True to a Type Volume I Part 3

"She is my daughter Margaret. I am Mrs Caleb Naylor."

"So happy to know you, Mrs Naylor," and forthwith the mothers conversed freely across Mrs Wilkie and over her head, on subjects in which it was impossible for her to join, though many were her abortive attempts to put in an oar. Even Mrs Naylor, whose chit-chat she had stifled with her taciturnity half an hour before, was now grown deaf and unresponsive to anything she could say.

CHAPTER IV.

THE PERILS OF SURF-BATHING.

When the day is young and the sky is blue, with just a flake or two of cloud low down on the horizon; when the sea, in purple slumber like a dreaming child, is brightened by the flickering glance and shadow on its rippling swell--and the surf, cresting itself in a wall of translucent green, leaps up and curls and topples over, crumbling in snow-white foam upon the sand; when the breeze, still gleeful with the memory of dew and starlit revels overnight, flits fresh and crisp beneath the early suns.h.i.+ne,--it is then that it is good to be a dweller by the sh.o.r.e: to spring from the unconsciousness of sleep into the luxury of sentient being, with softly fanning airs curling about the limbs, and wakening in them all their suppleness and strength.

Obeying the summons of the early gong, the young and vigorous of the guests of the hotel had hastened to the bathing-houses on the beach, and now came forth a gay and motley company. They were dressed in suits of red, blue, orange, green, and grey, with hats of straw or caps of oilskin, or only falling hair by way of head-dress. White ankles twinkled all along the sand, and the air was musical with laughter, as they scampered down and halted by the margin of the white sea-foam,--ladies and men distinguishable only by their hair or beard, or by less or greater bulk. They arranged themselves like a necklace of brightly coloured beads, where great and small alternated with each other. Each smaller figure was attended by one of the st.u.r.dy kind, as though they were about to dance. The surf along that coast breaks in such ma.s.sive billows, that the little and the weak can scarce bear up alone against the whelming rush, or keep their footing. They are liable to be thrown down by an advancing roller, turned over when it breaks, sucked outward in the reflux, and carried beyond their depth.

The party joined hands, and then stepped out into the foam, a string of forty beads, to bind the bosom of the next big wave, so green and smooth and gla.s.sy; but as it yet came on, so huge and impressive with its crest of foam, like the tossing manes of Pharaoh's chariot-horses, the line outstepping stopped and wavered and bent, as one panic-stricken near the centre suddenly bounded back, and left the wings of the line turned sidewise and irresolute, while the wave was sweeping up indifferent to the doubts and fears of mortals. It swept upon the wings all unprepared to meet it, lifting them from their feet and throwing them down, and dabbling them in the wreck of foam and sand.

"Oh, Lucy Naylor! that was not fair!--to spring back suddenly and leave us in the lurch!" rang out from several pairs of feminine lips.

"I will not bathe with you again, if you go on so." But the laughter of those who were amused at the disaster overbore the displeasure of the remonstrants; and it being Lucy's first morning, she was forgiven on promising to be more courageous.

The line formed up once more, and stepped out steadily to meet the next invader; and on he came, a smooth green hill, with the frothing and hissing water gathering on the summit like the gnas.h.i.+ng teeth of an advancing monster. The line stood still, with spreading feet, bent knee, and breath held in. The monster was upon them, and with a little cry from here and there along the line, smothered and drowned and overwhelmed in the hissing deluge as it heaved above them, and with a thunderous roar, it broke up upon the sh.o.r.e behind them, and then drew back again in hurrying, seething foam, and left the line still standing. And then there was a sob or two, and a cry, followed by laughter and little screams of delight The cool sea water had drenched their shrinking frames, the saltness p.r.i.c.kled exhilaratingly on the skin, and it was, as some one said, "just altogether too delightful."

Again the line was formed, and again. Even the timid ones had grown courageous. The least expert had learned to shoulder and resist the coming waves. The world was all coolness and freshness and sparkle, and each new wave was plunged into with a relish keener than the last, when came a new disturbance or alarm, more pressing and more vehement than even the onslaught of the billows upon the inexperienced. It sounded from the sh.o.r.e, a voice addressing them in accents shrill and clamorous. They ceased their sport and turned, and beheld a figure with flushed cheeks, no bonnet, her hair disordered, and her cap askew, with ribbons fluttering wildly in the breeze.

