'That will be famous work,' said Mrs. Burke. 'But this is a clipper ship.'
'Are we sailing?' said I.
'Yes. Some canvas is spread. But the tug still has hold of us,' responded Mr. Owen.
I felt no movement in the ship. She was going along with the seething steadiness of a sleigh. Just then Captain Burke came below. His composed, cheerful face, peak-bearded with red hair and arch, merry Irish eyes, seemed to bring a new atmosphere of light into the place. He addressed some friendly sympathetic question to me; we then seated ourselves, I on the captain's right, and Mr. Owen at the foot of the table.
It was my first meal at sea, if indeed the ship could then be called at sea, and memorable to me for that reason. I had tasted no food since breakfast, and now tried to eat, but less from appetite than from the desire to please my old nurse. My chat with her before supper had determined me to fight with my grief, to regard the voyage as a long holiday yachting excursion, which should be happy if I accepted it as a twelvemonth's diversion that was to end in making me a new woman, and in fitting me to become a wife. It was this last point that Mrs. Burke had insisted upon, and, like a good many ideas which are obvious and commonplace when uttered, it took my fancy, lighted up my views as though it had been a sort of revelation, and whilst I sat at supper I was so composed that more than once I caught Mr. Owen dart a glance of surprise at me when I answered or put a question.
'The sea is very smooth here, Edward,' said Mrs. Burke.
'There's no sea yet,' he answered. 'It's river so far. We're towing through what's called the Warp, near the Nore, whose light ye should be able to see, Miss Otway,' said he, getting up and ducking and bobbing to command the whole compass of a cabin window.
'I wonder the ship doesn't run the tug down,' said Mr. Owen.
The captain looked at me with his merry eyes and chuckled.
'Ay, we're a match for the old slapper even with nothing on us but fore and aft canvas and two topsails,' said he. 'I wish Sir Mortimer was with us. Here's a voyage to thread a heart through the strands of his years. I don't know that ever I met a gentleman I took a greater fancy to, unless it's Mr. Moore,' and he gave me a bow, whilst I smiled, feeling a faint glow in my cheeks.