Princess Polly At Play Part 18
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He turned about, closed the door, and picking up the paper, seated himself once more before the fire, but he did not read, allowing the paper to lie idly on his knees.
"What is worrying you?" his wife asked gently, laying her hand upon his arm, and looking intently at him. "Is it anything new?"
"It's the same thing, dear, that has kept me fretting for the last three weeks," he said slowly.
"When the vessel was two weeks overdue I was more anxious than I cared to admit, but now that the third week is nearly gone, I find myself unable to keep my mind upon the paper that I try to read, or for that matter upon anything else."
"If any vessels intended coming in to-night, they would be obliged to get into some harbor where they would be safe until the sea is calm,"
said Mrs. Seaford, "and that would make them a few days later, so we'll still hope to see the one we're looking for come sailing in with flying colors."
Sprite, listening, while they thought that she was reading, now came around the table, and leaned against the Captain's st.u.r.dy shoulder.
"Pa, I wish you wouldn't worry, for some way I'm sure she's coming in all safe, I'll tell you why. Now don't you laugh. I dreamed last night that she came sailing in with flags flying, and oh, her hull and her masts were of s.h.i.+ning gold, so let's think that means good luck. Will you, Pa?" she coaxed, winding her little arms around his neck.
She could not bear to see him so worried.
"You're a comfort, little Sprite, and your Ma is another. Don't seem reasonable for a man to fret with two such blessings in his possession, but the truth is I wanted the luck that I believed the vessel would bring, for you two dear ones, far more than I wanted it for myself."
"Then don't say you _wanted_ it, for that does not sound hopeful,"
Mrs. Seaford said.
"No, say you _want_ it for us, for that sounds as if it were coming,"
Sprite said, "and I'm sure it will come, only it's delayed."
He summoned up a smile for the child who was endeavoring to cheer him.
"I surely can truthfully say, 'I want it for you'," he said.
"I have ventured all that I had on that s.h.i.+p's cargo, because I believed it was sure to bring back a little fortune that would enable me to give greater comfort to your mother, Sprite, and you."
"Well, it's coming! It's coming! I know it is. I saw the golden s.h.i.+p last night in my dreams, and I sprang up and looked from the window, and the moonlight was making a bright, glittering path on the waves, just where, in my dream, the s.h.i.+p had been."
She had left the Captain's side to skip and dance about in her excitement, but now she came softly back to lean against him, as he sat in his big chair.
She laid her cheek against his a second, then looking into his kindly eyes, she said:
"It is stormy to-night, and it may storm to-morrow, but when it clears, I know, oh, I just _know_ the s.h.i.+p will come in."
It was later than Sprite usually sat up, and the Captain pointed to the clock.
"It's late even for a cheerful little prophet to be up," he said, and Sprite danced away to her tiny chamber, happy in the thought that she had really cheered them. The next day the storm continued, but at night the gale diminished, and on the following day the sun rose bright, and golden, giving promise of a fine day.
Sprite ran out onto the beach.
She looked far out across the dancing waves, to the horizon, where plainly she could see the sails of incoming vessels.
Was either one of these distant vessels the one for which the Captain was so eagerly looking?
"They all look alike 'way off there!" she murmured, but a moment later she whispered in disgust:
"What a goosie I am! Those vessels have only one sail! They're neither of them s.h.i.+ps. Who'd think I was a Captain's daughter?"
Still she stood scanning the line where the sky and ocean met. At any moment a big s.h.i.+p might come in sight, and she thought how quickly she would run to tell the news. Then she hesitated.
No, she would not hasten to tell it, for it might indeed be a s.h.i.+p, and yet not the one for which the Captain had long been looking, or it might be one that was not bound for Cliffmore, but instead would go farther out to sea.
There was one sail on which the bright sunlight lingered, making it whiter than those of the other vessels, so that it was easier for her to watch that one than either of the others.
"Why! It has turned about!" she cried, "and now, oh now, I see other masts and other sails! It's a s.h.i.+p! It's a s.h.i.+p! Oh, is it the one that Pa longs to see?"
She would gladly have stood watching until that vessel sailed into Cliffmore, but a long, silvery note from the horn called her in to breakfast.
Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks pink with excitement, and the Captain looking across the table, sighed as he thought of all that he had planned to do with the money that he had so confidently expected.
He had built rosy air castles, had dreamed of comforts, and pleasures for the two dear ones who now sat opposite him at the table, the one full of hope, and cheer, the other trying to summon cheer that she did not feel, in order to comfort him. The forenoon pa.s.sed swiftly, because the three were busy.
Captain Seaford was making some repairs that the gale had made necessary. Indoors Mrs. Seaford had needed the help of little Sprite in some work that she was doing, and when the noon hour came they could hardly believe the clock.
Sprite, usually eager to be out of doors, kept close at her mother's side, pulling bastings from the garments that she was making.
Sometimes she paused to look from the window, then again she would busy herself with the bastings, and after a time, Mrs. Seaford, looking up, noticed with what rapt attention Sprite was gazing out at the ocean.
"What is it, Sprite?" she asked. "Are you thinking of the dream vessel that you told us about last evening?"
"I can't help thinking of it," Sprite answered, "and truly I do believe the dream meant good luck." "I'd not wish you to believe very strongly in dreams," Mrs. Seaford said, "but I'll confess that ever since you told us that dream, I've been thinking of it, and, in some way, it has given me hope."
The afternoon was spent much as the forenoon had been, save that the bastings were all out of the new garments, and while Mrs. Seaford still plied her needle, Sprite picked up the book of fairy tales, and tried to read.
There was one story that attracted her attention because its ill.u.s.tration showed a great s.h.i.+p, of ancient design. The name of the story was "The Gift s.h.i.+p," and Sprite began to read. Riches formed its cargo, jewels studded its masts, and its figure head, representing a mermaid, was of solid gold.
"Oh, that is grander than our s.h.i.+p was to be," thought Sprite, and she allowed the book to lie idly in her lap, while she looked out at the floating clouds, and wondered where the white-sailed s.h.i.+p had gone that, at early morning, had floated along that distant point where sky and water met.
The captain looked in at the open door, and for a moment seemed to be studying the two who sat near the window. Then he spoke.
"I'm going down to the wharf to see Jack Windom. He wants my opinion of a fis.h.i.+ng smack he's thinking of buying. I'll not be gone long."
He started off at a quick pace, but a few minutes later, Sprite saw, from her window, that the captain had met his friend when but halfway to the wharf.
"Oh, Ma, Jack has come up halfway to meet Pa. I guess he was coming up to see if Pa had forgotten about going down to look at the new fis.h.i.+ng smack.
"Why, Ma, they're shaking hands. They never do that. Why, they are both coming back!"
Mrs. Seaford knew that something more than usual had happened. She hurried to the door, just as the two men reached it, and then, the captain grasped both her hands, crying out in his excitement:
"It has come in, dear! It has come in! The vessel that I've been looking for, longing for, worrying for is in safe and sound, and the cargo, if my friend Jack isn't wild, is even more valuable than I had dreamed!
"Sprite! Sprite! Little girl, your dream has come true!"
What a day of rejoicing it was!
Princess Polly At Play Part 18
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Princess Polly At Play Part 18 summary
You're reading Princess Polly At Play Part 18. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Amy Brooks already has 632 views.
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