"But why?"
"Ah, captain, do you not know that you have the reputation of being a
naughty man? not very; but then, as I have told you, the mother is very
strict and puritanical in her ideas; the father is the same, and I should
only offend them without doing you any good; the girls would not dare, or
even so much as wish to look at or speak to you."
Growing red and angry, the captain stammered out something about being no
worse than ninetenths of the rest of the world.
"Very true, no doubt," she said; "and please understand that you are not
tabooed by me. I'm not so strict. But perhaps," she added laughing, "it
may be because I've no daughters to be endangered by young fellows who are
as handsome and fascinating as they are naughty." He bowed his
acknowledgments, then, as a noble looking young man was seen to approach
the group with the manner of one on a familiar footing inquired, "Who is
that fellow that seems so much at home with them?"
"His name is Leland; Lester Leland. He's a nephew of the Leland who bought
Fairview from the Fosters some years ago. He's an artist and poor--the
nephew--he had to work his own way in the world; has to yet for that
matter. I should wonder at the notice the Travillas take of him, only that
I've heard he's one of the good sort. Then besides you know he may make a
great reputation some day."
"A pious fortune-hunter, I presume," sneered Brice, rising to give his
seat to a lady; then with a bow he turned and walked away.
Mr. Dinsmore was taking his grandsons over the vessel, showing them the
engine and explaining its complicated machinery.
Edward, who had quite a mechanical turn, seemed to understand it nearly as
well as his grandfather, and Harold and Herbert, bright, intelligent boys
of ten and twelve, looked and examined with much interest, asking sensible
questions and listening attentively to the replies.
They were active, manly little fellows, not fool-hardy or inclined to
mischief; nor was their mother of the over-anxious kind; she could trust
them, and when the tour of inspection with their grandpa was finished,
they were allowed to roam about by themselves.
Captain Brice took advantage of this to make acquaintance with them, and
win their hearts by thrilling stories of buffalo hunts and encounters with
wolves, grizzly bears and Indians, in which he invariably figured as
conquering hero.
He thought to make them stepping stones to an acquaintance with their
sisters, and congratulated himself on his success when, on being summoned
to return to their mother, they asked eagerly if he would not tell them
more to-morrow.
"Just try me, my fine fellows," he answered, laughing.
"Mamma, what do you want with us?" they asked, running up to her. "A
gentleman was telling us such nice stories."
"I think the call to supper will come very soon," she said, "and I want
you to smooth your hair and wash your hands. Dinah will take you to your
state-room and see that you have what you need."
"I'm afraid we're going to have a gust," remarked Isadore as the lads
hurried away to do their mother's bidding; "see how the clouds are
gathering yonder in the northwest."
"A thunder-storm at sea; how romantic!" said Virginia; "'twill be
something to talk about all our lives."
"Silly child!" said her mother, "to hear you talk, one would think there
was no such thing as danger."
"Pshaw, mamma! we're hardly out of sight of land--our own shores," she
retorted.
"That would but increase our danger if the storm were coming from the
opposite direction," said her uncle; "but fortunately, it is from a
quarter to drive us out to sea."
"Do you think it will be a gust, grandpa?" asked Violet, a little
anxiously.
"I fear so; the heat has become so oppressive, the breeze has entirely
died down, and the clouds look threatening; but, my child, do not fear;
our Father, God, rules upon the sea as well as the land; the stormy wind
fulfilling his word."
The storm came up rapidly, bursting on them in its fury before they had
left the tea-table; the lightning's flash and the crash and roll of the
thunder followed in quick succession; the stentorian voices of the
officers of the vessel, shouting their orders to the crew, the heavy hasty
tramp of the men's feet, the whistling of the wind through the rigging,
the creaking of the cordage, the booming of the sea, mingling with the
terrific thunder claps and the down-pouring of the rain, combined in an
uproar fit to cause the stoutest heart to quake.
Faces grew pale with fear; the women and children huddled together in
frightened groups; the men looked anxiously at each other, and between the
thunder peals, spoke in low tones of the danger of being driven out to
sea, and asked each other of the captain's skill, on what part of the
coast they were, and whether the vessel were strong enough to outride the
tempest, should it continue long.
