Persons possessed of sluggish livers and tender hearts find twoserious drawbacks to the enjoyment of a cruise at sea. It isexceedingly difficult to get enough walking exercise; and it isnext to impossible (where secrecy is an object) to make lovewithout being found out. Reverting for the moment to the latterdifficulty only, life within the narrow and populous limits of avessel may be defined as essentially life in public. From morningto night you are in your neighbor's way, or your neighbor is inyour way. As a necessary result of these conditions, the rarestof existing men may be defined as the man who is capable ofstealing a kiss at sea without discovery. An inbred capacity forstratagem of the finest sort; inexhaustible inventive resources;patience which can flourish under superhuman trials; presence ofmind which can keep its balance victoriously under every possiblestress of emergency--these are some of the qualifications whichmust accompany Love on a cruise, when Love embarks in thecharacter of a contraband commodity not duly entered on thepapers of the ship.

Having established a Code of Signals which enabled them tocommunicate privately, while the eyes and ears of others werewide open on every side of them, Natalie and Launce were nextconfronted by the more serious difficulty of finding a means ofmeeting together at stolen interviews on board the yacht.Possessing none of those precious moral qualifications alreadyenumerated as the qualifications of an accomplished lover at sea,Launce had proved unequal to grapple with the obstacles in hisway. Left to her own inventive resources, Natalie had firstsuggested the young surgeon's medical studies as Launce'sunanswerable excuse for shutting himself up at intervals in thelower regions, and had then hit on the happy idea of tearing hertrimmings, and condemning herself to repair her own carelessness,as the all-sufficient reason for similar acts of self-seclusionon her side. In this way the lovers contrived, while the innocentruling authorities were on deck, to meet privately below them, onthe neutral ground of the main cabin; and there, by previousarrangement at the breakfast-table, they were about to meetprivately now.

Natalie's door was, as usual on these occasions, the first thatopened; for this sound reason, that Natalie's quickness was thequickness to be depended on in case of accident.

She looked up at the sky-light. There were the legs of the twogentlemen and the skirts of her aunt visible (and stationary) onthe lee side of the deck. She advanced a few steps and listened.There was a pause in the murmur of the voices above. She lookedup again. One pair of legs (not her father's) had disappeared.Without an instant's hesitation, Natalie darted back to her owndoor, just in time to escape Richard Turlington descending thecabin stairs. All he did was to go to one of the drawers underthe main-cabin book-case and to take out a map, ascending againimmediately to the deck. Natalie's guilty conscience rushedinstantly, nevertheless, to the conclusion that Richard suspectedher. When she showed herself for the second time, instead ofventuring into the cabin, she called across it in a whisper,

"Launce!"

Launce appeared at his door. He was peremptorily checked beforehe could cross the threshold.

"Don't stir a step! Richard has been down in the cabin! Richardsuspects us!"

"Nonsense! Come out."

"Nothing will induce me, unless you can find some other placethan the cabin."

Some other place? How easy to find it on land! How apparentlyimpossible at sea! There was the forecastle (full of men) at oneend of the vessel. There was the sail room (full of sails) at theother. There was the ladies' cabin (used as the ladies'dressing-room; inaccessible, in that capacity, to every malehuman being on board). Was there any disposable inclosed space tobe found amidships? On one side there were the sleeping berths ofthe sailing-master and his mate (impossible to borrow _them_). Onthe other side was the steward's store-room. Launce consideredfor a moment. The steward's store-room was just the thing!

"Where are you going?" asked Natalie, as her lover made straightfor a closed door at the lower extremity of the main cabin.

"To speak to the steward, darling. Wait one moment, and you willsee me again."

