DRIFTING
Lulu was standing on the piazza, as the three other children approached
the Bells' cottage, Winifred pushing the go-cart this time, and Betty
holding a parasol over Jack's head. Instead of calling out a cheerful
greeting as usual, however, she ran hastily and silently down the steps,
and met them halfway across the lawn.
"We mustn't make any more noise than we can help," she said softly.
"Poor Aunt Daisy has a dreadful headache. It came on all of a sudden,
and she's gone to lie down. She says it may go away by and by if she can
get a nap. Her room is right over the piazza, so we mustn't disturb
her."
The children all expressed their sympathy and regret.
"Shall we go down on the beach and play?" Betty suggested.
Lulu looked doubtful.
"It's pretty hot down there," she objected, "and besides, we were there
all the morning. We might go for a drive, only Thomas is so fussy, he
never will harness the horses unless somebody grown up tells him to.
Jane's ironing, so she can't take us anywhere. I'll tell you what we
might do though"--with a sudden inspiration--"we might go down to the
river and play shipwreck. That old boat that's fastened to the dock is
just great to play shipwreck in. It's quite easy to get into it, even
Jack could manage it all right, and I'd bring one of the cushions off
the piazza to make him comfortable."
"Are you sure it's quite safe?" inquired cautious Betty, looking
doubtful.
"Oh, yes, it's all right. We were in it the day the Rossiters were here,
and papa saw us. It's fastened to the dock by a chain. Nothing could
possibly happen. Come along; it's lovely and cool down there by the
river, and if we stay here we shall be sure to forget and talk loud, and
that will disturb Aunt Daisy."
"Oughtn't we ask some one first?" Winifred suggested.
"There isn't any one to ask. Papa and mamma are in New York, and Aunt
Daisy's asleep. Jane wouldn't know, and she always makes a fuss about
things she doesn't understand. If it hadn't been all right, papa would
have said so when the Rossiters were here."
This seemed a practical argument, and although Betty still felt a little
uncomfortable about the wisdom of the proceeding, she made no further
objections, and five minutes later the little party were standing on the
dock. It was, as Lulu had said, very easy to step into the old rowboat,
which, indeed, looked safe enough even to Betty, being fastened to the
dock by a long chain. With a little help from the girls, Jack succeeded
in crawling over the side, and was made comfortable in the stern, while
the others settled themselves on the benches.
"Isn't it perfectly lovely here?" cried the little boy enthusiastically,
dabbling his hands in the cool water. "I was never in a boat like this
before."
"Of course it's lovely," said Lulu in a tone of unqualified
satisfaction; "I told you it would be. It's much nicer than on that hot
piazza, or on the beach either."
"There are mosquitoes," Winifred remarked, flapping vigorously about her
head with her handkerchief. "Mosquitoes always do bite me most
dreadfully."
"That's because you're so sweet," said Lulu. "Try not to think about
them, and then you won't mind. Aunt Daisy says if only people wouldn't
think about disagreeable things, they would be a great deal happier."
"Look, look; I can make the boat rock," cried the excited Jack.
"Oh, isn't it fun?"
"Now," said Lulu, as usual taking the initiative; "we are a party of
shipwrecked people, escaping in a lifeboat from a sinking ship. We are
away out in the middle of the ocean. All the other people in the ship
have been drowned, and we have escaped in the only boat there was. I am
a widow lady traveling with my little boy. You are my little boy, Jack,
and you are very ill. You must put your head in my lap, and keep your
eyes shut as if you were suffering a great deal. Winifred is our
faithful maid, who has been everywhere with us, and has divided her last
ship biscuit with us."
"And what am I?" inquired Betty, beginning to enter the spirit of the
new game. "Don't make the boat rock quite so hard, Jack, dear, please."
"You are the kind old sailor, who has saved us all. Some bad men on the
ship wanted to take this lifeboat, and leave us to drown, but you shot
them all down, and now you are taking us to an inhabited island you know
about. We have been three days without food, and without seeing a sail,
but I have promised that if you will bring us safely to land I will make
you very rich."
"Are you very rich yourself?" inquired Betty.
"Of course, I'm a very great lady. No, I think I will be a princess;
that will be nicer, and when people do brave things I make them my
knights."
"But there aren't any knights now," Winifred objected.
"Well, then, it isn't now; it's a long time ago, about the time of Queen
Elizabeth, I guess. Now come on, let's begin."
