THE STORM
When Uncle William Minturn came in from the city that evening he had
some mysterious news. Everybody guessed it was about Nellie, but as
surprises were always cropping up at Ocean Cliff, the news was kept
secret and the whispering increased.
"I had hard work to get her to come," said Uncle William to
Mrs. Bobbsey, still guarding the mystery, "but I finally prevailed
upon her and she will be down on the morning train."
"Poor woman, I am sure it will do her good," remarked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Your house has been a regular hotel this summer," she said to
Mr. Minturn.
"That's what we are here for," he replied. "We would not have much
pleasure, I am sure, if our friends were not around us."
"Did you hear anything more about the last vessel?" asked Aunt Emily.
"Yes, I went down to the general office today, and an incoming steamer
was sure it was the West Indies vessel that was sighted four days
ago."
"Then they should be near port now?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"They ought to be," replied Uncle William, "but the cargo is so heavy,
and the schooner such a very slow sailer, that it takes a long time to
cover the distance."
Next morning, bright and early, Dorothy had the donkeys in harness.
"We are going to the station to meet some friends, Nellie," she said.
"Come along?"
"What! More company?" exclaimed Nellie. "I really ought to go home.
I am well and strong now."
"Indeed you can't go until we let you," said Dorothy, laughing. "I
suppose you think all the fun went with Harry," she added, teasingly,
for Dorothy knew Nellie had been acting lonely ever since the
carnival. She was surely homesick to see her mother and talk about
the big prize.
The two girls had not long to wait at the station, for the train
pulled in just as they reached the platform. Dorothy looked about a
little uneasily.
"We must watch for a lady in a linen suit with black hat," she said to
Nellie; "she's a stranger."
That very minute the linen suit appeared.
"Oh, oh!" screamed Nellie, unable to get her words. "There is my
mother!" and the next thing Dorothy knew, Nellie was trying to "wear
the same linen dress" that the stranger appeared in--at least, that
was how Dorothy afterwards told about Nellie's meeting with her
mother.
"My daughter!" exclaimed the lady, "I have been so lonely I came to
bring you home."
"And this is Dorothy," said Nellie, recovering herself. "Dorothy is
my best friend, next to Nan."
"You have surely been among good friends," declared the mother, "for
you have gotten the roses back in your cheeks again. How well you do
look!"
"Oh, I've had a perfectly fine time," declared Nellie.
"Fine and dandy," repeated Dorothy, unable to restrain her fun-making
spirit.
At a glance Dorothy saw why Nellie, although poor, was so genteel, for
her mother was one of those fine-featured women that seem especially
fitted to say gentle things to children.
Mrs. McLaughlin was not old,--no older than Nan's mother,--and she had
that wonderful wealth of brown hair, just like Nellie's. Her eyes
were brown, too, while Nellie's were blue, but otherwise Nellie was
much like her mother, so people said.
Aunt Emily and Mrs. Bobbsey had visited Mrs. McLaughlin in the city,
so that they were quite well acquainted when the donkey cart drove up,
and they all had a laugh over the surprise to Nellie. Of course that
was Uncle William's secret, and the mystery of the whispering the
evening before.
"But we must go back on the afternoon train," insisted
Mrs. McLaughlin, who had really only come down to the shore to bring
Nellie home.
"Indeed, no," objected Aunt Emily, "that would be too much traveling
in one day. You may go early in the morning."
"Everybody is going home," sighed Dorothy. "I suppose you will be the
next to go, Nan," and she looked quite lonely at the prospect.
"We are going to have a big storm," declared Susan, who had just come
in from the village. "We have had a long dry spell, now we are going
to make up for it."
"Dear me," sighed Mrs. McLaughlin, "I wish we had started for home."
"Oh, there's lots of fun here in a storm," laughed Dorothy. "The
ocean always tries to lick up the whole place, but it has to be
satisfied with pulling down pavilions and piers. Last year the water
really went higher than the gas lights along the boulevard."
"Then that must mean an awful storm at sea," reflected Nellie's
mother. "Storms are bad enough on land, but at sea they must be
dreadful!" And she looked out toward the wild ocean, that was keeping
from her the fate of her husband.
Long before there were close signs of storm, life-guards, on the
beach, were preparing for it. They were making fast everything that
could be secured and at the life-saving station all possible
preparations were being made to help those who might suffer from the
storm.
It was nearing September and a tidal wave had swept over the southern
ports. Coming in all the way from the tropics the storm had made
itself felt over a great part of the world, in some places taking the
shape of a hurricane.
On this particular afternoon, while the sun still shone brightly over
Sunset Beach, the storm was creeping in under the big waves that
dashed up on the sands.
"It is not safe to let go the ropes," the guards told the people, but
the idea of a storm, from such a pretty sky, made some daring enough
to disobey these orders. The result was that the guards were kept
busy trying to bring girls and women to their feet, who were being
dashed around by the excited waves.
This work occupied the entire afternoon, and as soon as the crowd left
the beach the life-guards brought the boats down to the edge, got
their lines ready, and when dark came on, they were prepared for the
life-patrol,--the long dreary watch of the night, so near the noisy
waves, and so far from the voice of distress that might call over the
breakers to the safe shores, where the life-savers waited, watched,
and listened.
The rain began to fall before it was entirely dark. The lurid sunset,
glaring through the dark and rain, gave an awful, yellow look to the
land and sea alike.
"It is like the end of the world," whispered Nellie to Nan, as the two
girls looked out of the window to see the wild storm approaching.
Then the lightning came in blazing blades, cutting through the
gathering clouds.
The thunder was only like muffled rolls, for the fury of the ocean
deadened every other sound of heaven or earth.
"It will be a dreadful storm," said Aunt Emily to Mrs. Bobbsey. "We
must all go into the sitting room and pray for the sailors."
Everyone in the house assembled in the large sitting room, and Uncle
William led the prayers. Poor Mrs. McLaughlin did not once raise her
head. Nellie, too, hid her pale face in her hands.
Dorothy was frightened, and when all were saying good-night she
pressed a kiss on Nellie's cheek, and told her that the life-savers on
Sunset Beach would surely be able to save all the sailors that came
that way during the big storm.
Nellie and her mother occupied the same room. Of course the mother
had been told that the long delayed boat had been sighted, and now,
how anxiously she awaited more news of Nellie's father.
"We must not worry," she told Nellie, "for who knows but the storm may
really help father's boat to get into port?"
So, while the waves lashed furiously upon Sunset Beach, all the people
in the Minturn cottage were sleeping, or trying to sleep, for, indeed,
it was not easy to rest when there was so much danger at their very
door.