"Do you think she must haul down her flag?" Harry said to the coxswain

of the boat.

"Aye, aye, sir," the coxswain said. "Wood and iron can't stand such a

pounding as that much longer. Most captains would have hauled down the

flag long before this, and even our skipper can't stand out much

longer. There won't be a man alive to fight her."

"Will you do as I order?" Harry said.

"Aye, sir," the coxswain said in surprise, "I will do what you like;"

for the story of the conduct by which Harry had gained his

midshipman's promotion had been repeated through the ship, and the men

were all proud of the lad who had behaved so pluckily.

"At least," Harry said, "it may do good, and it can't do harm. Where's

the boat-hook? Fasten this tablecloth to it and pull for the fort."

The coxswain gave an exclamation of surprise, but did as Harry told

him, and with the white flag flying the boat pulled straight towards

the fort. As he was seen to do so the fire of the latter, which had

been directed towards the boat, ceased, although the duel between the

battery and the _Caesar_ continued with unabated vigor. Harry steered

direct to the steps on the sea face and mounted to the interior of the

fort, where, on saying that he brought a message from the captain, he

was at once conducted to the commandant.

"I am come, sir," Harry said, "from the captain to beg of you to

surrender at once. Your guns have been nobly fought, but two more

ships are coming down to engage with you, and the captain would fain

save further effusion of life. You have done all that brave men could

do, but the fight everywhere goes against you, and further resistance

is vain. In a quarter of an hour a fire will be centered upon your

guns that will mean annihilation, and the captain therefore begs you

to spare the brave men under your orders from further sacrifice."

Taken by surprise by this sudden demand, which was fortunately at the

moment backed up by two ships of the squadron which had hitherto taken

no part in the action being seen sailing in, the governor, after a

hasty consultation with his officers, resolved to surrender, and two

minutes afterwards the Danish flag was hauled down in the fort and the

white flag run up. One of the Danish officers was directed to return

with Harry to the ship to notify the captain of the surrender of the

fort.

The astonishment of Captain Ball at seeing the course of his boat

suddenly altered, a white flag hoisted, and the gig proceeding direct

to the fort, had been extreme, and he could only suppose that Harry

had received some orders direct from the admiral and that a general

cessation of hostilities was ordered. His surprise became astonishment

when he saw the Danish flag disappear and the white flag hoisted in

its place; and a shout of relief and exultation echoed from stem to

stern of the _Caesar_, for all had felt that the conflict was hopeless

and that in a few minutes the _Caesar_ must strike her flag. All sorts

of conjectures were rife as to the sudden and unexpected surrender of

the fort, and expectation was at its highest when the gig was seen

rowing out again with a Danish officer by the side of the midshipman.

On reaching the ship's side Harry ascended the ladder with the Danish

officer, and advancing to Captain Ball said:

"This officer, sir, has, in compliance with the summons which I took

to the commander of the fort in your name, come off to surrender."

The Danish officer advanced and handed his sword to the captain,

saying:

"In the name of the commander of the fort I surrender."

The captain handed him back his sword, and ordering Harry to follow

him at once entered his cabin. His astonishment was unbounded when the

latter informed him what he had done, with many apologies for having

taken the matter into his own hands.

"I saw," he said, "that the _Caesar_ was being knocked to pieces, and

the coxswain told me that it was impossible she could much longer

resist. I therefore thought that I could do no harm by calling upon

the governor to surrender, and that it was possible that I might

succeed, as you see that I have."

"You certainly have saved the _Caesar_," Captain Ball said warmly, "and

we are all indeed indebted to you. It was a piece of astounding

impudence indeed for a midshipman to convey a message with which his

captain had not charged him; but success in the present case a

thousand times condones the offense. You have indeed done well, young

sir, and I and the ship's company are vastly indebted to you. I will

report the matter to the admiral."

A hundred men speedily took their places in the boats. Lieutenant

Francis was sent ashore to take possession, and a few minutes later

the British flag was flying upon the fort.

Ordering Harry to accompany him, Captain Ball at once took his place

in his gig and rowed to the flagship. The battle was still raging, and

to the practiced eye there was no doubt that the English fleet was

suffering very severely. Captain Ball mounted the quarter-deck, and

saluting the admiral reported that the fort with which he was engaged

had struck, but that the _Caesar_ being aground was unable to render

any assistance to the general attack.

"A good many of us are aground, Ball," Admiral Nelson said, "but I

congratulate you on having caused the fort to haul down its colors.

Several of the Danish men-of-war have struck, but we cannot take

possession, and fresh boat-loads of men came off from shore, and their

fire has reopened. Our position is an unpleasant one. Sir Hyde Parker

has signaled to me to draw off, but so far I have paid no attention. I

fear that we shall have to haul off and leave some four or five ships

to the enemy."

"The fact is," Captain Ball said, "it wasn't I who made the fort haul

down its flag, but this midshipman of mine."

"Ha!" said the admiral, glancing at Harry, who, at Captain Ball's

order, had left the boat and was standing a short distance off. "How

on earth did he do that?"

"When you told him, sir, that you could give us no aid he took upon

himself, instead of returning to the ship, to row straight to the

fort with one of your tablecloths fastened to the boat-hook, and

summoned the commander in my name to surrender at once so as to save

all further effusion of life, seeing that more ships were bearing down

and that he had done all that a brave man could, and should now think

of the lives of his troops."

"An impudent little rascal!" the admiral exclaimed. "Midshipmen were

impudent enough in my days, but this boy beats everything. However,

his idea was an excellent one, and, by Jupiter! I will adopt it

myself. A man should never be above learning, and we are in such a

sore strait that one catches at a straw."

So saying, the admiral, calling to his own captain, entered his cabin,

and at once indited a letter to the King of Denmark begging him to

surrender in order to save the blood of his subjects, expressing

admiration at the way in which they had fought, and saying that they

had done all that was possible to save honor, and might now surrender

with a full consciousness of having done their duty. This missive was

at once dispatched to shore, and the admiral awaited with anxiety its

result.

A half-hour elapsed, the firing continuing with unabated fury.

"By Jove, Ball," the admiral suddenly exclaimed, "there's the white

flag!" and a tremendous cheer broke along the whole of the British

ships as the flag of truce waved over the principal fort of

Copenhagen. Instantly the fire on both sides ceased. Boats passed

between the shore and the flagship with the proposals for surrender

and conditions. Nelson insisted that the Danish fleet should be

surrendered, in so firm and decisive a tone as to convince the king

that he had it in his power completely to destroy the town, and had

only so far desisted from motives of humanity. At length, to the

intense relief of the admiral and his principal officers, who knew how

sore the strait was, and to the delight of the sailors, the

negotiations were completed, and the victory of Copenhagen won.

"Where's that boy?" the admiral asked.

"That boy" was unfortunately no longer on the quarter-deck. One of the

last shots fired from the Danish fleet had struck him above the knee,

carrying away his leg. He had at once been carried down to the

cockpit, and was attended to by the surgeons of the flagship. In the

excitement of an action men take but little heed of what is happening

around them, and the fall of the young midshipman was unnoticed by his

captain. Now, however, that the battle was over, Captain Ball looked

round for his midshipman, and was filled with sorrow upon hearing what

had happened. He hurried below to the wounded boy, whose leg had

already been amputated, above the point at which the ball had severed

it, by the surgeon.

"The white flag has been hoisted, my lad," he said, "and Copenhagen

has been captured, and to you more than to anyone is this great

victory due. I am sorry, indeed, that you should have been shot."

Harry smiled faintly.

"It is the fortune of war, sir. My career in the navy has not been a

long one. It is but a fortnight since I got my commission, and now I

am leaving it altogether."

"Leaving the navy, perhaps," the captain said cheerfully, "but not

leaving life, I hope. I trust there's a long one before you; but

Admiral Nelson will, I am sure, be as grieved as I am that the career

of a young officer, who promised to rise to the highest honors of his

profession and be a credit and glory to his country, has been cut

short."

A short time later the admiral himself came down and shook hands with

the boy, and thanked him for his services, and cheered him up by

telling him that he would take care that his presence of mind and

courage should be known.

