[CHAPTER XXIII]
“STOP HER”
THE VOYAGE HOME—“WHOM TO MARRY”—DISINTERESTED ADVICE—THE LOOKER-ON SEES MOST OF THE GAME—A FOG IN THE CHANNEL—FRANK’S STRIKING ARGUMENTS—LADIES FIRST—THE REMNANT ON THE WRECK—HOPE ON THE HORIZON—HAIRBLOWER’S OFFER
In these days of steam and perpetual locomotion everybody has been a voyage of some sort over the seas; and one of these uncomfortable expeditions is so like another, that it is needless to describe the transit of Frank Hardingstone and Cousin Charlie from the Cape home. There were but few passengers on board the Phlegethon, and those were as much bored with the length and monotony of their voyage as passengers usually are; they ate, drank, smoked, walked the deck, pestered the professionals with perpetual questions as to when they should make the Needles, and otherwise comported themselves so as to lengthen as much as possible the apparent duration of their imprisonment. Charlie was as idle and impatient as the rest. Frank alone seemed an exception to the general rule; when not reading hard in his cabin he was sure to be found studying steam in the engine-room, “shooting the sun” with the captain, or learning navigation with the mate. “There’s a good man spoilt in making that chap a gentleman,” was the constant remark of these worthies, who contracted an immense love and admiration for Frank. Yet of late he had maintained a grim reserve very foreign to his usual open demeanour, and more especially in the society of Cousin Charlie. He did not shun him, nor did that careless and good-humoured young gentleman perceive any difference in his friend’s manner; but Frank could not conceal from himself that he was not thoroughly at ease with the boy for whom he had endured so much. He felt that he had given up his dearest hopes for his young protégé—that he had sacrificed to him the inestimable treasure of Blanche Kettering’s love; he had on one or two occasions even done such violence to his feelings as to touch upon the subject of their approaching marriage in his conversations with her cousin, and had been surprised and disgusted at the coldness with which so engrossing a topic was received by the young gentleman most concerned. Frank could have borne it better, he thought, had Charlie been worthy of the blessing in store for him—had he appreciated the unspeakable bliss which others would have given all on earth to enjoy; but to yield her to one who scarce seemed willing to stretch out his hand to receive her—to resign all that made life valuable to another, and to find that other appreciated the object as little as the sacrifice—this was indeed a hard task; but Frank thought it his duty so to act, and resolved, with his usual determination and forgetfulness of self, that he would lose no opportunity of forcing upon Charlie the absolute necessity of marrying the only woman he had himself ever loved. Thus the voyage drew to a close. Contrary winds were baffled by the power of steam; the good ship stemmed the mountain waves of the Bay of Biscay, and at length the coast of England was hailed; and, though labouring in a heavy gale of wind and a cross-pitching sea, they were steaming steadily up the Channel, and congratulating themselves that to-morrow they would once more set foot on English ground. Frank and Charlie were on deck, enjoying the broken gleams of an afternoon’s sun, that shone fitfully through the mists and storm-rack driving fast overhead; and their conversation naturally enough turned upon their own plans and intentions when they should get ashore. Charlie was full of his horses and his anticipations of sport in game-preserve and hunting-field, with sundry speculations as to the state of “Haphazard’s” legs, much damaged by the never-to-be-forgotten steeple-chase; and it was with difficulty Frank could command his attention whilst he made a final effort to impress upon him the absolute necessity of his making up his mind and marrying his pretty cousin forthwith.
“It’s not fair upon any one,” said Frank, holding manfully on to the mizen-topmast stay, “it’s not doing as you’d be done by, to keep a thing of this sort off and on; it’s not fair upon your family; it’s not fair upon your uncle; and, above all, it’s not fair upon Miss Kettering herself. I conceive that you are bound, as a gentleman, to make all necessary arrangements, so that the business may be concluded within a month of your arrival at Newton-Hollows.”
Charlie looked rather aghast. “Well, but,” said he, “I should have to leave the regiment. You wouldn’t have me bring Blanche out to Kaffirland—poor little Blanche, she’d be frightened to death, and I know I should have to sell out—Frank, I couldn’t bear to leave the regiment. I like soldiering better than anything.”
“We can’t help that,” rejoined his friend. “You’ve a duty to perform in life, and you must go through with it. You’re not to live for yourself alone; and look how many people are interested in this question. In the first place, there’s your cousin. In consequence of this will they’ve found, you have been the innocent cause of robbing her of a princely inheritance; this is the only method by which you can replace her in her former advantageous position. It was evidently intended all through by your uncle and your poor aunt that this marriage should take place, and their wishes ought to be your law. Then the General has set his heart upon it, I know, and you are both under great obligations to that kind old man. But all these considerations are as nothing compared with the feelings of Blanche herself. Charlie, would you begin by supplanting her in her birthright, and finish by breaking her heart?”
Charlie looked wofully disconcerted. This was altogether a new light, and he stammered out, “Of course I should like to do what’s right, but I don’t want to give up the army;—and—and—I’m very fond of Blanche, you know, and all that, but I don’t think I quite like her well enough to marry her.”
“Not like her!” exclaimed Hardingstone, to whom this latter reason was totally incomprehensible, “not like such a girl as that—the loveliest, the sweetest, the most angelic, the most ladylike creature on the face of the earth—I’ve never seen anything the least to be compared to her in my experience; and you talk of not liking her!”