"You've only yourself to thank for it," she said. "I got used to
you as one thing--and here you are, under my eyes, turning out
another."
I could not resist saying "Fancy!" though she did not seem to
perceive any humour in my exclamation of it, and took it as a
matter of course. Besides, she had risen now, and bade me follow
her down the stairs.
It was really fine to see the men salute me as we walked down to
the boat, and the darkies' teeth shining at the sight of me (for
I'm a believer in the coloured sailor) and old Neilsen grinning
respectfully in the stern-sheets.
"Neilsen," I said, "tell this young lady my name!"
"Mr. ffrench, sir," he answered, considerably astonished at the
question.
"Little f or big F, Neilsen?"
"Little f, sir," said Neilsen.
"There, doubter!" I said to Verna.
She had her hand on my arm and was smiling down at the men from
the little stone pier on which we stood.
"Fyles," she said, "you must land and dine with us to-night, not
only because I want you to, but because you ought to meet my
father."
"About when?" I asked.
"Seven-thirty," she answered; and then, in a lower voice, so that
the men below might not hear: "Our fairy tale is coming true,
isn't it, Fyles?"
"Right to the end," I said.
"There were two ends," she said. "Mine and yours."
"Oh, mine," I said; "that is, if you'll live up to your part of
it!"
"What do you want me to do?" she asked.
"Throw over the Beast and be my Princess," I said, trying to talk
lightly, though my voice betrayed me.
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