For some days Harry lay between life and death, but by the time that

the ship sailed into Portsmouth harbor the doctors had considerable

hope that he would pull round. He was carried at once to the Naval

Hospital, and a few hours later Peter Langley was by his bedside. His

captain frequently came to see him, and upon one occasion came while

his foster-father was sitting by his bedside.

"Ah, Peter, is it you?" he said. "Your son told me that you had served

his majesty; but I didn't recognize the name as that of my old

boatswain on board the _Cleopatra_."

"I am glad to see your honor," Peter said; "but I wish it had been on

any other occasion. However, I think that the lad will not slip his

wind this time; but he's fretting that his career on blue water is at

an end."

"It is sad that it should be so," Captain Ball said; "but there are

many men who may live to a good age and will have done less for their

country than this lad in the short time he was at sea. First, he

prevented the dispatch, which would have warned the enemy of what was

coming, from reaching them; and, in the second place, his sharpness

and readiness saved no small portion of Admiral Nelson's fleet, and

converted what threatened to be a defeat into a victory. You must be

proud of your son, old salt."

"Has not the boy told you, sir, that he's not my son?" the boatswain

said.

"No, indeed!" Captain Ball exclaimed, surprised; "on the contrary, he

spoke of you as his father."

In a few words Peter Langley related the circumstances of the finding

of Harry when a baby. Captain Ball was silent for a while, and then

said, "Do you know, Peter, that I have been greatly struck by the

resemblance of that lad to an old friend and school-fellow of mine, a

Mr. Harper? They are as like as two peas--that is, he is exactly what

my friend was at his age. My friend never was married; but I remember

hearing a good many years ago--I should say some fifteen years ago,

which would be about in accordance with this lad's age--that he had

lost a sister at sea. The ship she was in was supposed to have

foundered, and was never heard of again. She was the wife of the

captain, and was taking her first voyage with him. Of course it may be

a mere coincidence; still the likeness is so strong that it would be

worth while making some inquiries. Have you anything by which the

child can be identified?"

"There are some trinkets, sir, of Indian workmanship for the most

part, and a locket. I will bring them over to your honor to-morrow if

you will let me."

"Do so," Captain Ball said; "I am going up to London to-morrow, and

shall see my friend. Don't speak to the boy about it, for it's a

thousand to one against its being more than a coincidence. Still I

hope sincerely for his sake that it may be so."

The next evening Captain Ball went up by coach to London, and the

following day called upon his friend, who was a rich retired

East-Indian director. He told the story as Peter had told it to him.

"The dates answer," he said; "and, curiously, although the ship was

lost in the West Indies, it's likely enough that the ornaments of my

poor sister would have been Indian, as I was in the habit of often

sending her home things from Calcutta."

"I have them with me," Captain Ball said, and produced the little

packet which Peter had given him.

The old gentleman glanced at the ornaments, and then, taking the

locket, pressed the spring. He gave a cry as he saw the portrait

within it, and exclaimed, "Yes, that's the likeness of my sister as

she was when I last saw her! What an extraordinary discovery! Where is

the lad of whom you have been speaking? for surely he is my nephew,

the son of my sister Mary and Jack Peters."

Captain Ball then related the story of Harry's doings from the time he

had known him, and the old gentleman was greatly moved at the tale of

bravery. The very next day he went down to Portsmouth with Captain

Ball, and Harry, to his astonishment, found himself claimed as nephew

by the friend of his captain.

When Harry was well enough to be moved he went up to London with his

uncle, and a fortnight later received an official letter directing him

to attend at the Board of Admiralty.

Donning his midshipman uniform he proceeded thither in his uncle's

carriage, and walked with crutches--for his wound was not as yet

sufficiently healed to allow him to wear an artificial leg--to the

board-room. Here were assembled the first lord and his colleagues.

Admiral Nelson was also present, and at once greeted him kindly.

A seat was placed for him, and the first lord then addressed him. "Mr.

Peters, Admiral Nelson has brought to our notice the clever stratagem

by which, on your own initiation and without instruction, you obtained

the surrender of the Danish fort, and saved the _Caesar_ at a time when

she was aground and altogether overmatched. Admiral Nelson has also

been good enough to say that it was the success which attended your

action which suggested to him the course that he took which brought

the battle to a happy termination. Thus we cannot but feel that the

victory which has been won is in no small degree due to you. Moreover,

we are mindful that it was your bravery and quickness which prevented

the news of the intended sailing of the fleet from reaching the

Continent, in which case the attack could not have been carried out.

Under such extraordinary and exceptional circumstances we feel that an

extraordinary and exceptional acknowledgment is due to you. We all

feel very deep regret that the loss of your leg will render you unfit

for active service at sea, and has deprived his majesty of the loss of

so meritorious and most promising a young officer. We are about,

therefore, to take a course altogether without precedent. You will be

continued on the full-pay list all your life, you will at once be

promoted to the rank of lieutenant, three years hence to that of

commander, and again in another three years to the rank of post

captain. The board are glad to hear from Captain Ball that you are in

good hands, and wish you every good fortune in life."

Harry was so overcome with pleasure that he could only stammer a word

or two of thanks, and the first lord, his colleagues, and Admiral

Nelson having warmly shaken hands with him, he was taken back to the

carriage, still in a state of bewilderment at the honor which had been

bestowed upon him.

There is little more to tell. Having no other relations his uncle

adopted him as his heir, and the only further connection that Harry

had with the sea was that when he was twenty-one he possessed the

fastest and best-equipped yacht which sailed out of an English port.

Later on he sat in Parliament, married, and to the end of his life

declared that, after all, the luckiest point in his career was the

cutting off of his leg by the last shot fired by the Danish batteries,

for that, had this not happened, he should never have known who he

was, would never have met the wife whom he dearly loved, and would

have passed his life as a miserable bachelor. Peter Langley, when not

at sea with Harry in his yacht, lived in a snug cottage at Southsea,

and had never reason to the end of his life to regret the time when he

sighted the floating box from the tops of the _Alert_.

SURLY JOE.

"You wonder why I am called Surly Joe, sir? No, as you say, I hope I

don't deserve the title now; but I did once, and a name like that

sticks to a man for life. Well, sir, the fish are not biting at

present, and I don't mind if I tell you how I got it."

The speaker was a boatman, a man some fifty years old, broad and

weather-beaten; he had but one arm. I had been spending a month's

well-earned holiday at Scarborough, and had been making the most of

it, sailing or fishing every day. Upon my first arrival I had gone out

with the one-armed boatman, and as he was a cheery companion, and his

boat, the _Grateful Mary_, was the best and fastest on the strand, I

had stuck to him throughout. The boatmen at our watering-places soon

learn when a visitor fixes upon a particular boat, and cease to

importune him with offers of a sail; consequently it became an

understood thing after a day or two that I was private property, and

as soon as I was seen making my way across the wet, soppy sand, which

is the one drawback to the pleasure of Scarborough, a shout would at

once be raised for Surly Joe. The name seemed a singularly

inappropriate one; but it was not until the very day before I was

returning to town that I made any remark on the subject. By this time

we had become great allies; for what with a bathe in the morning

early, a sail before lunch, and a fishing expedition afterwards, I had

almost lived on board the _Grateful Mary_. The day had been too clear

and bright for fishing; the curly-headed, barefooted boy who assisted

Joe had grown tired of watching us catch nothing, and had fallen

asleep in the bow of the boat; and the motion, as the boat rose and

fell gently on the swell, was so eminently provocative of sleep that I

had nodded once or twice as I sat with my eyes fixed on my line. Then

the happy idea had occurred to me to remark that I wondered why my

companion was called by a nickname which seemed so singularly

inappropriate. Joe's offer to tell me how he obtained it woke me at

once. I refilled my pipe,--an invariable custom, I observe, with

smokers when they are sitting down to listen to a story,--passed my

pouch to Joe, who followed my example; and when we had "lighted up"

Joe began:

"Well, sir, it's about twelve years ago. I was a strong, active chap

then--not that I aint strong now, for I can shove a boat over the

sandbar with any man on the shore--but I aint as active as I were. I

warn't called Surly Joe then, and I had my two arms like other men. My

nickname then was Curly; 'cause, you see, my hair won't lay straight

on my head, not when it gets as wet as seaweed. I owned my own boat,

and the boys that worked with me warn't strangers, like Dick there,

but they were my own flesh and blood. I was mighty proud of the two

boys: fine straight tough-built lads was they, and as good-plucked uns

as any on the shore. I had lost their mother ten years, maybe, before

that, and I never thought of giving them another. One of 'em was about

twelve, just the size of Dick there; the other was a year older. Full

of tricks and mischief they was, but good boys, sir, and could handle

the boat nigh as well as I could. There was one thing they couldn't

do, sir--they couldn't swim. I used to tell 'em they ought to learn;

but there, you see, I can't swim myself, and out of all the men and

boys on this shore I don't suppose one in twenty on 'em can swim. Rum,

aint it, sir? All their lives in the water or on the water, seeing all

these visitors as comes here either swimming or learning to swim, and

yet they won't try. They talks about instinks; I don't believe in

instinks, else everybody who's got to pass his life on the water would

learn to swim, instead of being just the boys as never does learn.