The next half-hour was one of the most delightfully exciting periods the
children had ever enjoyed. Lulu's vivid imagination carried them all
along with it, and even practical Betty forgot everything else in the
interest of the shipwreck. Jack played the suffering child to
perfection; moaned pitiously, and implored his mother in feeble whispers
for a crust of bread or a drop of water. The food was all gone, Lulu
said, but Winifred endeavored to procure the desired water by dipping
her hands in the river, and splashing salt water over Jack's face. Some
of it ran into his eyes, which was not pleasant, but Jack was too polite
to complain. Betty spoke words of encouragement and cheer, while she
scanned the horizon through an imaginary telescope. Lulu hung over her
suffering child, soothing his woes by the tenderest caresses and
promising innumerable purses filled with gold to Betty and Winifred, as
rewards for their faithful services, if ever they should reach the shore
alive.
"There's a dreadful storm coming up," announced Lulu, suddenly glancing
up at the cloudless blue sky, and beginning to wave her arms
frantically. "We shall be drowned, I know we shall. Make the boat rock
as much as you can, Betty, so it will seem as if the sea was getting
rough. Oh, what will become of us? Do you think we shall all perish,
sailor?"
"Can't say; hope not," said Betty, who had an idea that all sailors
spoke in short, jerky sentences.
"You'll save us if you possibly can, won't you?" said Winifred, who was
playing so hard that she was almost frightened.
"Will if I can," returned Betty in the deepest growl she could assume.
"Oh, Lulu, please let us see a sail pretty soon," urged Jack. "I'm
getting so tired of keeping my eyes shut, and it seems so dreadfully
real."
[Illustration: "There aren't any oars, and we're drifting."--_Page
159_.]
"Oh, yes, we shall see one before long," said Lulu reassuringly. "It'll
come just at the last awful moment; it always does in books."
At that moment a sudden burst of sunshine dazzled all their eyes.
"Why, how funny," exclaimed Betty, forgetting her nautical manner, and
speaking in her natural voice; "I wonder what makes it sunny all at
once. It was nice and shady a minute ago."
A shrill scream from Winifred brought Betty's wonder to an abrupt end.
"Look, oh look!" shrieked the little girl, pointing with a shaking
finger towards the shore; "the boat's moving, it's moving all by
itself."
Every one followed the direction of Winifred's terrified gaze. Sure
enough; several feet of water already separated the boat from the shore.
"The chain's broken," gasped Betty, growing very white. "It must have
broken when we made the boat rock so hard. There aren't any oars, and
we're drifting. Oh, what shall we do?"
Winifred began to cry.
"It's all your fault, Lulu," she wailed; "you said it was safe, and now
we shall be drowned, and what will mother do. Oh, oh, oh!"
Lulu was shaking from head to foot, but realizing the truth of her
friend's accusation, she made an effort to think of some way of escape.
"Couldn't we jump out and wade ashore?" she suggested desperately.
"Of course not," said Betty, with prompt decision; "we don't know how
deep the water is, and besides we couldn't leave Jack."
Poor little Jack lifted his white face from his sister's shoulder, where
he had hidden it in the first moment of terror. His eyes were big with
fright, and his lips trembled pitifully.
"Never mind about me," he faltered. "Maybe if you get ashore you can
send some one after me. I'm a boy, you know; I ought to be able to take
care of myself."
"You're the bravest boy I ever knew," sobbed impulsive Lulu, throwing
her arms around Jack's neck, "and we wouldn't leave you for the whole
world, would we, girls?"
"Of course we wouldn't," said Winifred emphatically. Betty said nothing,
but hugged her brother tight in wordless love and admiration.
"We sha'n't be drowned, any way, I know we sha'n't," said Lulu, her
courage beginning to rise. "There are so many boats on the river that
some one will be sure to see us pretty soon."
"There's a man over there fishing on that dock," cried Winifred
hopefully. "He isn't looking this way, but maybe if we shout very loud
he'll hear us."
The four little voices were accordingly raised, and shout succeeded
shout till the opposite bank sent back the echoes, but the fisherman
never turned his head. Perhaps he was deaf, or possibly he was
accustomed to hear children shouting in that way, merely for the sake of
amusement. Not another human being was in sight.
"He won't see us, oh, he won't look," moaned Winifred, once more
beginning to cry. "See how far away from the shore we are getting. Oh,
we shall be drowned, I know we shall."
