"Oh, it's the young Squire's lass. She's a daughter of some big man away
down South. They're to be married come the spring o' the year."
Casely watched the graceful young lady over the crest of the next rise,
then turned homeward and sat down silent as usual. Now it happened that
the lady when she passed the gossiping fishers was going to meet young
Ellington. That gentleman had lately persuaded his grandfather to buy a
light boat for the better navigation of a heavy dull stream that ran
deep and silent round the southerly border of the home farm, and the
individual undutifully referred to as "the young Squire's lass" was
about to trust herself in the new craft with her lover. Ellington had
everything ready when the girl reached the stream. When she had stepped
aboard, he said--
"You called at Marchman's for Aunt Esther and Miss Marshall?"
"Yes! But they teased. They said they were having such an interesting
gossip with poor old Hannah, they would prefer following me. They
thought we might employ our time till they came up."
"It's just as well. I'm sure, if you don't mind, I don't. Which way
shall we go?"
"I cannot tell. The stream is so slack I could hardly guess where the
sea lay if I didn't know."
"Well, now, I'll tell you what I propose doing. We can slip over the bar
as the wind is just now. There's always a little rough water just where
the burn joins the sea, but when we get over that the sea outside is
quite smooth. Then we can sail, and save the bore of pulling."
So the confident young man pointed the boat's stem down stream, and
after a little jerky work on the bar stood clear out into blue water.
He was used to sailing, so that he really took his boat rather cleverly
round to the north-east. Then he made fast the sheet, since he wanted
one hand free; the boat lay prettily over till the water gurgled again
under her sharp bows, and Mr. Ellington felt the contentment and
exhilaration born of swift movement. But of course he must needs proceed
in this matter as in all others without thought of the future. The tide
was running fast out, and a surface current which always skirts the bay
set the boat ever more eastward. The rocks grew a little dim before
Ellington looked round and considered the situation. He felt quite easy
in his mind, however, and, stepping forward, let go the tiny halliard,
whereupon the sail came down.
"Now," he said, "we're just going to let her take her own way for an
hour."
This sailor-like resolution pleased his companion mightily, so the boat
was allowed to wheel lazily, and curtsey to the slight waves as they set
to the shore. Then the young people chatted softly, and forgot the time.
Now those who have watched the humours of autumn weather by the coast
will have noticed that very often after a warm breeze has been blowing
for hours, there will suddenly come a chill easterly waft. This will be
followed by a steady cold wind. The trees are blown white, the grass is
black with shadows, and the sea springs up like magic into a short nasty
"lipper." Within half-an-hour the lipper has gathered size, and in a
terribly short time there are ugly, medium-sized waves bowling fiercely
and regularly westward. The change mostly comes just about an hour after
the tide has turned. Ellington and his companion were talking on
heedlessly, when the girl, interrupting him in the middle of a speech,
said, shivering, "How cold it has turned!"
"Yes," returned Ellington, "it often comes like that. Do you see how
she's beginning to caper? So, there! Softly, softly!" he cried, as
though he were talking to a horse. A spirt of water had jerked over the
boat's side.
He ran up his sail, and as the little craft swung on her light heels,
and drew away to the west, he said, "I wish I hadn't got you into this
mess. But never mind, I don't think it's more than a wetting and a fuss
when we get home, at the worst of it."
Mr. Casely was sitting by his fire in the sanded kitchen. Excepting two
very old fellows, he was the only man left in the village that
afternoon, for all the other men and lads had gone north on the morning
tide. His noble face had got the beginnings of a few new lines since we
first saw him; his mouth was sorrowful, and his brows fell heavier than
ever.
A woman came in rather hurriedly, and said, "Thou'd better come out a
minute, honey. The sea's come on very coarse, and the young Squire's
boat's gettin' badly used out there, about a mile to the east'ard."
"Who's in her?"
"The young Squire and his lass."
"I'll be out directly. Has he ever made the landin' before?"
"Yes, but Tom's Harry was always with him."
When Casely stepped to the cliff edge, he saw that matters were a little
awkward. The boat was as yet in no very great danger, but the real pinch
would not come till Ellington tried to land. For two miles along the
coast there was not a single yard of shore where you dared beach a boat,
excepting just opposite the village. Here there was a broad gap through
the jagged reef which fringed the shore, and through this gap the
fishermen's boats had shot in fair or foul weather for more generations
than men could remember.