Launce opened the store-room door, and discovered, not thesteward, but his wife, who occupied the situation of stewardesson board the vessel. The accident was, in this case, a lucky one.Having stolen several kisses at sea, and having b een discovered(in every case) either by the steward or his wife, Launce felt nodifficulty in prefacing his request to be allowed the use of theroom by the plainest allusion to his relations with Natalie. Hecould count on the silence of the sympathizing authorities inthis region of the vessel, having wisely secured them asaccomplices by the usual persuasion of the pecuniary sort. Of thetwo, however, the stewardess, as a woman, was the more likely tolend a ready ear to Launce's entreaties in his present emergency.After a faint show of resistance, she consented, not only toleave the room, but to keep her husband out of it, on theunderstanding that it was not to be occupied for more than tenminutes. Launce made the signal to Natalie at one door, while thestewardess went out by the other. In a moment more the loverswere united in a private room. Is it necessary to say in whatlanguage the proceedings were opened? Surely not! There is aninarticulate language of the lips in use on these occasions inwhich we are all proficient, though we sometimes forget it inlater life. Natalie seated herself on a locker. The tea, sugar,and spices were at her back, a side of bacon swung over her head,and a net full of lemons dangled before her face. It might not beroomy, but it was snug and comfortable.

"Suppose they call for the steward?" she suggested. ("Don't,Launce!")

"Never mind. We shall be safe enough if they do. The steward hasonly to show himself on deck, and they will suspect nothing."

"Do be quiet, Launce! I have got dreadful news to tell you. And,besides, my aunt will expect to see me with my braid sewn onagain."

She had brought her needle and thread with her. Whipping up theskirt of her dress on her knee, she bent forward over it, and setherself industriously to the repair of the torn trimming. In thisposition her lithe figure showed charmingly its firm yet easyline. The needle, in her dexterous brown fingers, flew throughits work. The locker was a broad one; Launce was able to seathimself partially behind her. In this position who could haveresisted the temptation to lift up her great knot ofbroadly-plaited black hair, and to let the warm, dusky nape ofher neck disclose itself to view? Who, looking at it, could failto revile the senseless modern fashion of dressing the hair,which hides the double beauty of form and color that nestles atthe back of a woman's neck? From time to time, as the interviewproceeded, Launce's lips emphasized the more important wordsoccurring in his share of the conversation on the soft, fragrantskin which the lifted hair let him see at intervals. In Launce'splace, sir, you would have done it too.

"Now, Natalie, what is the news?"

"He has spoken to papa, Launce."

"Richard Turlington?"

"Yes."

"D--n him!"

Natalie started. A curse addressed to the back of your neck,instantly followed by a blessing in the shape of a kiss, is alittle trying when you are not prepared for it.

"Don't do that again, Launce! It was while you were on decksmoking, and when I was supposed to be fast asleep. I opened theventilator in my cabin door, dear, and I heard every word theysaid. He waited till my aunt was out of the way, and he had gotpapa all to himself, and then he began it in that horrible,downright voice of his--'Graybrooke! how much longer am I towait?'"

"Did he say that?"

"No more swearing, Launce! Those were the words. Papa didn'tunderstand them. He only said (poor dear!)--'Bless my soul,Richard, what do you want?' Richard soon explained himself. 'Whocould he be waiting for--but Me?' Papa said something about mybeing so young. Richard stopped his mouth directly. 'Girls werelike fruit; some ripened soon, and some ripened late. Some werewomen at twenty, and some were women at sixteen. It wasimpossible to look at me, and not see that I was like a new beingafter my two months at sea,' and so on and so on. Papa behavedlike an angel. He still tried to put it off. 'Plenty of time,Richard, plenty of time.' 'Plenty of time for _her_' (was thewretch's answer to that); 'but not for _me_. Think of all I haveto offer her' (as if I cared for his money!); 'think how long Ihave looked upon her as growing up to be my wife' (growing up for_him_--monstrous!), 'and don't keep me in a state of uncertainty,which it gets harder and harder for a man in my position toendure!' He was really quite eloquent. His voice trembled. Thereis no doubt, dear, that he is very, very fond of me."

"And you feel flattered by it, of course?"

"Don't talk nonsense. I feel a little frightened at it, I cantell you."

"Frightened? Did _you_ notice him this morning?"

