I began to understand. “He seemed to me to carry himself very properly, sir.”
“But in face of so much beauty, sir! Why, Prince George himself would have good cause to tremble in the presence of such a lady. The assurance of these young fellows is prodigious! I’m unwilling to prejudice the foolish youth in the eyes of a person he reveres so highly, but I must confess I should be glad to see his arrogant pretensions suitably rebuked.”
“Sure, sir, you’re too hard,” I said, while Miss Freyne turned her eyes in bewilderment from one of us to the other. “The young gentleman displayed a very proper sense of his own unworthiness as compared with the lady, and after all, he has done his best to serve her.”
“A plague on his services, sir!” cried Mr Watts. “Is it to be endured that the mere risque of finding himself dismissed the navy, together with a paltry five months’ residing and working here for Miss Freyne’s release, should inspire the coxcomb with the notion of possessing a claim on the lady’s gratitude?”
Here Miss Freyne interrupted us. “Sir,” she said, with the most charming blush imaginable, “I can’t help guessing that you speak of Mr Fraser. I trust I han’t been so unfortunate as in any way to injure his prospects in life through the generous ardour that impelled him to attempt my release?”
“Why, madam,” says Mr Watts, pushing his wig on one side, as one greatly perplexed, “this is the fact of the matter—though indeed, if I didn’t know that Miss Freyne’s wit and discretion are reported to exceed, if possible, her beauty, I should not venture to lay it before her. I can’t deny but Mr Fraser is in bad odour with his superiors, and runs some risque of being put on his trial for desertion, owing to his exceeding the time allowed him here by the Admiral; but as I said just now, any man should count himself honoured in being permitted to run some risque for Miss Freyne’s sake.”
But here I thought that Mr Watts was gone too far, for the unfortunate lady fell back against the goods behind her, as pale as death. “Alas!” she murmured, “must I involve yet another in the miseries I bring on all concerned with me—and this one my brave deliverer?”
“Nay, madam,” cried Mr Watts, “the young gentleman is of opinion that you may compensate him if you will for any risques to which he may have been exposed. But, as I was saying, who could expect Miss Freyne to sacrifice herself for such an insignificant person?”
The lady’s face was whiter than before. “Sacrifice myself? I offered that very thing, but he refused,” she breathed, so low that we could scarce hear her, “and now he sends to ask it of me! No, sir,” she cried out suddenly, “’tis unpossible. You must have mistook him. He could not be so base.”
“Why, madam,” said Mr Watts, in extreme surprise, “I have said that I think the young gentleman presumptuous, but I can’t see that there’s any baseness in asking you to be his.”