The abode of Captain Amyas Layton overlooked the whole of Plymouth
Sound. It stood on the eastern side near its northern end, on the
wood-covered heights which rise above that magnificent estuary. From
the windows could be seen the town of Plymouth, with its inner harbour,
on which floated many a stout bark of varied rig and size; some engaged
in the coasting trade, others just arrived from foreign voyages, and
others destined to carry the flag of England to far-off lands. In front
of the house had been set up a tall flagstaff, which the captain was
wont on high days and holidays to deck with gay banners, or at other
times to employ in making signals to vessels in the Sound. The grounds
were surrounded by a moat with a drawbridge, above which was a gateway
adorned with curiously carved images once serving as the figure-heads of
two Spanish galleys. The house itself, constructed chiefly of a
framework of massive timber, filled in with stone or brick, had no
pretensions to architectural beauty, albeit its wide, projecting eaves,
its large chimneys, and latticed windows, with its neat, well-kept
garden full of gay flowers, gave it a picturesque and quaint appearance.
Above the low wall on the inner side of the moat, was planted a battery
of brass cannon, elaborately ornamented, and evidently also taken from
the Spaniards; though they were placed there as trophies of victories
won rather than for use. In truth, the old seaman's dwelling, full as
it was of many other warlike engines, had no pretensions to the
character of a fortress; it had been his fancy to gather within its
walls the spoils of many a hard-fought fight to remind him of days gone
by, especially when he had sailed out of Plymouth Sound in his stout
bark in company with the gallant Lord Howard, Drake, Frobisher, Hawkins,
and other brave seamen whose names are known to fame, to make fierce
onslaught on the vaunting Spaniards, as their proud Armada swept up the
Channel. The porch at the front entrance was adorned with Spanish
handiwork--a portion of the stern-gallery of the huge _Saint Nicholas_;
while at each corner of the building were fixed other parts of that
mighty galleon, or of some other ship of the many which had been, by
God's good providence, delivered into the hands of those whom the
haughty Spaniards came vainly threatening to enslave.
The house contained a good-sized dining-hall. At one end was a broad
fireplace, and mantelpiece supported by richly carved figures, also
taken from the stern-gallery of a Spanish bark. Above it appeared the
model of the _Golden Lion_, the captain's own ship. The walls were
adorned with breastplates and morions, swords and matchlocks, huge
pistols, with other weapons of curious form, and three banners captured
from the foe, regarded by the captain as the chiefest of his trophies.
Here, too, were also bows and arrows, spears and clubs, and various
implements, remembrances of the last voyage he had made to America.
The captain was walking to and fro in the shade. In his hand was a long
pipe with a huge bowl, from which he ever and anon sucked up a mouthful
of smoke, which, as he again puffed it out, rose in light wreaths above
his head. Sometimes, as he sent them forth slowly, now from one side of
his mouth, now from the other, as a ship fires her broadsides at her
foes, he would stop and gaze at the vanishing vapour, his thoughts
apparently wandering to distant times and regions far away, now taking a
glance down the Sound to watch for any tall ship which might be coming
up from the westward, now looking along the road.
His countenance, though that of a man still hale and hearty, showed
signs of many a hard fight with human foes and fierce storms, as far as
it could be distinguished amid the curling locks which hung down from
beneath the low-crowned hat adorned by a single feather, and the bushy
beard and long mustachios still but slightly grizzled. His doublet and
cloak were richly embroidered, though the gold lace was somewhat
tarnished; his breeches, fastened at the knee, were of ample
proportions, while boots of buskin form encased his feet. A man of war
from his youth, though enjoying his ease, he even now wore girded to his
side his trusty sword without which he was never known to stir outside
his door.
