GRACE MONTAGUE.
Little Bobtail was not making any headway with his burden. The waves
threw him back until his feet touched the wall of rocks. He had
struggled and labored, and Miss Grace had struggled and labored, as if
intent upon defeating his beneficent efforts, until his strength was
nearly exhausted. But he treated himself as he did a boat in heavy
weather; he kept his head to the sea, well knowing that if he got into
the trough, the waves would roll him over, and render him helpless. When
his feet touched the rock, he "shoved off" vigorously. Fortunately for
him, the young lady in his grasp was even more exhausted than he was,
and by this time she was content to keep reasonably quiet. Bobtail only
endeavored to keep her head out of the water, which he was not always
able to do when the great waves surged in upon him. He no longer
attempted to make any headway, but by occasionally pushing his feet
against the rocks he saved himself from being disabled against them.
One of the gentlemen on the island had shouted to the boatmen to pull
around to the little bay. The sailors, thrilled by the screams of Mrs.
Montague, were straining every muscle, and their oars bent like reeds
before their vigorous strokes. The other boat, with Colonel Montague in
the stern-sheets, was also hastening to the spot, the half frantic
father urging the men forward with wild gestures. On the rock above, the
party watched the struggling swimmer as he bravely supported his
helpless burden.
Two of the ladies held the agonized mother, to prevent her from leaping
over the cliff. The gentlemen were shouting to the men in the boat to
hasten their speed, for there was nothing else they could do. Bobtail
saw the boat, and heard the rapid thumps of the oars in the rowlocks.
The sight and the sound inspired him with new courage. He had ceased to
struggle any more than was necessary to keep his distance from the rock.
"Hold on a few seconds more," shouted one of the gentlemen on the rock
above.
[Illustration]
Bobtail tried to speak, but he could not, though he felt that for a
short time longer he was master of the situation.
"Way enough!" said one of the men in the boat. "Toss him an oar, Bill."
The stroke oarsman threw one of his oars to Bobtail, who grasped it, and
supported himself with it.
"Back her," said the man in the bow, as he reached forward, and seized
one of Miss Grace's arms, while the other man kept the boat in position
with his oars.
The stout sailor lifted the young lady into the boat, and Bobtail laid
hold of the bow with his released hand. A shout of joy rose from the
rock when Grace was safely drawn into the boat.
"Back her!" gasped Little Bobtail, still clinging to the bow with one
hand, while he held the oar with the other.
Grace was exhausted and panting violently, but she was not insensible.
She was even able to sit up; and when the boat had backed clear of the
rocks, she was placed on the velvet cushions at the stern. In another
moment the second boat dashed alongside, and Colonel Montague leaped
into the stern-sheets, and folded his daughter in his arms. He wiped
the salt water from her face, and did all he could to improve her
situation.
"Pull for the yacht!" said he, nervously.
All this time Bobtail had been clinging to the bow of the barge,
recovering his breath. The sailor assisted him into the boat, and he
dropped down into the fore-sheets, breathing heavily from exhaustion.
The stroke-oarsman picked up his oar, and the two men pulled with all
their might for the yacht, while the other boat went around to the
landing-place on Blank Island to bring off the party there.
"How do you feel, Grace?" asked Colonel Montague, as he laid his
daughter's head upon his breast.
"Better, father," she replied, faintly. "I'm cold."
"Give way, lively, my lads," added the colonel, to whom minutes seemed
like hours.
When the barge came alongside the accommodation-steps, Colonel Montague
bore Grace in his arms to the deck of the Penobscot.
"Let me sit down here in the sun, father," said she.
"But you must remove your wet clothes."
"Not yet. Let me rest a few moments. I shall be all well in a little
while."
"What's the matter, Edward?" asked the Hon. Mr. Montague, who had
remained on board of the Penobscot, being too old to scramble about the
rocks.
"I have been overboard, grandfather," replied Grace, with a faint smile;
and it was evident that her condition was rapidly improving.
"Overboard, child!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "How did it happen?"
"I don't know. I was not with her," replied the colonel. "But where is
that boy?"
