A STRANGE SAIL.
“What is it, Justin? Oh, dear brother, what is it?” eagerly inquired
Miss Conyers, almost losing her presence of mind in the vehemence of her
anxiety.
“It is a sail—a strange sail! Compose yourself, dear Britomarte,”
answered Mr. Rosenthal, without removing his eye from the glass.
“A sail!” she repeated, breathlessly.
“Yes, dear!”
“Oh, Justin!”
“It stands in toward the island.”
“She sees our signal!”
“No, I think not, unless the captain’s glass is better than mine; for
with mine I cannot make out her colors yet, and our signal is no more
conspicuous.”
“Are you sure she is coming in here?”
“Yes.”
“But why, unless she sees our signal?”
“She has been driven out of her course by the gale of yesterday; but
probably she has safely outridden the storm. She may be coming hither in
search of fresh water or wood.”
“Oh! Justin, if she should strike that sunken reef of rocks as our poor
ship did?”
“She will not do so, dear! She is steering clear of the rocks and for
that little cove to leeward of them.”
“Oh! Justin, Justin, then she will surely anchor there. And we—we shall
be rescued! Oh! we shall see our fellow-beings and our native land
again! The thought makes me reel with joy and—suspense!” exclaimed Miss
Conyers, really growing dizzy with emotion, and clasping the flagstaff
for support.
“Dear sister, calm yourself.”
“Ah! how can I? Our case seemed so hopeless! and now the thought that we
shall be rescued and taken back to our native country overwhelms me! Oh,
to leave this! to go home! it is like bursting the bonds of the grave,
and rising from death to life! To go home!—to go home! Oh, Justin, does
she draw near? Are you sure that she does not turn her head to steer
away again?”
“Sure.”
“At what rate does she seem to sail? Is she making rapid progress?”
persisted Britomarte.
“She is making very rapid progress, though I cannot tell you at how many
knots an hour she is sailing. There! I can see her colors now.”
“You can! What are they? English? Dutch?”
“I think they are our own Stars and Stripes—the most beautiful national
colors that fly!”
“Oh, Justin—Oh, Justin! Our own dear Star-Spangled Banner! That would be
too much joy!”
“I think it is our flag. I am not sure, because I cannot yet see very
distinctly. I think it is, because I see the red and the white; but I
cannot make out the blue field with the white stars.”
“That would not be so conspicuous against a background of blue white and
white foam; but you will see the whole presently,” said Miss Conyers.
Justin continued to gaze through his telescope at the stranger for a few
minutes longer, and then he spoke:
“Britomarte!”
“Yes, Justin.”
“They are not the Stars and Stripes.”
“Oh, Justin! I am so sorry! But then we ought to be glad and grateful
for any flag that should come to our rescue. What is it, then, Justin?
The Union Jack; that would be the next best thing.”
“No; it is not the Union Jack.”
“What is it, then? Can’t you speak and tell us, dear Justin?” said
Britomarte, a little impatiently.
“The truth is that I myself don’t know! I thought I was familiar with
the colors of all nations, but I cannot make these out at all!”
“How strange. What are they like?”
“Like bars—red, white and red. I do not recollect them as the colors of
any nation on the face of the earth!”
“Nonsense! You have forgotten! Let me look, Justin. I am familiar with
the flags of all nations,” said Britomarte, impatiently.
He adjusted the telescope for her sight, and she took a long and silent
view.
“What do you make of the flag?” inquired Justin, with good-humored
sarcasm.
“Red—white—red! I can make nothing of it whatever. I never saw it
before.”
“Judith, you are an old salt, and have seen many a strange flag in the
ports where you have stopped in your voyages to and from India. Take a
look at this one, and tell us if you ever saw it before,” said Justin,
as Britomarte retired from the telescope.
“Sure and so I will. Faix, if it was the flag iv purgatory itself, with
Ould Nick at the helm, I’d be glad to hail it, so I would, if it would
take us offen this baste iv an island,” said Judith, taking her place at
the telescope and “sighting” the object.
“Well, can you make the flag out?” inquired Justin.
“Devil a bit. I niver saw the likes iv it before in all the days iv me
life. Sure and I’m thinking it must be a pirate or a fraybooter,” said
Judith.
“You may be right, Judith! though Heaven forbid you should be!” answered
Mr. Rosenthal.
“Justin!” exclaimed Britomarte, who now replaced Judith at the
glass—“Justin, she must be a pirate! She carries guns! I see them!”
“I know she carries guns; but it does not follow from that circumstance
that she is a pirate. She may be an armed merchantman.”
