A High Wind in Jamaica - Richard Hughes [63]
V
Captain Jonsen called suddenly to José to take the wheel, and went below for his telescope. Then, buttressing his hip against the rail, and extending the shade over the object-glass, he stared fixedly at something almost in the eye of the setting sun. Emily, in a gentle mood, wandered up to him, and stood, her side just touching him. Then she began lightly rubbing her cheek on his coat, as a cat does.
Jonsen lowered the glass and tried his naked eye, as if he had more trust in it. Then he explored with the glass once more.
What was that business-like-looking sail, tall and narrow as a pillar? He swept his eye round the rest of the horizon: it was empty: only that single threatening finger, pointing upwards.
Jonsen had chosen his course with care to avoid all the ordinary tracks of shipping at that time of year. Especially he had chosen it to avoid the routine-passages of the Jamaica Squadron from one British island to another. This--it had no business here: no more than he had himself.
Emily put her arm round his waist and gave it a slight hug.
"What is it?" she said. "Do let me look."
Jonsen said nothing, continuing to stare with concentration.
"_Do_ let me look!" said Emily. "I haven't ever looked through a telescope, ever!"
Jonsen abruptly snapped the glass to, and looked down at her. His usually expressionless features were stirred from their roots. He lifted one hand and gently began to stroke her hair.
"Do you love me?" he asked.
"Mm," assented Emily. Later she added, with a wriggle, "You're a darling."
"If it was to help me, would you do something.. . very difficult?"
"Yes, but _do_ let me have a look through your telescope, because I haven't, not ever, and I do so want to!"
Jonsen gave a weary sigh, and sat down on the cabintop. What _on Earth_ were children's heads made of, inside?
"Now listen," he said. "I want to talk to you seriously."
"Yes," said Emily, trying to hide her extreme discomfort. Her eye plaintively searched the deck for something to hold it. He pressed her against his knee in an attempt to win her attention.
"If bad, cruel men came and wanted to kill me and take you away, what would you do?"
"Oh, how horrid!" said Emily. "Will they?"
"Not if you help me."
It was unbearable. With a sudden leap she was astride his knees, her arms round his neck and her hands pressing the back of his head.
"I wonder if you make a good Cyclops?" she said; and holding his head firmly laid her nose to his nose, her forehead to his forehead, both staring into each other's eyes, an inch apart, till each saw the other's face grow narrow and two eyes converge to one large, misty eye in the middle.
"Lovely!" said Emily. "You're just right for one! Only now one of your eyes has got loose and is floating up above the other one!"
The sun touched the sea, and for thirty seconds every detail of the distant man-of-war was outlined in black against the flame. But, for the life of him, Jonsen could think of nothing but that house in quiet LUbeck, with the green porcelain stove.
9
THE DARKNESS CLOSED down with its sudden curtain on that minatory finger.
Captain Jonsen remained on deck all night, whether it was his watch or not. It was a hot night, even for those latitudes: and no moon. The suffused brilliance of the stars lit up everything close quite plainly, but showed nothing in the distance. The black masts towered up, clear against the jewelry, which seemed to swing slowly a little to one side, a little to the other, of their tapering points. The sails, the shadows in their curves all diffused away, seemed flat. The halyards and topping-lifts and braces showed here, were invisible there, with an arbitrariness which took from them all meaning as mechanism.
Looking forward with the glowing binnacle-light at one's back, the narrow milky deck sloped up to the foreshortened tilt of the bowsprit, which seemed to be trying to point at a single enlarged star just above the horizon.
The schooner moved just enough for the sea to divide with a slight rustle on her