Vesty of the Basins Part 27

There was naught to do, in Captain Pharo's exalted frame of mind, but to follow the commanding flower; but when that had become once more congenially distracted I returned to the ball-room to observe there.

The dancers were at rest, and Angie Fay too, the stewards serving them with refreshments; but Fluke and Gurdon were playing softly together on their violins, Fluke with waved hair on his forehead, Gurdon with still brow. Vesty had taken up her sleeping child and was holding him. The Basins loved sad music, low, mournful lullabys on the wind; they listened.

I listened so deeply, so strangely, it was like the awaking from a dream when I heard Notely and his guests inviting the dancers again to the floor.

"Good-night, major," Vesty whispered kindly, coming to me. She had her shawl wrapped over herself and her infant, and was departing quietly with her father-in-law, Captain Rafe.

"I--I didn't get one eye-beam from her the whole evenin'--no, by Jove!

Note," said "Sid," watching that gently retreating figure; "not one!

And she just now leaned over and showered a whole peck of 'em on that poor little----"

"Hus.h.!.+" said Notely.

I witnessed with some sadness how Captain Pharo and Captain Judah were walking the room, arm-in-arm, Captain Judah reading from some of Angie Fay's most affecting strains, and Captain Pharo willingly melted to tears thereat.

"Read that ag'in, Judah," I heard Captain Pharo snivel, as they were pa.s.sing me.

Then I heard the melodramatic snuffle of that "Adieu! farewell! adieu!"

Still farther down the room sobs were echoed back to me from Captain Pharo's bursting heart.

So that I was gratified, at the next round, to hear Captain Pharo declare that he felt the necessity of going home at once to have a copy of the verses made and "a ya-ard built around 'em, Judah."

Most of the Basins had gone; there were still some of the prettiest girls upon the floor, not with proper Basin escort, but with Notely's broadcloth guests, who were whispering sweet words of adulation to tingling, unaccustomed ears.

"Come!" Gurdon whispered to Fluke; "we should give up playing at this hour, and take those girls home."

Fluke shook his head. "Go home, you," he said: "one fiddle is enough!

If we want a merry time, don't bother."

Gurdon stayed patiently, but with a brow waxing determined. The flattered girls, the broadcloth guests cast unwelcome glances at him.

"Go home, Gurd!" said Fluke, at last. "You spoil it all with a face like that. Go on, and don't mind us, or you and I shall quarrel."

"Not till those girls are ready to be taken home," said Gurdon.

Fluke threw down his fiddle with an oath. "I said that you and I should quarrel."

"I would not strike my twin-brother for all the false men and foolish girls in Christendom!" said Gurdon, standing before Fluke's threat, with folded arms, and such a look at him that Fluke came to himself, wincing.

"We may as well go home," he said sulkily.

The young men of the world watched this scene with amus.e.m.e.nt not untempered with choler, while they proceeded elaborately to a.s.sist the pretty Basins, who were wrapping themselves in their thin shawls.

"I fancy we are not to be trusted to escort these young ladies home?"

said "Sid," with an elegant sarcastic inclination toward Gurdon.

"No," said poor Gurdon stonily. For he had played for them with a gracious heart all the evening, and it was hard to be hated. But he marshalled his flock away without flinching.

XV

THE BROTHERS

"There 's got to be a new deal to me in this world pretty soon," said Wesley, "or I shall kick."

I found him among the clam flats, leaning his spent and hopeless being on his rake.

"What is it, Wesley?"

"Belle O'Neill got me to help her set a trap to ketch a mink and a fox; she said we should git two dollars apiece; and we caught--we caught Miss Pray's tom-cat!"

Wesley rubbed his grimy hand across his eyes.

"She scolded awful and told us to go down to the clam flats and not to come home till we'd got two bushels o' clams for the hens. Fast as I get a roller full and go over and emp'y 'em on the bank the crows come 'n' eat 'em up--look a' there!"

I saw.

"Wesley, your load does seem greater than you can bear." He wore trousers of a style prevalent among the Basins, of meal sacks; only his were not shaped at all--there was simply a sack for each leg, tied with gathering strings at the ankles. His jacket was as much too small for his stout little person as his trousers were voluminous; and Miss Pray, who was artistic by freaks, had made it with an impertinent little tail like a bird's tail.

Wesley was not only afflicted, he was ludicrous in the face of high heaven.

"There 's got to be a new deal," blubbered he, with his fist in his eyes, "or I shall kick."

"_Could_ you kick in those trousers, Wesley?" I said.

He regarded me curiously, then replied with evident faith: "I could, nights."

"Ah! I'm so lame that I couldn't even kick much, nights, Wesley."

His countenance changed from its self-pity; he removed the fist from his eyes. "I've always wondered," he said, "'t you didn't kick more."

"Where is Belle O'Neill?"

"I told 'er 't she'd got me to set the trap, 'nd she orter, 't least, keep the crows off'n the clams; but she went over to Lunette's and borrowed the book, 'n' she's settin' there in the graves, where Miss Pray can't see her, readin' it."

I sighed to think how early, among his other trials, Wesley was learning the frailties of the lovable s.e.x.

"I will go up and keep the crows off of the clams for you, Wesley."

"I think," said Wesley innocently, his face expressing a kindlier grat.i.tude than his words conveyed, "'t you could scare 'em off first-rate!"

While I reclined on the green bank, not far from the clams, a solemn and fearful reprehension to the crows, I heard Belle O'Neill's voice reading to herself aloud among the graves. The Basins possessed but one secular volume, which they were accustomed to lend from house to house, and which was designated without confusion as "the book."

Belle O'Neill, peeping out from the graves, saw me, and came forward, blus.h.i.+ng timidly. Wesley rose from the clam flats and hissed at her for her treachery, but she was very fair, and I received her kindly.

"Major Henry," said she, "will you show me what this means, please?"