THE WHITE-ROCK COVE AGAIN.
Aleck was a long time getting well. He had to be nursed and taken care
of all through that winter, only gradually making little steps towards
recovery.
It was quite a festival when he was first carried down-stairs; and then
again when he was taken out in the carriage for a drive, lying at full
length upon a sort of couch which we erected for him, and to which he
declared, in my anxiety to make him comfortable, I had contributed all
the sofa cushions in the house.
The subject of the lost ship was forbidden for a long while; and I grew
to thinking of it as a sort of formidable undertaking, though one upon
which I was firmly bent--the confession to Aleck himself of my guilt in
the matter.
But when at last I was permitted to approach the subject, I could only
feel surprised that I had been for so long afraid of it. Aleck received
my confession so quietly, instead of getting angry, and spoke so kindly
and gently, that I could scarcely believe it was the same Aleck whose
look of fiery indignation on that eventful morning of the 20th of
September had so startled me.
In one way, indeed, he was _not_ the same; for the accident, and illness
consequent on it, seemed in some peculiar manner to have rendered him
far more lovable and thoughtful than he had been formerly; a trifle
graver, perhaps--at least I thought so, until, when he grew quite strong
again, his merry laugh would ring out as cheerily as ever--and more
serious in his way of looking at things, but not less happy. That I was
sure of; for all through the long weeks of confinement there was not a
brighter place in the house than the place at the side of his couch--he
was so uniformly cheerful, and seemed so thoroughly to enjoy every
little plan that we were able to form for his amusement.
I told him I was quite surprised that he received my confession so
gently; it would have been so natural if he had got angry. I remember
his answer very well:--
"Why, you see, Willie, it seems quite a little thing to me now. I don't
think I can exactly put what I mean into words; but you know when I
thought I was dying, and eternity seemed quite near, everything else
seemed so little--only, the wrong words I had used to you seemed much
worse than I had thought they could. Old George's words came back to me
so often, about the loss of the ship being a very little thing; whilst
wrong words and angry feelings would appear more terrible than we ever
fancied possible. I was dreadfully frightened until I felt quite sure I
was forgiven. You can't think how glad I was when I got your message."
"I wanted to tell you," I said, "when I came into your room that time;
but I couldn't speak, though I nearly choked in trying to stop crying."
"Well since then," resumed Aleck, "the feeling doesn't seem to have gone
off. I don't mean I don't care for things, because you know I like
everything very much--our games, and the books, and madrepores; but I
feel as if before my accident God and heaven and the Bible were all
being put by, and got ready, for the time when one was old and grown up,
and I've felt so different since then. It was when I felt so frightened
at the thought of what a naughty boy I was, and of all the bad things I
had done, and began to tell Jesus about it--in my heart, you know, for I
couldn't speak--and remembered he was so good and kind he never turned
any one away, and so felt sure he had heard me, that I began to think so
differently."
At this point of Aleck's narration I broke in impetuously with--
"Oh, Aleck! for _you_ to be feeling like that--you, who had only felt
angry--what would you have done if you had been me?" And then I
proceeded, with feelings of unconcealed horror, to tell him of my misery
during the few days succeeding the loss of the boat; the terrible walk
home that morning; the lonely terrors of the nights; and my feelings at
church with that verse always sounding in my ears, "If I regard iniquity
in my heart, the Lord will not hear me."
Before I had finished my story Aleck had got hold of one of my hands,
and was stroking it as if he had been a girl. "You see," I said, "I was
feeling rather like you, only I couldn't know I was forgiven, with that
dreadful sin that no one knew of."
"We had both done wrong," Aleck replied; "it doesn't much signify which
of us was worst. Willie, do you know I want us always to do something
together that we haven't done before."
"What is it?" I inquired.
"I should like us to read a little bit of the Bible together every day,
quite for our own selves; not like a lesson, you know, nor even having
auntie to explain it to us, but just for our own selves, like when I
have one of papa's or mamma's letters to read. I think it would help us
to remember the really great things better, like auntie's text in my
room."
I need scarcely say that the habit--afterwards continued, whenever
practicable, through our school-life--was at once begun. In fact,
Aleck's merest wish was a law to me; for all through the winter months
every opportunity of rendering him any service was hailed with delight.
