“Is it for a spell, marm?” he asked; “or for a long cruise? If I might make so free, marm, I’d like to be told the name of the skipper and the tonnage of the craft!”
“I start in an hour for the north,” she continued, neither understanding nor heeding his proviso. “I am going into the neighbourhood of your old captain, Sir George Hamilton.”
“Captain George!” exclaimed the seaman, with difficulty restraining himself from shying his hat to the ceiling, and looking sheepishly conscious, he had almost committed this tempting solecism. “What! our Captain George? I’m not much of a talking chap, marm; I haven’t got the time, but if that’s the port you’re bound for, I’ll sail round the world with you, if we beat against a headwind the whole voyage through!”
With such sentiments the preliminaries were easily adjusted, and it was arranged that Smoke-Jack should accompany the Marquise on her journey with no more delay than would be required to purchase him landsman’s attire. He entered into the scheme with thorough good-will, though expressing, and doubtless feeling, some little disappointment when he learned that Justine, of whom he had caught a glimpse on the stairs, was not to be of the party.
Avowedly a woman-hater, he had, of course, a real weakness for the softer sex, and with all his deference to the Marquise, would have found much delight in the society of her waiting-maid. Such specimens as Justine he considered his especial study, and believed that of all men he best understood their qualities, and was most conversant with “the trim on ’em.”
CHAPTER LV
FOREWARNED
It is needless to follow Madame de Montmirail and her new retainer through the different stages of their journey to the north. By dint of liberal pay, with some nautical eloquence on the part of Smoke-Jack, who, being a man of few words, spoke those few to the purpose, they overtook the ‘Flying Post’ coach by noon of the second day at a town some fifteen miles south of Hamilton Hill. Calculating to arrive before nightfall, they here transferred themselves and their luggage to that lumbering conveyance; and if the Marquise wished to avoid notice, such a measure was prudent enough. In the masked lady closely wrapped up and silent, who sat preoccupied inside, no one could suspect the brilliant and sumptuous Frenchwoman, the beauty of two consecutive Courts. Nor, so long as he kept his mouth shut, did Smoke-Jack’s seafaring character show through his shore-going disguise, consisting of jack-boots, three-cornered hat, scratch-wig, and long grey duffle greatcoat, in which he might have passed for a Quaker, but that the butt-end of a pistol peeped out of its side-pockets on each side.
Their fellow-passengers found their curiosity completely baffled by the haughty taciturnity of the one and the surly answers of the other. Even the ascent of Otterdale Scaur failed to elicit anything, although the rest of the freight alighted to walk up that steep and dangerous incline. In vain the ponderous coach creaked, and strained, and laboured; in vain driver flogged and guard expostulated; the lady inside was asleep, and must not be disturbed. Smoke-Jack, on the roof, swore that he had paid his passage, and would stick to the ship while a plank held. It was impossible to make anything satisfactory out of this strangely-assorted couple, and the task was abandoned in despair long before the weary stretch of road had been traversed that led northward over the brown moorland past the door of the “Hamilton Arms.”