"Muscular Christianity is very great!" said the Archangel. "The devil it
is!" said Satan, "see how I will deal with it!" In the days of Job he
said, "Touch his bone and his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face"--
"But Satan now is wiser than of yore,
And tempts by making _strong_, not making poor."
Muscular Christianity was at one time the cant phrase. Can we even now
talk of Christian muscularity? For my part I think an Eton lad or a
Camford man is a sight for gods and fishes. The glory of his neck-tie is
terrible. He saith among the cricket balls, Ha, ha, and he smelleth the
battle afar off, the thud of the oars and the shouting. I suppose the
voice of the people is the voice of God; but let a thing once become
fashionable and the devil steps in and leads the dance. When Lady
Somebody, or Sir John Nobody, gives away the prizes at the county
athletic sports, amid the ringing cheers of the surrounding ladies and
gentlemen, I suspect the recipient, in nine times out of ten, is little
better than an obtainer of goods by false pretences. When that ardent
youth, Tommy Leapwell, brings home a magnificent silver goblet for the
"high jump," what a fuss is made of it and of him both at home and in the
newspapers; whereas when that exemplary young student, Mugger, after a
term's hard labour, receives as a reward a volume of Macaulay's _Essays_,
in calf, price two and sixpence, very little is said about the matter;
and, at all events, the dismal circumstance is not mentioned outside the
family circle.
Nelly Crayshaw was talking saucily with Hawkstone as we came down to the
quay. I noticed Barton shaking hands with her, and whispering a few
words as we got into the boat; and I noticed also a certain sheepish, and
rather sulky look upon Hawkstone's face, as he did so; and if I was not
mistaken, my learned friend Glenville let something very like an oath
escape him as he shouted: "Barton, Barton, come along; we are all waiting
for you!"
I do not think Nelly could be called a beauty. The face was too flat,
the mouth was too large, and the colour of the cheeks was too brilliant.
Yet she was very charming. The blue of her eyes underneath dark
eyelashes and eyebrows was--well--heavenly. The whole face beamed and
glowed through masses of brown hair, which were arranged in a somewhat
disorderly manner, and yet with an evident eye to effect. The aspect was
frank and good-humoured, though somewhat soft and sensuous; and the form,
though full, was not without elegance, and showed both strength and
agility. No one could pass by her without being arrested by her
appearance, but we used to quarrel very much as to her claims to be
called a "clipper," or a "stunner," or whatever was the word in use among
us to express our ideal.
Barton jumped into the boat and away we went, Thornton steering, Mrs.
Bagshaw, her daughter, and the Misses Delamere in the stern, Barton
stroke, myself three, Glenville two, and Hawkstone bow--a very fine crew,
let me tell you, for we all knew how to handle an oar,--especially in
smooth water. And so we passed in front of the parade, waving our pocket
handkerchiefs in answer to those which fluttered on the shore, and rowing
away into the wide sea. Mrs. Bagshaw, who was an excellent musician, and
her daughter, who had a lovely voice, sang duets and songs for our
amusement; and, with the aid of the two Misses Delamere, made up some
tolerable glees and choruses, in the latter of which we all joined at
intervals, to the confusion of the whole effect,--of the singing in point
of tune, and of the rowing in point of time.
As we were rounding Horn Point, Thornton said to Mrs. Bagshaw, "Do you
know, there are some such splendid ferns grow in a little ravine you can
see there on the side of that hill. Do let us land and get some."
"What do you want ferns for?" asked I, innocently.
"Silence in the boat, three," cried Glenville. "What a hard-hearted
monster you must be!" he whispered in my ear.
"Oh, do let us land," said Miss Delamere, "I do so want some common
bracken"--or whatever it was, for she cared no more than you or I about
the ferns--"I want some for my book, and mamma says we really must
collect some rare specimens before we go home." Mrs. Bagshaw guessed
what sort of flower they would be looking for--heartsease, I suppose, or
forget-me-not; but she very good-naturedly agreed to the proposal, and
Hawkstone undertook to show us where we could land. We were soon ashore,
and Hawkstone said, "You must not be long, gentlemen, if you please, for
the wind is rising, and it will come on squally before long; and we have
wind and tide against us going back, and a tough job it is often to round
the lighthouse hill."
