What could I do, under such circumstances, but hand over my card, still protesting? Two minutes later my new acquaintance reappeared with an invitation for me to walk upstairs. I was ushered into a large room, with the light so greatly dimmed by the closed jalousies, and the bare floor polished to such a glass-like slipperiness by the daily application of beeswax that I first ran foul of a chair, and then very nearly foundered in the endeavour to preserve my balance. I thought I caught a sound somewhat like that of a suppressed titter, but could not be certain. I, however, heard a very gentle and musical voice say:
“How do you do, Mr Grenvile? I am very pleased to make your acquaintance. Lucy, dear, please throw open the jalousies. We are so dark here that Mr Grenvile cannot see where he is.”
Then, as the jalousies were flung back and the evening light streamed into the apartment, I became aware of a rather stout lady—very pale, but still good-looking, although she had probably passed over to the shady side of forty—standing before me with outstretched hand, waiting patiently for me to take it, while a young woman of about twenty years of age was advancing upon me from the window. With easy grace the elder lady introduced herself as Mrs Todd, and the young lady as her daughter Lucy. Then she invited me to be seated, explaining that her husband was dressing and would join us in the course of a few minutes. As a matter of fact it was about twenty minutes before Mr Todd—a typical Scotsman from head to heel, and speaking as broadly as though he had just arrived from ‘Glesca’ instead of having been a resident in Kingston for a quarter of a century—made his appearance. But I certainly did not regret the delay, for those twenty minutes were among the most pleasant that I had ever spent in my life. Mrs Todd soon proved herself to be one of those gentle, kindly-mannered, sweet-dispositioned women with whom one instantly finds oneself on the most friendly and cordial terms, while Miss Lucy with equal celerity revealed herself as a sprightly, high-spirited maiden without a particle of artificiality about her, bright and vivacious of manner, with plenty to say for herself, but at the same time thoroughly sensible. As for Mr Todd, he was, as I have said, a typical Scotsman, but I ought to have added “of the very best sort”, for from beneath his superficial businesslike keenness and shrewdness the natural kindliness and geniality of his disposition was constantly peeping through. As an instance of this I may mention that within five minutes of my meeting him he was insisting upon my making his house my home for as long a time as I might be on the island, which invitation his wife and his daughter were seconding with an earnestness that left me no room to doubt its absolute sincerity. And I may as well say, here and now, that when I subsequently put the hospitality of this delightful and warm-hearted family to the proof, so far from the performance falling short of the promise, I could not have been treated with greater kindness and consideration—ay, and I may even add, affection—had they been my own nearest relatives.
We—that is to say, Mr Todd and myself—arrived at the Pen a few minutes before seven o’clock, and were forthwith ushered into the drawing-room, where we were received in most hospitable fashion by Sir Timothy and Lady Tompion, and where we found already assembled several captains and other officers from the men-o’-war then in harbour, with a sprinkling of merchants from Kingston and planters from the neighbouring estates, all very genial, jovial characters in their several ways. Having first introduced me to Lady Tompion, and allowed me a minute or two to pay my respects to her, Sir Timothy very kindly made me known to the officers and other guests present. Dinner having been announced, we all filed into the dining-room and took our places. The dinner was a distinctly sumptuous affair, and included many very delicious dishes and viands with which I then made my first acquaintance. But I need not dwell upon this part of the entertainment. Let it suffice to say that I enjoyed myself amazingly, the more so, perhaps, from the fact that everybody, from Lady Tompion downward, seemed to be vying with each other to put me at my ease and make me feel comfortable. Later, however, I found that I was mistaken as to this. People were not making any special effort in my behalf, but were simply exhibiting that remarkable geniality and friendliness of feeling that appears to be engendered by breathing the air of this lovely island.
At length the moment arrived for us to make our adieux and go; but when I stepped up to Lady Tompion to say good-night she exclaimed:
“Oh, but you are not going back to your ship, or to Kingston either, for that matter, to-night. Sir Timothy intends you to sleep here, and I have already made all the necessary arrangements. The fact is,” she explained in a lower tone of voice, “that he wants to have a long chat with you, so Mr Todd will have to excuse you for this once. I see that he has already made up his mind to carry you off prisoner to his own house, but he must defer that until next time.” This with a most charming smile to Mr Todd, who was standing close by waiting to say good-night.
The guests having departed, Sir Timothy led the way into his study, and, having invited me to make myself comfortable in a cane lounging chair, while he settled himself in another, said:
“Since parting from you at Port Royal this afternoon I have found an opportunity to read the private letter from the commodore which accompanied his dispatch, and what he said therein respecting yourself has greatly interested me; I have therefore arranged for you to sleep up here to-night in order that I may have the opportunity for a quiet chat with you. I may tell you, young gentleman, that the commodore’s report of your conduct upon certain occasions has very favourably impressed me, so much so, indeed, that I am more than half-inclined to keep you here, instead of sending you back—but we shall see, we shall see. Now, just give me a detailed account of your entire services from the time when you first entered the navy, and tell it me as you would to any ordinary friend, for this conversation is not official; it is not a report from a midshipman to an admiral, but just a friendly chat between an elderly gentleman and a young one.”
Thus encouraged I got under way and spun my yarn as best I could, Sir Timothy interrupting me from time to time to ask a question or to elicit from me an explanation of some point which I had not made quite clear. We sat there talking until close upon three o’clock in the morning, and when at length we rose to retire to our respective rooms, Sir Timothy remarked:
“Well, Mr Grenvile, I have listened to your story with a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction, and what you have told me has fully confirmed me in my half-formed determination to keep you here on the station for the present. Come to me at my office down at Port Royal, at—let me see—yes, say three o’clock to-morrow, or, rather, this afternoon, and I shall then have something more to say to you. Oh, and there is another matter upon which I intended to speak to you! I understand, both from the commodore and yourself, that you are anxious to pass, so that your acting order as lieutenant may be confirmed. Now it happens, very luckily for you, that an examination of midshipmen has been arranged for next week; it will take place aboard the Achilles, and I would strongly recommend you to send in your papers at once, for, from what you have told me to-night, I have no doubt that you will be able to pass without the slightest difficulty. And now, good-night! Breakfast will be on the table at eight o’clock sharp.”