"I think, perhaps, if you removed him from such temptations; if you kept him to your boat-letting business now, under your own eye, you know, Mr. Jones, don't you think that might tame him down a bit?"
"P'raps it might, miss, if he'd anyone to read and talk serious to him, but I don't know no one; and he's that quick and impatient-"
"You make me feel very much for your poor son, Mr. Jones. I shall come round in the morning, and if he's there then I should be pleased to talk to him on his duty to his parents."
"I've been a widderer these twenty year come Michaelmas, so there's only me to look after the lad. He's more fit to look after me now. There's one thing I likes about him. He don't drink."
I had one of my headaches next morning. I have not always the remedy for them at hand. On this occasion I had left it in London. I thought the air along the sea front might do me good. After breakfast I strolled along the Parade to the far corner where Mr. Jones-who, by the by, was not a Welshman but a native of Sussex-had his boat.
"Good morning, Mr. Jones. I see you are an advocate of cleanliness. Your Locket looks splendid, after the scrubbing you are giving her."
A fine, tall, young fellow, fair and freckled, with his short curly hair shading his broad forehead, wielded a mop which belabored the bottom and sides of the upturned skiff. His legs were bare to the knees. He stood like an old Northern Viking, a splendid specimen of the Anglo-Saxon race. The heavy bucket might have contained only waste paper from the manner in which he shifted it about, charged to the brim with sea water. He almost dropped it, however, as he turned and saw me. His mouth opened. He stood stupidly staring at me from behind his old father. I recognized the youth at once.
"Good mornin', miss. I don't know nothin' about no advocates, miss, but my son Bill is just a givin' her a rub round as we was a thinkin', the mornin' being so fine, I might see a young lady down for a row."
He had a twinkle in his eye which conveyed a silent hope that the liberal fee he had received the previous day might be repeated.
"So this is your son, is it, Mr. Jones? He must be of great service to you now you have got him."
"Oh, yes, miss-he's a main stronger nor me. You should see him capsize that there butt all alone by hisself. Why a rhinoceros couldn't do it!"
The old boatman was brimming over with pride-satisfaction at recovering his long-absent son betrayed itself in every feature.
"You must be very glad to see your father again."
"Yes, so I am, miss, and to find him so well and hearty. You see, miss, he's getting on now. It ain't as I'm so awful strong-it's that my old dad is a gettin' a bit shaky in his timbers, miss."
There was something charming in the kindly smile and the rough yet tender manner of the blunt young sailor towards the old man which made me look him over more attentively. He was certainly a superbly built young fellow. His bare arms and legs were furnished with a muscular development, which is rare in these days of effeminacy. A vigorous, healthy life upon the ocean had served to enhance all his natural advantages. He was a man to my mind. My headache increased-I wanted him badly to cure it.
Between them, they turned the boat over again. It was a good substantial skiff. I had been used to boating with Percy as a child. I knew something about rowing. I used to astonish the girls at the pensionnat near Paris when we all went in a formal party down the Seine from Suresnes. It suited me now to pretend ignorance.
"I hope you will stop with your dad, and-and be a good boy. He tells me you are too fond of… of pleasure."
My manner was demure. I flashed him one of my glances. He seemed struck. There is-they say-a Freemasonry in love. I say there is more. There is a magnetism in love which is conveyed from mind to mind-from brain to brain-from heart to heart, if you will- but there is a power, subtle and irresistible, which speaks more powerfully than words. "I love you, I want you." Such was the influence which flashed between us now.
"We sailors don't get too much pleasuring, miss-but I've been ten months at sea, shut up in an old box of a ship all the time, four hours out and four hours in-and that's about the size of it. My dad ain't the man to deny me a fair run ashore, now I'm home again. I know how to take care of the rhino all the same, but I mean to stay some time with him now and I shan't trouble about shipping again yet awhile."
There was a half-serious, half-comical air about the young fellow which showed he only partly believed in me. His keen blue eye followed me. He was noting me well from head to foot. He was distinctly struck with my appearance. Admiration was plainly, visibly written in his look. I read him like a book. I was a revelation to the young sailor. No doubt his appetite was sharp after ten long months at sea. I inwardly rejoiced. Meanwhile the boat was ready, the cushions in their places.
"If you've a mind for a row, miss, my son Bill will go with you and pull you about anywhere you likes."
I got into the boat. They launched her down. Bill swung himself in over the bow. He backed her out from the smooth beach. Then he sat himself down facing me and began to row steadily away from the shore.
"I really don't know if I ought to trust myself all alone with such a gay young man as your dad describes you, Mr. William, but after all, he does not give you a bad character, though he does say you are somewhat-somewhat-what shall I say?"
"Oh, I know, he's a larky old customer, is my dad, and he thinks I'm not much steadier than he was when he was a young 'un. Which course shall we steer, miss-go along the Pevensey shore, or keep on out of the Bay a bit?"
"Let us get into deep water and right away from the sound of the noisy people ashore. How fast you row!"
He was pulling as if for a wager. We were already half a mile away, heading straight out to sea. He slacked a little as I spoke. All this time his gaze never left my person or my face. He was trying to sum me up. Speculating, probably, as to what sort of bedfellow I should make. He was very good-looking certainly. As he bent forward to his paddles, his loose shirt disclosed his broad chest covered with a fine sandy down. I felt impatient as I sat on the broad seat with a back to it. I faced him all the time. I sat cross-legged, my right knee over the left. As Bill pulled away at the paddles, my leg was jerked backwards and forwards. I took care he should have a good view of my feet and my stockings as well. I soon fascinated him. The black silk seemed a new sensation. He commenced to row still more unevenly. My leg moved in cadence. He could see at times up to my knee as the light breeze assisted his design. He was evidently getting excited. A strong lascivious expression extended itself over his features.
"So you have been shut up ten months on board ship, Bill? That must have been trying to a fine young man like you?"
I could not beat about the bush. I wanted him. I meant to indulge my inclination-to have him. It was no time to waste in mere sentiment-in childish trifling.
"I guess it was, miss. Never saw a petticoat for over four months. We were not allowed ashore at Valparaiso, only in the daytime. It's a queer hole for British seamen, miss; nothing but rows and robbery."
"Poor fellow! But of course you have a sweetheart here?"
"Not I, miss. I only came home last night, or rather early this morning. I couldn't stop in London with the poor old dad here and he so old and feeble-like, so I jumped into the first train I could."
"You are a good fellow, Bill. I like you very much. What a long way we are from the shore now! I can't see the pier anymore."
"We're over two miles from Eastbourne now. See that light-ship there-that's the Royal Sovereign shoal."