"Peter Wilkie!" it cried--"Peter Wilkie! Do ye not hear your mother crying to ye, fit to crack her voice? Let go that woman's hand, and come out ower this moment!--Peter! Do you hear me? Leave go, and come out ower. To think that I should live to see the proper up-bringing I have spared no pains to give ye, circ.u.mvented and brought to nothing by a set of shameless hempies like this!--and you just danderin' in the middle of them, like a fool goin' to the correction of the stocks!"

Mr Peter pa.s.sed through many phases of feeling while he was being addressed. First, he was ashamed for his mother's sake. He would fain have taken no notice, and plunged with his companions into the coming wave, in hopes that others would do the same, and every one's attention be withdrawn. Then he grew angry, and endeavoured to laugh off the intrusion as a quaint absurdity; but as the old lady's voice rose higher, and an audible t.i.tter ran along the line on either side of him, he realised that he must close the scene at once, on any terms. To outface the clamour was manifestly impossible, while to yield would at least bring the scolding to an end. With a shrug and a scowl, which he strove to hide behind a cough, and an acid smile, he stepped ash.o.r.e, took his mother's hand, all dripping as he was, and led her away behind the bathing-houses, where, let us hope, an understanding and a reconciliation were effected.

The interest of the bathers being thus disturbed, many began to feel chilly and to think they had had enough. Only the few who were good swimmers cared to remain, and these struck out beyond the ruin of breakers, to disport themselves above the placid depths beyond.

In the unbroken water outside, they could frolic at will, diving, floating, treading water, or swimming further seaward. Naylor, the uncle of his nieces, who have been mentioned, was one of the eagerest of all. A man no longer young, but with no sign of coming age save a thinning of the hair above his temples. Well nourished and prosperous of aspect, and five feet nine or so in height; broad-shouldered, muscular, and active, with cheery grey eyes, and a face burnt red by the sun. His spirits rose with the increasing coolness of the water, as he swam out and out; and from the sedate middle-aged person he had been on sh.o.r.e, he seemed changed into a hilarious youth among his new a.s.sociates, challenging those near him to strange feats and gambols, laughing and shouting like a schoolboy.

Suddenly, with a cry, he threw up his hands, and sank beneath the surface.

"Not a bad imitation of a drowning man; but I wish he would not do it out here, where the water is deep. It isn't half funny. It spoils one's stroke, and makes me feel heavy and weak," some one said.

"I am not sure that it was imitation," answered another--a lady this one. "He may have a cramp. Watch when he rises."

Presently his head emerged gasping from the depths, and Miss Hillyard, the lady who had spoken, swam to him, and was able to get her fingers into his hair, just as he was beginning to sink again, and lifted his head an inch or two for a moment, calling wildly on the others at the same time to come to her a.s.sistance.

"Strike out!" she cried to the drowning man, tugging his hair again, and feeling her own poise seriously endangered by the effort. "What is the matter with you?"

"Cramp," he gasped. "Help me on my back. Perhaps I may manage to float."

"Help! Mr Sefton, help!" screamed the lady; and Mr Sefton, who was hurrying forward, was able to get a hand under the sinking man's chin on the other side, before he had drawn his other would-be rescuer under.

"Hold on now, Miss Hillyard! Don't hurry. Be calm. Steady yourself.

Keep cool. We'll manage it. Trust to the water.... Good! He is up.

Have a care, now. He may clutch without meaning it. Keep clear of his arms.... Steady, friend. Can't you do something for yourself?"

"I can't. Help me on my back. I cannot strike out one bit. I can hardly straighten my leg. Ugh!... Never fear, madam, I won't lay hold on you. Can you help me on my back, do you think? Never mind if you can't do it. Let go if you feel yourself sinking. One is enough to go to the bottom."

With teeth tight set, he straightened out his limbs, and held them motionless; and by-and-by they succeeded in getting him on his back, and began to tow and steer him to the sh.o.r.e.

Fortunately the tide had not yet turned. It was rising still; so the water helped them on their long and tardy voyage.

It was an arduous and a tedious task, and but for the tranquil coolness of the man they were trying to save, it would have been beyond their power, as they had been a long way out when the accident occurred. As they approached the surf-line, however, their labour grew lighter, and presently the heaving swell caught hold of them and swung them forward with accelerating speed, as though the hungry ocean, balked of his intended prey, had grown eager to reject the victim he had failed to drown. Surging and swinging on the translucent tide, they were borne forward more and more swiftly, and were shot at last through the curling and overarching bank of surf into shallow water, where the crowd, which had been watching on the beach, ran in and dragged the exhausted trio ash.o.r.e.

