Lady of the Barge | Page 2

have, 'ave you!" said the skipper, sharply. "And what do you
think Louisa will say to it?"
"That's your look out," said Louisa's brother, cheerfully. "I'll make her
up a bed for'ard, and we'll all be as happy as you please."
He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a series
of whistles of the most amatory description.
"There she is," he said. "I told her to wait outside."
He ran upon deck, and his perturbed brother-in-law, following at his
leisure, was just in time to see him descending the ladder with a young
woman and a small handbag.
"This is my brother-in-law, Cap'n Gibbs," said Ted, introducing the
new arrival; "smartest man at a barge on the river."
The girl extended a neatly gloved hand, shook the skipper's affably, and
looked wonderingly about her.

"It's very close to the water, Ted," she said, dubiously.
The skipper coughed. "We don't take passengers as a rule," he said,
awkwardly; "we 'ain't got much convenience for them."
"Never mind," said the girl, kindly; "I sha'nt expect too much."
She turned away, and following the mate down to the cabin, went into
ecstasies over the space-saving contrivances she found there. The
drawers fitted in the skipper's bunk were a source of particular interest,
and the owner watched with strong disapprobation through the skylight
her efforts to make him an apple-pie bed with the limited means at her
disposal. He went down below at once as a wet blanket.
"I was just shaking your bed up a bit," said Miss Harris, reddening.
"I see you was," said the skipper, briefly.
He tried to pluck up courage to tell her that he couldn't take her, but
only succeeded in giving vent to an inhospitable cough.
"I'll get the supper," said the mate, suddenly; "you sit down, old man,
and talk to Lucy."
In honour of the visitor he spread a small cloth, and then proceeded to
produce cold beef, pickles, and accessories in a manner which
reminded Miss Harris of white rabbits from a conjurer's hat. Captain
Gibbs, accepting the inevitable, ate his supper in silence and left them
to their glances.
"We must make you up a bed, for'ard, Lucy," said the mate, when they
had finished.
Miss Harris started. "Where's that?" she inquired.
"Other end o' the boat," replied the mate, gathering up some bedding
under his arm. "You might bring a lantern, John."
The skipper, who was feeling more sociable after a couple of glasses of

beer, complied, and accompanied the couple to the tiny forecastle. A
smell compounded of bilge, tar, paint, and other healthy disinfectants
emerged as the scuttle was pushed back. The skipper dangled the
lantern down and almost smiled.
"I can't sleep there," said the girl, with decision. "I shall die o' fright."
"You'll get used to it," said Ted, encouragingly, as he helped her down;
"it's quite dry and comfortable."
He put his arm round her waist and squeezed her hand, and aided by
this moral support, Miss Harris not only consented to remain, but found
various advantages in the forecastle over the cabin, which had escaped
the notice of previous voyagers.
"I'll leave you the lantern," said the mate, making it fast, "and we shall
be on deck most o' the night. We get under way at two."
He quitted the forecastle, followed by the skipper, after a polite but
futile attempt to give him precedence, and made his way to the cabin
for two or three hours' sleep.
"There'll be a row at the other end, Ted," said the skipper, nervously, as
he got into his bunk. "Louisa's sure to blame me for letting you keep
company with a gal like this. We was talking about you only the other
day, and she said if you was married five years from now, it 'ud be
quite soon enough."
"Let Loo mind her own business," said the mate, sharply; "she's not
going to nag me. She's not my wife, thank goodness!"
He turned over and fell fast asleep, waking up fresh and bright three
hours later, to commence what he fondly thought would be the
pleasantest voyage of his life.
The Arabella dropped slowly down with the tide, the wind being so
light that she was becalmed by every tall warehouse on the way. Off
Greenwich, however, the breeze freshened somewhat, and a little later

Miss Harris, looking somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to
hair, came slowly on deck.
"Where's the looking-glass?" she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her.
"How does my hair look?"
"All wavy," said the infatuated young man; "all little curls and
squiggles. Come down in the cabin; there's a glass there."
Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller,
followed the