"That boy" has just come on deck, and had seated himself in the waist.
He had recovered his wind, and was now nearly as good as new. He felt
that he had done a big thing, and he wondered that no one said anything
to him. The boat that brought him to the yacht had gone for the party
which had been left on the island; and no one but the colonel knew
anything about the part he had borne in the affair. But he was not long
neglected, for the instant Colonel Montague thought of him he hastened
to the waist, and with tears in his eyes, grasped him by the hand.
Doubtless he betrayed more emotion than the occasion seemed to
warrant--emotion which was not all gratitude.
"My lad, you have done me a service which I can never forget," said he,
wiping the tears from his eyes.
"It's all right, sir. I feel better than if I hadn't done it," replied
Bobtail.
"But come aft, and see Grace," added the colonel.
"No, sir, I think I won't bother her now. She must feel pretty bad after
the ducking she got."
Just at this moment the barge from Blank Island dashed up to the steps.
Mrs. Montague was a demonstrative woman, and she had not even yet ceased
to scream.
"O, where is she? where is she, Edward?" cried the poor mother, as she
rose in the stern of the boat.
"Here I am, mother," exclaimed Grace, hastening to the rail on the
quarter-deck. "I am not drowned or hurt."
Mrs. Montague was assisted up the steps, and in another moment she was
sobbing over her child in her arms. While this scene was transpiring on
the quarter-deck, the rest of the party went to Little Bobtail, and took
him by the hand, as they expressed their admiration of his heroic
conduct.
"That wan't anything," replied Bobtail. "I have dived off that rock
twenty times before."
"But Grace would have drowned if you hadn't done it."
"Well, I don't know. I suppose, if I hadn't gone for her, some of the
rest of you would."
"I don't know about that," said one of them, shaking his head. "I might
have gone into the water, but I couldn't have done much."
Mrs. Montague hurried Grace into the cabin as soon as the violence of
her emotions had in a measure subsided.
"But I haven't seen Captain Bobtail yet," said the daughter.
"You shall see him; but you must take off your wet clothes first,"
replied her mother.
"Not yet, mother. I must see him this instant. Tell him to come down
here."
"I'll go for him," said Emily Walker, as she rushed up the
companion-way.
Perhaps Miss Walker was more sentimental than Miss Montague; at any
rate, she flew to the spot where Bobtail was seated, threw her arms
around his neck, and actually kissed him before he had a chance to repel
the assault, if he desired to do so.
"What a dear, good fellow you are!" exclaimed she. "But you must come
right down into the cabin this instant. Grace wants to see you."
"I'm all wet, and I guess I won't go down now," replied Bobtail,
blushing like a red cabbage in the dews of the morning.
"But you must come. Grace is dying to see you;" and Miss Walker took him
by the arm, and tugged at it till she dragged him to his feet.
"I don't like to go down into the cabin. I haven't got my coat and shoes
yet."
"Never mind your coat, Mr. Bobtail. Grace won't change her wet clothes
till she sees you."
Of course Miss Walker carried the day, and Little Bobtail was dragged
into the cabin. Grace seized him by both hands, and warmly expressed her
gratitude. Emily wondered that she did not kiss him. If he had saved
her, she would have kissed him twenty times. Mrs. Montague pressed his
hand, and thanked him over and over again. Then Colonel Montague took
his hand again, and expressed himself even more fully than before. The
Hon. Mr. Montague followed him, and every lady and gentleman of the
party took him by the hand, and said something exceedingly handsome; and
Bobtail began to think they were overdoing it.
"But come, my lad; you are in your wet clothes, while we are talking to
you," interposed the colonel. "You must have a dry suit."
"Never mind me, sir. I'm used to it," laughed Bobtail.
"You will catch cold."
"Catch a weasel asleep! I don't catch cold."
