Michael Penguyne Part 14

Nelly and her grandmother stood with the group of anxious watchers near the beacon-fire, straining their eyes in a vain endeavour to pierce the gloom which hung over the ocean. They could hear the sea's savage roar as it lashed the rocks at their feet and sent the spray flying over them; but they could only see the white crests of the waves as they rose and fell, and every instant it seemed to their loving hearts that these fierce waves came in with greater force than heretofore.

Could the "Rescue," stout and well-formed as she was, live amid that fierce tumult of waters? Might not those who had bravely gone forth to save their fellow-creatures, too probably perish with them?

Still, notwithstanding their fears, they listened hoping to hear the cry which those in the boat would raise as they drew near the sh.o.r.e, should success have attended their efforts. Again and again they asked each other, if the boat would not now be returning? Oh! how long the time seemed since they went away! A short half-hour had often sufficed to go to the Gull Rock and back. An hour or more had elapsed since the "Rescue" left the harbour, and no sign of her could be discerned.

"We must take into account the heavy seas she will have to meet; they will keep her busy for a goodish time with her bows towards them,"

observed an old fisherman. "Uncle Reuben knows what he is about, and if there is a man can steer the 'Rescue' on a night like this he can. A worse sea, in which a boat might live, I never saw. There is little likelihood of its getting better either, by the look of the sky."

The last remark was not encouraging; still, while a possibility remained of the return of the boat, none among the anxious group would, in spite of the rain and spray and fierce wind, leave the point.

At length a sharp-eyed youngster darted forward to the extreme end of the rock, at the risk of being washed off by the next breaker which dashed against it.

"I see her! I see her!" he shouted.

There was a rush forward. Dame Lanreath held her granddaughter back.

"You cannot bring them in sooner, Nelly," she said, "and, my child, prepare your heart for what G.o.d may have ordered. Seek for strength, Nelly, to be able to say, 'Thy will be done!'"

"I am trying," groaned Nelly; "but O granny, why do you say that?"

"It is better to be prepared for bad tidings before they come," answered the dame; "but it maybe that G.o.d has willed that Michael should be saved, and so let us be ready with a grateful heart to welcome him; but whichever way it is, remember that it is for the best."

The dame herself, notwithstanding what she said, felt her own heart depressed.

A simultaneous shout arose from the men and boys who had gone to the end of the point.

"The boat! the boat! It is her, no doubt about it," they cried out, and then most of them hurried away to the landing-place to welcome their friends and a.s.sist them on sh.o.r.e.

The dame and Nelly followed them. Some still remained at the point, knowing that there was yet another danger to be pa.s.sed at the very entrance of the harbour, for a cross sea breaking at its mouth might hurl the boat, in spite of the efforts of the rowers, against the rocks, and those who had toiled so long, worn out with fatigue, would require a.s.sistance, for, unaided, their lives might be lost.

As the boat drew near her crew raised a shout in return to the greeting, of their friends. Perfect silence followed as the "Rescue" neared the dangerous point. In an instant it was pa.s.sed, though a sea breaking over her deluged the crew.

"Are they all saved?" shouted several voices.

"Some, but not all; but our boys are here: tell my dame," shouted Reuben as the boat glided by.

Nelly heard the answer. With trembling knees she stood on the landing-place supported by Dame Lanreath, while the light of several lanterns fell on the boat and the figures of those in her as she came alongside.

Eager hands were ready to help the well-nigh exhausted crew on sh.o.r.e.

Nelly tried to distinguish the countenances of the men--the light falling on her pale face as she stooped over.

"He is here, Nelly; Michael is safe," cried Uncle Reuben, and Simon, with two or three others, speedily a.s.sisted Michael on sh.o.r.e.

Nelly, regardless of those around, threw her arms round his neck, and kissed his lips and cheeks, while the dame with others helped him to move away from the quay.

"I shall soon be strong again, Nelly," he whispered. "G.o.d be praised for His mercies to us. My sorest thought was, as I felt myself in the breakers, that you and granny would be left without me to help you."