I could never forget that his weakness and suffering were the result of
my wicked behaviour, and could only comfort myself by doing all that in
me lay to make his confinement as little wearisome as possible. Knowing
his active, restless nature, I could fully appreciate what the trial
must be, even with every alleviation, and often wondered he was able to
bear it so cheerfully.
But when I ventured to express to my cousin these speculations of mine,
he would laugh them off merrily.
"Why, Willie, how can I help being thankful and happy? Not to speak of
uncle and aunt, who seem to be doing something for me every hour of the
day; nor of old George, who toils up every morning to see me, though he
used to tell me that it made his old bones ache--a fact he will never
allow now; nor of Frisk, who sits upon my feet for hours, on purpose to
keep them warm; I should like to know how I could help being cheerful,
with your own dear old self giving up the greater part of your play-time
to chess, or carpentry, or madrepores, and spending every penny of your
pocket-money--No; it's of no use your stopping me to deny it. I've
counted up, and you've spent every penny of your pocket-money--just as I
was saying--in buying books, or tools, or things for me; waiting upon
me, too, as if I were a prince and you my slave. Why, I'm perfectly
afraid of admiring anything you have, lest I should find it done up in a
parcel, and sent to me, like the illustrated copy of 'Robinson Crusoe'
the other day!"
In this sort of grateful spirit, making much of all my little trifling
acts of kindness, Aleck scarcely allowed us to feel that he was
under-going any deprivation during the months that he lay on the sofa.
Once only I remember noticing a little cloud, that vanished again almost
as soon as it appeared. One morning, after lessons were over, I came
running into the study with my Latin exercise.
"Papa, Mr. Glengelly was so pleased with my exercise, he has sent me in
to show it to you."
My father looked over it, reading little bits aloud, and finding with
surprise that, difficult though it was, there were no mistakes. From my
father's table I flew to the sofa on which Aleck was lying, with Frisk
at his feet as usual, the open copy-book in my hand. But in an instant I
could see there was some trouble in my cousin's face.
"Aleck, dear Aleck," I whispered anxiously, "what is it? Have I done
anything?"
"No--nothing at all," replied my cousin with a great effort, and hastily
brushing away his tears. "Let me have a look at it too. I'm ashamed of
myself, Willie. I believe I was making myself unhappy at thinking that I
shall just have gone back as much as you've gone forward. I didn't know
I cared so much for being first in my lessons."
After that I avoided ever talking of my lessons when Aleck was in the
room; but he noticed this, and insisted on introducing the subject,
speaking often to Mr. Glengelly about my progress, and looking over my
exercises from time to time, whilst he would playfully remark that "we
should be about equal when he was allowed to begin lessons again, and
better companions than ever before."
Sometimes he wondered at my getting on so much faster than formerly, not
knowing the spirit of resolve and determination that had grown out of
all the sad time of trouble, when I had found out for the first time
what a poor sinful child I was, and had learned to seek and find for
myself the sure Refuge and Strength--not for times of trouble only, but
for the whole of life's journey.
From the circumstance of my play-time being in great part spent with my
cousin, at least such part of it as was not taken up in rides or drives
with my parents, it came to pass that my visits to the Cove were far
less frequent than they had been at any previous time. But though old
George growled and grumbled at seeing so little of me, he always
encouraged me not to desert my cousin.
Now and then, however, I found my way down the Zig-zag to the lodge, and
it was upon one of these occasions that I unburdened my mind to my old
friend of a desire, which grew and strengthened upon me, in some way to
provide for Aleck a boat which should be quite equal to the one he had
lost. I knew it was worth a great deal more than I should be able to
save in pocket-money, and a vague idea of the possibility of bartering
some of my possessions had been dismissed as impracticable.
To part with the "Fair Alice" without old George's sanction would not be
right, but if he would make no objection, it seemed to me that this
would be on the whole the easiest mode of reparation, and I took him
into consultation on the subject accordingly.
"I know it's your present to me, George," I said, feeling sadly alive to
the delicacy of the request; "but if you'll give me leave, I think it's
the only thing I have that would do to give Aleck. I can't think of any
other way. I know it took you a tremendous time to make, and I care for
it more than for anything. But I would rather give it to Aleck."
Old George chuckled rather provokingly, and seemed to be taken up with
some abstruse calculation. "Well, I won't be against it, Master Aleck,"
he said, "unless--no--I'm not sure--" (the old man seemed to grow quite
composed in his uncertainty), "I think--I may show you." And so saying
he led the way into the work-shop.
