The Merry Anne 3

The Merry Anne 3

Smiley could not see the house yet; it was hidden by the lumber piles on

the pier. But his eyes knew where to look, and they lingered there,

all the while that his sailor's sixth sense was watching the set of the

sails and the scudding ripples that marked the wind puffs. He wore a

clean red shirt to-day and a neckerchief that lay in even folds around

his neck. Redolent of soap he was, his face and hands scrubbed until

they shone. And still his eyes tried to look through fifty feet of

lumber to the little flowering porch, until a sail came in sight around

the end of the pier. Then he straightened up, and shifted his grip on

the spokes.

 

The small boat was also blue with a white stripe. At the stern sat a

single figure. But though they were still too far apart to distinguish

features, Dick knew that the figure was that of a girl--a girl of a

fine, healthy carriage, her face tanned an even brown, and a laugh in

her black eyes. He knew, even before he brought his glass to bear

on her, that she was dressed in a blue sailor suit, with a rolling

blue-and-white collar cut V-shape and giving a glimpse of her round

brown neck. He knew that her black hair was gathered simply with a

ribbon and left to hang about her shoulders, that her arms were bared to

the elbow. He could see that she was carrying a few yards more sail than

was safe for a catboat in that breeze, and there was a laugh in his own

eyes as he shook his head over her recklessness. He knew that it would

do no good to speak to her about it; and her father and mother had never

been able to look upon her with any but fond, foolish eyes.

 

Steadily the _Merry Anne_ drew in toward the pier; rapidly the

_Captain_--so Annie called her boat--came bobbing and skimming out to

meet her. A few moments more and Dick could wave his hat and shout,

"Ahoy, there!" And he heard in reply, as he had known that he should, a

merry "Ahoy, there! I 'll beat you in!" And then they raced for it, Annie

gaining, as she generally could, while the schooner was laboriously

coming about, and working in slowly under reduced sail. She ran in close

to the pier, came up into the wind, and waited there while the crew were

making the schooner fast.

 

At length the stevedores started unloading the lumber and Dick was free.

He leaned on the rail and looked down at Annie who had by this time

come alongside; and he saw that she had a bunch of blue-and-white

forget-me-nots in her hair.

 

"Well," she said, looking up, and driving all power of consecutive

thought out of Dick's head, as she always did when she rested her black

eyes full on his, "well, I beat you."

 

"Take me aboard, Annie. I've got something for you."

 

"All right, come down. You can take the sheet."

 

Dick pushed off from the schooner's side and the _Captain_ filled away

toward the shore.

 

"Hold on, Annie, come about. I don't have to go in yet."

 

"Where do you want to go?"

 

"I don't care--run out a little way."

 

Annie brought her about and Dick watched her with admiring eyes. "Well,

now," he began, as they settled down for a run off the wind, "I didn't

know whether I was going to get here to-day or not."

 

"It _was_ pretty bad."

 

"You were thinking of me, weren't you, Annie?"

 

She smiled and gave her attention to the boat.

 

"Roche was drunk, and I had to leave him at Manistee."

 

"You didn't come down shorthanded, did you, Dick,--in that storm?"

 

He nodded.

 

"But how? You couldn't have got much sleep."

 

"I didn't get any till this noon."

 

"Now, that's just like you, Dick, always running risks when you don't

have to."

 

"But I did have to."

 

"I don't see why."

 

"What day's to-day?"

 

A mischievous light came into her eyes, but her face was demure.

"Wednesday," she replied.

 

"Yes, I knew that."

 

"Why did you ask me, then?"

 

"Oh, Annie, Annie! When are you going to stop talking that way?"

 

Again the boat claimed all her attention. He leaned forward and dropped

his voice.

 

"Don't you think I've waited most long enough, Annie?"

 

"Now, Dick, be sensible."

 

"But haven't I been sensible? Not a word have I said for two months. And

I told you then I would speak on your birthday."

 

"So you really remembered my birthday?"

 

"Remembered it, Annie! What a girl you are! Do you know how long I've

been waiting? And all the boys laughing? It's two years this month. It

was on your birthday that I saw you first, you know. And it wasn't a

month after that that I spoke to you. How could I help it? Who could

have waited longer? And you, with your way of making me think you were

really going to say yes, and then just laughing at me."

 

"Now, Dick--if you don't stop and be sensible, I 'll take you straight

inshore."

 

"Oh, you wouldn't do that, Annie?"

 

"Yes, I would. I will now. Ready about!" The _Captain_ came rapidly up

into the wind, but stopped there with sail flapping; for Dick held the

sheet, and his hand had imprisoned hers on the tiller.

 

"Now, Dick--Dick--"

 

"Wait a minute. Don't be angry with me when I've risked the schooner

and everybody aboard her just so's to get down here on your birthday.

Promise me you 'll hold her in the wind while I get you your present."

 

She hesitated, and looked out toward the horizon.

 

"Promise me that, Annie, and I 'll let go your hand."

 

"You--you've forgotten--what you promised--"

 

"I know, I said I'd never take hold of your hand again until you put it

in mine--didn't I?"

 

She nodded, still looking away.

 

"And I've broken the promise. Do you know why, Annie? It's because when

you look at me the way you do sometimes, I could break every promise

I've ever made--and every law of Congress if I thought it would just

keep you looking at me."

 

Not a word from Annie.

 

"Promise me, Annie, that you 'll hold her here?"

 

Still no word.

 

"Won't you just nod, then?"

 

She hesitated a moment longer, then gave one uncertain little nod. He

released her hand, held the sheet between his knees, drew the package

from his pocket, and displayed the corals. She was trying bravely not to

look around, but her glance wavered, and finally she turned and looked

at it with eager eyes. "Oh, Dick, did you bring that for me?"

 

"I surely did." He held it up, and when she bent her head forward, he

slipped it over and around her neck. Her eyes shone as she ran the red

beads through her fingers and looked at the carved pendant. Dick leaned

back and watched her contentedly. Finally she let her eyes steal upward

and meet his, with a smile that was half roguish. "I never really

laughed at you, did I, Dick?"

 

He moved forward with sudden eagerness. "Don't you think now is a good

time to say yes, Annie,--now, on your birthday? I own a quarter of the

schooner now, you know; and I'm ready to make another payment to-morrow.

And don't you see, when we're married you can help me to save, and

before we know it we can have a home and a business of our own." She was

bending over the corals. "You didn't really think you could save more

with--with me, than you could alone, did you, Dick?"

 

"Yes, I'm sure of it. It will give me something to work for, don't you

see?"

 

"But--but--" very shyly, this--"Haven't you anything to work for now?"

 

"Oh, Annie, do you mean that--are you telling me you 'll give me the

right to work for you? That's all I want to know."

 

"Now, Dick--please let go my hand--you promised, you know--"

 

"What is a promise now! If you knew how you torture me when you lead me

on till I'm half wild and then change around till I don't know what I've

said or what you've said or hardly who I am--"

 

"No, Dick, you mustn't--I mean it. We must go in. See, there's father on

the beach. It must be supper-time."

 

"Wait a minute--I haven't half told you--"

 

But she was merciless. The _Captain_ came about and headed shoreward.

 

"Did you meet the revenue cutter anywhere up the Lake--the _Foote?_ She

was here yesterday."

 

"There you are again, all changed around! What do I care about the

_Foote_--when I'm just waiting to hear you say the only word that can

make my life worth living. Now, Annie--"

 

"You mustn't, Dick. I've let you say too much now. If you go on, you 'll

make me feel that I can't even thank you for your present."