Rattenbury's face glowed with pleasure. He continued for a while playing variations on the theme, as again in memory he came up the Channel, and smelt the breeze, and heard the hiss of the water, and saw the twinkle of the lights succeeding each other.
Then he laid down his violin and said, 'Ah, Winefred! you tangle up my kerchief into a knot on the floor. Before long you will be able to dance on it and skip off, leaving it smooth as when laid down.'
'Then,' said the girl, 'Mr. Dench must not have gambolled on it first. I have done my best to smooth what he ruffled.'
'Come now,' said the captain, 'Jane, let us hear you sing.'
Without hesitation she struck up: 'Early one morning, just as the sun was rising,' and Job accompanied her, chiming on the strings. A pathetic song to a plaintive melody, but the effect on the singer was not pleasing. On the contrary, as she sang of the woes of the forsaken maiden, her face darkened, its lines grew deep, and her brow contracted. She did not observe the intensity with which Dench watched her.
'Remember the vows that you made to your Mary;
Remember the bower where you vowed to be true;
Oh, don't deceive me; oh, never leave me!
How should you use a poor maiden so?'