AN INVITATION ACCEPTED
It was a small incident, of course; scarcely to be noted at all when it was over. Yet the impression left upon Sheila's mind was that Orion Latham was deliberately endeavoring to injure his cousin's business with the Seamew. If he talked like this before the more or less superstitious Portygees, how long would Tunis manage to keep a crew to work the schooner?
Had she dared she would have taken Orion to task there and then for his unfaithfulness. The fellow was, as Cap'n Ira had once observed, one of those yapping curs always envious of the braver dog's bone.
To the girl's disgust, too, Orion Latham showed plainly that he considered that he, as an older acquaintance of the girl, could presume upon that fact. He clung to her throughout the evening like a mussel to duck grass. Of all the Big Wreck Cove youth, he was the only one that she could not put in his place.
She did not think it wise to snub him so openly that Orion would take offense. This course might do the captain of the Seamew harm. She foresaw trouble in the offing for Tunis, in any case, and she did not wish to do anything that would spur Orion to further and more successful attempts to harm his cousin's business.
There was another matter troubling Sheila's mind after Orion had come to the harvest-home festival. Mason Chapin likewise appeared at the church. But Tunis did not come. He knew, of course, of the festival, and he had known when he sailed last for Boston that the Balls and Ida May intended to go. It did seem as if Tunis might have come, if for only a little while, before going home.
These thoughts made Sheila rather inattentive to other proposals, and she found herself obliged to go down to supper with Orion, since he had outsat and outtalked all the other young men who had hovered about her. She was nice to Orion; the girl could scarcely be otherwise, even to those she disliked, unless some very important matter arose to disturb her, but she did not enjoy the remainder of the evening, and she was glad when Cap'n Ira and Prudence were ready to go home. It was full time, the girl thought.
Even then Orion Latham assumed altogether too much authority. Sheila had been about to send little John-Ed around for Queenie and the carryall, but Orion put the boy aside with a self-assured grin.
"Nobody ain't going to put you in the carriage, Ida May, but me," he declared. "I'll get the old mare."
He seized his cap and went out. In a few minutes they had said good-bye, and the old couple and the girl went out on the church steps. Sheila saw the carryall standing before the door. A figure stood at the old mare's head which she presumed to be Orion's.
"The chariot is ready, I cal'late," said Cap'n Ira. "Come on, Prudence."
Sheila helped the old woman into the rear seat and then aided Cap'n Ira as well. She got in quickly in front, but as she was about to gather up the reins the man holding Queenie's head came around swiftly and stepped in beside her to the driver's place.
"I swan! That you, Tunis?" exclaimed Cap'n Ira.
"Looks like it," the captain of the Seamew said gravely. "All clear aft?"
"You can pay off, Tunis," returned the old man. "Tuck that robe around your knees, Prudence. This night air is as chill as a breath off the ice barrens."
Orion loafed into the lamplight by the steps before Queenie got into action. His scowl was unseen, but his voice was audible—as it was meant to be—to Sheila's ears.
"There he is—hoggin' everything, same as usual. How did I know he was hanging around outside here, waiting to drive her home? Just as though he owned her! Huh! He may be skipper aboard that dratted schooner, but that gives him no right to boss me ashore. I won't stand it."
"Sit down to it, then, 'Rion," snickered one of the other young fellows. "I cal'late Tunis has got the inside course on all of us."
The girl said nothing to the captain of the Seamew at first. It was Prudence who asked him why he had not been in the church.
"I could not get over here until just now," Tunis replied quietly.
Sheila wondered if he really had been detained on the schooner. Perhaps he had refrained from coming to the festival for fear the good people of Big Wreck Cove would notice his attentions to her. He had never been publicly in her company since he had brought her down from Boston. Orion Latham's outburst there at the church door was the first cue people might have gained of anything more than a passing acquaintanceship between the captain of the Seamew and the girl who had come to live with the Balls.
These thoughts bore down the girl's spirits tremendously. The simple pleasure of the evening was quite erased from her memory. She remained speechless while old Queenie climbed the hill to the Head.
The desultory conversation between Cap'n Ira, Prudence, and the young shipmaster scarcely attracted the girl's attention. If Tunis looked at her curiously now and then, she did not see his glances. And she merely nodded her understanding of his statement when Tunis said, speaking directly to her:
"The Seamew's going to lie here over Sunday this time, Ida May."
"That'll be nice for you, Tunis," Aunt Prue put in. "You can go to church. You don't often have that privilege. Seafarin' is an awful godless life."
Queenie sprang ahead gallantly at the sound of a hearty sneeze from Cap'n Ira, just then, and they were soon at home. Tunis jumped out and aided the old woman and then the captain to alight. Sheila got out on the other side of the carriage. She would have preferred to run on into the house, but she could not really do that. Queenie must be unharnessed and put in her stable and given a measure of oats to munch. Of course, Tunis would offer to do this, but she could not leave him to attend to it without a word.
"I'll help you with Queenie, Ida May," said the captain of the Seamew.
