For upwards of a week Roger Kyffin had been absent from Idol Lane,
during which time he had never left his house at Hampstead. The doctor,
however, paid frequent visits, sometimes thrice a day; once he remained
during the greater part of the night. The Misses Coppinger also
frequently drove over, and on one occasion Mr. Coppinger himself rode
all the way to Hampstead to inquire for Mr. Kyffin's sick friend, for
Mr. Kyffin himself was in perfect health; indeed, he had never had an
hour's illness since he was a boy. No mother could have attended a
child with more care and solicitude than did Roger Kyffin his guest.
That guest was Harry Tryon. The day after his release from the prison
ship he was seized with illness--his tongue was parched, his limbs
ached, he was unable to raise his head from his pillow. The doctor
thought that he was suffering, it might be, from the jail fever.
Harry's nerves had also been severely tried. What with the fatigue and
anxiety he had gone through, the feeling of shame and remorse for his
folly had at length completely overcome him. For several days he
appeared to be hovering between life and death.
"Oh! Mr. Kyffin, I am unworthy of you, I feel that I have disgraced
you, and Mabel, too; when she knows about me, she, too, will see that I
am unworthy of her love. How can she ever have confidence in a man who
has shown himself so weak, who has committed so many follies, and who
has been so easily led astray by designing knaves? How could I for a
moment have trusted such a person as that unhappy man Sleech? Why did I
not at once perceive the aims of Parker, who, however, was a thousand
times superior to the other fellow?"
"My dear boy," said Mr. Kyffin, "`let bygones be bygones.' You have had
a good deal of experience in life, and have paid dearly for it, and now
I pray God that you may be restored to health and be wiser for the
future."
"I see no hope for life in me," answered Harry, "Mabel can never be
mine."
This was said as the fever was coming upon him before he broke down
altogether. Mr. Kyffin saw that reasoning or expostulation under the
circumstances would avail nothing. He did his best therefore merely to
soothe the poor lad. From his heart he pitied him, and loved him more
than ever. Mabel had returned to Lynderton with her father. She was
not told of Harry's desperate illness. Indeed, she could not be
permitted to see him for fear of catching the fever. She had fully
expected that he would write, and perhaps she suffered more from being
left in doubt than if she had been told the truth. At length, a fine
constitution, under the doctor's care, by God's mercy brought him
through. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to be moved, Mr.
Kyffin was anxious to give him change of air. The cottage where he was
born was vacant, and Mr. Kyffin begged his old friend Doctor Jessop to
fit it up for him. "His native air, and the doctor who knows him so
well, will afford him the best chance of perfect recovery," the kind man
thought to himself, so he and Harry set forth towards Lynderton. Once
more Harry took up his abode at the cottage where he first saw the
light. He sat in the room with his old friend where his mother had
died. A faint recollection of her came across him. He could even fancy
he saw her slight figure as she sat in the porch watching his gambols on
the lawn, or as she stood at the gate while he and the nursemaid set
forth on their daily walk. The fresh autumn air soon restored vigour to
his limbs and sent new life through his veins. Doctor Jessop prescribed
frequent walks on the open downs above the cliffs.
"All fear of infection will by that time be blown away," he observed.
"For my part, I believe there has been no real danger since you left
London. However, we cannot be too cautious in such matters."
"And may I then see Mabel--Miss Everard?" he asked.
The doctor smiled.
"That may be as her father wishes," he answered. "Certainly you will
run no risk of giving her the fever, if that is what you mean. Perhaps
I may be able to drive you there some day, not just yet though, and you
are certainly not strong enough to walk so far."