“Sailing under no recognized flag, Justin? Would not an armed
merchantman sail under the colors of her country?”
“Most likely.”
“And if this should be a pirate!”
“Yes, if she should! The contingency is not a pleasant one. Judith, we
must go down the mountain, my good girl, and hide all the animals in the
holes of the rocks; for, if this strange sail should prove to be a
pirate coming here in search of wood and water, she would be sure to
make very free with all our stores, and especially with the beasts!”
said Justin, uneasily.
“Troth would she! And sure if the crew was hungry for fresh beef itself,
they’d kill and ate Crummie, the crayture in less time nor I could milk
her, so they would!” said the Irish girl.
“Come, let us go!” urged Justin, taking up his telescope.
The three turned their steps down the mountain side, and employed the
next hour in driving the animals into the caverns at the base of the
mountain; and closing up the openings to these caverns, not with
boards—which would have attracted attention—but with green brushwood,
arranged in such a way as to seem a part of the natural thicket that
clothed the mountain side.
When this was done, they went to Britomarte’s grotto, and concealed as
many of the most valuable articles there as they could find a hiding
place for.
Then they walked down to the beach in the direction from which they
expected to see the strange ship. They had no need to use their
telescope now. As soon as they reached the sands they saw the ship at
anchor in the little cove, while from her masthead flew the strange
flag.
While they gazed, a boat put off from the ship and rowed rapidly toward
the shore.
In ten minutes it touched the sands.
The six oarsmen laid on their oars; and the one officer, in a uniform as
strange as his flag, stood up in the bows and lifted his hat in
courteous salutation to the islanders.
“I had not expected to find civilized people in this outlandish place,”
he said, in English, to Justin, who came forward to meet him.
“You are welcome,” said Justin, offering his hand.
“I had no idea that there was a European colony here! What is
it—English?” inquired the stranger, stepping on the shore, and again
lifting his hat and bowing politely to the women.
“There is no colony. We are not colonists. We were cast away on this
island nearly two years ago,” said Justin.
“Cast away!” echoed the stranger, recoiling in dismay.
“Yes. We were passengers in the East Indiaman, _Sultana_, bound from
Boston to Calcutta, and which was wrecked upon these rocks below.”
“And so that was the fate of the missing _Sultana_!” said the stranger,
gravely.
“That was her fate,” repeated Justin.
“Were any of her crew or passengers saved besides yourselves?”
“We cannot tell! They took to the lifeboats! The first boat that left
the ship sailed for the open sea, and we never heard of her fate. The
second one attempted to reach the land, and was swamped. This lady and
her companion were in that second boat when it went down. They were
saved by means of the life-preservers that had been fastened round their
waists. They were thrown on shore by the waves. The remainder of their
boat’s crew perished, I fear.”
“And yourself?”
“The captain and myself were left on the wreck. The captain was washed
overboard by a great wave. I escaped only by clinging fast to the
shrouds of the mizzen mast, which was above water. When the sea went
down, I managed to reach the shore over that reef of rocks, at the end
of which our ship had struck.”
“And where our ship had very nearly been lost in the late tempest! You
have been here nearly two years, you say. Good Heavens! how have you
subsisted?”
“Partly by the natural productions of the island,” said Justin,
evasively.
“And how have you got on with the natives?”
“There are no natives except beasts, birds, reptiles and insects.”
“Then the island is uninhabited?”
“By man? Yes, except ourselves.”
“And you have been here nearly two years. Heavens! And in all that time
seen no ship from home?”
“No ship from anywhere! I think this island is out of the usual course
of ships.”
“Yes, we were driven far out of our course, and clean out of our
reckoning, before we saw it! Two years! And yet the dress of the young
lady and her attendant is just as neat as though fresh from the hand of
the laundress,” said the stranger, incredulously.
“We managed to save a few necessaries from the wreck, and clothing,
soap, starch, and flatirons were among them,” Justin explained with a
laugh.
“Humph! nearly two years on this desert island, without news of the
world outside! Without telegrams, letters, or newspapers! How, in
Heaven’s name, have you managed to endure life?”
“Indifferently well! Do we look as though we suffered from ill health,
or low spirits?” inquired Justin.
“No, that you don’t! But your Eden has an Eve! Oh! that the desert were
my dwelling place, with one fair spirit for my minister! You have two!
Happy man! The _Sea Scourge_ has not one!”
“The _Sea Scourge_,” echoed Justin.
“My ship out there, of which I am the captain, at your service!”