Colonel Montague insisted, and the sailing-master lent him a shirt and a
pair of trousers twice too big for him, and Bobtail put himself inside
of them. His bobtail coat and shoes, which had been brought from the
island, were dry, and he was in presentable condition. Grace soon
appeared, her hair nicely dried and dressed anew, wearing a white dress
and a blue sacque. She looked very pretty; but Bobtail thought that
Emily Walker was the prettier of the two. By this time dinner was ready,
and the skipper of the Skylark was invited to dine in the cabin. He did
not exactly like the idea, for he felt that he was not sufficiently
posted in the ways of genteel society to sit at the table with such
grand people.
"I'll take my grub with the hands forward, sir," said he, laughing. "I
shall feel more at home with them."
"But we shall not feel at home without you, my lad," replied Colonel
Montague. "Besides, when everybody gets cooled off, we want to talk over
the affair on the island, for I haven't even heard how Grace happened to
be in the water."
The owner of the Penobscot would not "let him up," as Bobtail expressed
it when he told his mother the story, and he was placed at the table
between Grace and Emily Walker. Chowder was served first. Bobtail kept
his "weather eye" open to see how the rest of the party did, and
adjusted his conduct by theirs. He wondered what "those towels were
stuck into the tumblers for;" but when little Miss Walker unrolled her
napkin, and placed it in her lap, and the gentlemen of the party did the
same, he followed their example.
"Now, Grace, tell me how you got overboard," said Colonel Montague, when
the soup plates were removed.
Mrs. Montague shuddered, for the scene was too terrible to be recalled
with anything but anguish.
"Captain Bobtail had just told Emily and me a story about an Indian girl
who jumped off that same cliff; but I didn't believe a word of it,"
Grace began. "I stood up on a stone near the edge, and swung my arms,
for I was thinking just how the Indian girl looked, if she really did
jump off that cliff. Just then mother screamed, and frightened me. I
started back; but the stone I was standing on rolled over, and threw me
forward, so that I went down into the water head first."
"I thought the child was going to jump overboard," added Mrs. Montague,
with a strong tremor passing through her frame.
The details of the affair were repeated, and then all eyes were directed
at Little Bobtail, who was more concerned about the propriety of his
conduct at the table than about his deeds at Blank Island; but probably,
if he had fed himself with his knife, his admiring friends would
cheerfully have forgiven him. He found it more difficult to transfer
mashed potato from his plate to his mouth with the silver fork than it
was to dive off that cliff into the sea. When the pastry came on, it
was absolutely appalling to think of eating custard pie with a fork, and
he would rather have undertaken the feat of swimming around Blank
Island.
"You know I always shovel in custard pie with my knife," said he,
afterwards, in telling his mother about it; "but everybody else used a
fork, and so I had to."
But Bobtail magnified the trials and tribulations of that grand dinner
in the cabin of the Penobscot, for, by keeping his "weather eye" open,
he hardly sinned against any of the proprieties of polite society, and
some of the ladies even remarked how well he behaved for a poor boy. The
dinner was finished at last, and "it was a tip-top dinner, too," for
besides chowder and fried fish, there were roast beef and roast chicken,
boiled salmon, puddings, pies, and ice-cream. Perhaps Bobtail ate too
much for strict gentility, but he excused himself by declaring that not
only the stewards, but all the party, "kept making him eat more of the
fixins."
"When I got through that dinner, mother," said he, "I was just like a
foot-ball blown up for a game; and if the captain's trousers that I
wore hadn't been a mile too big for me, I couldn't have put myself
outside of half that feed."
After the dinner, which Bobtail will remember as long as he lives, the
party went on deck. Grace was as bright and fresh as ever. She and Emily
walked up and down the deck. The young skipper went forward to talk with
the crew, for he did not wish them to think that he was putting on airs
because he "took his grub in the cabin." The men congratulated him on
his good fortune, and assured him he had made a rich and powerful
friend, and that he would get a pile of money by the operation. Bobtail
thought that a hundred dollars was "a pile of money," and, if any one
claimed the Skylark, this sum would enable him to purchase a better boat
than Prince's old tub. But he did not think much about this matter; in
fact, he was gazing at Miss Grace and Miss Emily, as they walked so
gracefully on the deck. He was not sentimental, romantic, or very
visionary; but these two young ladies were so pretty, and so elegant,
and so finely dressed, that he could not help looking at them; besides,
they were as sociable now as he could wish. Bobtail joined them in
their promenade on the deck, and was admitted to the privilege with
distinguished consideration.