At length he stopped; as his eye glanced along the road leading from
Plymouth. "Marry, who can those be coming up the hill?" he said to
himself. "They seem to be making for this--a well-grown youth and a
youngster--by their habits and appearance they are I judge of gentle
birth." As he spoke, the captain advanced towards the gateway to give
the young strangers a welcome, should it be their purpose to pay him a
visit. The elder was of a tall and graceful figure, with delicate
features, a slight moustache appearing on his lip; his habit, that of a
gallant of the day, though modest and free from extravagance.
The younger was of a stronger build; his countenance exhibiting a bold
and daring spirit, full of life and animation, and not wanting in
good-humour.
"Whom seek you, young sirs?" asked the old seaman, as the youths drew
near.
"One Captain Amyas Layton, an please you, sir," answered the elder of
the two. "We were told in Plymouth town, where we arrived last night on
horseback from Dartmouth, that we should find his residence in this
direction; and if I mistake not, we stand even now before him."
"You are right in your conjectures, young sirs," answered Captain
Layton; "I am the man you seek, and whoever you are and whatever your
object, believing it to be an honest one, I give you greeting. Enter,
for after your walk this warm summer's day you need rest and
refreshment; the first you may take at once--the second you shall have
as soon as my daughter Cicely returns from Plymouth, whither she has
gone a-marketing, with our servant Barnaby, on our old nag Sampson,
which I called after a Spanish carvel I sank out yonder--but of that
anon. Come in."
The captain, without waiting to make further inquiries of the strangers,
led the way into the hall, where he bade them take their seats in two
carved oak chairs on either side of the fireplace--albeit the warmth of
the day permitted not a fire to be burning there. The young men,
removing their beavers, obeyed him.
"Though more substantial fare be wanting, I can serve you with a stoup
of Canary, young sirs; and your walk, judging by my own taste, will
render such acceptable," said the captain. Assuring him that they were
in no way fatigued, they declined the wine on the plea of the early
hour, and their not having been in the habit of drinking aught except a
glass of ale at dinner or supper.
"A prudent custom for those not advanced in life," he observed; "and
now, young sirs, to what cause am I indebted for this visit?"
"We have a long story to narrate, kind sir," answered the elder youth,
"and we would first, tell you our names, and whence we come; which, in
your hospitable kindness, you have not yet inquired. We are the sons of
your old shipmate Captain Vaughan Audley, who, it has been supposed for
the last ten years or more, perished among those who formed the first
settlement in Virginia, planted by the brave Sir Walter Raleigh. For
that long period our dear mother, notwithstanding the reports which
reached her, has never altogether abandoned the hope that he might be
alive; and though compelled to assume widow's weeds, she has remained
faithful to his memory and refused again to wed."
"A true wife and honest woman, such as I delight to honour," observed
the captain; "but alack! I received too certain news of my old
comrade's death to make me doubt that he had passed away to that better
land where we all hope to meet."
"Truly, our mother, notwithstanding her expressions to the contrary, had
begun to believe the same," answered the young man; "when about ten days
gone by, there came to the gate of our house near Dartmouth, where we
have lived since our father's departure, a seaman somewhat advanced in
life, whose pallid face spoke of sickness, and his tattered garments of
poverty long suffered. His name, he told us, was Richard Batten. He
had wandered, he said, over all parts of the known globe; but though his
pockets had been often filled with Spanish gold, they had again been
quickly emptied through his own folly, and the greed of pretended
friends; gambling, drinking, and other similar pursuits being his bane.
He now begged a crust and a draught of beer, or even of water, with
leave to lie down in an outhouse that he might rest his weary limbs. We
listened to his sad tale, and being sure that he spoke the truth,
invited him into the house and placed before him a hearty meal, to
which, however, he seemed scarcely able to do justice, so far gone was
he with sickness. Still the little he ate revived him, and he talked on
with my brother Gilbert here--a ready listener. At first he spoke only
of voyages made long ago, but at length he told him of one he had lately
performed across the Atlantic in a ship to obtain sassafras, and trade
with the natives of Virginia. The name immediately aroused Gilbert's
attention, who called me to listen to what the seaman was saying. He
had sailed in April from Milford Haven, on board the _Speedwell_,
Captain Martin Pring, a ship of about fifty tons, the year after our
present King James came to the throne, and in company with her went the
_Discoverer_, bark of the same size, commanded by Captain Brown. They
were victualled for eight months, and laden with all sorts of apparel,
gewgaws and baubles proper to trade with the inhabitants of the country
whither they were going. Arriving off the coast of Virginia in June,
they entered a great gulf, where they found people on both sides, with
whom they had much intercourse. Here they were engaged in loading their
bark with sassafras, much to their satisfaction.