Justin bowed and then said:
“My name is Rosenthal. If you will give me yours I will present you to
the lady.”
“My name is Spear, for want of a better.”
“Miss Conyers,” said Justin, stepping a few paces towards Britomarte,
“Captain Spear, of the _Sea Scourge_.”
Captain Spear bowed very low. Miss Conyers bent slightly and then looked
up, to see before her a tall, broad-shouldered, stalwart man, of about
forty years of age, with prominent features, red hair and beard, and
sun-burnt complexion.
“And the young woman with the damask-rose cheeks?” inquired the captain,
indicating the Irish girl.
“Her name is Judith Riordan. She is Miss Conyers’ attendant,” said
Justin, coldly.
Notwithstanding which, Captain Spear turned, and honored the maid with a
deep bow as he had bestowed upon the mistress, and a bold stare of
admiration into the bargain.
Judith turned away, hugely affronted, growling:
“Bedad ye nadent be thrying to come yer comether over the likes if me,
so ye nadent! Mesself don’t like the looks iv ye.”
Captain Spear turned with a smile to Miss Conyers, saying:
“I hope you do not share your companion’s antipathy?”
“If I did,” said Miss Conyers, “I should not show it to a stranger who
comes among us, perhaps seeking relief for his own necessities; perhaps
to rescue us from our exile.”
The captain bowed, and then said:
“Mr.—Rosenfeldt—is not that the name?”
“Rosenthal,” corrected Britomarte.
“Mr. Rosenthal tells me that you have been on this lone island nearly
two years; and in all this time have had no news of your native land.”
“It is quite true.”
“You must have suffered intense anxiety.”
“No; I left no near relatives in my native land to mourn for me. I had
one or two school friends; but they were too happily situated and too
well cared for long to lament my unknown fate.”
“And you, Mr.—Rosenthal—am I right?” said the captain, turning to
Justin.
“Lord kape yer!” impatiently interrupted Judith—“hev ye got no mimory at
all, at all? or are ye afther dhrinking itself, that ye can’t remimber a
gintleman’s name, when yer afther hearing it so often! It’s Rosenthal,
sure—thal, thal, thal! There! twist that round yer tongue, and lave off
staring at me as if ye’d ate me!”
The captain of the _Sea Scourge_ laughed, and once more turned to
Justin, saying:
“Mr. Rosenthal, how have you borne this long separation from home and
friends, and this utter lack of news from the world outside, for nearly
two years?”
“As I hinted before, neither my health nor spirits have suffered
materially. I left a venerated father and a beloved sister and many
friends. I know that my father and sister have mourned me as dead; and
that they continue to remember me with affection; but I also know that
religion and time have combined to soothe their sorrows and regrets. As
for the world from which I am separated, I feel that the Lord took very
good care of it before I was born into it, and can continue to take very
good care of it now that I am exiled from it!”
“Mr. Rosenthal, you are a philosopher.”
“Nevertheless, I shall be very glad to get back, with my companions in
misfortune, to our native country,” said Justin.
“And it will confer upon myself more happiness than I ever received in
my life to take you all back,” said the captain, earnestly.
“Thanks! I can well believe it,” replied Justin, warmly.
“Troth, maybe he’s not so bad as he looks,” muttered Judith to herself.
Britomarte studied him with more attention than before. It was strange,
but he impressed the islanders in opposite ways; for while his
appearance excited suspicion, his manners inspired confidence—except,
perhaps, in the single instance of his bold stare at poor Judith.
“Will you——” began Justin, but before proceeding with his sentence he
went up to Britomarte and spoke apart to her, asking her permission to
invite these strangers to the grotto. She gave it readily; and then
Justin stepped back to Captain Spear and said:
“Will you do us the honor to come up to our home and take lunch?”
“Thanks—willingly. I should like to see what sort of a home you have
contrived to provide on this Desert Isle,” said the captain.
“And your boat’s crew? Can they not leave their boat to accompany us?”
“By no means! I will not so far trespass on your kindness or the young
lady’s forbearance.”
“Oh!” said Britomarte, earnestly, “believe me that neither Mr. Rosenthal
nor myself would consider it a trespass. It has been so long, so long,
since we have seen any other human faces than our own, that we are more
than delighted to welcome you and your whole crew.”
“Thanks, young lady. With your kind permission, then, I will call the
men off.”
So saying, the captain walked a few paces toward the boat, and called:
“Here, Mulligan! Secure the boat, and you and your mates come off and
follow us.”
Then he came back to where Justin and Britomarte stood, and said that he
was ready to accompany them.