The Money Moon: A Romance

by Jeffery Farnol

  CHAPTER XXI

  _Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax, and the third finger of the lefthand_

  So Bellew took up the paper. The house was very quiet, for Small Porgeswas deep in the vexatious rules of the Multiplication Table, andsomething he called "Jogafrey," Anthea was out, as usual, and MissPriscilla was busied with her numerous household duties. Thus thebrooding silence was unbroken save for the occasional murmur of a voice,the jingle of the housekeeping keys, and the quick, light tap, tap, ofMiss Priscilla's stick.

  Therefore, Bellew read the paper, and let it be understood that heregarded the daily news-sheet as the last resource of the utterly bored.

  Now presently, as he glanced over the paper with a negative interest hiseye was attracted by a long paragraph beginning:

  At St. George's, Hanover Square, by the Right Reverend the Bishopof----, Silvia Cecile Marchmont, to His Grace the Duke of Ryde,K.G., K.C.B.

  Below followed a full, true, and particular account of the ceremonywhich, it seemed, had been graced by Royalty. George Bellew read it halfway through, and--yawned,--positively, and actually, yawned, andthereafter, laughed.

  "And so, I have been in Arcadia--only three weeks! I have known Antheaonly twenty-one days! A ridiculously short time, as time goes,--in anyother place but Arcadia,--and yet sufficient to lay for ever,the--er--Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been. Lord! what apreposterous ass I was! Baxter was quite right,--utterly, and completelyright! Now, let us suppose that this paragraph had read: 'To-day, at St.George's, Hanover Square, Anthea Devine to--' No no,--confound it!" andBellew crumpled up the paper, and tossed it into a distant corner. "Iwonder what Baxter would think of me now,--good old faithful John. TheHaunting Spectre of the Might Have Been,--What a preposterous ass!--whata monumental idiot I was!"

  "Posterous ass, isn't a very pretty word, Uncle Porges,--or continentalidiot!" said a voice behind him, and turning, he beheld Small Porgessomewhat stained, and bespattered with ink, who shook a reprovinghead at him.

  "True, nephew," he answered, "but they are sometimes very apt, and inthis instance, particularly so."

  Small Porges drew near, and, seating himself upon the arm of Bellew'schair, looked at his adopted uncle, long, and steadfastly.

  "Uncle Porges," said he, at last, "you never tell stories, do you?--Imean--lies, you know."

  "Indeed, I hope not, Porges,--why do you ask?"

  "Well,--'cause my Auntie Anthea's 'fraid you do."

  "Is she--hum!--Why?"

  "When she came to 'tuck me up,' last night, she sat down on my bed, an'talked to me a long time. An' she sighed a lot, an' said she was 'fraidI didn't care for her any more,--which was awful' silly, you know."

  "Yes, of course!" nodded Bellew.

  "An' then she asked me why I was so fond of you, an' I said 'cause youwere my Uncle Porges that I found under a hedge. An' then she got moreangrier than ever, an' said she wished I'd left you under the hedge--"

  "Did she, my Porges?"

  "Yes; she said she wished she'd never seen you, an' she'd be awful' gladwhen you'd gone away. So I told her you weren't ever going away, an'that we were waiting for the Money Moon to come, an' bring us thefortune. An' then she shook her head, an' said 'Oh! my dear,--youmustn't believe anything he says to you about the moon, or anythingelse, 'cause he tells lies,'--an' she said 'lies' twice!"

  "Ah!--and--did she stamp her foot, Porges?"

  "Yes, I think she did; an' then she said there wasn't such a thing as aMoney Moon, an' she told me you were going away very soon, to getmarried, you know."

  "And what did you say?"

