"That!" cried Antonia, wrinkling her pretty nose at it. "How a mercy's name may one sew with such thing?"
"You slip it on your palm—thus, and push your needle, open-handed."
"How like a clumsy man!"
"And how like very woman you talk! Have a care, brother Anthony!"
"Nay, we're private here, Adam, thank God! And we've but four pair o' stockings betwixt us, and as few shirts, and most of these need mending. Indeed you are very hard on your clothes, Adam, you are forever up and about, these days. Twice I watched you climb the masts to-day—and so dangerous and bad for your clothes."
"Ah, but to-day also, Antonia, I steered this ship,—and for an hour by the glass! To-morrow I'm to hale on the tackle o' one of the biggest guns, number four!"
"They won't shoot off the hateful things, will they, Adam?"
"Nay, 'tis but to exercise the crews; 'twill be mere dumb show."
"I heard them shoot cannons at The Tower once, and 'twas like the crack of doom. How far away it all seems now. The Tower ... London. 'Tis like a new world!"
"Why, so it is indeed," said Adam, turning to look at her again. "And in this new world I pray God you shall find ... True Happiness."
"And you also!" she answered, fervently. "And yet ... what is True Happiness?"
"Here is question, Antonia, hath puzzled all the philosophers through the ages."
"Adam, can Happiness true and abiding ever be in this sad, cruel world?"
"It is my sure hope and belief, Antonia. Though none, I think, may ever find it that seek for Self alone, since True Happiness is never selfish. I believe this blessing cometh only to such as forget self in love,—ay, and service for others."
"What mean you by such love, Adam?"
But here, and before he could reply, a voice beyond the open door did this for him, chanting these words gaily:
"Nay, Tony lad, 'tis question stupid!
Whom should he mean but wanton Cupid,
Little, naked, impish boy,
Sly, tender archer, elf of joy?
Dan Cupid that with burning darts
Through steel and buff transfixeth hearts.
Ha!
Would Cupid now an arrow shoot,
Speak, and I'll hence and leave him to 't."
"In fine," chuckled Absalom, lounging in the doorway, "do I intrude? For here's scene o' domestic bliss to touch the heart o' poor, lorn sailorman and take him all aback, or I'm a buttered parsnip!"
Antonia frowned and bent again to her labour, Adam put aside his books and turned to regard the speaker between narrowed eyelids. And when they had surveyed each other thus for a long moment, Absalom nodded and smiled, though a little grimly.
"Well," he demanded, "am I welcome? Ay or no."
"This depends," sighed Adam, his gaze still intent.
"Ay ay!" chuckled Absalom, though with gathering scowl. "You bear me no malice but prefer my room to my company. Yet here am I to ... humble myself for Friendship's sake. And how then, Adam?"
"Could you ever be truly humble, Absalom?"
"Don't I say so?"
"Very easily. Howbeit, come your ways."
"Am I welcome then, shipmate? We've been something strange to each other o' late and ... I've missed thee, Adam, thy sober airs and gravity o' speech that match your old man's hair. Am I indeed welcome?"
"I had not asked you else, Absalom."
"Why then, what saith our Tony?" Antonia neither looked at him nor spoke. "Nay," said he, still halting in the doorway, "be kind to thy poor, humble Absalom. How,—still dumb? Then prithee, sweet Master Antonia, sir, have I permission of thee to enter—and despite thine arms' sweet, round nakedness, or shall their white nudity prevent?"
Antonia flushed painfully, yet still neither turned nor spoke, while Adam began to pinch his chin in that nervous way of his,—seeing which, Antonia glanced apprehensively from him to where hung his rapier, and bit her lips and closed troubled eyes; then she laughed suddenly and turning on Absalom, said with her most swaggering air:
"Sink us and burn us, Captain, never heed these bare arms o' mine! Come in, man, and sit ye, tell us o' your masts and sails and riggings and have ye been flogging any other o' your men lately, damn their eyes and be cursed to 'em!"
Adam stared speechlessly, as did Absalom for a moment, then in he came, sat down, stretched out his long legs and clapping hand to brawny thigh, laughed right joyously while Antonia, folding her arms to hide trembling hands, watched him with a curious intentness that seemed to check his merriment, then seeing him about to speak, she nodded at him, saying:
"Yes, I liked you better in your grime and shackles!"
"Eh! Now damme, but did ye so, Tony?"
"Curse me if I didn't!" she mocked.
"Aha!" he chuckled. "And why so, my pretty lad?"
"You showed more natural in them than this new finery of clothes that suit you no whit."
Absalom's chuckling laugh was choked suddenly, his bronzed cheek flushed, he blinked.
"Well now," quoth he, "let me perish if I——"
"Yes!" said she, with another fierce nod, "you may perish, burn, sink, or become a buttered parsnip and the sooner the better!"
Absalom sank back in his seat and was dumb, his so ready tongue seemed paralyzed, he made futile gestures with his hands, he shook his head.
"So?" he exclaimed, at last. "'Twould almost seem I am not wanted! Ay, and a saucy, malapert, young ruffler to tell me so! 'S death, Adam,—see now what your plaguey sword lectures ha' done! Hast transformed timid-bleating ewe lamb into roaring lion, meek-eyed, whispering coyness into this fire and fury young Bobadil! Alas, alack! And yet—these pretty arms so smoothly white show not the hairy beefiness o' true fighting man; these lovely limbs were shaped for kinder uses,—ay, by Nature formed to cling, to clasp in Nature's way some happy man by Nature shaped to——"
"Nature?" she repeated. "Nature hath much to answer for, that having formed and shaped such things as toads and worms, she must shape also Captain Absalom Troy that is indeed such form, such shape——" Antonia shuddered, closed her eyes as against some horror, and turned away, while Absalom stared at her shapely back with starting eyes; and she, her face thus hidden, smiled to hear his arrogant assurance so utterly quelled that now he was actually stammering:
"Eh... shape ... what shape? How then, what ... what mean you ... what am I then?"
"No more than that I prove you."
"Well ... what d'ye prove me?"
"Of such sort that I will begone."
"How? Wilt run away, my hero? Wilt flourish and run? And wherefore, my handsome, my sweet, bold Antonia lad?"
"Lest I yield to temptation, Captain Troy, and dowse the hateful mockery of you with this water!"
"Do!" he nodded. "Ay, do and be—kissed, Tony!"
Antonia hesitated, then drying hands and arms slowly, she took up her coat and fronting Absalom, gazed down at him with such look as checked the words on his lip.
"If ever you do," said she, scarce above a whisper, "I so detest the touch, the mere sight of you, that I shall certainly kill you for the doggish wretch I prove you!" Then, with slow nod of her bright head, she turned and walked leisurely away.
CHAPTER XV
WHICH DESCRIBES A PASSAGE OF ARMS WITH A DIFFERENCE
Absalom sat staring towards the empty doorway and ruffling his curly head for some little while and never a word.
"Kill me, eh?" he muttered, at last. "Here's twice she's threatened me. 'Doggish wretch,' quo' she! Doggish, by Satan!" At the word he chuckled, though harshly, and made to rise and follow, but was checked by the voice of Adam, who had remained all this time staring down at the toe of his worn shoe.
"It is to be supposed you came here with some purpose?"