That year, sir, I was doing well. There was a gentleman and his wife

and darter used to use my boat regular; morning and afternoon they'd

go out for a sail whenever it warn't too rough for the boat to put

out. I don't think the old gentleman and lady cared so much for it;

but they was just wrapped up in the girl, who was a pale, quiet sort

o' girl, who had come down to the sea for her health. She was

wonderful fond of the sea, and a deal o' good it did her; she warn't

like the same creature after she had been here two months.

"It was a roughish sort of afternoon, with squalls from the east, but

not too rough to go out: they was to go out at four o'clock, and they

came down punctual; but the gentleman says, when he gets down:

"'We have just got a telegram, Joe, to say as a friend is coming down

by the five-o'clock train, and we must be at the station to meet her,

she being an invalid; but I don't want Mary to lose her sail, so will

trust her with you.'

"'You'll take great care of her, Joe, and bring her back safe,' the

mother says, half laughing like; but I could see she were a little

anxious about lettin' her go alone, which had never happened before.

"'I'll take care of her, ma'am,' I says; 'you may take your oath I'll

bring her back if I comes back myself.'

"'Good-by, mamma,' the girl says as she steps on the plank; 'don't you

fidget: you know you can trust Joe; and I'll be back at half-past six

to dinner.'

"Well, sir, as we pushed off I felt somehow responsible like, and

although I'd told the boys before that one reef would be enough, I

made 'em put in another before I hoisted the sail. There warn't many

boats out, for there was more sea on than most visitors care to face;

but once fairly outside we went along through it splendid. When we got

within a mile of Fley, I asks her if we should turn, or go on for a

bit farther.

"'We shall go back as quick as we've come, shan't we, Joe?'

"'Just about the same, miss; the wind's straight on the shore.'

"'We haven't been out twenty minutes,' she says, looking at her watch;

'I'd rather go a bit farther.'

"Well, sir, we ran till we were off the brig. The wind was freshening,

and the gusts coming down strong; it was backing round rather to the

north too, and the sea was getting up.

"'I a'most think, miss, we'd better run into Filey,' I says; 'and you

could go across by the coach.'

"'But there's no danger, is there, Joe?'

"'No, miss, there aint no danger; but we shall get a ducking before we

get back; there's rain in that squall to windward.'

"'Oh, I don't care a bit for rain, Joe; and the coach won't get in

till half-past seven, and mamma would be in a dreadful fright. Oh, I'd

so much rather go on!'

"I did not say no more, but I put her about, and in another few

minutes the squall was down upon us. The rain came against us as if it

wanted to knock holes in the boat, and the wind just howled again. A

sharper squall I don't know as ever I was put in. It was so black you

couldn't have seen two boats' length. I eased off the sheet, and put

the helm up; but something went wrong, and--I don't know rightly how

it was, sir. I've thought it over hundreds and hundreds of times, and

I can't reason it out in any sort of form. But the 'sponsibility of

that young gal weighed on me, I expect, and I must somehow ha' lost my

head--I don't know, I can't account for it; but there it was, and in

less time than it takes me to tell you we were all in the water.

Whatever I'd ha' been before, I was cool enough now. I threw one arm

round the gal, as I felt her going, and with the other I caught hold

of the side of the boat. We was under water for a moment, and then I

made shift to get hold of the rudder as she floated bottom upwards.

The boys had stuck to her too, but they couldn't get hold of the keel;

for you know how deep them boats are forward, drawing nigh a foot of

water there more than they does astern. However, after a bit, they

managed to get down to'rds the stern, and get a hand on the keel about

halfway along. They couldn't come no nigher, because, as you know, the

keel of them boats only runs halfway along. 'Hould on, lads!' I

shouted; 'hould on for your lives! They'll have seen us from the

cliff, and 'll have a lugger out here for us in no time.'

"I said so to cheer them up; but I knew in my heart that a lugger, to

get out with that wind on, would have to run right into t'other side

o' the bay before she could get room enough to weather the brig. The

girl hadn't spoken a word since the squall struck us, except that she

gave a little short cry as the boat went over; and when we came up she

got her hands on the rudder, and held on there as well as she could

with my help. The squall did not last five minutes; and when it

cleared off I could look round and judge of our chances. They weren't

good. There was a party of people on the cliff, and another on the

brig, who were making their way out as far as they could on the brig,

for it were about half-tide. They must have seen us go over as we went

into the squall, for as we lifted I could see over the brig, and there

was a man galloping on horseback along the sands to'rds Filey as hard

as he could go. We were, maybe, a quarter of a mile off the brig, and

I saw that we should drift down on it before a boat could beat out of

the bay and get round to us. The sea was breaking on it, as it always

does break if there's ever so little wind from the east, and the spray

was flying up fifty feet in places where the waves hit the face of the

rock. There aint a worse place on all the coast than this, running as

it do nigh a mile out from the head, and bare at low water. The waves

broke over the boat heavy, and I had as much as I could do to hold on

by one hand to the rudder, which swung backwards and forwards with

every wave. As to the boys, I knew they couldn't hold on if they

couldn't get onto the bottom of the boat; so I shouted to 'em to try

to climb up. But they couldn't do it, sir; they'd tried already, over

and over again. It would ha' been easy enough in calm water; but with

the boat rolling and such waves going over her, and knocking them back

again when they'd half got up, it was too much for 'em. If I'd ha'

been free I could have got 'em up by working round to the side

opposite 'em, and given them a hand to haul them up; but as it was,

with only one hand free, it took me all my time to hold on where I

was. The girl saw it too, for she turned her face round to me, and

spoke for the first time.

"'Let me go, please,' says she, 'and help your boys.'

"'I can't do it,' said I. 'I've got to hold you till we're both

drowned together.'

"I spoke short and hard, sir; for, if you'll believe me, I was

actually beginning to hate that gal. There was my own two boys

a-struggling for their lives, and I couldn't lend a hand to help 'em,

because I was hampered by that white-faced thing. She saw it in my

face, for she gave a sort of little cry, and said:

"'Oh, do--do let me go!'

"I didn't answer a word, but held on all the harder. Presently

Bill--he was my youngest boy--sang out:

"'Father, can't you get round and lend us a hand to get up? I can't

hold on much longer.'

"'I can't help you, Bill,' says I. 'I've given my promise to take this

young woman back, and I must keep my word. Her life's more precious to

her father than yours is to me, no doubt, and she's got to be saved.'

"It was cruel of me, sir, and altogether unjust, and I knew it was

when I said it, but I couldn't help it. I felt as if I had a devil in

me. I was just mad with sorrow and hopelessness, and yet each word

seemed to come as cold and hard from me as if it was frozen. For a

moment she didn't move, and then, all of a sudden like, she gave a

twist out of my arms and went straight down. I grabbed at her, and

just got hold of her cloak and pulled her up again. She never moved

after that, but just lay quiet on my arm as if she was dead. Her head

was back, half in, half out of the water; and it was only by the tears

that run down sometimes through her eyelids, and by a little sob in

her breast, that I knew that she was sensible.