Betty and Lulu had also noticed how fast the boat was drifting.
"The tide's going out," whispered Betty, with white lips. "Where does
this river go to, Lulu?"
"Into the ocean, I think," said Lulu, shivering. "It has to go round
Sandy Hook first, though," she added more hopefully, "and somebody will
be sure to see us before we get there."
"Are you very frightened, Jack, dear?" Betty whispered, nestling close
to her little brother.
"N--no, not so very," returned Jack tremulously; "only--only, if
anything does happen think how unhappy mother will be, and--and, I did
hope I should be able to walk just like other people."
This was too much for Betty, and she promptly burst into tears.
"Oh, we must do something, we must," cried Lulu, almost beside herself
with anxiety. "It's all my fault, I know, but I really did think it was
safe. I didn't mean to be naughty, I truly didn't, Winifred."
"I know you didn't," sobbed Winifred, hugging her friend in a burst of
remorse. "I didn't mean what I said, not a single word of it, only I was
so dreadfully frightened."
"Perhaps if we keep on shouting all the time, and waving our
handkerchiefs, some one will notice us," Betty suggested.
This seemed a good idea, and was promptly acted upon, but though they
shouted till their throats were sore, and waved till their arms ached,
no friendly face appeared, and faster and faster drifted the little boat
away from home and friends.
"I wonder what time it is," said Winifred, when they had at last left
off shouting, in order to gain a little breath. "It seems as if we had
been out on the river for hours and hours."
"We can't have been as long as that," said Betty, "because the sun is
just as bright as it was when we started. I guess the time seems longer
than it really is."
"I wonder where our mothers are now," remarked Lulu mournfully. "Mine
must be on the boat coming home from the city."
"And mine is driving with Mrs. Martin," said Winifred. "Oh, what will
they all do when they get home and we're not there." The picture called
up by this remark was too dreadful to be borne with fortitude, and all
four children simultaneously burst into tears.
Suddenly Jack's voice broke in upon the wails of the three little girls.
"Look, oh, look! there's a steamboat; it's coming this way."
Every eye was turned in the direction Jack pointed. Sure enough, a large
steam yacht was coming rapidly down the river, her head pointed straight
towards them.
"Wave, keep waving as hard as you can," cried Betty excitedly. "Let's
all shout together again, and perhaps they'll hear us."
"Wait till they get a little nearer, they couldn't hear us yet,"
advised Jack. "Oh, do you really think they'll save us?"
"Of course they will," said Lulu confidently. "Oh, look, look, they see
us already; there's a man waving back to us. Maybe they think we're only
doing it for fun. How shall we let them know we want them to help us?"
"We must shout," said Betty, and she set the example by raising her
voice to its highest pitch.
"Please, please help us! Our boat's drifting, and we haven't got any
oars. Oh, please, do come and help us!"
"They understand us!" cried Lulu joyfully. "See, the man's nodding his
head. Why, they're stopping! Oh, don't you believe they're going to help
us after all?"
For the next few moments the children waited in breathless suspense,
almost too excited to speak. Then Jack announced:
"They're getting into a rowboat. See those two men? That's the one that
nodded to us; I guess he's the captain. Let's shout again."
So again the four little voices were raised in agonized appeal, and this
time there came an answering shout from the other boat.
"Don't be frightened, children, you're all right. We're coming to you as
fast as we can."
The wind brought the cheery, encouraging words straight across the water
to the terrified children, and oh! the relief of that comforting
assurance to each wildly beating little heart. The men in the boat rowed
fast, and soon the splash of approaching oars was heard. Lulu and
Winifred began to cry again, but it was for joy this time, not sorrow.
Betty and Jack clung to each other in speechless relief. In a few
moments the two boats were side by side; a rope was thrown securely
around the oarless craft, and the children were safe.
"And now, my little friends, you must let us take you on board the
yacht," said the man whom Jack had concluded to be the captain.
He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a rather handsome face, and it
seemed to the children as though his cheery voice was the pleasantest
sound they had ever heard in their lives. He and his companion--who
appeared to be one of the sailors--began at once rowing back towards the
yacht, keeping the children's boat in tow. A sudden fit of shyness had
fallen upon the party, and nobody spoke until the stranger inquired,
regarding the solemn little faces rather quizzically:
"How did it happen?"