"Oh, this is dreadful! I'm afraid we shall all go to the bottom, if it
keeps on much longer," Mrs. Conly was saying to her niece, when there came
a crash as if the very sky were falling; as if it had come down upon them;
a shock that threw some from their seats, while others caught at the
furniture to save themselves; the vessel shivered from stem to stern,
seemed to stand still for an instant, then rushed on again.
"It struck! we're lost!" cried a number of voices, while many women and
children screamed, and some fainted.
"Courage, my friends!" cried Mr. Dinsmore in loud clear tones, that could
be distinctly heard by all, above the storm. "All is not lost that is in
danger; and the 'Lord's hand is not shortened that it cannot save; neither
his ear heavy that it cannot hear.'"
"Yes, it is time to pray," said an excited, answering voice; "the
lightning has struck and shivered the mast; and look how it has run along
over our heads and down yon mirror; as you may see by the melting of the
glass. It has doubtless continued on to the hold, and set fire to the
cotton stored there," the speaker--a thin, nervous looking man, who was
pushing his way through the throng--added in a whisper close to Mr.
Dinsmore's ear.
"Be quiet, will you!" said the latter sternly; "these helpless women and
children are sufficiently frightened already."
"Yes, yes and I don't want to scare 'em unnecessarily; but we'd better be
prepared for the worst."
Elsie had overheard the whispers and her cheek paled, a look of keen
distress coming into her face as she glanced from one to another of her
loved ones, dearer far than her own life.
But she showed no other sign of agitation; her heart sent up one swift cry
to him to whom "all power is given in heaven and in earth," and faith and
love triumphed over fear. His love to her was infinite nor was there any
limit to his power. She would trust him that all would be well whether in
life or death.
"'Even the wind and the sea obey him,'" she whispered to Violet, who was
asking with pale trembling lips, "Mamma, mamma, what will become of us?"
"But mamma they say the vessel is loaded with cotton, and that the
lightning has probably set it on fire."
"Still, my darling, he is able to take care of us; 'it is nothing with him
to help whether with many or with them that have no power;' he is the Lord
our God."
Her father had come to her side. "Daughter, my dear, dear daughter!" he
said with emotion, taking her in his arms as was his wont in her early
years.
"O grandpa, take care of mamma, whatever becomes of us!" exclaimed Elsie
and Vi together.
"No, no!" she said, "save my children and never mind me."
"Mamma, you must be our first care!" said Eddie hoarsely.
"Your sisters, my son, and your brothers. Leave me to the last," she
answered firmly.
"We will hope to save you all," Mr. Dinsmore said, trying to speak
cheerfully; "but, my child, if you perish, I perish with you."
"Horace, is it true? is it true that the vessel is on fire?" gasped Mrs.
Conly, clutching his arm and staring him in the face with eyes wild with
terror.
"Try to calm yourself, Louise," he said kindly. "We do not know certainly
yet, though there is reason to fear it may be so."
"Horrible!" she cried, wringing her hands. "I can't die! I've never made
any preparations for death. Oh save me, Horace, if you can! No, no save my
girls, my poor dear girls, and never mind me."
"Louise, my poor sister," he said, deeply moved, "we will not despair yet
of all being saved; but try to prepare for the worst, turn _now_ to him
who has said, Look unto me and be ye saved all ye ends of the earth."
Virginia had thrown herself upon a sofa, in strong hysterics, and Isadore
stood over her with smelling salts and fan.
Mrs. Conly hurried back to them with tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Oh what is to be done?" she sighed, taking the fan from Isa's hand. "If
Cal and Art were but here to look after us! Your uncle has his hands full
with his daughter and her children."
"Mamma let us ask God for help; he and he only can give it," whispered
Isadore.
"Yes, yes, ask him! you know how and he will hear you. Virgy, my child,
try to calm yourself."
Isa knelt by her sister's side; there were many on their knees crying for
succor in this hour of terrible danger.
