THE SHIP COMES IN
It had been a warm, sunny day, the little waves had danced gaily, and
the beach had been dazzling in the full glare of noonday, but the
afternoon had been cooler, and at twilight the wind had changed from
its warm quarter, to Northeast.
Snug and warm in the "Syren's Cave," they heard the wind rising until
it became an actual gale.
The Captain had built a fire of drift wood, the squatty lamp on the
table gave out a yellow glare, and around the table sat the three
members of the family, the cat occupying the tiny rug in front of the
fire. Puss purred contentedly, blinking when the sparks snapped and
twinkled.
Sprite bent over a fascinating book of fairy tales. The pictures were
charming, the stories held her captive.
Usually she enjoyed playing with puss in front of the fire, saving her
book for stormy days, but she had opened the book to look at the
softly tinted pictures, and the first story that held her attention
was the "Tale of the Gold Children," and she became so interested in
their travels in search of their fortunes and of each other, that she
could not put the book aside.
Her waving hair fell about her shoulders as she read, and the light
from the big lamp shimmered upon it.
Mrs. Seaford, busy with her sewing, paused at times to look at the
child absorbed in her book.
Captain Seaford, in a big arm chair, reading the "Cliffmore News,"
looked exceedingly comfortable, but his wife knew that while he held
the paper before him, he was merely glancing at the reading matter,
while his mind was elsewhere.
Often he put the paper down, laying it across his knees as if he were
done reading. For a few moments he would sit thus, then again he would
lift the paper as if he were endeavoring to keep his mind upon it, but
finding it a difficult task.
A heavy gust of wind made the windows rattle, and shook the door as if
clamoring for admittance. A second later, something was hurled against
the side of the house, as if the gale were using small pieces of
driftwood for missiles.
The Captain arose, dropped his paper in his chair, and strode to the
door.
He seemed to be trying to scan the horizon, as if looking for a sail,
but no object, far or near could possibly be distinguished in the
utter darkness that hung over land and sea.
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 sturdy 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 shining 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 ship'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 ship
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 ship 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 ship 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 ships. 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 ship 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 ship,
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 ship! It's a ship! 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 passed 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
illustration showed a great ship, of ancient design. The name of the
story was "The Gift Ship," 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 ship 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 ship 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 fishing 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 fishing
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!
"The dream came true! The dream came true! The golden ship has come
in!" cried Sprite, dancing about like a little wild thing, while Mrs.
Seaford laid her slender hands on the captain's shoulders, her eyes
filled with happy tears as she quietly said:
"For your sake, dear, I am so glad."
Jack Windom, hardy sailor, and bluff, kindly friend, was more moved
than he cared to admit. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes,
remarking that the sun was "tur'ble glarin'," but his friends knew
that he was fully in sympathy with them, and that his honest eyes had
filled with tears, as happy as their own, because of the good luck
that had come to them.
"I'm glad for ye, all three of ye, and I wish I could hev lent a hand
ter hurried her in, but she's here now, and I'm as glad as you be that
she's in safe an' sound. It's a great day fer ye, Cap'n, an' I'm glad,
I declare I am."
Captain Seaford again started for the wharf, this time to see not only
the new fishing smack, but the vessel that had brought such great
cheer to the little home, and with his arm locked in Jack Windom's he
hurried down the beach.
Mrs. Seaford and Sprite sat down to talk of their good fortune, and
after a time little Sprite said:
"I know I'm not to believe in signs or dreams, but truly I _did_ see
the new moon over my right shoulder, and I _did_ dream of a golden
ship."
"So you did, dear," Mrs. Seaford said, "and you cheered me wonderfully
last evening just by your telling of your lovely dream."
"That's why I told it," Sprite said.
"I thought while I was telling that, you'd not hear the gale, and by
to-day the storm would have cleared away, and maybe the ship would
come in, and it did."
For a few moments the two sat thinking, then Sprite spoke again of the
thoughts that filled her mind.
"Yesterday I tried to read a story in my fairy book, called 'The Gift
Ship,' but the ship's masts were studded with jewels, and its
figurehead was of pure gold, and some way it seemed too grand, too
fine, while Pa was longing for just a plain ship like the other ships
that we see every day. I knew it was its cargo that he was anxious
about, but the story seemed too good to be true, and I didn't care to
read it.
"Now, oh, now I can read it, and enjoy it, too, for no matter how
grand the story ship is, Pa has seen the one that he has been looking
for, and now we are happy."
"Indeed we are," Mrs. Seaford said; "we are thankful, too, Sprite.
Think how different would be our thoughts to-night if Jack Windom's
news had been that the vessel that your father had been looking for
had foundered!
"We are thankful indeed, we are grateful, Sprite. Oh, we are blessed
with the best news that could have been brought to us," said Mrs.
Seaford.
"I wish we could celebrate in some way when Pa comes back," Sprite
said.
"We shall have to be thinking of supper now. Suppose we go out
together to set the table, and you shall help me to make it
attractive.
"Come! We'll use our prettiest dishes, and we'll set the rose-pink
geranium in the center, and then we'll see what we can do toward
providing a treat."