased; she passed her hand across herbrow and then through her hair in evident perplexity, all the whilestaring at his face. There was a tinge of suspicion in her voice whenshe spoke.
"Mr. Ridge, don't you know?"
"Know what?"
"You surely know that I am not Lord Huntingford's--"
"You don't mean to say that you are not his daughter," gasped Hugh,dubious as to her meaning.
"I am Lady Huntingford."
"His wife?"
"His wife."
Hugh, too dumbfounded to speak, could do no more than doff his cap asshe took the arm of the gray lord and softly said to him:
"Good-night, Mr. Ridge."