"Batten, however, while searching for sassafras, having wandered away
from his companions, thinking to return, got yet farther from them, and
at length, overcome with fatigue, fell asleep. On awaking he found that
it was night. When daylight returned, clouds covered the sky, and,
still thinking to get back to the ship, he went on all day, but again
failed to see the great river in which she rode.
"Having his gun and ammunition, he was able to shoot some birds and
animals, and with the fruits he found growing on the trees he sustained
life. Thus for three days more he wandered up and down, till he at
length reached the river; when to his dismay, he could nowhere see the
ship. Having no doubt that she had sailed, he now set off along the
shore, hoping to overtake her in case she had brought up at any other
place. He was pushing on bravely, when he saw before him a large party
of Indians; to fight with them was useless--he held out his hand, which
the chief took, and showed by signs that he would be his friend. He
tried to inquire for the ship, but the Indians made him understand that
she had gone away and that it was best for him to remain with them. He
thought so likewise, and agreed to live with them, and to hunt and fish
as they did.
"After some time they set off up the country, where larger game was to
be found. Having husbanded his powder, as long as that lasted he was
able to shoot several deer; but when that was gone, and he could no
longer help the Indians, they treated him with less kindness than at
first. This made him resolve to try and escape; he had got some
distance from their camp, when he encountered another party of Indians,
of a different tribe to those with whom he had been living. They
carried him off a long way through the woods, till they reached their
camp, when he was taken before their chief. A council was held, as he
supposed, to decide whether he was to live or to be put to death. He
was fully expecting to die, when a person whom he had not before seen
appeared, and addressed him. On looking up at the stranger's face,
greatly to his surprise he saw that he was a white man. Batten inquired
whom he was.
"`A heart-broken exile--one who can feel for you,' was the answer; `but
fear not for your life--for that I will plead, as I have interest with
the chief, though for years I have been kept a prisoner without hope of
escape.'
"Who think you, Captain Layton, was the stranger who now spoke to
Batten? He was no other than our father, Captain Vaughan Audley, who
sailed with Sir Richard Grenville, Mr Dane, and Mr Cavendish on board
the _Roebuck_ with many other ships in company. When Sir Richard
returned to England, our father had remained with upwards of a hundred
men with Governor Dane at Roanoke, where they fixed their abode and
built a fort. The Indians, who had hitherto been friendly, formed,
however, a league against them. They were expecting assistance from
England, when one night the fort was stormed; most of the people were
put to the sword, but the life of our father was preserved by a chief
whom he had befriended when, on a former occasion, that chief had fallen
into the hands of the English. The chief, carrying him to his canoe,
concealed him from his companions and conveyed him far away up the
river. Here landing, he concealed him in his own wigwam, where he was
cured of his hurts; but our father had not from that time seen a white
face till he met with Batten.
"Batten's life, as our father promised, was saved; though the Indians
showed otherwise but little regard for him, and this made him wish to
escape should he have the opportunity. He told his purpose to our
father, and promised, should he succeed, to carry home the intelligence
to his friends of his being alive. Some time afterwards, Batten said,
he managed to escape from the Indians, when he made his way towards the
seashore. Lying hid in a thick bush for fear of being discovered by the
natives, he one day caught sight of a party of Englishmen advancing at
no great distance off. Delighted at the thoughts of meeting his
countrymen, he was about to rush out of his place of concealment, when
he saw a large body of Indians coming towards them. He waited to see
the result, when to his horror the Indians drew their bows, and before
the strangers were aware of their danger, every man among them was
pierced by an arrow. Some fell dead; others drew their swords; but with
terrific war-whoops the Indians, setting on them, killed the whole with
their tomahawks.
