The Marrow of Tradition · Chapter 16 (2/2)

Ellis strolled down to the beach. A large iron plate, with a turned-up rim like a great baking-pan, supported by legs which held it off the ground, was set over a fire built upon the sand. This primitive oven was heaped with small oysters in the shell, taken from the neighboring sound, and hauled up to the hotel by a negro whose pony cart stood near by. A wet coffee-sack of burlaps was spread over the oysters, which, when steamed sufficiently, were opened by a colored man and served gratis to all who cared for them.

Ellis secured a couple of plates of oysters, which he brought to Mrs. Carteret and Clara; they were small, but finely flavored.

Meanwhile Delamere, who possessed a remarkable faculty of recuperation from the effects of drink, had waked from his sleep, and remembering his engagement, had exerted himself to overcome the ravages of the afternoon’s debauch. A dash of cold water braced him up somewhat. A bottle of seltzer and a big cup of strong coffee still further strengthened his nerves.

When Ellis returned to the veranda, after having taken away the plates, Delamere had joined the ladies and was explaining the cause of his absence.

He had been overcome by the heat, he said, while out fishing, and had been lying down ever since. Perhaps he ought to have sent for a doctor, but the fellows had looked after him. He hadn’t sent word to his friends because he hadn’t wished to spoil their evening.

“That was very considerate of you, Tom,” said Mrs. Carteret dryly, “but you ought to have let us know. We have been worrying about you very much. Clara has found the evening dreadfully dull.”

“Indeed, no, sister Olivia,” said the young lady cheerfully, “I’ve been having a lovely time. Mr. Ellis and I have been up in the parlor; I played the piano; and we’ve been eating oysters and having a most delightful time. Won’t you take me down there to the beach, Mr. Ellis? I want to see the fires. Come on.”

“Can’t I go?” asked Tom jealously.

“No, indeed, you mustn’t stir a foot! You must not overtax yourself so soon; it might do you serious injury. Stay here with sister Olivia.”

She took Ellis’s arm with exaggerated cordiality. Delamere glared after them angrily. Ellis did not stop to question her motives, but took the goods the gods provided. With no very great apparent effort, Miss Pemberton became quite friendly, and they strolled along the beach, in sight of the hotel, for nearly half an hour. As they were coming up she asked him abruptly⁠—

“Mr. Ellis, did you know Tom was in the hotel?”

Ellis was looking across the sound, at the lights of a distant steamer which was making her way toward the harbor.

“I wonder,” he said musingly, as though he had not heard her question, “if that is the Ocean Belle?”

“And was he really sick?” she demanded.

“She’s later than usual this trip,” continued Ellis, pursuing his thought. “She was due about five o’clock.”

Miss Pemberton, under cover of the darkness, smiled a fine smile, which foreboded ill for someone. When they joined the party on the piazza, the major had come up and was saying that it was time to go. He had been engaged in conversation, for most of the evening, with General Belmont and several other gentlemen.

“Here comes the general now. Let me see. There are five of us. The general has offered me a seat in his buggy, and Tom can go with you-all.”

The general came up and spoke to the ladies. Tom murmured his thanks; it would enable him to make up a part of the delightful evening he had missed.

When Mrs. Carteret had taken the rear seat, Clara promptly took the place beside her. Ellis and Delamere sat in front. When Delamere, who had offered to drive, took the reins, Ellis saw that his hands were shaking.

“Give me the lines,” he whispered. “Your nerves are unsteady and the road is not well lighted.”

Delamere prudently yielded the reins. He did not like Ellis’s tone, which seemed sneering rather than expressive of sympathy with one who had been suffering. He wondered if the beggar knew anything about his illness. Clara had been acting strangely. It would have been just like Ellis to have slandered him. The upstart had no business with Clara anyway. He would cheerfully have strangled Ellis, if he could have done so with safety to himself and no chance of discovery.

The drive homeward through the night was almost a silent journey. Mrs. Carteret was anxious about her baby. Clara did not speak, except now and then to Ellis with reference to some object in or near the road. Occasionally they passed a vehicle in the darkness, sometimes barely avoiding a collision. Far to the north the sky was lit up with the glow of a forest fire. The breeze from the Sound was deliciously cool. Soon the last tollgate was passed and the lights of the town appeared.

Ellis threw the lines to William, who was waiting, and hastened to help the ladies out.

“Good night, Mr. Ellis,” said Clara sweetly, as she gave Ellis her hand. “Thank you for a very pleasant evening. Come up and see us soon.”

She ran into the house without a word to Tom.