"All right," said Thornton, "how long can you give us?"
"Twenty minutes at the most," said the boatman, "and you will only just
have time to mount the cliff and come back."
I heard an indistinct, dull murmur, half of the sea and half of the wind,
and, looking far out to sea, could fancy I saw little white sheep on the
waves. We left Glenville with Hawkstone talking and smoking. They were
really great friends, although in such different ranks in life. Glenville
used to rave about him as a true specimen of the old Devon rover. He was
a tall, well-proportioned man, with a clear, open face, very ruddy with
sun and wind and rough exercise, a very pleasant smile, and grey eyes,
rather piercing and deep set. The brow was fine, and the features
regular, though massive. The hair and beard were brown and
rough-looking, but his manner was gentle, and had that peculiar courtesy
which makes many a Devon man a gentleman and many a Devon lass a lady,
let them be of ever so humble an origin.
Barton paired off with the younger Miss Delamere, Thornton with the
elder. Mrs. Bagshaw and I followed, conversing cheerfully of many
things. I found her a very entertaining and agreeable lady,
accomplished, frank, and amiable. There was nothing at all peculiar
either in her appearance or conversation. While I was talking to her I
kept wondering whether her outbreaks of temper were the result of some
real or supposed cause of jealousy, or were to be attributed solely to a
chronic feeling of irritability against her husband. In the course of
our walk together Mrs. Bagshaw said to me--
"Your friend, Mr. Thornton, is evidently very much smitten with Florence
Delamere."
"Yes, I think so," I replied, "but I daresay nothing will come of it. Her
family would not like it, I suppose; for, you know, they are of a good
family in Norfolk, and Thornton is only the son of a grocer."
"I did not know that," she said, "but I have thought your friend had not
quite the manners of the class to which the Delameres clearly belong.
Mrs. Delamere is perhaps not anyone in particular, and she certainly
talks overmuch upon subjects which probably she does not understand. The
young ladies are most agreeable and lady-like, and I think Mr. Thornton
has found that out. It is easy to see that objections to any engagement
would be of the gravest sort--indeed, I imagine, insurmountable. It is
most unfortunate that this should happen when the young man is away from
his parents, who might guide him out of the difficulty. I think Mrs.
Delamere is aware of the attachment, and is not inclined to favour it. Do
you think you could influence your friend in any way? You will do him a
great service if you can warn him of his danger; if he does not attend to
you, you might tell Mr. Porkington, and consult with him."
I promised to follow her advice as well as I could, for I felt that it
was both kindly meant and reasonable, although I felt myself rather too
young to be entangled in such matters.
* * * * *
"Oh what a lovely fern, such a nice little one too. Do try and dig it up
for me," said Florence.
"I will try to do my best," said Thornton; "I have got a knife." And
down he went upon his knees, and soon extracted a little brittle bladder,
which he handed to the young lady, saying, "I hope it will live. Do you
think it will?"
"Oh, yes," she said. "I can keep it here till we go home, and then plant
it in my rockery, where they flourish nicely, as it is beautifully
sheltered from the sun."
"I wish it were rather a handsomer-looking thing," said the young man,
looking rather ruefully at the little specimen.
"I shall prize it for the sake of the giver," she said, with a slight
blush. "But I am afraid you have spoilt your knife."
"Oh, not at all. Do let me dig up some more."
"No, thank you; do not trouble. See what a pretty bank of wild thyme."
"Would you like to sit down upon it? You know it smells all the sweeter
for being crushed."
"Well, it does really look most inviting." Florence sat down, saying as
she did so, "How lovely the wild flowers are--heather and harebells."
"Let me gather some for you." He began plucking the flowers, which
flourished in such profusion and variety that a nosegay grew in every
foot of turf. "When do you think of leaving Babbicombe?"
"In two or three days."
"So soon!"
"Yes; for papa has to go back to attend to his Quarter Sessions."