The weather had changed lately, and become very boisterous, but the
stronger it blew the more Harry enjoyed his walks on the cliffs.--
Generally Mr. Kyffin accompanied him. One evening, however, it having
rained all the afternoon, he went out later than usual. The air was
fresh and pure, and he was tempted to continue his walk much farther
than he generally went. At length, growing somewhat weary, he sat
himself down in a hollow of the downs. The sun had hitherto been
concealed, but at length it shone forth below a mass of clouds which
hung overhead, and appeared floating as it were above the horizon, a
vast ball of liquid fire. Gradually it sank over Portland Head, leaving
the western sky glowing with a ruddy hue. Harry sat on, lost in
thought. Now a fresh bank of clouds rose out of the horizon, and
joining those that hung overhead, completely obscured the sky. Twilight
came on more rapidly than usual, it seemed, as the wind increased, and
the clouds rushed by in thick masses overhead. At last Harry became
conscious that time had sped by, and the waning light warned him of the
rapid approach of night. He knew the way well enough. At the same time
there were several difficult places which he would have preferred
passing in daylight. He hurried homeward along the cliff, but the
darkness increased, and at length, reaching a path which led down to the
beach, and recollecting that the tide was out, he descended by it,
intending to continue his walk that way homeward. It was soon so dark
that he could with difficulty see his way along the shore. Still, he
found it somewhat tedious work walking along the beach, and upwards of
an hour passed away after it became dark before, according to his
calculation, he had reached that part of the beach which lay below the
cottage. Just as he was about to turn away inland the sound of a gun
came in from the sea. Another and another report followed. He stood
for a few minutes wondering from what vessel the guns were fired.
Presently his eye caught sight of the flashes. Several others followed.
The vessel firing was drawing nearer and nearer. He could not bring
himself to leave the shore, hoping that Mr. Kyffin would not be alarmed
by his absence. The wind whistled loudly. The seas came rolling in
heavily on the beach, bursting with loud roars, throwing up the white
spray, which was driven in showers inland. Harry was soon pretty well
drenched, but he had been too much accustomed to a wet jacket to think
of it. Suddenly the clouds parted, and the moon burst forth, shedding a
pale light over the wild, dancing waters. Just on the spot where her
beams fell he distinguished a vessel running in towards the shore. That
short glance showed him that she was a lugger. She seemed to be
carrying a press of sail, considering the heavy gale blowing. Again the
clouds parted, and at some distance astern of her, his keen seaman's eye
caught sight of a larger vessel. It was from her the guns were fired,
for at that instant a flash was soon followed by the dull report of a
gun, sounding even above the roar of the ocean. The position of both
vessels was perilous in the extreme. In a few minutes the lugger must
inevitably run on shore; but being probably a light craft, by being
driven high upon the beach her crew might be saved; but if the larger
vessel struck, it would be at a considerable distance farther out, and
the seas would with terrific force instantly break over her and wash all
the people off her decks. He longed to have the means of making a
signal to the vessels of their danger. That seemed impossible. At no
great distance were several cottages inhabited by fishermen and other
seafaring people.
"I will go and collect them," Harry said to himself, "and get them to
bring ropes and spars. We may save the lives of some of these poor
fellows. Without help they must nearly all be washed off again, even
should they be thrown on the beach."
Harry was not mistaken as to his position, and after some time, though
not without difficulty, he found his way up the cliff and saw a light
burning in one of the cottages which he was endeavouring to reach. He
shouted out to the inmates, and at length a door opened and a light
streamed forth. By its means he got to the front of the cottage, and
told the men what was likely to occur. In a short time they were all on
foot and hurrying down with him to the beach, laden with the poles and
ropes he advised them to bring. At that moment a light burst forth from
the top of a neighbouring cliff, and it was repeated by another from a
beacon a little way inland. The guns then had been heard by the
coastguards. By the time Harry had returned to the beach, a number of
persons were collecting from all sides. Numerous other beacons in a
short time blazed forth. The crowd were uttering various cries and
exclamations.
"It is a French fleet," cried one; "the French are coming."
"To arms! to arms!" shouted others.
"What is to be done?" asked some of the more timid. Several hurried
back, declaring it was time to get out of harm's way. Harry was glad at
last to hear Mr. Kyffin's voice. He made his way up to him. "I was
afraid you would be anxious about me," he said; "but I felt that I ought
not to come home to let you know till I had collected the people, in
case there should be a shipwreck, to help the sufferers."
"She will be lost to a certainty," cried the seamen in the crowd.
Just then the dark sail of the lugger was seen, now lifted up, as she
rose on the top of the sea, now sinking down into the trough. On she
came. Those on board must have been well aware of the fate awaiting
them. Still they made no attempt to haul off.
Harry, calling to the people assembled, formed a party of men with ropes
and spars who, secured one to the other, were to rush into the sea, and
endeavour to drag out those who were washed overboard. Others were to
stand by, ready to carry them up the beach out of the reach of the
waves. The arrangements were made not a moment too soon. With a loud
crash the lugger was seen rushing up the beach. In another instant, the
following sea, with a loud roar, washed completely over her, and she was
driven broadside on to the shore.