At the moment that Nelly's arms were about her betrothed, a man in the boat, refusing the aid of others, sprang on sh.o.r.e. As he pa.s.sed, Dame Lanreath caught a glimpse of the haggard features of Eban Cowan. He rushed on without stopping to receive the greetings of any of those gathered on the quay, and was quickly lost to sight as he made his way up the glen.

"Eban seems in a strange mood," observed Simon. "He might have stopped till Michael and all of us had thanked him for his brave act; he seems as if he was sorry he had done it, or was wis.h.i.+ng that he was with the other poor fellows who are lying out there among the rocks."

Michael was too weak to walk. Uncle Reuben invited him to come to his cottage; but he wished to return home, and there was no lack of willing arms to carry him.

"Where is David Treloar?" he asked. "If it had not been for him I should have been washed off the spar, but he held me on till I was hauled on board."

"David! poor fellow! he is among those who are gone," was the answer.

"If it was he who was on the spar with you, he would not, it seems, quit it till he thought you were safe; and meantime his strength must have gone before help could reach him."

"Then he lost his life to save mine," said Michael, deeply grieved.

"And how was I saved?"

"By that brave fellow, Eban Cowan, who jumped overboard, and brought you on board," answered Uncle Reuben.

"Where is he, that I may shake him by the hand, and thank him?" inquired Michael; but Eban was not to be found.

Michael hoped the next morning to be able to go to the mill and thank Eban.

Nelly wondered at what she heard, recollecting Eban's visit to her a few hours before; but she said nothing. Indeed, by that time, with a sail, a litter had been rigged, on which his friends carried Michael to his cottage, Dame Lanreath and Nelly following them.

The rest of the population of the village hastened to their homes, several with hearts grieving for those who had been lost. They did not, however, find any lack of friends to comfort them--for all could sympathise where all knew that the like misfortune might some day happen to themselves. Uncle Reuben, too, had ample cause for grief. The little vessel on which he depended for the subsistence of his family had gone to pieces, and it would be a hard matter to obtain another. And honest David and the other lads in whom he was interested were gone; but his young boys were saved, and he felt thankful for the mercies granted him.

Michael, carefully watched over by Nelly, and doctored by the dame, soon recovered his strength. As soon as he was strong enough, he told Nelly that he must go and tell Eban how thankful he was to him for saving his life.

Nelly, on this, gave him an account of what had occurred on that eventful evening of the wreck. He was greatly astonished.

"But he is a brave fellow, Nelly; and though I cannot say what I should have been ready to do to him had I known it before, yet he saved my life, and risked his to do so, and I must not forget that. I must forget all else, and go and thank him heartily."

"Go, Michael," said Nelly, "and tell him that I bless him from my heart, and wish him every happiness; but do not ask him to come here. It is better for his sake he should not be seeing me and fancying that I can ever care for him."

Michael promised to behave discreetly in the matter, and set off.

The heavy gale was still blowing. He wondered as he went along how the path was so much steeper and rougher than it used to be, not aware how greatly his strength had decreased.

On reaching the mill he saw old Cowan standing at the door. He inquired for Eban.

"Where is he? That's more than I can tell you, lad," he answered. "He went away the other evening and has not since come back. I do not inquire after his movements, and so I suppose it is all right."

Michael then told the old man of the service his son had rendered him.

"Glad he saved thy life, lad; he is a brave fellow, no doubt of that; but it is strange that he should not have come in to have his clothes dried and get some rest."

None of the household could give any further account of Eban.

Michael, again expressing such thanks as his heart prompted, returned home.

Several days pa.s.sed and rumours came that Eban had been seen on the way to Falmouth: and his father, who had become anxious about him, setting off, discovered that he had gone on board a large s.h.i.+p which had put in there to seek shelter from the gale. He had left no message, and no letter was received by any of his family to say why he had gone, or what were his intentions for the future.