  "Oh! I told her that I was going too. An' then I thought she was goingto cry, an' she said 'Oh Georgy! I didn't think you'd leave me--even forhim.' So then I had to s'plain how we had arranged that she was going tomarry you so that we could all live happy ever after,--I mean, that itwas all settled, you know, an' that you were going to speak to her onthe first--opportunity. An' then she looked at me a long time an' askedme--was I sure you had said so. An' then she got awful' angry indeed,an' said 'How dare he! Oh, how dare he!' So a course, I told her you'ddare anything--even a dragon,--'cause you are so big, an' brave, youknow. So then she went an' stood at the window, an' she was so angry shecried,--an' I nearly cried too. But at last she kissed me 'Good night'an' said you were a man that never meant anything you said, an' that Imust never believe you any more, an' that you were going away to marry alady in London, an' that she was very glad, 'cause then we should all behappy again she s'posed. So she kissed me again, an' tucked me up, an'went away. But it was a long, long time before I could go to sleep,'cause I kept on thinking, an' thinking s'posing there really wasn't anyMoney Moon, after all! s'posing you were going to marry another lady inLondon!--You see, it would all be so--frightfully awful, wouldn't it?"

  "Terribly dreadfully awful, my Porges."

  "But you never _do_ tell lies,--do you, Uncle Porges?"

  "No!"

  "An'--there _is_ a Money Moon, isn't there?"

  "Why of course there is."

  "An' you _are_ going to marry my Auntie Anthea in the full o' the moon,aren't you?"

  "Yes, my Porges."

  "Why then--everything's all right again,--so let's go an' sit under thehay-stack, an' talk 'bout ships."

  "But why of ships?" enquired Bellew, rising.

  "'Cause I made up my mind, this morning, that I'd be a sailor when Igrow up,--a mariner, you know, like Peterday, only I'd prefer to haveboth my legs."

  "You'd find it more convenient, perhaps."

  "You know all 'bout oceans, an' waves, and billows, don't you UnclePorges?"

  "Well, I know a little."

  "An' are you ever sea-sick,--like a 'landlubber?'"

  "I used to be, but I got over it."

  "Was it a very big ship that you came over in?"

  "No,--not so very big, but she's about as fast as anything in her class,and a corking sea-boat."

  "What's her name?"

  "Her name?" repeated Bellew, "well, she was called the--er 'Silvia.'"

  "That's an awful' pretty name for a ship."

  "Hum!--so so,--but I have learned a prettier, and next time she puts outto sea we'll change her name, eh, my Porges?"

  "We?" cried Small Porges, looking up with eager eyes, "do you mean you'dtake me to sea with you,--an' my Auntie Anthea, of course?"

  "You don't suppose I'd leave either of you behind, if I could help it,do you? We'd all sail away together--wherever you wished."

  "Do you mean," said Small Porges, in a suddenly awed voice, "that itis--your ship,--your very own?"

  "Oh yes-"

  "But,--do you know, Uncle Porges, you don't look as though you had aship--for your very own, somehow."

  "Don't I?"

  "You see, a ship is such a very big thing for one man to have for hisvery own self. An' has it got masts, an' funnels, an' anchors?"

  "Lots of 'em."

  "Then, please, when will you take me an' Auntie Anthea sailing all overthe oceans?"

  "Just so soon as she is ready to come."

  "Then I think I'd like to go to Nova Zembla first,--I found it in myjogafrey to-day, an' it sounds nice an' far off, doesn't it?"

  "It does, Shipmate!" nodded Bellew.

  "Oh! that's fine!" exclaimed Small Porges rapturously, "you shall be thecaptain, an' I'll be the shipmate, an' we'll say Aye Aye, to eachother--like the real sailors do in books,--shall we?"

  "Aye, aye Shipmate!" nodded Bellew again.

  "Then please, Uncle Por--I mean Captain,--what shall we name ourship,--I mean the new name?"

  "Well, my Porges,--I mean, of course, shipmate,--I rather thought ofcalling her--Hallo!--why here's the Sergeant."

  Sure enough, there was Sergeant Appleby sitting under the shade of "KingArthur"--but who rose, and stood at attention as they came up.

  "Why Sergeant, how are you?" said Bellew, gripping the veteran's hand."You are half an hour before your usual time, to-day,--nothing wrong,I hope?"
/>
  "Nothing wrong, Mr. Bellew, sir--I thank you. No, nothing wrong, butthis--is a--memorable occasion, sir. May I trouble you to--step behindthe tree with me--for half a moment, sir?"

  Suiting the action to the word, the Sergeant led Bellew to the otherside of the tree, and there, screened from view of the house, he, with asudden, jerky movement, produced a very small leather case from hispocket, which he handed to Bellew.