"I am very, very sorry you are going. I had hoped you would stay much
longer. These three weeks have flown like three days."
"Why, Mr. Thornton, I declare you are throwing my flowers away as fast as
you gather them."
"So I am," he said. "The fact is I hardly know what I am doing." The
colour was blazing into his face, and his heart beating wildly.
"Florence," he cried, flinging himself upon his knees beside her,
"forgive me if I speak rashly or wildly--I don't know how to speak. I
don't know what to tell you--but I love you dearly, dearly, with my whole
heart. I cannot tell--I hope--I think you may like me. Do not say no, I
implore you. If you do not like me to speak so wildly, tell me so; but
don't say you will not love me. Tell me you will love me--if you can."
Florence was young, and was taken by surprise, or perhaps she might have
stopped the young gentleman at once; but after all it is not unpleasant
to a pretty girl to see a good-looking young lad at her feet and to
listen to his passionate words of homage. At length, when he seemed to
come to a pause, she replied: "Oh, Mr. Thornton, please, please do not
talk so. This is so sudden. Our parents know nothing of this!"
"Do you love me--tell me?"
"We are too young. You really must not--"
"It does not matter about being young."
"Oh, do not speak any more."
"Florence, do you love me? I shall go mad if you will not answer." He
seized her hand as he leant forward, and gazed eagerly into her face,
while he trembled violently with his own emotion. "Do you love me--say?"
"I think, I think--I do," she said very softly, looking him full in the
face, while he seized her round the waist, and her head leant for one
moment on his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead.
She started up, saying, "Oh, do let me go, please. I ought not to have
said so."
He rose first, and lifted her up by the hand.
* * * * *
"I will tell you what it is, Hawkstone," said Glenville. "I think it is
a d---d shame, and I shall tell him so. He may be a bigger fellow than
I, but I could punch his head for him, if he were in the wrong and I in
the right."
"I dare say you could, sir, and thank you, sir, for what you say. I
thought you were a brave, kind gentleman when I first saw you, though you
do like to have a bit of a joke at me at times."
"Bit of a joke! That's another matter. But I will never joke again, if
this goes wrong. But are you quite sure that Nelly is in love with you
really, and you with her."
"Why, sir, we have told each other so this hundred times; and I feel as
sure she spoke the truth as God knows I did; and sometimes I think I am a
fool to doubt her now. But you see, sir, she is flattered by the notice
of a grand gentleman. It may be nothing, but, when I talk to her now,
she seems weary like. It is not like what it was in the old days before
you came, sir. We were to be married, sir, so soon as the gentle folk
have left the town, that is about six weeks from to-day; but now I hardly
know what to think. I think one thing one day, and another the next.
Sometimes I think I am jealous about nothing. Sometimes I think he is a
gentleman, and will act as such; and sometimes I think, suppose he should
harm her; and then I feel that if he dared to do it I would throttle
him." Glenville could see the sailor's fists clenching as he spoke, and
he replied, "Hush, Hawkstone, hush! This will all come right. I feel
for you very much, but you must not be violent. I believe it is all
folly, and Barton will forget all about it in a day or two."
"May be, may be, sir; but will she forget so soon? When a woman gets a
thing of this sort into her head it sticks there, sir. There is nothing
to drive it out. He will go off among his fine friends in London, or
wherever it is; but she will be alone here in the little dull town, and
it is mighty dull in the winter, sir."
"You see, Hawkstone, Barton is a friend of mine; and, though I have only
known him a couple of years, I am sure he is a generous, good sort of
fellow, and honest and truthful, though a bit thoughtless and careless. I
am sure he will see his own folly and bad conduct when it is shown to
him. This is a sham love of his. She is a very pretty girl, it is true.
You won't mind my saying that?"
"Say away, sir. I look more to what people mean than what they say."