"I? When?"

"When your father was telling that story about the manoverboard."

"No. What did he do? Tell me, Launce."

"I'll tell you directly. How did it all end last night? Did yourfather make any sort of promise?"

"You know Richard's way; Richard left him no other choice. Papahad to promise before he was allowed to go to bed."

"To let Turlington marry you?"

"Yes; the week after my next birthday."

"The week after next Christmas-day?"

"Yes. Papa is to speak to me as soon as we are at home again, andmy married life is to begin with the New Year."

"Are you in earnest, Natalie? Do you really mean to say it hasgone as far as that?"

"They have settled everything. The splendid establishment we areto set up, the great income we are to have. I heard papa tellRichard that half his fortune should go to me on my wedding-day.It was sickening to hear how much they made of Money, and howlittle they thought of Love. What am I to do, Launce?"

"That's easily answered, my darling. In the first place, you areto make up your mind not to marry Richard Turlington--"

"Do talk reasonably. You know I have done all I could. I havetold papa that I can think of Richard as a friend, but not as ahusband. He only laughs at me, and says, 'Wait a little, and youwill alter your opinion, my dear.' You see Richard is everythingto him; Richard has always managed his affairs, and has saved himfrom losing by bad speculations; Richard has known me from thetime when I was a child; Richard has a splendid business, andquantities of money. Papa can't even imagine that I can resistRichard. I have tried my aunt; I have told her he is too old forme. All she says is, 'Look at your father; he was much older thanyour mother, and what a happy marriage theirs was.' Even if Isaid in so many words, 'I won't marry Richard,' what good wouldit do to us? Papa is the best and dearest old man in the world;but oh, he is so fond of money! He believes in nothing else. Hewould be furious--yes, kind as he is, he would be furious--if Ieven hinted that I was fond of _you_. Any man who proposed tomarry me--if he couldn't match the fortune that I should bringhim by a fortune of his own--would be a lunatic in papa's eyes.He wouldn't think it necessary to answer him; he would ring thebell, and have him shown out of the house. I am exaggeratingnothing, Launce; you know I am speaking the truth. There is nohope in the future--that I can see--for either of us.

"Have you done, Natalie? I have something to say on my side ifyou have."

"What is it?"

"If things go on as they are going on now, shall I tell you howit will end? It will end in your being Turlington's wife."

"Never!"

"So you say now; but you don't know what may happen between thisand Christmas-day. Natalie, there is only one way of making surethat you will never marry Richard. Marry _me_."

"Without papa's consent?"

"Without saying a word to anybody till it's done."

"Oh, Launce! Launce!"

"My darling, every word you have said proves there is no otherway. Think of it, Natalie, think of it."

There was a pause. Natalie dropped her needle and thread, and hidher face in her hands. "If my poor mother was only alive," shesaid; "if I only had an elder sister to advise me, and to take mypart."

She was evidently hesitating. Launce took a man's advantage ofher indecision. He pressed her without mercy.

"Do you love me?" he whispered, with his lips close to her ear.

"You know I do, dearly."

"Put it out of Richa rd's power to part us, Natalie."

"Part us? We are cousins: we have known each other since we wereboth children. Even if he proposed parting us, papa wouldn'tallow it."

"Mark my words, he _will_ propose it. As for your father, Richardhas only to lift his finger and your father obeys him. My love,the happiness of both our lives is at stake. "He wound his armround her, and gently drew her head back on his bosom " Othergirls have done it, darling," he pleaded, "why shouldn't you?"

The effort to answer him was too much for her. She gave it up. Alow sigh fluttered through her lips. She nestled closer to him,and faintly closed her eyes. The next instant she started up,trembling from head to foot, and looked at the sky-light. RichardTurlington's voice was suddenly audible on deck exactly abovethem.

"Graybrooke, I want to say a word to you about Launcelot Linzie."

Natalie's first impulse was to fly to the door. Hearing Launce'sname on Richard's lips, she checked herself. Something inRichard's tone roused in her the curiosity which suspends fear.She waited, with her hand in Launce's hand.