"Batten gave up all hopes of saving his life, but, wishing to put off
the fatal moment, he remained concealed till near nightfall, when the
Indians cutting off the scalps of the slain, went away inland, singing a
song of triumph. He now stole out of his hiding-place, and ran on all
night, intending to build a raft and make his way along the coast, when
just at day-break, as he reached the shore, great was his joy to
discover an English boat with two men in her. He rushed towards them,
and gave an account of the way he had seen the Englishmen murdered. No
sooner did they hear this than they shoved off from the shore and pulled
with all their might down the river. For several days they continued
toiling, till they reached their bark, the _Sally Rose_ which lay some
way down towards its mouth; but the master, on hearing that the pilot
and all the officers had been killed, forthwith weighed anchor, and,
setting sail, stood for England. The _Sally Rose_ sprang a leak, and
scarcely could she be kept afloat till, coming up Channel, they entered
the port of Dartmouth. Here landing, Batten was making his way without
a groat in his pocket to London, when Providence directed him to our
door.
"On hearing this strange narrative, I sent Gilbert to fetch our mother
and sister Lettice, who listened to it with breathless interest; and
getting such answers as we could from the seaman to the questions put to
him, we were all convinced that he had given us a faithful account, and
that our father was really alive. We now earnestly consulted with him
what to do; not forgetting to seek for guidance from on high as to the
best means for recovering our father. Gilbert was for setting out
forthwith, taking Batten as his companion, and getting on board the
first ship sailing for America; but even had our mother agreed to
Gilbert's proposal, it was impracticable, as the old sailor was becoming
worse and worse. We sent for the apothecary, and did all we could to
restore his waning strength; but all was in vain, and before the next
day was over he had breathed his last.
"We were now much troubled, for the means on which we had depended for
discovering our father had thus been lost. We had no one with whom to
consult; we talked and talked, but could come to no conclusion. `We
will pray to God for guidance,' said our mother, `we will now, my
children, go to rest; and to-morrow morning we will meet, with the hope
that light will be afforded us to direct our course.'
"Her first words the following morning when she entered the parlour
were: `Praise be to God--he has not left me any longer in doubt what to
do--I have bethought me of Captain Amyas Layton, who resides not far
from Plymouth. He and your father have often been shipmates, and he is
among the oldest of his friends, and will give you sound advice on the
subject. I would wish you to set out forthwith for Plymouth, and to
place the whole matter before him. Tell him that I will expend all my
means towards fitting out a ship to send to Virginia with trustworthy
persons to search for your father. It may be, though, for the love
Captain Layton bore him, that he will afford further means if necessary
for the purpose.'"
"That will I right gladly," exclaimed the captain, starting up, and
taking three or four paces between the chairs in which the young
brothers were sitting--first looking at one and then at the other; "you
two are Audleys--I recognise your father's features in both your
countenances. There are few men whose memory I hold in greater love or
esteem, and I will not say that to recover him I would hazard half my
fortune, for the whole of it I would gladly give to bring him back, and
old as I am, will sail forth myself in command of a ship to Virginia
should a younger man of sufficient experience be wanting. You, young
sir, I perceive by your dress and looks, have not been to sea; or you
would be the proper person to sail in search of the missing one."
"No, sir," answered Vaughan, "but I have been for some time a student at
Cambridge, where I have diligently studied mathematics, and being well
acquainted with the mode by which ships are navigated, although I am
ignorant of the duties of a seaman, I might, with the aid of a sailing
master, be able without difficulty to reach the country of which Batten
told us. Gilbert has already made two voyages to the Thames, and one as
far as the Firth of Forth, so that he is not altogether ignorant of sea
affairs, and lacks not willingness for the purpose."
