Page:Richard Marsh--The joss, a reversion.djvu/286

274 The watch ’ll think you’re mad. Or that I’m threatening to murder you.” I had to lift her before she’d move. Then she seemed reluctant to stand upright in my august presence. I tried my best to disabuse her mind of some of her wild notions. “I’m a plain sailor man, I am. I’ve sailed the sea, boy and man, the best part of my life; east and west, north and south. And though I don’t mind owning I like a spell of dry land for a change, it would be strange if I hadn’t grown to love it. I’m ready to grumble at It with any man. I’m no more lord of the sea than you are. I’m just captain of this ship. That’s all.”

“You are the captain of this ship.”

“That’s it, Miss Batters.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Miss Batters. I am not Miss Batters. I am Susan.”

I had been looking away. When she said that I looked at her. I wished I hadn’t. There was something on her face—in her eyes—which set me all of a flutter. Something had come to me since I had entered those waters. I didn’t use to be easily upset. I couldn’t make it out at all. I couldn’t meet her glance, but looked down, smoothing the deck with the toe of my shoe, not recognising the sound of my own voice when I heard it

“I don’t know that I quite care for the name of Susan. I think I prefer—Susie.”

“Susie? What is that?”

“That—that’s the name your friends will call you.”

“My friends?” She gave another little gasp. “Susie?” To hear her say it! “But I have no friends.”

“You will have; heaps.”

“But I have none now. Not one.”

“Well”