"We were playing in the boat," Betty explained. "It was fastened to the
dock, and we thought it was safe. The chain broke and we hadn't any
oars."
"Have you been drifting long? Were you very much frightened?"
"It seemed like a long time," said Betty, "and we were pretty
frightened. It was very kind of you to come and help us."
The gentleman smiled. He was a gentleman, the children all felt sure of
that, and Lulu afterwards remarked that he had the most beautiful smile
she had ever seen.
Nothing more was said until they reached the side of the yacht. Several
men, evidently members of the crew, were standing on the deck, watching
with interest the approach of the two boats.
"Now," said the gentleman, rising, "do you think you can manage to climb
this ladder? It's perfectly safe, and I will help you."
Lulu and Winifred rose promptly, but Betty remained seated, her arm
around her little brother.
"Don't be afraid," said the gentleman encouragingly; "it's quite easy."
"Oh, I'm not afraid," said Betty, her lip beginning to quiver, "but I
can't leave my brother. He can't climb. He has always been a cripple
until this summer, and he's only just beginning to walk now. We'll have
to stay here till we get to the landing."
While Betty was speaking the stranger's face had softened wonderfully,
and he looked at Jack with an expression of increased interest. Without
a word he stepped to the side of his own boat, and, leaning over, lifted
the little boy in his arms.
"Now I fancy we can manage it, my little man," he said kindly, and in
another moment he had lifted Jack up to one of the men on the yacht, who
in turn had placed the child in safety on the deck. The little girls
were then carefully helped up the ladder, and in less than three minutes
the whole party was standing, safe and dry, on the deck of what they
afterwards learned to be one of the finest steam yachts in the world.
"And now I shall have to take you all as far as the steamboat landing,"
said the stranger, as he placed Jack comfortably in a steamer chair. "It
will not take more than half an hour, and from there we can easily send
word to your friends. Where do you live, by the way?"
"We live at Navesink," said Lulu, suddenly recovering her speech and her
manners now that the danger was over, and remembering all at once that
she had always been considered a very polite little girl. "My papa has a
cottage there, and the others all came over to spend the afternoon with
me. It was my fault about the boat, but I thought it was safe. I think
we must have made it rock too much when we were playing shipwreck."
"Very possibly," said the gentleman, who looked considerably amused by
this explanation. "It is never a very wise plan to make boats rock too
much. But now let me see"--glancing at his watch--"it is only a little
after five, and we shall be at the landing by half-past. Do you think
your friends will be very much frightened about you?"
"I don't think so," said Lulu. "My mother has gone to the city for the
day; Winifred's mother is out driving, and Betty and Jack say their
mother told them they needn't come home before six. My papa has a
telephone, and we can let them know as soon as we get to the landing."
"Not at all a bad idea, and in the meantime won't you make yourselves at
home on board my yacht? By the way, I think shipwrecked people are apt
to be hungry."
"We are not very hungry, thank you," said Lulu politely; "you see, we
didn't start until half-past three."
The stranger smiled again, and said something in a low tone to the
steward, who immediately disappeared.
"We've none of us ever been on a yacht before," said Lulu, feeling that
it was her duty to keep up the conversation, as none of the others
seemed inclined to talk. "I think it's a very nice place."
"I have crossed the Atlantic in this yacht," the gentleman said
pleasantly.
"Have you really?" exclaimed Lulu, looking very much surprised. "I
didn't know people ever did that, except perhaps lords."
"And why lords in particular?" the stranger inquired, smiling.
"I don't know, only a lord is coming to stay with us, and papa says he
has crossed the ocean in his yacht."
"Indeed! and may I ask what your name is?"
"Lulu Bell. My father is Dr. Bell, and we live in New York in winter."
"Well, this is a coincidence, I declare," exclaimed the gentleman,
looking really quite excited. "I had no idea that one of the children in
that rowboat would prove to be the little daughter of my old friend.
Have you ever heard your father speak of Lord Carresford?"
"Why, yes," said Lulu, her eyes opening wide in astonishment; "he's the
lord that's coming to stay with us to-morrow."
"I am Lord Carresford," said the gentleman, laughing and holding out his
hand.
"Children," gasped Lulu, turning to her three companions, who had been
whispering together at a little distance from their rescuer and herself,
and who had not paid much attention to the conversation, "oh, children,
the very most wonderful thing has happened. This really is a lord's
yacht, and this gentleman is--'His Lordship.'"