CHAPTER XIV
Lieutenant-Commander Stapleton advances with smiling face and outstretched hand towards two very frightened girls. He is quite aware that they would have cause indeed to feel alarmed if they really knew of the disaster that has happened to the _Marathon_; but he is also aware that they are in ignorance of this occurrence--and it is up to him to keep them so. Why should they be made to feel this additional shock, after all their sufferings?
So his first greeting is a cheery--
"So I have found you! And given you a fright at the same time, eh? You did not expect to see me again so soon, I suppose? But, as a matter of fact, our cruise was unexpectedly shortened, and I got ashore not so very long after you did."
"Oh, I am so glad, so glad!" Netta exclaims, with the most obvious relief and joy beaming in her pretty grey eyes.
"That's very good of you to say so," returns Stapleton, a little dryly; knowing that the loss of the _Marathon_ is at present a secret he is somewhat at a loss to account for this ebullition of gladness.
There is rather an awkward pause; and Stapleton's usually ready wit fails him when he searches in his mind for the appropriate thing to say next. Netta's uncalled for expressions of joy have made things just a little difficult for him.
Happily, the situation is relieved from an unexpected quarter, Mrs. Shaw coming into view and running--yes, running, and with rather shaky steps, towards her nephew.
"Why--there's--oh, Alick, my boy, my boy!" she cries, hugging him close, then holding him off to take a good look at him, and then hugging him again.
"Hallo, Auntie!" laughs the young man, recovering his self-possession, "why you seem all of a tremble like! Got a job of work to do, or what's affecting you?"
"You cheeky fellow!" is all she answers him: all she answers him openly, that is; for still holding him in her embrace, she finds opportunity to whisper in his ear:
"Hush, I know all about it. I've just seen your admiral. Remember, not a word to these two!"
And then, speaking in her natural tones and turning towards the girls:
"This bad nephew of mine is always giving me the most dreadful shocks! Coming back so soon, when I thought he was hundreds of miles away! Everyone well on board the _Marathon_, Alick?"
"Thank you, Auntie." Stapleton cannot bring himself to play up to the good soul's sly acting quite so well as she would like; but he does his best.
"I'm very glad indeed to hear that," Netta tells him. "You were all so good to us." So great is her reaction and relief of mind that she cannot help repeating her sentiments. And she looks so very much in earnest about it; her face grows quite pale as she speaks the simple words.
Mrs. Shaw notices this. "Why, child," she observes, "you're looking quite upset! You must have been allowing yourself to get over-excited--now don't tell me you haven't! You had better come indoors and lie down in the shade for a little while; I was half afraid it might be too much for you out here. Alick, you may stay a little and talk to Miss Norah, and then come in and see me before you go back. But don't stay too long, and mind you don't get her excited too!"
Not unwillingly, Netta obediently takes the good woman's proffered arm, and rising from her chair goes to seek the friendly shelter of her room in the hut. Indeed, it is quite true that what she has just now seen and heard has been rather overcoming. She has seen Stapleton alive, and heard from his lips that all on board the _Marathon_ are safe and sound. Norah also has told her that she did not leave the bomb in the ship; and, obviously, Patrick could not have done so either, since no misadventure has occurred. Now, she reflects, Norah's mind as well as her own can be at rest; and nothing remains but to get away as soon as can be arranged and try and live down the memory of this nightmare, taking up some quiet useful walk in life far away from Patrick's dreadful environment. All that will be easy, now that this gigantic load has been removed from their lives.
So thinks Netta, as she departs with her kind friend. And as she rests on the couch where Mrs. Shaw places her with much kind fussing and many injunctions to lie still and rest, she is able already to indulge in rosy visions of the future.
She does not sleep, but just lies motionless with wide-open eyes, and there is a trace of a smile lingering still on her lips. This happy, peaceful face is very different to the care-worn countenance she was wearing but half an hour ago. Like a child, she seems able to put off very quickly the horrors of the past as soon almost as they have gone, and to forget them utterly. Her conscience has never approved of the dreadful deed in which she was to have taken part--and, in fact, did take part up to a certain point; but then, her conscience was a very small factor in comparison with the iron force of her brother's compelling will, and it never really had a chance to assert itself.
Now, however, she is happy in the thought that events have turned out just as she would really have willed them to: it seems almost a miracle, and too good to be true, but the fact remains that she never wanted to blow up the ship, and the ship has not been blown up.
So Netta suffers no mental agonising like that of Norah's, whose purpose has only been broken down by one fearful blow after another.
So she rests with peaceful mind, and begins even now to build up hopeful plans for the better days to come.
Amongst these happy visions there is one that shapes itself very clearly and in the brightest colours: her cousin Norah must surely blend her life with that of the man who has won her heart. Why, the two are even now at this very moment sitting side by side and exchanging close confidences: from this it can only be a step to that chapter of their life story which closes with the words "and they lived happily ever after." What could be simpler or better than this? There is nothing in the world to prevent it, thinks Netta; and, having thoroughly settled this pleasing conclusion to her own complete satisfaction, she at last closes her eyes and falls into a happy slumber.
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