"What makes her take such interest in the boat?" said Peter within himself. "It sounded as if she wished they had not gone out. But who are they, that she should wish about them? Or perhaps she was wishing that she had not made them go. Ha! that must be it. How eagerly she turned to look when Petty spoke! And who could recognise any one at this distance? Aha! I smell a rat--a lover--a rival. Have a care, Master Peter, or you will miss your footing. Propose and be refused, and look like a fool! Take time, and make sure before you leap."
Walter Petty had heard Margaret's exclamation likewise, but it affected him differently. Either he was too much interested in the young lady, or he was too little interested and hopeful for himself. He had always thought of himself as but a poor creature by the side of Margaret. All that he perceived was, that Margaret took an interest in the boat which he had pointed out, and seemed uneasy about its men working so hard. Why she should be uneasy he did not stop to inquire. It might be the holy pity of her nature, which sympathised with the toils and sufferings of all mankind in a way beyond his ken. It might be anything. He only saw that she was troubled and anxious about that boat and its occupants, and he hastened to mitigate her anxiety.
"It will not be so very hard when they get the boat under way," he said. "Already it goes easier; and see how well they row! They are experienced hands. No; never fear. They will not hurt themselves. And see, out there upon the bay, those moving clouded places! 'Cats'-paws' the sailors call them. They are caused by a puff of air striking the water. When the boatmen get out there, their sail will help them, and I should not wonder but a breeze is springing up, which causes those cats'-paws. Never fear; the boat will do well enough."
He had his reward in the grateful smile with which Margaret regarded him, in looking past his ear at the evolutions of the boat in question, and which made him feel more adult than he had felt in her presence since his lunacy began. The climax of his satisfaction came when she began to speak--
"How much you know about sailing and the sea, Mr Petty! and how interesting it is, to be sure! Yes, really; I must watch that boat to see it work into the breezy water. But of course; there is breeze even here. See how my handkerchief flutters when I hold it out;" and it seemed to Peter Wilkie, looking on, that one of the boatmen thereupon drew out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
"Hm," he muttered below his breath. "Look out, Peter Wilkie!"
Walter Petty explained to Margaret that the breeze which stirred her handkerchief arose not from the motion of the air, but from their own motion through it.
"You seem to know everything, Mr Petty, about boats and sailing; and I am so ignorant. Tell me all you know. It seems so mysterious that--that pressing the tiller, for instance, to one side should make the boat go to the other;" and Margaret turned round full front to Petty--it may have been past his ear that she was looking--with her profile towards Wilkie, whose countenance fell a little as he asked himself--
"Does she guess that I have been smelling out her little game?"
The "smelling out" had seemed droll to him the moment before; but now, when this slight sign of displeasure--if it were a sign--might be taken as confirmation, it was not so amusing. And yet the girl seemed a finer girl than ever, now that he suspected a rival, and perhaps a favoured rival, in her regard. He was not going to be allowed to play sultan, it appeared, throwing his handkerchief as he pleased, without fear of refusal; wherefore he ceased to question the value of the prize, and began really to think that he desired it.