"Well, no doubt, he has been struck by her beauty; but their positions
are different, and he has only seen her for a week or two. Besides, he
knows that you and she are fond of one another. I believe he is only
idle and thoughtless. If I thought for a moment that he was
contemplating a blackguardly act, he should be no friend of mine, and I
would not only tell him so, but I would give him a good kicking, or look
on with pleasure while you did it. But you must be quiet, Hawkstone, at
present, for you know nothing, and a quarrel would only do you harm all
round."
"It's not so easy to be quiet. The neighbours are beginning to talk,
sir, though they don't let me hear what they say. I can see by their
looks. What business has he to sit beside her on the quay? He is making
a fool of her and of me. I cannot bear it. Sometimes I feel as if I
should go mad. I don't know what those poor creatures in the Bible felt
when they were possessed by the devil, but I believe he comes right into
me when I think of this business." Then he bent over the boat and
covered his face with his arms, and his great broad back heaved up and
down, like a boat on the sea. Glenville left him alone, and puffed away
vigorously at a cigar he was smoking in order to quiet his own feelings,
which had been more excited than he liked.
After a few minutes, Hawkstone raised his head as if from a sleep, and
suddenly exclaimed, "Hey, sir! The wind and the sea have not been idle
while we have been talking. We must be sharp now. Shout to your
friends, sir. I cannot shout just yet, I think."
Glenville shouted as loud as he was able.
"That won't do, I'm afeard," said Hawkstone, and he gave a loud halloo,
which rang from cliff to cliff, and brought out a cloud of gulls, sailing
round and round for a while in great commotion, but soon disappearing
into the cliffs again.
We were most of us already descending when we heard Hawkstone's voice;
the boat was soon ready; but where were Thornton and his lady love? After
waiting a while, Hawkstone shouting more than once, it was proposed that
someone should go in search for them. Hawkstone was getting very
impatient, and warned us we should have a hard struggle to get home
again.
"It will be a bad job if we cannot get round the point," cried he, "for
then we shall have to land in the bay, and although there will be no
danger if we get off soon, yet the ladies will get a wetting, and maybe
the boat will be damaged. We shall just get a little water going out,
for the surf is running in strong."
"It is very wonderful," said Mrs. Bagshaw, "how suddenly the wind rises
on this coast, and the waves answer to the lash like wild colts. The
change from calm to storm is most remarkable."
"Very," thought I to myself, when I called to mind the sudden changes of
temper which I had noticed in her.
"What can that duffer Thornton be about all this long time?" asked
Barton.
Mrs. Bagshaw and I exchanged glances. "I am not sure," said she to me,
"that I have not been doing a very imprudent thing in letting them land."
It was full ten minutes after the arrival of the rest of the party before
Thornton and Florence made their appearance, looking very confused and
awkward. Glenville preceded them, shouting and laughing. "Here they
are, caught at last, and apparently quite pleased at keeping us all
waiting, and quite unable to give any account of what they have been
doing. One little fern has fallen before their united efforts in the
space of half an hour or more. Hawkstone says he'll be shot if he lends
you his boat to go a row in another time. Don't you, Hawkstone?"
"No, sir, I didn't say that. If a gentleman and a lady like to loiter on
the hill it's nothing to a poor boatman how long they stay, leastways
wind and weather permitting, as the packet says."
Hawkstone pushed us off through the surf, and it was no easy matter, and,
I daresay, required some judgment and presence of mind to seize the right
moment between the breaking of the great waves. With all his skill we
managed to ship a little water, amid the laughing shrieks of the ladies
and the boisterous shouts of "two" and "three," who got some of the water
down their backs. We were soon under weigh, however, and tugging
manfully on, occasionally missing a stroke when the boat lurched on a
great wave, and making but slow progress. Fortunately we had not far to
go before we arrived opposite to the parade, where a small crowd of
people was watching our movements with great interest, and the pocket
handkerchiefs again fluttered from the land. The signals, however, met
with no response from us. Tug as we would, we seemed to make very little
way, notwithstanding Hawkstone's "Well rowed, gentlemen, she's moving
fast. We shall do it yet."