"Presently Bill says, 'Good-by, father. God bless you!' and then he

let go his hold and went down. Five minutes afterwards, maybe, though

it seemed a week to me, Jack did the same.

"There we was--the girl and I--alone.

"I think now, sir, looking back upon it, as I was mad then. I felt

somehow as that the gal had drowned my two boys; and the devil kept

whispering to me to beat her white face in, and then to go with her to

the bottom. I should ha' done it too, but my promise kept me back. I

had sworn she should get safe to shore if I could, and it seemed to me

that included the promise that I would do my best for us both to get

there. I was getting weak now, and sometimes I seemed to wander, and

my thoughts got mixed up, and I talked to the boys as if they could

hear me. Once or twice my hold had slipped, and I had hard work enough

to get hold again. I was sensible enough to know as it couldn't last

much longer, and, talking as in my sleep, I had told the boys I would

be with 'em in a minute or two, when a sound of shouting quite close

roused me up sudden.

"Then I saw we had drifted close to the brig. Some men had climbed

along, taking hold hand-in-hand when they passed across places where

the sea was already breaking over, and bringing with them the rope

which, as I afterwards heard, the man on horseback had brought back

from Filey. It was a brave deed on their part, sir, for the tide was

rising fast. When they saw I lifted my head and could hear them they

shouted that they would throw me the rope, and that I must leave go of

the boat, which would have smashed us to pieces, as I knew, if she had

struck the rocks with us. Where they were standing the rock was full

six feet above the sea; but a little farther it shelved down, and each

wave ran three feet deep across the brig. They asked me could I swim;

and when I shook my head, for I was too far gone to speak now, one of

'em jumped in with the end of the rope. He twisted it round the two of

us, and shouted to his friends to pull. It was time, for we weren't

much above a boat's length from the brig. Three of the chaps as had

the rope run down to the low part of the rock and pulled together,

while another two kept hold of the end of the rope and kept on the

rock, so as to prevent us all being washed across the brig together. I

don't remember much more about it. I let go the boat, sank down at

once, as if the girl and I had been lead, felt a tug of the rope, and

then, just as the water seemed choking me, a great smash, and I

remember nothing else. When I came to my right senses again I was in a

bed at Filey. I had had a bad knock on the head, and my right arm,

which had been round the girl, was just splintered. They took it off

that night. The first thing as they told me when I came round was that

the gal was safe. I don't know whether I was glad or sorry to hear it.

I was glad, because I had kept my promise and brought her back alive.

I was sorry, because I hated her like pison. Why should she have been

saved when my two boys was drowned? She was well-plucked, was that

gal, for she had never quite lost her senses; and the moment she had

got warm in bed with hot blankets, and suchlike she wanted to get dry

clothes and to go straight on to Scarborough in a carriage. However,

the doctor would not hear of it, and she wrote a little letter saying

as she was all right; and a man galloped off with it on horseback, and

got there just as they had got a carriage to the door to drive over to

Filey to ask if there was any news there about the boat. They came

over and slept there, and she went back with them next day. I heard

all this afterwards, for I was off my head, what with the blow I had

got and one thing and another, before I had been there an hour. And I

raved and cussed at the girl, they tell me, so that they wouldn't let

her father in to see me.

"It was nigh a fortnight before I came to myself, to find my arm gone,

and then I was another month before I was out of bed. They came over

to Filey when I was sensible, and I hear they had got the best doctor

over from Scarborough to see me, and paid everything for me till I was

well, but I wouldn't see them when they came. I was quite as bitter

against her as I had been when I was in the sea drowning; and I was so

fierce when they talked of coming in that the doctor told them it

would make me bad again if they came. So they went up to London, and

when I could get about they sent me a letter, the gal herself and her

father and mother, thanking me, I suppose; but I don't know, for I

just tore 'em into pieces without reading them. Then a lawyer of the

town here came to me and said he'd 'struction to buy me a new boat,

and to buy a 'nuity for me. I told him his 'nuity couldn't bring my

boys back again, and that I warn't going to take blood-money; and as

to the boat, I'd knock a hole in her and sink her if she came. A year

after that lawyer came to me again, and said he'd more 'structions;

and I told him though I'd only one arm left I was man enough still to

knock his head off his shoulders, and that I'd do it if he came to me

with his 'structions or anything else.

"By this time I'd settled down to work on the shore, and had got the

name of Surly Joe. Rightly enough, too. I had one of them planks with

wheels that people use to get in and out of the boats; and as the

boatmen on the shore was all good to me, being sorry for my loss, and

so telling my story to people as went out with them, I got enough to

live on comfortable, only there was nothing comfortable about me. I

wouldn't speak a word, good or bad, to a soul for days together,

unless it was to swear at anyone as tried to talk to me. I hated

everyone, and myself wuss nor all. I was always cussing the rocks that

didn't kill me, and wondering how many years I'd got to go on at this

work before my turn came. Fortunately I'd never cared for drink; but

sometimes I'd find my thoughts too hard for me, and I'd go and drink

glass after glass till I tumbled under the table.

"At first my old mates tried to get me round, and made offers to me to

take a share in their boats, or to make one in a fishing voyage; but I

would not hear them, and in time they dropped off one by one, and left

me to myself, and for six years there wasn't a surlier,

wuss-conditioned, lonelier chap, not in all England, than I was. Well,

sir, one day--it was just at the beginning of the season, but was too

rough a day for sailing--I was a-sitting down on the steps of a

machine doing nothing, just wondering and wondering why things was as

they was, when two little gals cum up. One was, maybe, five, and the

other a year younger. I didn't notice as they'd just cum away from the

side of a lady and gentleman. I never did notice nothing that didn't

just concern me; but I did see that they had a nurse not far off. The

biggest girl had great big eyes, dark and soft, and she looked up into

my face, and held out a broken wooden spade and a bit of string, and

says she, 'Sailor-man, please mend our spade.' I was struck all of a

heap like; for though I had been mighty fond of little children in the

old days, and was still always careful of lifting them into boats, my

name and my black looks had been enough, and none of them had spoken

to me for years. I felt quite strange like when that child spoke out

to me, a'most like what I've read Robinson Crusoe, he as was wrecked

on the island, felt when he saw the mark of a foot.

"I goes to hold out my hand, and then I draws it back, and says,

gruff, 'Don't you see I aint got but one hand? Go to your nurse.'

"I expected to see her run right off; but she didn't, but stood as

quiet as may be, with her eyes looking up into my face.

"'Nurse can't mend spade; break again when Nina digs. Nina will hold

spade together, sailor-man tie it up strong.'

"I didn't answer at once; but I saw her lip quiver, and it was plain

she had been crying just before; so I put my hand into my pocket and

brings out a bit of string, for the stuff she'd got in her hand was

of no account; and I says, in a strange sort of voice, as I hardly

knew as my own, 'All right, missy, I'll tie it.'

"So she held the broken pieces together, and I ties 'em up with the

aid of my hand and my teeth, and makes a strong, ship-shape job of it.

I did it sitting on the bottom step, with a child standing on each

side watching me. When I had done it the eldest took it, and felt it.

"'That is nice and strong,' she said; 'thank you. Annie, say thank

you.'

"'T'ank you,' she said; and, with a little pat on my arm as a good-by,

the little ones trotted away to a nurse sitting some little distance

off.

"It may seem a little thing to you, sir, just a half-minute's talk to

a child; but it warn't a little thing to me. It seemed regularly to

upset me like; and I sat there thinking it over and wondering what was

come over me, till an hour afterwards they went past me with their

nurse; and the little things ran up to me and said, 'The spade's quite

good now--good-by, sailor-man!' and went on again. So I shook it off

and went to my work; for as the tide rose the wind dropped, and a few

boats went out; and thinking what a fool I was, was gruffer and

surlier than ever.

"Next morning I was lending a mate a hand painting a boat, when I saw

the two children coming along the sand again, and I wondered to

myself whether they would know me again, or think any more of me, and

though I wanted them to do so I turned my back to the way they was

coming, and went on with my painting. Somehow I felt wonderful glad

when I heard their little feet come, pattering along the sand, and

they sang out:

"'Good-morning, sailor-man!'