"So I should judge," observed the captain, casting an approving look at
Gilbert; "I like your spirit, young man; and you may trust to me that I
will do all I can to forward your views. Had my son Roger been at home,
the matter might quickly have been arranged; but he has long been gone
on a voyage to the East Indies with Sir Edward Michaelbourn, on board
the _Tiger_, a stout ship, in which Captain John Davis sailed as pilot.
There went also a pinnace named the _Tiger's Whelp_. I would the good
ship were back again, for Roger is my only son, and his sister Cicely
begins to fret about him."
"Gladly would I serve under your son, should he before long return and
be willing to sail for Virginia," replied Vaughan.
"Would you be as willing to serve under me, young sir?" asked the
captain, glancing from under his shaggy eyebrows at Vaughan; "for
verily, should not Roger soon come back, I should be greatly inclined to
fit out a stout ship, and take Cicely on board and all my household
goods, and to settle down in the New World. Cicely has her brother's
spirit, and will be well pleased to engage in such a venture; as I will
promise her to leave directions for Roger to join us should he return
after we have sailed."
"I could desire nothing better, Captain Layton," answered the young man;
"our mother will indeed rejoice to hear that you have been so ready to
comply with her request. What you propose far surpasses her
expectations."
Captain Amyas Layton had been a man of action all his life, and age had
not quenched his ardour. While pacing up and down, his thoughts were
rapidly at work; every now and then he addressed his young guests,
evidently turning over in his mind the various plans which suggested
themselves.
"My old shipmate Captain George Weymouth is now in England," he said, "I
will write to learn his opinion. I have another friend, Captain
Bartholomew Gosnell. I know not if he has again sailed since his last
voyage to America; if not, I will find him out. He will, to a
certainty, have useful information to give us."
Thus the captain ran over the names of various brave commanders, who had
at different times visited the shores of North America. He counted much
also, he said, on Captain John Davis, who had sailed along those coasts;
though he had gained his chief renown in the northern seas, amid the
ice-mountains which float there throughout the year--his name having
been given to those straits through which he passed into that region of
cold. Vaughan and Gilbert had been listening attentively to all he
said, desiring to report the same to their mother and Lettice, when the
sound of a horse's hoofs were heard in the paved yard by the side of the
house.
"Here comes Cicely with Barnaby, and we shall ere long have dinner, for
which I doubt not, my young friends, you will be ready," observed the
captain.
Gilbert acknowledged that his appetite was becoming somewhat keen; but
Vaughan made no remark. He was of an age to watch with some interest
for the appearance of Mistress Cicely Layton, though of her existence he
had not heard till her father mentioned her.
He had not long to wait before a side-door opened, and a young damsel
with straw hat on head and riding-habit fitting closely to a graceful
form, entered the hall. She turned a surprised glance at the strangers,
and then gave an inquiring one at her father, who forthwith made known
their guests to her as the sons of an old friend; on which she put forth
her hand and frankly welcomed them. The colour of her cheek heightened
slightly as Vaughan, with the accustomed gallantry of the day, pressed
her hand to his lips, and especially as his eyes met hers with a glance
of admiration in them which her beauty had inspired. Truly, Cicely
Layton was a maiden formed in nature's most perfect mould--at least, so
thought Vaughan Audley. Gilbert also considered her a very sweet girl,
though not equal in all respects to his sister Lettice, who was fairer
and somewhat taller and more graceful; but then Gilbert always declared
that Lettice was perfection itself.