The waves were now running high, white crested, and with a long, wide
sweep in them. We were forced to steer close to the rocks at the point
in order to keep as much as possible out of the tide, which was running
so strongly a few yards from the land that we never could have made any
way against it there. As it was I could see that for many seconds we did
not open a single point of rock, and it was all we could do to keep the
boat from dropping astern. Just as I was beginning to despair of ever
getting back in safety, and was aware that my wind was going, and that
both arms and legs were on the point of giving way, a loud shout from
Hawkstone alarmed us all. He jumped up, shouting, "Row hard on the bow
side, ease off on the stroke," and in a moment (how he got from the bows
I shall never know!) we saw him seated behind the stern-board with the
tiller in his hand. The boat shot round, shipping a heavy sea, and we
were at one moment within a yard of the rock underneath the parade. "Row
hard, all!" was soon the cry, and away we shot before wind and tide in
the opposite direction to that in which we had been going. Again we
heard Hawkstone's voice, "Steady, keep steady. There's nothing to fear.
We can run her into the bay!" Nothing to fear! But there had been. One
moment of delay, and we should have been dashed on the rocks. I do not
know why it was, but the waves now seemed gigantic. Perhaps excitement
or fear made them seem larger, or perhaps the change in the direction of
the course of the boat had that effect. Certainly they now seemed to
rear their white crests high above us, and to menace us with their huge
forms. The roar of the breakers upon the beach added to the excitement
of the scene. The ladies sat pale and silent. I believe all would have
gone well, but at the most exigent moment, when we were riding on the
surf which was to land us, "bow" and "three" missed their strokes and
fell into the bottom of the boat; and, amid great confusion, the boat
swerved round; and, a great wave striking her upon her broadside, she
upset, and rolled the whole party over and over into about three feet of
water. All scrambled as well as they could to the shore; but in a moment
we saw with dismay that one of the ladies was floating away on the
retreating wave, and Thornton was plunging after the helpless form.
Meanwhile the party on the parade had rushed frantically round to the
bay, shouting and screaming as they came.
"Where's the life-buoy?" shouted Captain O'Brien vaguely.
"Fetch the life-boat!" cried Captain Kelly, in a voice of command,
although there was no one to fetch it, and, for aught he knew, the
nearest was in London. The two Misses Bankes screamed at intervals like
minute guns. Mr. and Mrs. Delamere and their younger daughter looked on
in speechless agony. The young artist, like a sensible fellow, seized up
a coil of rope and dragged it towards the sea. The colonel embraced Mrs.
Bagshaw before the multitude.
"She will be drowned!" cried one.
"She is saved!" cried another.
"He has caught her, thank God! Well done!" shrieked a third.
Thornton had reached Florence, and was endeavouring to stagger back with
her in his arms; but the waves were too strong for him, and they both
fell, and were lost to sight in an enormous breaker, while everyone held
their breath. As the wave dispersed three forms could be seen struggling
forwards; and, amid the wildest cheers and excitement Hawkstone rolled
Thornton and his lady love upon the sand, and then threw himself on his
back quite out of breath.
Florence neither heard nor saw anything for some time. Captain Kelly
suggested water as being the best restorative under the circumstances.
Porkington wished he had not forgotten his brandy flask. The doctor's
son thought of bleeding, and played with a little pocket-knife in a
suggestive fashion. On a sudden Glenville, who always had his wits about
him, discovered the Drag seated on a rock in a state of helpless terror,
and smelling at a bottle of aromatic vinegar as though her life was in
danger. "Lend that to me--quick, Miss Candlish!" he cried, and seized
the bottle. The Drag struggled to keep possession of it, but in vain,
and then fainted away. The young lady soon recovered sufficiently under
the influence of the smelling bottle to walk home with the assistance of
Thornton and Mrs. Delamere. The rest of the party began to separate amid
much talking and laughter; for as soon as the danger was passed the whole
thing seemed to be a joke; and we had so much to talk of, that we hardly
noticed how we got away. But on looking back I observed that the young
artist brought up the rear with Miss Bagshaw, and was evidently being
most attentive. Hawkstone received everybody's thanks and praise in a
simple, good-humoured way, and proceeded to fasten up the boat out of
reach of the tide.