"If you remember," the brassy voice went on, "I doubted thewisdom of taking him with us on this cruise. You didn't agreewith me, and, at your express request, I gave way. I did wrong.Launcelot Linzie is a very presuming young man."

Sir Joseph's answer was accompanied by Sir Joseph's mellow laugh.

"My dear Richard! Surely you are a little hard on Launce?"

"You are not an observant man, Graybrooke. I am. I see signs ofhis presuming with all of us, and especially with Natalie. Idon't like the manner in which he speaks to her and looks at her.He is unduly familiar; he is insolently confidential. There mustbe a stop put to it. In my position, my feelings ought to beregarded. I request you to check the intimacy when we get onshore."

Sir Joseph's next words were spoken more seriously. He expressedhis surprise.

"My dear Richard, they are cousins, they have been playmates fromchildhood. How _can_ you think of attaching the slightestimportance to anything that is said or done by poor Launce?"

There was a good-humored contempt in Sir Joseph's reference to"poor Launce" which jarred on his daughter. He might almost havebeen alluding to some harmless domestic animal. Natalie's colordeepened. Her hand pressed Launce's hand gently.

Turlington still persisted.

"I must once more request--seriously request--that you will checkthis growing intimacy. I don't object to your asking him to thehouse when you ask other friends. I only wish you (and expectyou) to stop his 'dropping in,' as it is called, any hour of theday or evening when he may have nothing to do. Is that understoodbetween us?"

"If you make a point of it, Richard, of course it's understoodbetween us."

Launce looked at Natalie, as weak Sir Joseph consented in thosewords.

"What did I tell you?" he whispered.

Natalie hung her head in silence. There was a pause in theconversation on deck. The two gentlemen walked away slowly towardthe forward part of the vessel.

Launce pursued his advantage.

"Your father leaves us no alternative," he said. "The door willbe closed against me as soon as we get on shore. If I lose you,Natalie, I don't care what becomes of me. My profession may go tothe devil. I have nothing left worth living for."

"Hush! hush! don't talk in that way!"

Launce tried the soothing influence of persuasion once more.

"Hundreds and hundreds of people in our situation have marriedprivately--and have been forgiven afterward," he went on. "Iwon't ask you to do anything in a hurry. I will be guidedentirely by your wishes. All I want to quiet my mind is to knowthat you are mine. Do, do, do make me feel sure that RichardTurlington can't take you away from me."

"Don't press me, Launce." She dropped on the locker. "See!" shesaid. "It makes me tremble only to think of it!"

"Who are you afraid of, darling? Not your father, surely?"

"Poor papa! I wonder whether he would be hard on me for the firsttime in his life?" She stopped; her moistening eyes looked upimploringly in Launce's face. "Don't press me!" she repeatedfaintly. "You know it's wrong. We should have to confess it-- andthen what would happen?" She paused again. Her eyes wanderednervously to the deck. Her voice dropped to its lowest tones."Think of Richard!" she said, and shuddered at the terrors whichthat name conjured up. Before it was possible to say a quietingword to her, she was again on her feet. Richard's name hadsuddenly recalled to her memory Launce's mysterious allusion, atthe outset of the interview, to the owner of the yacht. "What wasthat you said about Richard just now?" she asked. "You sawsomething (or heard something) strange while papa was telling hisstory. What was it?"

"I noticed Richard's face, Natalie, when your father told us thatthe man overboard was not one of the pilot-boat's crew. He turnedghastly pale. He looked guilty--"

"Guilty? Of what?"

"He was present--I am certain of it--when the sailor was throwninto the sea. For all I know, he may have been the man who didit."

Natalie started back in horror.

"Oh, Launce! Launce! that is too bad. You may not like Richard--you may treat Richard as your enemy. But to say such a horriblething of him as that-- It's not generous. It's not like _you_."