That settled it. She had to remain outside while Cap'n Ira and Prudence went into the house. Tunis led the old mare toward the barn. A lantern, burning very dimly, was in a box just outside the big door, and Sheila got this and held it while Tunis busied himself with the buckles.
"I didn't mean to interfere," the man said, suddenly breaking the silence between them. "But as I was coming this way, of course, I expected to ride along with you. So—"
"What do you mean, Captain Latham?" the girl asked wonderingly.
"Orion said you sent him out to get Queenie."
"Why, I—"
"Of course, you didn't know I was there. I had just reached the church. But 'Rion is so fresh—"
"He took it upon himself to go," said the girl calmly. "I did not send him. I guess you know how your cousin is."
"He is too fresh. I'd like to punch him," growled Tunis, to the girl's secret delight. It sounded boyish, but real. "I don't know that I can stand him aboard the Seamew much longer. He attends to everybody's business but his own."
"He means you no good, Captain Latham," she said frankly. "To-night he was repeating that silly story about the Seamew being haunted."
"Cat's-foot!" ejaculated Tunis. "I wish I'd fired old Horry Newbegin for starting that."
"But 'Rion keeps it up."
"If he believed she was hoodoed, you wouldn't get him aboard with a wire cable," growled Tunis.
"It would be better for you and for the success of your business, Captain Latham, if 'Rion was really afraid of going aboard the Seamew," she said with confidence.
"Well, I don't see how I can fire him. He's my cousin—in a way. And there is enough ill feeling in the family now. Gran'ther Peleg left all his money to me, and it made Orion and his folks as sore as can be."
"You are inclined to be too kind. I am not sure it is always wise to be too easy."
"Like chopping off the dog's tail an inch at a time, so's not to hurt him so much, eh?" he chuckled.
"Something like that."
"Well, I'm almost tempted to give 'Rion his walking ticket. I've reason enough. He can't even keep a manifest straight."
"Does he even try?"
"And that also is in my mind," acknowledged Tunis. "I'm pretty well fed up on 'Rion, I do allow. But I don't know what Aunt 'Cretia would say." Then he laughed again. "Just about what she usually says, I guess; nothing at all. But she abhors family squabbles.
"That reminds me, Ida May. This being the first Sunday I've been home since you came here, I want you should go over with me after church to-morrow and have dinner at our house."
"Oh, Captain Latham! I—"
"And don't you guess you could employ some other term when speaking to me, Ida May?" he interrupted. "I get 'captained' almost enough aboard the schooner and up to Boston. Just plain 'Tunis' for those that are my friends suits me a sight better."
"I shall call you 'Tunis,' if you like," she said composedly. "But about taking dinner with you—I am not so sure."
"Why not?" he demanded.
"Your aunt has never called here since I have been on the Head."
"She don't call anywhere. She never did that I can remember. She goes to church on Sunday sometimes. Occasionally she has to go to town to buy things. Once in a dog's age she leaves anchor and gets as far as Paulmouth. But other times she's never off the place."
"I—I feel hesitant about doing what you ask, Captain—Tunis, I mean."
"Why?"
"You know well enough," said Sheila. "If anything should turn up—if the truth should come out—"
"Now, are you still worrying about that, Ida May?"
"Don't you think of it—Tunis?"
"Not a bit! We're as safe as a church. That girl will never show up here on Wreckers' Head. Of course not!"
He seemed absolutely confident. In the dim illumination of the lantern she looked very closely into his face. Then it was not fear of exposure that kept Tunis Latham silent. She moved closer to him, looking up into his countenance, holding the lantern so that her own face was in the shadow.
"Who suggested my coming to dinner, Tunis? You, or your Aunt Lucretia?"
"If you knew my aunt! Well! She seldom says a word. But when I have anything to say, I talk along just as though she answered back like an ordinary person would. I can tell if she's interested."
"Yes?"
"She's been interested in you from the start, I know. She showed it in her look the very first time I spoke of you—that day I brought you here to Wreckers' Head."
"But—but you have never spoken of this before. She did not come to call."
"I'll tell you," said Tunis earnestly. "I wanted to be sure. Aunt 'Cretia knew your—er—Sarah Honey very well."
"Oh."
"Just about as well as Mrs. Ball did. When she was staying here with Aunt Prue, she used to run over to our place a lot.
"You don't remember it," continued Tunis, grinning suddenly; "but you were taken over there when you were a baby."
"Oh, don't! Don't!" cried the girl. "Let us not speak so lightly—so carelessly. Suppose—suppose—"
"Suppose nothing!" exclaimed Tunis. "Don't have any fears. She wanted to know just how you looked—every particular. Oh, she has ways of showing what she wants without getting what you'd call voluble! I told her about your hair—your eyes—everything. I know from the way she looked that she accepts the fact of your being the real Ida May without more question than Cap'n Ira and Aunt Prue."
She was silent, thinking. Then she sighed.
"I will accept the invitation, Tunis. But I feel—I feel that all is not for the best. But what must be must be. So—oh, I'll go!"