I started with surprise--another little schooner-yacht was in course of
construction, precisely similar to the one that had been lost.
"O George, how kind!"
"No; it's not a bit kind," responded George, "for I'm being paid for it.
I meant to have done it without, but your papa, sir, has insisted upon
it being his order, and I've been obliged to cave in."
It was to be a secret from Aleck, however.
How hard it was to keep that secret, when, every time there was a talk
of Aleck's being able to get down to the Cove, I was on the point of
letting out what he was to see there!
I did contrive to keep it, however; and when at last February was
ushered in with a burst of warm weather that tempted all the little buds
to unfold themselves with a perfectly reckless disregard of the cold
that was sure to follow, and primroses and violets to start into blossom
as though they could not lay the bright carpet for spring's advance too
soon, Dr. Wilson decreed that nothing would do his little patient more
good than a couple of hours of the freshest sea breezes, caught and
partaken of on the spot, a mile off from shore;--which meant that Aleck
had leave to go to the Cove once more, and out upon the sea for a sail.
Of course I had a whole holiday for the occasion; and I had satisfaction
in observing that I was not the only one unable to settle down into
quiet occupation. The carriage was nearly ready to drive my parents and
Aleck down to the lodge, when I started off by way of the Zig-zag, to
the Cove.
There was the new yacht, already decked from bow to stern with the tiny
flags which I had been collecting for weeks past. All the sails were
set, but a little anchor--also my addition to the furniture of the new
vessel--kept her safely moored; and as she curtsied upon the water,
every sail and flag reflected as in a mirror, I thought I had never seen
anything so pretty.
Perhaps Aleck thought so too, for when he arrived a few minutes after,
leaning on my father's arm, he seemed as if he could not speak, and had
to sit down quite quietly in the boat whilst he drew the yacht close up
to the side, and looked at it all over. Then he turned to my father,
and said something about not being able to thank--and at this point
broke down in a manner that was so singularly infectious, that no one
was found able to break the silence at first.
My father said presently, however, "You must carry him off to sea,
George; and I shall call you to account if those pale cheeks don't
gather roses from the crests of the waves."
Then we drew up the anchor of the little yacht, and pushed off from the
shore. A basket of provisions had been placed in the boat, and before we
had been very long out at sea, George insisted upon its being unpacked,
threatening Aleck that he should be reported as insubordinate unless he
consumed precisely the quantity of wine and the whole amount of cold
chicken dealt out to him.
"Willie," whispered my cousin to me, after dutifully doing his best at
the luncheon, "I want very much indeed to go to the White-Rock Cove--do
you think George will let us?"
Certainly I did _not_ think so, but Aleck wished it, and that was quite
enough to make me join earnestly in his entreaties that we should turn
the boat's head round in the direction he wished.
Groves consented at last, but not without many misgivings, the
White-Rock Cove being, he said, about the last place he'd have thought
of taking us to; and sentiments to the same effect were respectfully
echoed by Ralph, who, in my private belief, had held the place in
superstitious horror ever since the 20th of September.
All of us, however, yielded as a matter of course when it was found
Aleck had set his mind upon it; and the wind being favourable, we were
not very long in rounding Braycombe headland.
Once in the Cove, my cousin asked me to land with him, requesting George
and Ralph to leave us ashore a little while.
"It must have been almost exactly here, I think," said Aleck, leading
the way to the spot which I remembered only too vividly, and glancing
round to assure himself that our companions were out of sight. "Willie,
I want us to thank God here, on the very spot--there's no one to see
us--let us kneel down."
We knelt together at the foot of the White Rock; Aleck, who was still
very weak, leaning against me for support. They were only a few childish
words he said, but they came from a full heart; and I never remember in
later life any liturgical service in church or cathedral that stirred my
feelings more deeply than that simple thanksgiving. Nor even now, after
the lapse of many a long year, can I visit that little retired nook in
the dear Braycombe coast, and hear the plash of the ripple, and the flap
of the sea-gulls' wings, and the echoing murmurs of the sea in the
caverns, without being carried back by a rush of tender recollection to
that day when all Nature's sweet voices seemed to be uniting in one hymn
of praise, taking up and beautifying and repeating the utterance of two
little thankful hearts--
"We praise Thee, O God."
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of the White-Rock Cove, by Anonymous