Having delivered certain messages she had brought from Plymouth for her
father, Cicely addressed a few remarks to the young gentlemen; then,
saying that she must go to prepare for serving up the dinner, which, as
it was near noon, ought soon to be on the table, she dropped a courtesy
and left the room. Each time the door opened, Vaughan turned his eyes
in that direction, expecting to see Mistress Cicely enter; but first
came a waiting-maid to spread a damask table-cloth of snowy whiteness,
and then came Barnaby Toplight with knives and forks; then Becky came
back with plates. "This must be she," thought Vaughan; but no--it was
Barnaby again with a huge covered dish, followed by Becky with other
viands.
At length the door again opened, and Mistress Cicely tripped in, her
riding-dress laid aside. She was habited in silken attire, her rich
tresses falling back from her fair brow, her neck surrounded by a lace
ruff of wondrous whiteness. The captain having said grace, desired his
guests to fall to on the viands placed before them; though Vaughan
seemed often to forget to eat, while conversing with Mistress Cicely;
Gilbert meantime finding ample subject for conversation with her father.
Dinner occupied no great length of time, though the captain insisted on
his friends sitting with him to share a bottle of Canary, which he
ordered Barnaby to bring from the cellar, that they might drink success
to their proposed voyage to Virginia. The young men then rose, offering
to return to Plymouth, but their host would on no account hear of it,
declaring that they must remain till he could see certain friends in
Plymouth with whom he desired to consult about their projected voyage.
They without hesitation accepted his proffered hospitality; possibly the
satisfaction the elder felt in Mistress Cicely's company might have
assisted in deciding him to remain, instead of returning home. Indeed,
he considered it would be better to wait, that he might carry some
certain information to his mother as to the progress made in the matter.
In the evening Mistress Cicely invited him to stroll forth into the
neighbouring woods, beneath whose shade the sea-breeze which rippled the
surface of the Sound might be fully enjoyed. Their conversation need
not be repeated; for Cicely talked much of her gallant brother, and was
sure that Master Audley would be well pleased to make his acquaintance
when he should return from the East Indies. "Though, alack! I know not
when that will be," she added, with a sigh.
The captain and Gilbert followed, talking on various interesting
subjects. The captain was highly pleased with Gilbert, who reminded him
greatly of his father.
"I knew him when he was no older than you are," observed the former. "A
right gallant youth he was. Already he had been in two or more battles,
and had made two voyages to the Spanish main. He married young, and I
thought would have given up the ocean; but, like many others, was
tempted to go forth in search of fortune, intending, I believe, that
your mother should follow when he had founded a home for her in the
Western World."
"I have heard my mother say, sir," said Gilbert, "that my father was but
twenty-five when he sailed for Virginia, leaving me an infant, and my
brother and sister still small children; so that even my brother has no
recollection of his appearance."
The captain had led Gilbert to a knoll, a favourite resort, whence he
could gaze over the Sound far away across its southern entrance. He
pulled out his pipe and tobacco-pouch from his capacious pocket, and
began, as was his wont, to smoke right lustily, giving utterance with
deliberation, at intervals, as becomes a man thus employed, to various
remarks touching the matter in hand. He soon found that Gilbert, young
as he was, possessed a fair amount of nautical knowledge, and was not
ignorant of the higher branch of navigation, which he had studied while
at home, with the assistance of his brother Vaughan.
"You will make a brave seaman, my lad, if Heaven wills that your life is
preserved," observed Captain Layton; "all you want is experience, and on
the ocean alone can you obtain that."
"Had it not been for the unwillingness of my mother to part with me, I
should have gone ere this on a long voyage," answered Gilbert. "It was
not without difficulty that she would consent to my making the short
trips of which I have told you; though now that I have a sacred duty to
perform, she will allow me to go. As we were unable to obtain the exact
position of the region where Batten met our father, we must expect to
encounter no small amount of difficulty and labour before we discover
him."
"We must search for the crew of the vessel in which Batten returned, for
they may be able to give us the information we require," observed the
captain; and he further explained how he proposed setting about making
the search.
While he had been speaking, Gilbert's eye had been turned towards the
south-west. "Look there, sir!" he exclaimed, suddenly; "I have been for
some time watching a ship running in for the Sound, and I lately caught
sight of a smaller one following her."