"'Good-morning!' says I, short-like, as if I didn't want no talk; and

I goes on with my work without turning round.

"Just then one of the men at the boats hails me.

"'Joe, there's a party coming down.'

"'I'm busy,' shouts I back; 'shove the plank out yourself.'

"The children stopped quiet by me for a minute or two, watching me at

work, and then the eldest says:

"'May we get inside the boat, Joe? we've never been inside a boat, and

we do want to so much.'

"'My hand is all covered with paint,' says I, making a fight with

myself against giving in.

"Then the little one said:

"'Oo stoop down, Joe; sissy and me take hold round oor neck; then oo

stand up and we det in.'

"Well, sir, the touch of their little arms and those soft little faces

against my cheeks as they got in fairly knocked me over, and it was

some time before I could see what I was doing.

"Once in, they never stopped talking. They asked about everything, and

I had to answer them; and as I got accustomed to it the words came

freer, till I was talking away with them as if I had known 'em all my

life. Once I asked them didn't their papa and mamma ever take 'em out

for a sail, and they shook their heads and said mammy hated the sea,

and said it was a cruel sea; by which I judged as she must have lost

someone dear to her by it.

"Well, sir, I must cut a long story short. Those children used to come

every day down to talk with me, and I got to look for it regular; and

if it was a wet day and they couldn't come I'd be regular put out by

it; and I got to getting apples and cakes in my pockets for them.

After a fortnight I took to carrying them across the wet sands and

putting them on the stand as I wheeled it out and back with people to

the boats. I didn't do it till they'd asked their mother, and brought

back the message that she knew she could trust them with me.

"All this time it never once struck me as strange that their nurse

should sit with a baby-brother of theirs at a distance, and let them

play with me by the hour together, without calling them away, for I

wondered so much at myself, and to find myself telling stories to 'em

just as I'd do with children who came out sailing with me in the old

time, and in knowing as I was so wrapped up in 'em that I couldn't

wonder at anything else. Natural like, I changed a good deal in other

respects, and I got to give a good-morning to mates as I had scarce

spoken with for years; and the moment the children turned down onto

the sands there'd be sure to be a shout of 'There's your little

ladies, Joe.'

"I don't know why my mates should ha' been pleased to see me coming

round, for I had made myself onpleasant enough on the shore; but

they'd made 'lowances for me, and they met me as kindly as if I'd cum

back from a vyage. They did it just quiet like, and would just say,

natural, 'Lend us a hand here, Joe, boy,' or 'Give us a shoulder over

the bank, Joe,' and ask me what I thought o' the weather. It was a

hard day for me when, after staying nigh two months, the little ladies

came to say good-by. It warn't as bad as might have been, though, for

they were going to stay with some friends near York, and were to come

back again in a fortnight before they went back to London. But they

kissed me, and cried, and gave me a pipe and a lot o' 'bacca, and I

was to think of them whenever I smoked it, and they would be sure to

think of me, for they loved me very much.

"That very afternoon, sir, as I was standing by my stage, Jim

Saunders--he'd been mate with me before I owned a boat of my own--says

out loud:

"'Lor', here's my party a-coming down, and I've jammed my hand so as I

can't hoist a sail. Who'll come out and lend me a hand?'

"Well, everyone says they were busy, and couldn't come; but I believe

now as the whole thing was a got-up plan to get me afloat again; and

then Jim turns to me as if a sudden idea had struck him.

"'Come, Joe, lend us a hand for the sake o' old times; come along, old

chap.'

"I was taken aback like, and could only say something about my stage;

but half a dozen chaps volunteers to look after my stage, and afore I

scarce knew what I was after I was bundled aboard the boat; and as the

party got in I'm blest if I don't think as every chap on the shore

runs in to help shove her off, and a score of hands was held out just

to give me a shake as we started.

"I don't think I was much good on that vyage, for I went and sat up in

the bow, with my back to the others, and my eyes fixed far ahead.

"I needn't tell you, sir, when I'd once broken the ice I went regular

to the sea again, and handed my stage over to a poor fellow who had

lost his craft and a leg the winter before.

"One day when I came in from a sail I saw two little figures upon the

sands, and it needed no word from anyone to tell me my little ladies

had come back. They jumped and clapped their hands when they saw me,

and would have run across the water to meet me hadn't I shouted to

them to wait just a minute till I should be with them.

"'We've been waiting a long time, Joe. Where have you been?'

"'I've been out sailing, missy.'

"'Joe, don't you know it's wicked to tell stories? You told us you

should never go on sea any more.'

"'No more I didn't think I should, missy; and I don't suppose I ever

should if I hadn't met you, though you won't understand that. However,

I've give up the stage, and have taken to the sea again.'

"'I'm glad of that, Joe,' the eldest said, 'and mamma will be glad

too.'

"'Why should mamma be glad, little one?' I asked.

"'Mamma will be glad,' she said positively. 'I know she will be glad

when I tells her.'

"We'd sat down by this time, and I began to talk to them about their

mamma. Mamma very good, very kind, very pretty, they both agreed; and

then they went on telling me about their home in London, and their

carriage and amusements. Presently they stopped, and I could see the

eldest wanted to say something particular, for she puckered up her

forehead as she always did when she was very serious; and then she

said, with her hands folded before her, almost as if she was saying a

lesson:

"'Mamma very happy woman. She's got two little girls and baby-brother,

and papa love her so much; but there's one thing keeps her from being

quite happy.'

"'Is there, missy?' I asked. 'She ought to be happy with all these

things. What is it?'

"'Mamma once had someone do a great thing for her. If it hadn't been

for him Nina and sissy and little baby-brother could never have been

born, and papa would never have had dear mamma to love; but it cost

the man who did it a great deal--all he cared for; and now he won't

let mamma and papa and us love him and help him; and it makes mamma

unhappy when she thinks of it.'

"Here she had evidently finished what she had heard her mamma say, for

her forehead got smooth again, and she began to fill my pockets with

sand.

"'It don't sound likely, missy, that doesn't,' I says. 'It don't stand

to reason nohow. You can't have understood what mamma said.'

"'Mamma said it over and over again, lots of time,' Nina said. 'Nina

quite sure she said right.'

"We didn't say no more about it then, though after the children had

gone I wondered to myself how a chap could go on so foolish as that.

Well, sir, three days after come round from Whitby this very boat, the

_Grateful Mary_. She was sent care of Joe Denton; and as that was me,

I had her hauled up on the beach till I should hear whose she was.

Several visitors that had been out with me had said, promiscuous like,

that they should like to have a boat of their own, and I supposed they

had bought her at Whitby and sent her down, though why they should

have sent her to my care I couldn't quite see.

"Two days afterwards them children come down, and says:

"'We want you to go through the town to the other cliff with us, Joe.'

"'I can't,' says I. 'I'm all right talking to you here, missies; but I

shouldn't be a credit to you in the town, and your pa wouldn't be

best pleased if he was to see you walking about in the streets with a

boatman.'

"'Papa said we might ask you, Joe.'

"I shook my head, and the little ladies ran off to their nurse, who

come back with them and says:

"'Master told me to say he should be pertickler glad if you would go

with the young ladies.'

"'Oh, very well,' I says; 'if their pa don't object, and they wishes

it, I'd go with 'em anywheres. You wait here a quarter of an hour,

while I goes and cleans myself, and I'll go with you.'

"When I comes back the youngest takes my hand, and the oldest holds by

my jacket, and we goes up into High Street, and across to the other

cliff. We goes along till we comes to a pretty little cottage looking

over the sea. There was a garden in front, new planted with flowers.

"'Are you sure you are going right?' says I, when they turned in.

"They nodded, and ran up to the door and turned the handle.

"'Come in, Joe,' they said; and they dragged me into a parlor, where a

lady and gentleman was sitting.

"The gentleman got up.

"'My little girls have spoken so much to me about you, Joe, that I

feel that we know each other already.'

