The Strange Recollections of Martha Klemm: Absolute Evil & A Goth from Boston by Hawthorne Julian

Author:Hawthorne, Julian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cirsova Publishing
Published: 2022-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER V

POLLY AND THE PROPRIETIES

IWAS dissatisfied with the parting scene between Cabot and myself; it lacked what this generation would call (I believe) “punch”. I had neither convinced him nor annihilated him, only perplexed and mortified him, and he probably thought I was play-acting. What would he do?—settle down in Japan, like Lafcadio Hearn, and marry a native?—or return to Cambridge and resume his throne in the classroom?

No matter; he was out of my ken, and Polly and I had other matters in hand. We had ascertained (as Cabot would have said) that our boat didn’t sail for several days, and we had leisure, if we wished to run down to Santa Barbara and Los Angeles; the project had this to recommend it, that if by chance Cabot should learn of our departure, he would infer that we had gone to Mexico, according to my intimation. But all of a sudden Polly came in from one of her roamings, and communicated a new idea.

She had made the acquaintance, she said, of a young fellow down at the wharves, the mate of a sailing vessel which was due to clear for Honolulu that night. “A fine, upstanding man he is, too, miss!” He had told her, over a glass of beer, that there was room on the vessel for two passengers (one berth had already been secured by another party); that the Captain was an elderly man and a first-rate seaman; and that if we cared to come aboard before eight o’clock in the evening, we might reach Honolulu in advance of the regular steamer.

“He took me over the boat, miss,” said Polly, who was evidently interested in the adventure. “She’s a good one,—fine lines, a two-master, square-rigged forward, and fore-and-aft aft, and bright and clean as a bandbox! With the wind off the bow, she could make eight knots, Marlin told me,—Bob Marlin’s his name, miss. Two good bunks in our stateroom, and all the grub we want; give us good luck, we’d make port in three to four weeks; and a fine time of year for the trip— barring a hurricane, it might be. Be you sea-sick, miss?”

“Never, Polly! What sort of person was the other passenger?”

“An aged kind of a man, and seemed ailing like, Marlin said; but he ain’t noticed him much, he having bargained with the Captain. Nothing to bother us.”

“We’ll do it, Polly! It just suits me; and so far as I’m concerned, I’d as lief go around the world in just such a craft. We’ll go down and look her over!”

A very neat little vessel the “Aloua”—such was her name—turned out to be. Mr. Marlin justified Polly’s description; he was a handsome young giant, with bold features and a steady, courageous blue eye. He took us below and introduced us to the Captain, who was seated at a table in the cabin, with papers before him, which he was studying through a pair of silver-bowed spectacles. His black, straight hair and dark complexion made

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