Ronald would gladly have remained to watch over the safety of Edda and her parents, and Don Josef did not fail to employ every argument he could think of to persuade him that he would be right in so doing. He had, however, been absent from his ship much longer than had been intended; and though he could give a very good account of the way he had employed his time, and he knew that his captain would be perfectly satisfied, he felt sure that she would be employed in some work in which he would wish to take a part. Edda had too high a sense of the duty of an officer to attempt for a moment to detain him, though her sad looks showed how much she felt the parting. She talked hopefully of the future; of the happiness which might be in store for them when her father’s objections were overcome.
“They must be conquered some day,” she exclaimed. “Why should he object on the score of birth? We are cousins, though distant ones, and as for fortune, I have never been ambitious, and shall be well content to share what you may have, till— You know some day, Ronald, Lunnasting in all probability will be mine. I am not greedy of it. I would gladly see it belong to my long-lost cousin, poor aunt Hilda’s son, if he could be found; but after the lapse of so many years, that is not likely. Indeed, it is for your sake alone, Ronald, that I should prize it.”
Ronald pressed her to his heart. “Thanks, thanks, generous one,” he whispered. “We may yet obtain ample fortune to satisfy our wishes. Of that I have little fear.”
The tears came into Mrs Armytage’s eyes when Ronald wished her farewell. It appeared to her as if the only person to whom she could look with confidence for protection and support was about to leave her, for even should Colonel Armytage recover his health, his temper was not likely to improve, while, should he grow worse, she would be left in a still more helpless condition.
Ten days more passed, and a fine brig stood into the harbour. The master came on shore, and finding out Colonel Armytage, announced himself as Captain Carlton, of the “Helen,” bound direct for London. Nothing could be more convenient; every arrangement was soon concluded; the colonel and his family went on board; the generous Don Josef bade them farewell, and with a favourable breeze, a course was shaped for the Straits of Gibraltar.
The “Helen” remained only a couple of days at Gibraltar. Colonel Armytage refused to go on shore, or to allow his wife or daughter to go. They were glad, therefore, once more to be at sea. The weather continued fine, and the wind favourable, and there was every promise of a prosperous voyage. The wind was from the south-east, and as the “Helen” ran along the coast of Portugal the sea was perfectly smooth, except that a slight ripple played over its surface, on which the sun sparkled with dazzling brilliancy. An awning was spread, under which the ladies sat, and when the rock of Lisbon rose in view and the pine-crowned heights of Cintra, just then especially notorious, not for its beauty, not for its orange groves, but on account of the disgraceful treaty which had there lately been concluded, even Colonel Armytage condescended to come on deck, and to admire the beauty of the scene. Through their glasses the Cork convent could be seen perched on its lofty crags, and below them to the north the mass of odd-looking buildings known as the palace of Mafra, containing a royal residence, a monastery, barracks, and a church. Further north, little more could be seen than a long line of yellow sand, with pine-covered hills.
“Now, ladies, I think you have seen enough of Portugal,” said Captain Carlton. “We’ll haul off the shore, if you please; for, to tell you the truth, it’s a treacherous coast, which I’m in no way fond of. From here, right away till we come to Vigo in Spain, there is not a single harbour into which a ship can run for shelter; I don’t say that it’s a disgrace to the people—they didn’t make the coast; it was so formed for some good reason, I doubt not, but still I always like to give it a wide berth.”
The fine weather continued till the “Helen” had passed Cape Ortegal, and was fairly in the Bay of Biscay. The wind then increased, and became variable, and dark clouds were seen banking up in the south-western horizon. The kind old captain became less cheerful than usual. The brig no longer glided on smoothly and sedately as before, but began to roll and pitch with the rising sea. The ladies came on deck, but were unable to read and work as they had previously done, but Edda declared that she enjoyed the change, and found amusement in looking at the dancing seas, and in watching a shoal of porpoises which went careering along, sporting and rolling and keeping way with the brig without effort.
“Ah, young lady, you are looking at those fellows, are you?” said Captain Carlton. “Just watch how they go along. Now I have heard people on shore talk of a porpoise as a fat, heavy creature who hasn’t got any spirit in him, just like a hog, for instance, wallowing in the mud. I should like to see the race-horse which could keep up with them. They would beat that gallant frigate which passed us the other day, and as to this brig you see, they swim round and round her as if she was at anchor, and we are going a good seven knots through the water. People fancy when they see their black tails when they dive that they are rolling along, but the truth is, there isn’t a creature darts quicker through its native element than a porpoise.”
The captain’s lecture on the much-maligned fish was suddenly brought to a close by a cry from the masthead of a sail on the larboard-quarter. In war time merchantmen keep a sharp look-out, or ought to do so, that they may have timely notice to enable them to avoid an enemy. On the present occasion all Captain Carlton could do was to make more sail and to continue the same course he had been steering. As there were threatenings of a stiff breeze, if not of a gale, the hands were ordered to stand by to take it in again, should it be necessary.