"'Yes, sir, surely,' says I.

"'Well, Joe, do you know that I owe you a great deal as to these

little girls?'

"'Bless you, sir, it's I as owe a great deal to the little missies;

they have made a changed man of me, they have; you ask anyone on the

shore.'

"'I hope they have, Joe; for had they not got round your heart, and

led you to your better self, I could never have done what I have done,

for you would have rendered it useless.'

"I didn't say nothing, sir, for I could make neither head nor tail of

what he was saying, and, I dessay, looked as surprised as might be.

Then he takes a step forward, and he puts a hand on my shoulder, and

says he:

"'Joe, have you never guessed who these little girls were?'

"I looked first at the children, and then at him, and then at the

lady, who had a veil down, but was wiping her eyes underneath it. I

was downright flummuxed.

"'I see you haven't,' the gentleman went on. 'Well, Joe, it is time

you should know now. I owe to you all that is dear to me in this

world, and our one unhappiness has been that you would not hear us,

that you had lost everything and would not let us do anything to

lighten your blow.'

"Still, sir, I couldn't make out what he meant, and began to think

that I was mad, or that he was. Then the lady stood up and threw back

her veil, and come up in front of me with the tears a-running down

her face; and I fell back a step, and sits down suddenly in a chair,

for, sure enough, it was that gal. Different to what I had seen her

last, healthy-looking and well--older, in course; a woman now, and the

mother of my little ladies.

"She stood before me, sir, with her hands out before her, pleading

like.

"'Don't hate me any more, Joe. Let my children stand between us. I

know what you have suffered, and, in all my happiness, the thought of

your loneliness has been a trouble, as my husband will tell you. I so

often thought of you--a broken, lonely man. I have talked to the

children of you till they loved the man that saved their mother's

life. I cannot give you what you have lost, Joe--no one can do that;

but you may make us happy in making you comfortable. At least, if you

cannot help hating me, let the love I know you bear my children weigh

with you.'

"As she spoke the children were hanging on me; and when she stopped

the little one said:

"'Oh, Joe, oo must be dood; oo mustn't hate mamma, and make her cry!'

"Well, sir, I know as I need tell you more about it. You can imagine

how I quite broke down, like a great baby, and called myself every

kind of name, saying only that I thought, and I a'most think so now,

that I had been somehow mad from the moment the squall struck the

_Kate_ till the time I first met the little girls.

"When I thought o' that, and how I'd cut that poor gal to her drowning

heart with my words, I could ha' knelt to her if she'd ha' let me. At

last, when I was quiet, she explained that this cottage and its

furniture and the _Grateful Mary_ was all for me; and we'd a great

fight over it, and I only gave in when at last she says that if I

didn't do as she wanted she'd never come down to Scarborough with the

little ladies no more; but that if I 'greed they'd come down regular

every year, and that the little girls should go out sailing with me

regular in the _Grateful Mary_.

"Well, sir, there was no arguing against that, was there? So here I

am; and next week I expect Miss Mary that was, with her husband, who's

a Parliament man, as she was engaged to be married to at the time of

the upset, and my little ladies, who is getting quite big girls too.

And if you hadn't been going away I'd ha' sailed round the castle

tower, and I'd ha' pointed out the cottage to you. Yes, sir, I see

what you are going to ask. I found it lonely there; and I found the

widow of a old mate of mine who seemed to think as how she could make

me comfortable; and comfortable I am, sir--no words could say how

comfortable I am; and do you know, sir, I'm blest if there aint a Joe

up there at this identical time, only he's a very little one, and has

got both arms. So you see, sir, I have got about as little right as

has any chap in this mortial world to the name of Surly Joe."

A FISH-WIFE'S DREAM.

Falmouth is not a fashionable watering-place. Capitalists and

speculative builders have somehow left it alone, and, except for its

great hotel, standing in a position, as far as I know, unrivaled,

there have been comparatively few additions to it in the last quarter

of a century. Were I a yachtsman I should make Falmouth my

headquarters: blow high, blow low, there are shelter and plenty of

sailing room, while in fine weather there is a glorious coast along

which to cruise--something very different from the flat shores from

Southampton to Brighton. It is some six years since that I was lying

in the harbor, having sailed round in a friend's yacht from Cowes.

Upon the day after we had come in my friend went into Truro, and I

landed, strolled up, and sat down on a bench high on the seaward face

of the hill that shelters the inner harbor.

An old coastguardsman came along. I offered him tobacco, and in five

minutes we were in full talk.

"I suppose those are the pilchard boats far out there?"

"Aye, that's the pilchard fleet."

"Do they do well generally?"

"Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't; it's an uncertain fish the

pilchard, and it's a rough life is fishing on this coast. There aint a

good harbor not this side of the Lizard; and if they're caught in a

gale from the southeast it goes hard with them. With a southwester

they can run back here."

"Were you ever a fisherman yourself?"

"Aye, I began life at it; I went a-fishing as a boy well-nigh fifty

year back, but I got a sickener of it, and tramped to Plymouth and

shipped in a frigate there, and served all my time in queen's ships."

"Did you get sick of fishing because of the hardships of the life, or

from any particular circumstance?"

"I got wrecked on the Scillys. There was fifty boats lost that night,

and scarce a hand was saved. I shouldn't have been saved myself if it

had not been for a dream of mother's."

"That's curious," I said. "Would you mind telling me about it?"

The old sailor did not speak for a minute or two; and then, after a

sharp puff at his pipe, he told me the following story, of which I

have but slightly altered the wording:

I lived with mother at Tregannock. It's a bit of a village now, as it

was then. My father had been washed overboard and drowned two years

before. I was his only son. The boat I sailed in was mother's, and

four men and myself worked her in shares. I was twenty-one, or maybe

twenty-two, years old then. It was one day early in October. We had

had a bad season, and times were hard. We'd agreed to start at eight

o'clock in the morning. I was up at five, and went down to the boats

to see as everything was ready. When I got back mother had made

breakfast; and when we sat down I saw that the old woman had been

crying, and looked altogether queer like.

"My boy," says she, "I want you not to go out this trip."

"Not go out!" said I; "not go out, mother! Why? What's happened? Your

share and mine didn't come to three pounds last month, and it would be

a talk if I didn't go out in the _Jane_. Why, what is it?"

"My boy," says she, "I've had a dream as how you was drowned."

"Drowned!" said I; "I'm not going to be drowned, mother."

But what she said made me feel creepy like, for us Cornishmen goes a

good deal on dreams and tokens; and sure enough mother had dreamed

father was going to be drowned before he started on that last trip of

his.

"That's not all, Will," she said. "I dreamed of you in bed, and a chap

was leaning over you cutting your throat."

I didn't care much for going on with my breakfast after that; but in a

minute or two I plucks up and says:

"Well, mother, you're wrong, anyhow; for if I be drowned no one has no

call to cut my throat."

"I didn't see you downright drowned in my dream," she said. "You was

in the sea--a terribly rough sea--at night, and the waves were

breaking down on you."

"I can't help going, mother," I says, after a bit. "It's a fine day,

and it's our boat. All the lads and girls in the village would laugh

at me if I stayed at home."

"That's just what your father said; and he went to his death."

And my mother, as she says this, puts her apron over her head and

began to cry again. I'd more than half a mind to give way; but you

know what young chaps are. The thought of what the girls of the place

would say about my being afraid to go was too much for me.

At last, when mother saw I was bent on going, she got up and said:

"Well, Will, if my prayers can't keep you back, will you do something

else I ask you?"

"I will, mother," said I--"anything but stay back."

She went off without a word into her bedroom, and she came back with

something in her arms.

"Look here, Will, I made this for your father, and he wouldn't have

it; now I ask you to take it, and put it on if a storm comes on. You

see, you can put it on under your dreadnaught coat, and no one will

be any the wiser."

The thing she brought in was two flat Dutch spirit-bottles, sewn

between two pieces of canvas. It had got strings sewed on for tying

round the body, and put on as she did to show me how, one bottle each

side of the chest, it lay pretty flat.