"If you had seen him, you would have said it too. I mean to makeinquiries--in your father's interests as well as in ours. Mybrother knows one of the Commissioners of Police, and my brothercan get it done for me. Turlington has not always been in theLevant trade--I know that already."

"For shame, Launce! for shame!"

The footsteps on deck were audible coming back. Natalie sprang tothe door leading into the cabin. Launce stopped her, as she laidher hand on the lock. The footsteps went straight on toward thestern of the vessel. Launce clasped both arms round her. Nataliegave way.

"Don't drive me to despair!" he said. "This is my lastopportunity. I don't ask you to say at once that you will marryme, I only ask you to think of it. My darling! my angel! will youthink of it?"

As he put the question, they might have heard (if they had notbeen too completely engrossed in each other to listen) thefootsteps returning--one pair of footsteps only this time.Natalie's prolonged absence had begun to surprise her aunt, andhad roused a certain vague distrust in Richard's mind. He walkedback again along the deck by himself. He looked absently in themain cabin as he passed it. The store-room skylight came next. Inhis present frame of mind, would he look absently into thestore-room too?

"Let me go!" said Natalie.

Launce only answered, "Say yes," and held her as if he wouldnever let her go again.

At the same moment Miss Lavinia's voice rose shrill from the deckcalling for Natalie. There was but one way of getting free fromhim. She said, "I'll think of it." Upon that, he kissed her andlet her go.

The door had barely closed on her when the lowering face ofRichard Turlington appeared on a level with the side of the sky-light, looking down into the store-room at Launce.

"Halloo!" he called out roughly. "What are you doing in thesteward's room?"

Launce took up a box of matches on the dresser. "I'm getting alight," he answered readily.

"I allow nobody below, forward of the main cabin, without myleave. The steward has permitted a breach of discipline on boardmy vessel. The steward will leave my service."

"The steward is not to blame."

"I am the judge of that. Not you."

Launce opened his lips to reply. An outbreak between the two menappeared to be inevitable, when the sailing-master of the yachtjoined his employer on deck, and directed Turlington's attentionto a question which is never to be trifled with at sea, thequestion of wind and tide.

The yacht was then in the Bristol Channel, at the entrance toBideford Bay. The breeze, fast freshening, was also fast changingthe direction from which it blew. The favorable tide had barelythree hours more to run.

"The wind's shifting, sir," said the sailing-master. "I'm afraidwe shan't get round the point this tide, unless we lay her off onthe other tack."

Turlington shook his head.

"There are letters waiting for me at Bideford," he said. "We havelost two days in the calm. I must send ashore to the post-office,whether we lose the tide or not."

The vessel held on her course. Off the port of Bideford, the boatwas sent ashore to the post-office, the yacht standing off andon, waiting the appearance of the letters. In the shortest timein which it was possible to bring them on board the letters werein Turlington's hands.

The men were hauling the boat up to the davits, the yacht wasalready heading off from the land, when Turlington startledeverybody by one peremptory word--"Stop!"

He had thrust all his letters but one into the pocket of hissailing jacket, without reading them. The one letter which he hadopened he held in his closed hand. Rage was in his staring eyes,consternation was on his pale lips.

"Lower the boat!" he shouted; "I must get to London to-night." Hestopped Sir Joseph, approaching him with opened mouth. "There'sno time for questions and answers. I must get back." He swunghimself over the side of the yacht, and addressed thesailing-master from the boat. "Save the tide if you can; if youcan't, put them ashore to-morrow at Minehead or Watchet--whereverthey like." He beckoned to Sir Joseph to lean over the bulwark,and hear something he had to say in private. "Remember what Itold you about Launcelot Linzie!" he whispered fiercely. Hisparting look was for Natalie. He spoke to her with a strongconstraint on himself, as gently as he could. "Don't be alarmed;I shall see you in London." He seated himself in the boat andtook the tiller. The last words they heard him say were wordsurging the men at the oars to lose no time. He was invariablybrutal with the men. "Pull, you lazy beggars!" he exclaimed, withan oath. "Pull for your lives!"