"An' now," she said to her husband ere the youngsters departed, "I aint
agoin' to send my man to sea with empty pockets. Put _that_ in your
purse!"
But Watty would have none of the five guineas she tried to force on him.
"Well, I think none the worse of you for that," she cried. "Come, give
us a kiss, at anyrate." And with a shudder Watty Scott saluted his
bride.
Never did the grey waters of the English Channel look more cheerless
than they appeared to one unhappy midshipman of H.M.S. _Sirius_ next
morning, as the frigate beat down channel in the teeth of a strong
westerly breeze; never before had life seemed to him a thing purposeless
and void of hope. "To have and to hold from this day forward, for better
for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and
to cherish, till death us do part." The words rang in his ears still,
with a solemnity that even the red-nosed, snuffy, broken-down parson who
hiccuped through the service had not been able to kill. But, God! the
irony of the thing--the ghastly mockery! _To love and to cherish till
death us do part_! Verily, the iron entered into his soul; day and night
the hideous burden crushed him. The castles in the air that, boylike, he
had builded were crumbled into dust.
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