"Now, Will, these bottles will keep you up for hours. A gentleman who

was staying in the village before you was born was talking about

wrecks, and he said that a couple of empty bottles, well corked, would

keep up a fair swimmer for hours. So I made it; but no words could get

your father to try it, though he was willing enough to say that it

would probably keep him afloat. You'll try it, won't you, Will?"

I didn't much like taking it, but I thought there wasn't much chance

of a storm, and that if I put it under my coat and hid it away down in

the forecastle, no one would see it; and so to please her I said I'd

take it, and that if a bad storm came on I would slip it on.

"I will put a wineglass of brandy into one of the bottles," mother

said. "It may be useful to you; who can say?"

I got the life-preserver, as you call it nowadays, on board without

its being seen, and stowed it away in my locker. I felt glad now I'd

got it, for mother's dream had made me feel uneasy; and on my way down

old Dick Tremaine said to me:

"I don't like the look of the sky, lad."

"No!" says I; "why, it looks fine enough."

"Too fine, lad. I tell ye, boy, I don't like the look of it. I think

we're going to have a bad blow."

I told the others what he had said; but they didn't heed much. Two

boats had come in that morning with a fine catch, and after the bad

time we'd been having it would have taken a lot to keep them in after

that.

We thought no more about it after we had once started. The wind was

light and puffy; but we had great luck, and were too busy to watch the

weather. What wind there was, was northerly; but towards sunset it

dropped suddenly, and as the sails flapped we looked round at the sky.

"I fear old Dick was right, lads," Jabez Harper, who was skipper,

said, "and I wish we had taken more heed to his words. That's about as

wild a sunset as may be; and look how that drift is nearing our boat."

Even I, who was the youngest of them, was old enough to read the signs

of a storm--the heavy bank of dark clouds, the pale-yellow broken

light, the horse-tails high up in the sky, and the small broken

irregular masses of cloud that hurried across them. Instinctively we

looked round towards the coast. It was fully fifteen miles away, and

we were to the east of it. The great change in the appearance of the

sky had taken place in the last half-hour; previous to that time there

had been nothing which would have struck any but a man grown old upon

the coast like Dick Tremaine.

"Reef the mainsail," Jabez said, "and the foresail too; take in the

mizzen. Like enough it will come with a squall, and we'd best be as

snug as may be. What do you say? shall we throw over some of the

fish?"

It was a hard thing to agree to; but every minute the sky was

changing. The scud was flying thicker and faster overhead, and the

land was lost in a black cloud that seemed to touch the water.

"We needn't throw 'em all out," Jabez said; "if we get rid of half

she'll be about in her best trim; and she's as good a sea-boat as

there is on the coast. Come, lads, don't look at it."

It was, as he said, no use looking at it, and in five minutes half our

catch of the day was overboard. The _Jane_ was a half-decked boat,

yawl-rigged; she wasn't built in our parts, but had been brought round

from somewhere east by a gentleman as a fishing-craft. He had used her

for two years, and had got tired of the sport, and my father had

bought her of him. She wasn't the sort of boat generally used about

here, but we all liked her, and swore by her.

"It will be a tremendous blow for the first few minutes, I reckon,"

Jabez said after a while. "Lower down her sails altogether; get her

head to it with a sweep. I'll take the helm; Harry, you stand ready to

hoist the foresail a few feet; and, Will, you and John stand by the

hoists of the mainsail. We must show enough to keep her laying-to as

long as we can. You'd best get your coats out and put 'em on, and

batten down the hatch."

I let the others go down first, and when they came up I went in, tied

the life-belt round me, and put on my oilskin. I fetched out a bottle

of hollands from my locker, and then came out and fastened the hatch.

"Here comes the first puff," Jabez said.

I stowed away the bottle among some ropes for our future use, and took

hold of the throat halyard.

"Here it comes," Jabez said, as a white line appeared under the cloud

of mist and darkness ahead, and then with a roar it was upon us.

I have been at sea, man and boy, for forty years, and I never remember

in these latitudes such a squall as that. For a few minutes I could

scarcely see or breathe. The spray flew in sheets over us, and the

wind roared so that you wouldn't have heard a sixty-eight-pounder ten

yards off. At first I thought we were going down bodily. It was lucky

we had taken every stitch of canvas off her, for, as she spun round,

the force of the wind against the masts and rigging all but capsized

her. In five minutes the first burst was over, and we were running

before it under our close-reefed foresail only. There was no occasion

for us to stand by the halyards now, and we all gathered in the stern,

and crouched down in the well. Although the sun had only gone down

half an hour it was pitch-dark, except that the white foam round us

gave a sort of dim light that made the sky look all the blacker. The

sea got up in less time than it takes in telling, and we were soon

obliged to hoist the foresail a bit higher to prevent the waves from

coming in over the stern. For three hours we tore on before the gale,

and then it lulled almost as suddenly as it had come on. There had

scarcely been a word spoken between us during this time. I was half

asleep in spite of the showers of spray. Jim Hackers, who was always

smoking, puffed away steadily; Jabez was steering still, and the

others were quite quiet. With the sudden lull we were all on our feet.

"Is it all over, Jabez?" I asked.

"It's only begun," he said. "I scarce remember such a gale as this

since I was a boy. Pass that bottle of yours round, Will; we shall be

busy again directly. One of you take the helm; I'm stiff with the wet.

We shall have it round from the south in a few minutes."

There was scarce a breath of wind now, and she rolled so I thought she

would have turned turtle.

"Get out a sweep," Jabez said, "and bring her head round."

We had scarcely done so ere the first squall from behind struck us,

and in five minutes we were running back as fast as we had come. The

wind was at first south, but settled round to southeast. We got up a

little more sail now, and made a shift to keep her to the west, for

with this wind we should have been ashore long before morning if we

had run straight before it. The sea had been heavy--it was tremendous

now; and, light and seaworthy as the _Jane_ was, we had to keep baling

as the sea broke into her. Over and over again I thought that it was

all over with us as the great waves towered above our stern, but they

slipped under us as we went driving on at twelve or fourteen knots an

hour. I stood up by the side of Jabez, and asked him what he thought

of it.

"I can't keep her off the wind," he said; "we must run, and by

midnight we shall be among the Scillys. Then it's a toss-up."

Jabez's calculations could not have been far out, for it was just

midnight, as far as I could tell, when we saw a flash right ahead.

"That's a ship on one of the Scillys," Jabez said. "I wish I knew

which it was."

He tried to bring her a little more up into the wind, but she nearly

lay over onto her beam-ends, and Jabez let her go ahead again. We saw

one more flash, and then a broad faint light. The ship was burning a

blue light. She was not a mile ahead now, and we could see she was a

large vessel. I had often been to the Scillys before, and knew them as

well as I did our coast, but I could not see the land. It was as Jabez

had said--a toss-up. If we just missed one of them we might manage to

bring up under its lee; but if we ran dead into one or other of them

the _Jane_ would break up like an egg-shell.

We were rapidly running down upon the wreck when the glare of a fire

on shore shone up. It was a great blaze, and we could faintly see the

land and a white cottage some hundred yards from the shore.

"I know it," Jabez shouted; "we are close to the end of the island; we

may miss it yet. Hoist the mainsail a bit."

I leapt up with another to seize the halyards, when a great wave

struck us; she gave a roll, and the next moment I was in the water.

After the first wild efforts I felt calm like. I knew the shore was

but half a mile ahead, and that the wind would set me dead upon it. I

loosened my tarpaulin coat and shook it off, and I found that with

mother's belt I could keep easily enough afloat, though I was half

drowned with the waves as they swept in from behind me. My mother's

dream cheered me up, for, according to that, it did not seem as I was

to be drowned, whatever was to come afterwards. I drifted past the

wreck within a hundred yards or so. They were still burning blue

lights; but the sea made a clean sweep over her, and I saw that in a

very few minutes she would go to pieces. Many times as the seas broke

over me I quite gave up hope of reaching shore; but I was a fair

swimmer, and the bottles buoyed me up, and I struggled on.