  "Not good enough--for such a woman--I know, but the best I could afford,sir!" said the Sergeant appearing profoundly interested in the leavesoverhead, while Bellew opened the very small box.

  "Why--it's very handsome, Sergeant!" said Bellew, making the jewelssparkle in the sun,--"anyone might be proud of such a ring."

  "Why, it did look pretty tidy--in the shop, sir,--to me, and Peterday.My comrade has a sharp eye, and a sound judgment in most things,sir--and we took--a deal of trouble in selecting it. But now--when itcomes to--giving it to _Her_,--why it looks--uncommon small, andmean, sir."

  "A ruby, and two diamonds, and very fine stones, too, Sergeant!"

  "So I made so bold as to--come here sir," pursued the Sergeant stillinterested in the foliage above, "half an hour afore my usual time--toask you, sir--if you would so far oblige me--as to--hand it to her--whenI'm gone, sir."

  "Lord, no!" said Bellew, smiling and shaking his head, "not on yourlife, Sergeant! Why man it would lose half its value in her eyes if anyother than you gave it to her. No Sergeant, you must hand it to heryourself, and, what's more, you must slip it upon her finger."

  "Good Lord! sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "I could never do that!"

  "Oh yes you could!"

  "Not unless you--stood by me--a force in reserve, as it were, sir."

  "I'll do that willingly, Sergeant."

  "Then--p 'raps sir--you might happen to know--which finger?"

  "The third finger of the left hand, I believe Sergeant."

  "Here's Aunt Priscilla now," said Small Porges, at this juncture.

  "Lord!" exclaimed the Sergeant, "and sixteen minutes afore her usualtime!"

  Yes,--there was Miss Priscilla, her basket of sewing upon her arm, asgentle, as unruffled, as placid as usual. And yet it is probable thatshe divined something from their very attitudes, for there was a lightin her eyes, and her cheeks seemed more delicately pink than was theirwont. Thus, as she came toward them, under the ancient apple-trees,despite her stick, and her white hair, she looked even younger, and moregirlish than ever.

  At least, the Sergeant seemed to think so, for, as he met her look, hisface grew suddenly radiant, while a slow flush crept up under the tan ofhis cheek, and the solitary hand he held out to her, trembled a little,for all its size, and strength.

  "Miss Priscilla, mam--" he said, and stopped. "Miss Priscilla," he beganagain, and paused once more.

  "Why--Sergeant!" she exclaimed, though it was a very soft littleexclamation indeed,--for her hand still rested in his, and so she couldfeel the quiver of the strong fingers, "why--Sergeant!"

  "Miss Priscilla,--" said he, beginning all over again, but with nobetter success.

  "Goodness me!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, "I do believe he is going toforget to enquire about the peaches!"

  "Peaches!" repeated the Sergeant, "Yes, Priscilla."

  "And--why?"

  "'Cause he's brought you a ring," Small Porges broke in, "a veryhandsome ring, you know, Aunt Priscilla,--all diamonds an' jewels, an'he wants you to please let him put it on your finger--if youdon't mind."

  "And--here it is!" said the Sergeant, and gave it into her hand.

  Miss Priscilla stood very silent, and very still, looking down at theglittering gems, then, all at once, her eyes filled, and a slow wave ofcolour dyed her cheeks:

  "Oh Sergeant!" she said, very softly, "Oh Sergeant, I am only a poor,old woman--with a lame foot!"

  "And I am a poor, old soldier--with only one arm, Priscilla."

  "You are the strongest, and gentlest, and bravest soldier in all theworld, I think!" she answered.

  "And you, Priscilla, are the sweetest, and most beautiful _woman_ in theworld, I _know!_ And so--I've loved you all these years, and--neverdared to tell you so, because of my--one arm."

  "Why then," said Miss Priscilla, smiling up at him through her tears,"if you do--really--think that,--why,--it's this finger, Sergeant!"

  So the Sergeant, very clumsily, perhaps, because he had but the onehand, slipped the ring upon the finger in question. And Porges, Big, andSmall, turning to glance back, as they went upon their way saw that hestill held that small white hand pressed close to his lips.