"I see them, my lad; they are standing boldly on, as if they well knew
the port," said the captain. "I fear lest my hopes may mock me, but
this is about the time I have been expecting my son, who sailed with
John Davis for India, to return, unless any unexpected accident should
have delayed them. Those two ships are, as far as I can judge at this
distance, the size of the _Tiger_ and the _Tiger's Whelp_."
Still the captain sat on, yet doubting whether he was right. The ships
rapidly approached, for the wind was fresh and fair. Now they came
gliding up the Sound, the larger leading some way ahead of the smaller.
The captain, as he watched them, gave expression to his hopes and
doubts.
"See! see! sir," exclaimed Gilbert, whose eyes were unusually sharp;
"there is a flag at the mainmast-head of the tall ship. On it I discern
the figure of a tiger, and if I mistake not, the smaller bears one of
the same description."
"Then there can be no doubt about the matter," exclaimed Captain Layton.
"We will at once return home. Go find your brother and my daughter;
tell them the news, and bid them forthwith join us."
While the captain walked on to the house, Gilbert went, as he was
directed, in search of Vaughan and Cicely. They, too, had been seated
on a bank some way further on, watching the ships, but neither had
suspected what they were. Indeed, so absorbed were they in their own
conversation, that they had not even observed Gilbert's approach.
Cicely started when she heard his voice, and on receiving the
intelligence he brought, rose quickly, and, accompanied by the brothers,
hastened homewards.
"The news seems almost too good to be true; but, alack!" she added, with
a sigh, as if the thought had just struck her, "suppose he is not on
board--what a blow will it be to my poor father! Roger is his only son;
and he has ever looked forward with pride to the thought of his becoming
a great navigator like Sir Francis Drake or Sir Thomas Cavendish."
Vaughan endeavoured to reassure her.
"My fears are foolish and wrong," said Cicely; "but if you knew how we
love him, and how worthy he is of our love, you would understand my
anxious fears as to his safety."
"I can understand them, and sympathise with you fully," said Vaughan.
His reply seemed to please her.
On reaching the house, they found that the captain had already gone down
to the beach, where his boat lay; and, his anxiety not allowing him to
wait for the young men, he had rowed off to the headmost ship, which had
now come to an anchor, the crew being busily engaged in furling sails.
Poor Cicely had thus a still longer time to wait till her anxiety was
relieved, or till she might learn the worst. She insisted on going down
to the beach, to which Vaughan and Gilbert accompanied her. At length
the captain's skiff was seen to leave the side of the ship. He had gone
by himself, but now they discovered, when the skiff got nearer the
shore, another person, who stood up and waved a handkerchief. Cicely
clasped her hands, then cried out with joy, "It is Roger! it is Roger!"
and presently, the boat reaching the shore, Roger leaped out, and his
sister was clasped in his arms.
Releasing herself, she introduced him to Vaughan and Gilbert, of whom he
had already heard from his father, as well as the object of their visit.
"And so, young sirs, you have work cut out for me, I understand, and
intend not to let the grass grow under my feet," he exclaimed, in a
hearty tone. "All I can say is that I am ready to follow my father's
wishes in the matter."
"I am truly thankful to you, sir," replied Vaughan, as he and Roger
shook hands; and looking in each other's faces, they both thought, "we
shall be friends." Vaughan admired Roger's bold and manly countenance,
possessing, as it did, a frank and amiable expression; his well-knit
frame showing him to be the possessor of great strength; while Roger
thought Vaughan a noble young fellow, of gentle breeding.
The young men having assisted in securing the skiff, the party returned
to the house, where Roger gave them a brief account of his voyage, for
the captain was eager to know how it had fared with him.
They had, however, matter of more pressing importance to talk about, and
before they retired to rest that night, their plans for the future had
been discussed, and some which were afterwards carried out had been
determined on.