Adventure, August 1917 — page 88: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

86 A look of positive horror dawned on McConaughy’s face. ‘““What? Go to sea wi’ that loon?” “Oh, he’s not so bad. Besides, you must remember that it would be an undertaking after your own heart—a chance for fine seamanship, and perhaps a fight before you got back.” “Humph,” grunted McConaughy un- compromisingly. Miss McNish drew intricate patterns on her desk-pad. “Lord Claragh did not tell you his real reason for the enterprise,” she said sud- denly. ‘‘He is deathly afraid his son will have to join the army. Anything would be better than that, and _ he looks upon his cruise as a sop to the authorities. If they will permit him to lend Mr. Tibbotts for occasional sea-forage he will be satisfied.” “The more ye say, the less prrejudiced I am for the mattherr,” barked McCon- aughy. . ‘‘You mustn’t consider me in making up your mind,” she continued. “If you can be of any use to the navy, I feel that I have no right to withhold your services. At the same time, I shouldn’t care to undertake the responsibility of ordering you or any of your men into danger.” “They'll be uncommon strrange to danger, ma men,’”’ commented McConaughy with unusual wit. “Well, will you go?”’ “For why should I inconvenience maself for the self-suffeecient English navy an’ a man wi’ no claim upon me but soft worrds an’ a sickly son?” countered McConaughy. “Ts there aught bir din’ the Red Funnel an’ the Claraghe”’ Miss McNish shielded her face with her hand and continued to draw geometric patterns over the blotter. ‘“‘No,” she said finally. ‘There is no tie between the Red Funnel and the Claragh.”’ She paused. “Not yet,” she added after a moment. McConaughy gasped. “Then there’ll be truth in the yarrns I ha’ hearrred?”’ he challenged. “Well,” said Miss McNish, smiling nervously, “if you’d only tell me the kind of yarns, Captain McConaughy.” “About your marrryin’ that—that’— he jerked inarticulately toward the door. She nodded. : “But—but—are ye daft?” Adventure For the first time she looked up at him squarely. “Captain McConaughy,” she said, “I don’t suppose you have the faintest idea of the pressure that can be brought to bear upon a woman in my position in a case like this. In the first place, my father and Lord Claragh talked about the—the— marriage’’—she rapped out the word with a venom that impressed even McConaughy —'‘when we were children. It was the wish of my father’s heart—one of the last things he said to me. Lord Claragh thinks that I would have a good effect on Herbert, steady him down, get him interested in the business. And he wants to see the lines brought together. Everybody has the same desire—even my own employees. Do you know you are the first person who has indicated opposition to the idea?” McConaughy opened his mouth, then felt there was nothing for him to say. ‘“‘There is a stunning effect in concerted pressure by many wills upon a single individual,’”’ she went on. ‘You can not imagine how it affects one. I am conscious continually of all these people wishing a certain thing. It baffles me. It wears me down. I am not emotional, Captain, but I begin to feel as though it would be easier to give in.” A crooked smile twisted her mouth. “Besides, you know, I’m getting on. I’m not so young as I was—the women all tell me that. Sometimes it seems it would be good to have a man to lean on.” “Ay, but not to supporrt,’” protested McConaughy. “If ye would ha’ a man, lassie, tak’ one will not expect ye to think for him. Ye’re an extraorrdinarr’ likely crreaturre, if ye will not mind ma sayin’ so, an’ ’tis plain rridiculous to suppose ye are requirred to bind yourself wi’ a monkey in a paper-collarr.”’ “Why, you talk as if you meant it, Captain!” she cried. ‘“‘T do mean it, ma’am.”’ “TI wish I had some more friends like you. But no. What is the use?’ She shook her head sadly. ‘“You’ll be sailing off again presently, and then a McConaughy brought his fist down with a crash upon the desk. “I have it,” he shouted in a voice that carried out to the counting-room. “You have what?” “‘A—the—the—well, what ye might——”’ CoOMmiclasoo CO S}