"I should like to have you take a sail with me in the Skylark," said he.
"O, I should like to go ever so much," replied Miss Walker.
"And if you get overboard, I will pull you out."
"I don't mean to get overboard, if I can help it," laughed the little
miss, though, from her conversation with Grace, one would have thought
she considered it rather a nice thing, if she could only be rescued by a
young gentleman.
"You must sail up to Belfast, Captain Bobtail, and come to our house,"
added Grace. "I have lots of things to show you. We have ever so many
boats; and you may ride my pony."
"Thank you, Miss Montague. You are very kind; but you know I'm not one
of the grand folks, and I shouldn't know how to behave myself in your
fine parlors."
"Pooh! You behave just as well as any of the young men that come to our
house," said Grace, pouting her lips. "You are just as good as any of
them, and a great deal better than most of them. I hope you will come,
Captain Bobtail; I shall be so glad to see you!"
The order was given to get up the anchor, and Bobtail sprang to take a
hand in the operation. In a few moments the Penobscot was standing over
towards Camden; and the hero of the day began to regret that he must so
soon lose his pleasant companions. About five o'clock she landed her
passengers at the Portland Wharf, and Monkey came off from the Skylark
for Bobtail.
"Little Bobtail, you have rendered me a service to-day which you can
neither understand nor appreciate, and I shall never forget it," said
Colonel Montague, as he took the boy's hand. "I shall see you again
before long. I am going away in the yacht next week for a long cruise;
but we shall meet again, and I hope in the end that you will not be
sorry for your noble conduct to-day."
"I'm not sorry for it, sir. I've had a tip-top time to-day, and I'm much
obliged to you for taking me with you," replied Bobtail, unable to
comprehend the whole of the grateful father's speech.
"It is fortunate you were with us. We might have been weeping over our
lost child, instead of rejoicing, as we do now."
"O, some other fellow would have gone in for her if I hadn't."
"Perhaps not; for not many have the nerve to dive off a high cliff into
the sea, as you did. Be that as it may, my gratitude to you is none the
less. If you want a friend, if you have any trouble about that boat, or
anything else, send for me, for I would cross the continent to serve
you."
"Thank you, sir. I don't know that I am likely to have any trouble about
the Skylark, for if the owner comes, he can have her."
"And then you will have no boat?"
"No, sir. I shall be out of a boat, sure; and I should like to live in
one all the time."
"If you lose her before I return, write a letter to me at Belfast, and
it will be forwarded if I have gone. Now, good by, my lad."
The rest of the family shook hands with him again, and spoke many kind
words to him. Bobtail leaped lightly into Monkey's boat, and they
returned to the Skylark. The skipper spoke in glowing terms of the
experience of the day; but somehow the Darwinian did not seem to relish
the narrative. He was nervous, and did not laugh as usual; but it was
some time before Bobtail's enthusiasm permitted him to notice the change
which had come over his companion's spirits. They went on board the
Skylark.
"Has any one been after the boat, Monkey?" asked the skipper.
"No one after the boat," replied the Darwinian, gloomily; "but somebody
has been after you."
"After me? Who?"
Monkey was silent, and studied the seams in the deck.
"Who has been after me?"
"Mr. Brooks."
This gentleman was a deputy sheriff; but his name had no terror to
Robert Taylor.
"Say, Bob, don't you think we had better get under way, and run for it?"
added Monkey, his face brightening for a moment.
"What for?"
"Mr. Brooks said he had a warrant to take you up, and I s'pose he's on
the lookout for you now."
"Take me up!" exclaimed Bobtail. "What for?"
"Something about a letter--I don't know what."
"I know," replied Bobtail, musing, for he could not think how, after he
had been fully exonerated from the charge of taking that letter, he
should again be accused.
The jib of the Penobscot was hoisted while he was musing, and she stood
away towards the Spindles off North-east Point.