The storm was abating, the rain had nearly ceased to fall, and the wind to
lash the waves into fury; the flashes of lightning were fewer and fainter
and the heavy claps of thunder had given place to distant mutterings; they
would not be wrecked by the fury of the tempest, yet alas, there still
remained the more fearful danger of devouring fire.
It was a night of terror; no one thought of retiring, and few but young
children closed an eye.
Every preparation was made for taking to the water at a moment's warning;
those who had life preservers--and all our party were supplied with
them--brought them out and secured them to their persons; boats were made
ready to launch, and those who retained sufficient presence of mind and
forethought, selected, and kept close at hand, such valuables as it seemed
possible they might be able to carry about them.
The Travillas kept together, Mr. Dinsmore with them, and young Leland
also.
He was to them only an ordinary friend, but one of them he would have died
to save, and almost he would have done it for the others for her sake.
Poor Molly had never felt her helplessness more than now; fastened to her
chair as with bands of steel, there was less hope of escape for her than
for others.
Her thoughts flew to Dick in that first moment of terror, to Dick who
loved her better than any other earthly thing. Alas, he was far away; but
there was One near, her Elder Brother, who would never leave nor forsake
her. With that thought she grew calm and strong to wait and to endure.
But her uncle did not forget her; with his own hands he fastened a life
preserver about her.
"My poor helpless child," he said low and tenderly, "do not fear that you
will be forgotten should there be any chance for rescue."
"Thank you, dear, kind uncle," she said with tears in her eyes, "but leave
me to the last, my life is worth so much less than theirs," glancing
toward her cousins; "there would be only Dick to mourn its loss----"
"No, no, Molly, we all love you!" he interrupted.
She smiled a little sadly, but went on, "and it would be more difficult to
save me than two others."
"Still, do not despair," he said, "I will not leave you to perish alone;
and I have hope that in the good providence of God, we shall all be
saved."
Gradually the screaming, sobbing, fainting, gave place to a dull
despairing waiting, waiting, with a trembling, sickening dread, for the
confirmation of their worst fears.
Rosie had fallen asleep upon a sofa with her head in her eldest sister's
lap, Vi on an ottoman beside them, tightly clasping a hand of each.
Elsie had her babe in her arms; he was sleeping sweetly, and laying her
head back, she closed her eyes while her thoughts flew to Ion, to the
husband and father who would perhaps learn to-morrow of the loss of all
his treasures.
Her heart bled for him, as she seemed to see him bowed down with
heart-breaking sorrow.
Then arose the question "what should the end bring to them--herself and
her beloved children?"
For herself she could say, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow
of death; I will fear no evil; for thou art with me." Elsie, Vi and Eddie
she had good reasons to hope were true Christians; but Harold and
Herbert?--A pang shot through her heart. Good, obedient children though
they were, she yet knew not that they had ever experienced that new birth
without which none can enter heaven.
Jesus said, "Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again,
he cannot see the kingdom of God."
"Mamma, what is it?" Eddie asked, seeing her glance anxiously from side to
side.
"Your brothers! I do not see them. Where are they?"
"They went into their state-room a moment since;--right here, you know.
Shall I call them?"
"Yes, yes; I must speak to them."
They came hand in hand, in answer to Eddie's summons.
Herbert's eyes were full of tears, not of terror or grief; there seemed a
new happy light in each boyish face.
"Mamma," whispered Harold, putting his arm round her neck, his lips to her
ear, "we went away to be alone, Herbie and I; we knew what made you look
so sorry at us;--because you were afraid we didn't love Jesus; but we do,
mamma, and we went away to give ourselves to him; and we mean to be his
always, whether we live or die."
Glad tears rolled down her cheeks as she silently embraced first one, then
the other.
And so slowly the night wore away, a reign of terror for hours, while
every moment they were watching with despairing hearts for the smell of
fire or the bursting out of flames from the hold; their fears gave way to
a faint hope as time passed on and the catastrophe was still delayed; a
hope that grew gradually stronger and brighter, till at last it was lost
in glad certainty.
The electricity, it appeared, had scattered over the iron of the
machinery, instead of running on down into the hold.