"Uncle!" cried his nieces, laying hold on him, all dripping as he was, and bestowing hugs of congratulation. "You venturesome old man! How rash to go swimming out so far, this very first morning!"

"I should have been done for, if it had not been for this young lady.

I would wish to thank you, madam, if I could find words; but when it is one's life that has been saved, one does not know how properly to express it."

"Pray say nothing," said Miss Hillyard, looking calm and handsome even in her dripping bathing-dress, her arms so white and strong and shapely folded on her breast, and the long dark hair hanging like a mantle down her back. "Do not say a word. Any one who was able to swim must have done the same. I am glad that I was near at the moment, and able to be of use."

And then the bathers dispersed to get dried and dressed, leaving the beach to the waves and the sea-birds undisturbed.

Joseph Naylor was an object of interest for the remainder of that day to all Clam Beach, as the man who had been all but drowned; but Miss Hillyard was the heroine for the rest of the season. She had saved a life, and the circ.u.mstances grew more marvellous from day to day, as each narrator in turn strove to give thrill to the only tale of peril he had ever a.s.sisted at; till at length the young lady, growing bored with the wondering respect it brought her, and which was far from being the form of admiration in which she took pleasure, began to deny the incident altogether, and a.s.sure people that it had never taken place.

CHAPTER V.

ROSE AND LETTICE.

However indifferent or even nauseous applause become familiar may ultimately grow, it is intensely agreeable while it is yet new. Only with time and habitude does it begin, like other sweets, to pall upon the healthy appet.i.te. Miss Hillyard, on the day of her exploit, distinctly enjoyed the feeling that all eyes followed her, and that other conversation was hushed whenever she chose to speak. It was an ovation with which she was favoured on coming down to breakfast. Every one who knew her was waiting with congratulations to extol her pluck, and those who did not, were striving to be introduced.

Her friends felt an accession of importance in belonging to her; and Mrs Senator Deane of Indiana, under whose wing she was travelling, secured a carriage for a drive along the sh.o.r.e, so soon as breakfast was over, to keep the distinction of the heroine's intimacy secure in her own party.

Notoriety in a hotel, or anywhere else, grows cheap when the noted one is to be met upon the stairs and on doorsteps all day long, and can be accosted and questioned by every comer, while a morning of privacy could not fail to increase general interest in the whole party. The exploit was sure to be talked over without reserve in their absence, and on their return each member of the community would be affected with the general enthusiasm which his own contribution had done something to augment.

"Tell us all about it now, Rose, from the very beginning," cried Lettice Deane, catching both her hands, as soon as they had driven from the door. "I am dying to hear everything, now we are out of that inquisitive crowd--Yankees with their straight out questions, and Canucks with that wooden British way of theirs, staring without a wink and saying nothing, but drinking in everything with their eyes. Give me Western folks after all, say I. One knows what they are and how to deal with them from the first. These down-Easters, with their intelligence, and their conceit, and their determination to know all about it, make me feel like a potato-bug on the end of a pin, under a microscope. I like folks that are smart, but the cultured intelligence of Boston is just something too awful."

"But decent Canadians do not ask questions."

"I wish they would. They are always looking them--with eyes made round, ears erect, and mouth ajar. I'd like to shake some of them."

"Stuff! Lettie. I am Canadian, please remember."

"You are different. You have lived in Chicago; and that cures most things. But tell us now!--all about it. How did it begin?"

"Begin? Let me see. We were all out together in the deep water, having a social swim, and showing each other what we could do. Mr Sefton had just picked up a sh.e.l.l from the bottom--quite a pretty one, too, it seemed--and was swimming up to give it me, when we heard a cry; and when I turned round, I was just in time to see a hand disappearing under water. You can scarcely fancy the uncomfortable thrill it gave me. At once I remembered the octopus they say was cast ash.o.r.e last week at St John's, with arms a yard or two long, all covered with suckers, and I began to think of cold slimy things in the water, twisting about me and pulling me down. It took all my nerve, and the certainty that if I yielded to panic, I should sink, to compose me; when bobbing up to the surface came a head of hair, not five yards off. That calmed me. It gave me something to do."

"How brave you are, Rose! With me, now, the sight of a drowning man would have scared me out of my wits."

"You cannot swim, Lettie. That is why you think so."