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The Croonah had groped her way up Channel through a snowstorm of three days' duration, and the brunt of it had fallen by right of seniority on the captain and his second officer. Luke FitzHenry was indefatigable, and, better still, he was without enthusiasm. Here was the steady, unflinching combativeness which alone can master the elements. Here was the true genius of the sea.
Robert FitzStephen, who plays, as will presently be seen, a prominent part in the conquest, was the son of her second husband, Stephen, the Castlelan of Abertivy, while Robert and Meiler FitzHenry, of whom we shall also hear, are said to have been the sons of no less a person than King Henry I. of England.
She doubtless had a good reason for the unusually formal inquiry, and she glanced at Luke to see that his brow had cleared. Then suddenly some instinct, coming she knew not whence, and leading to consequences affecting their three lives, made her introduce the two men. "Mr. Carr," she said, "Mr. FitzHenry. You may be able to get each other partners. Besides, you have an interest in common."
"You are eh? I didn't expect to see I didn't know " At that moment Eve saw. It came to her in a flash, as most things do come to women. She even had time to doubt the story about Luke. "This," she said, with crimson cheeks, "is Mr. FitzHenry of the Kittiwake. He kindly came to us in our trouble. You will have to thank him afterwards uncle."
But there had always been a fatality about Luke. And now, when it was quite apparent that Luke was a sailor and nothing else, the Navy would have none of him. Those who knew him his kindly old captain and others averred that, with a strict and unquestionable discipline, Luke FitzHenry could be made a first- class officer and a brilliant sailor.
"What did she say?" asked the passengers. "Nothing," replied the officers; "only the weather. It is the change of the monsoon." At dinner the captain was remarkably grave; he left the table early, having eaten little. The officers were reticent, as was their wont. Luke FitzHenry, it was remarked and remembered afterwards, alone appeared to be in good spirits.
The dream was assuming more tangible proportions. Mrs. Harrington began to see her way; already her inordinate love of power was at work. She could not admit even to herself that Luke FitzHenry had escaped her. Women never know when they have had enough. "How long are you to be in London?" she asked, with a sudden kindness. "Only a fortnight." "Well, you must often come and see me.
They did more, they defied death; for surely such love as this is stronger than the mere end of life. Again it was the possibility of something good and something strong that lurked hidden behind the worldliness of Agatha Ingham-Baker, and Luke FitzHenry, of all men, alone had the power of bringing that possibility to the surface.
But they saw none of these things. All the good men were wanted for the boats, and the captain, with two officers only and a few stewards, defended the gangway against the rush of the panic-stricken native crew. "FitzHenry! FitzHenry!" the old captain shouted. "For God's sake, come here!" For Luke alone was dreaded by the lascars. But Luke and Agatha heeded nothing.
But circumstances, over which I had no control, prevented my doing so. My offer of help is tardy, I know, but it is none the less sincere." "Thank you," replied Eve, conscious of a feeling of pleasant reliance in this new-found ally. "But I have good friends the Padre Fortis, my uncle, and a friend of ours, Mr. FitzHenry." "Of the Kittiwake at Mahon?" "Yes." "I have the pleasure of knowing Mr.
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