I could see the fire on shore, but the surf that broke against the

rocks showed a certain death if I made for it, and I tried hard to

work to the left, where I could see no breaking surf. It seemed to me

that the fire was built close to the end of the island. As I came

close I found that this was so. I drifted past the point of land not

fifty feet off, where the waves were sending their spray a hundred

feet up; then I made a great struggle, and got in under the lee of the

point. There was a little bay with a shelving shore, and here I made a

shift to land. Five minutes to rest, and then I made my way towards

the fire. There was no one there, and I went to the edge of the rocks.

Here four or five men with ropes were standing, trying to secure some

of the casks, chests, and wreckage from the ship. The surf was full of

floating objects, but nothing could stand the shock of a crash against

those rocks. The water was deep alongside, and the waves, as they

struck, flew up in spray, which made standing almost impossible.

The men came round me when they saw me. There was no hearing one speak

in the noise of the storm; so I made signs I had landed behind the

point, and that if they came with their ropes to the point they might

get something as it floated past. They went off, and I sat down by the

fire, wrung my clothes as well as I could,--I thought nothing of the

wet, for one is wet through half the time in a fishing-boat,--took off

mother's belt, and found one of the bottles had broke as I got ashore;

but luckily it was the one which was quite empty. I got the cork out

of the other, and had a drink of brandy, and then felt pretty right

again. I had good hopes the boat was all right, for she would get

round the point easy, and Jabez would bring her up under the lee of

the island. I thought I would go and see if I could help the others,

and perhaps save someone drifting from the wreck; but I did not think

there was very much chance, for she lay some little distance to the

right, and I hardly thought a swimmer could keep off the shore.

Just as I was going to move I saw two of them coming back. They had a

body between them, and they put it down a little distance from the

fire. I was on the other side, and they had forgotten all about me.

They stooped over the figure, and I could not see what they were

doing. I got up and went over, and they gave a start when they saw me.

"Is he alive?" says I. "Dunno," one of 'em growled; and I could see

pretty well that if I had not been there it would have gone hard with

the chap. He was a foreign, Jewish-looking fellow, and had around him

one of the ship's life-buoys. There were lots of rings on his fingers,

and he had a belt round his waist that looked pretty well stuffed out.

I put my hand to his heart, and found he still breathed; and then I

poured a few drops of brandy which remained in my bottle down his

throat.

While I was doing this the two men had talked to each other aside.

"He's alive, all right," says I. "That's a good job," one of 'em said;

but I knew he didn't think so. "We'll carry him up to our cottage.

You'll be all the better for a sleep; it must be past two o'clock by

this time."

They took the chap up, and carried him to the cottage, and put him on

a bed. He was moaning a little, and between us we undressed him and

got him into bed. "I doubt he'll come round," I said.

"I don't believe he will. Will you have a drink of whisky?"

I was mighty glad to do so, and then, throwing off my wet clothes, I

got into the other bed, for there were two in the room.

The men said they were going down again to see what they could get.

They left the whisky bottle on the table, and as soon as I was alone I

jumped out and poured a little into the other chap's teeth, so as to

give him as good a chance as I could; but I didn't much think he'd get

round, and then I got into bed and shut my eyes. I was just going off,

when, with a sudden jump, I sat straight up. Mother's dream came right

across me. I was out of bed in a moment, and looked at the door. There

was no bolt, so I put a couple of chairs against it. Then I took my

clasp-knife out of my pocket and opened it. I gave the other chap a

shake, but there was no sense in him, and I got into bed again. I

thought to myself they would never risk a fight when they saw me armed

and ready. But I soon found that I couldn't keep awake; so I got up

and dressed in my wet clothes, and went to the door. I found it was

fastened on the outside. I soon opened the window and got out, but

before I did that I rolled up some clothes and put 'em in the bed, and

made a sort of likeness of a man there. The poor fellow in bed was

lying very still now, and I felt pretty sure that he would not live

till morning. The candle was a fresh one when they had first lighted

it, and I left it burning.

When I had got out I shut the window, and went away fifty yards or so,

where I could hear them come back. Presently I heard some footsteps

coming from the opposite direction. Then I heard a voice I knew say,

"There is the fire; we shall soon know whether the poor lad has got

ashore."

"Here am I, Jabez," I said. "Hush!" as he and the other were going to

break into a shout of welcome, "hush! Some wreckers are coming up

directly to cut my throat and that of another chap in that cottage."

In a word or two I told them all about it; and they agreed to wait

with me and see the end of it. Jabez had brought the _Jane_ up under

the lee of the island, and, leaving two of the men on board, had come

on shore in the cobble with the other to look for me, but with very

faint hopes of finding me.

"You had best get hold of something to fight with, if you mean to take

these fellows, Jabez."

"A good lump of rock is as good a weapon as another," Jabez said.

Our plan was soon arranged, and half an hour later we heard footsteps

coming up from the shore again. Two men passed us, went into the

cottage, and shut the door. Jabez and I made round to the window,

where we could see in, and John Redpath stood at the door. He was to

open it and rush in when he heard us shout. We stood a little back,

but we could see well into the room. Presently we saw the door open

very quietly, little by little. A hand came through and moved the

chairs, and then it opened wide. Then the two men entered. One, a big

fellow, had a knife in his hand, and drew towards the bed, where, as

it seemed, I was sleeping, with my head covered up by the clothes. The

other had no knife in his hand, and came towards the other bed.

"Get ready, lad," Jabez said to me.

The big fellow raised his knife and plunged it down into the figure,

throwing his weight onto it at the same moment, while the smaller man

snatched the pillow from under the other's head and clapped it over

his face, and threw his weight on it. As they did so we pushed the

casement open and leapt in. I seized the smaller man, who was

suffocating the other chap, and before he could draw his knife I had

him on the ground and my knee on his chest. The big fellow had leapt

up. He gave a howl of rage as Jabez rushed at him, and stood at bay

with his knife. Jabez stopped, however, and threw his lump of rock, as

big as a baby's head, right into his stomach. It just tumbled him over

like a cannon-shot. John burst in through the door, and we had 'em

both tied tightly before five minutes was over. Then we lit a big fire

in the kitchen, and with warm clothes and some hot whisky and water

we got the foreign chap pretty well round.

In the morning I went off and found a village on the other side of the

island. I woke them up and told my story, and, to do 'em justice,

though there were some who would have shielded the fellows we had

caught, the best part were on our side. Some of 'em told me there had

been suspicion upon these men, and that they bore a bad name. There

was no magistrate in the island, and no one objected when I said we

would take them across to Penzance and give them in charge there.

So we did; and they were tried and got transportation for life for

attempting to murder the foreign chap, who, it turned out, was a

Brazilian Jew, with diamonds. He offered us all sorts of presents, but

we would have none; but that's neither here nor there.

So you see, master, mother's dream saved me from drowning and from

having my throat cut. I gave up fishing after that and went into the

queen's service. Mother sold the boat, and went to live with a sister

of hers at Truro. The Scilly Islands have changed since those times,

and you'll meet as much kindness there if you're wrecked as you will

anywhere else; but they were a rough lot in those days, and I had a

pretty close shave of it, hadn't I?

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Clovernook Tales. Vol. I.

Clovernook Tales. Vol. II.

#Rosa Nouchette Carey.#

Averil.

Our Bessie.

#Cousin Virginia.#

Cricket's Friends, The.

Dolls' Club, The.

3 Vols. in 1.

Jo's Doll.

Katy's Christmas.

Patty's Pranks.

#Lewis Carroll.#

Alice's Adventures In Wonderland.

Through the Looking-Glass.

#Maria S. Cummins.#

Lamplighter, The.

#Mary A. Denison.#

Barbara's Triumphs.

Frenchman's Ward, The.

Guardian's Trust, The.

#Maria Edgeworth.#

Simple Susan.

#Juliana Horatia Ewing.#

Flat-Iron for a Farthing, A.

Great Emergency, A.

Jackanapes.

Jan of the Windmill.

Six to Sixteen.

We and the World.

#Julia Goddard.#

Fairy Tales In Other Lands.

#Virginia F. Townsend.#

Amy Deane.

While it Was Morning.

THE FEDERAL BOOK COMPANY. New York.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: All apparent printer's errors retained.