CHAPTER I
A DISAPPOINTMENT--I ESCAPE MY FORETOLD DESTINY--THE _OSPREY_--THE STORM
"There, that settles the matter," said my stepfather irritably. "Thelad's no good for the navy!"
"Why not?" asked my mother, pausing in the act of pouring out thebreakfast tea for me,--my parents preferred coffee.
"Because they say his sight is defective--that's all," replied mystepfather. "That's a pretty ending to his career!"
Mr. Bentham was a persistent grumbler. I had already remarked thattrait in his disposition, and it annoyed me.
"I am quite sure his eyes are all right," said mother.
"Then perhaps you'll kindly tell the Admiralty so," said my stepfather("Daddy," I called him). "There's the medical decision. He's beenplucked on sight."
"And _I_ am certain there's nothing the matter," said my mother. "Iwill take him to Mr. Jones, an old friend of his. You will find he isperfectly sound."
"My dear Emily, what is the use of discussing the matter? Julius isdeficient. There's the letter, read it for yourself. It's a greatnuisance. I suppose he'd better go to Granding and Smith's now.Granding will take him"--
"Granding and Smith's!" I exclaimed suddenly. "To the warehouse in St.Paul's? Oh, why? I _can't_ go into a shop."
Hitherto I had been silent, but when this terrible fate was presentedto me I spoke out. The very idea of a warehouse was abhorrent to me.
"My dear Julius, you must learn obedience. We have been educating youfor the Royal Navy, you have failed, and"--
"For no fault of his own," interrupted mother quickly.
"My dear, _did_ I say it was for any fault of his? I wish you wouldnot introduce irrelevant remarks. He has failed to satisfy theexaminers in eyesight, so"--
"I don't believe it!" exclaimed mother firmly.
My stepfather made no reply. He silently folded the report in itsofficial folds, finished his coffee,--still in silence,--rose quietly,and deliberately left the room.
"Where are you going, Mark?" asked my mother anxiously.
"To my study, until you have settled the question with the Admiralty,"he answered satirically, as he closed the door.
We were silent for a while. At length I said timidly--
"Mother, _must_ I go to Granding's? I hate it! Why can't I go to sea?"
"We shall manage something, I daresay, dear," she replied. "I amafraid your father is vexed about this. He was anxious for you tosucceed, and he is disappointed."
"But, mother, _I_ can't help it if my eyes are bad. They don't lookweak. Shall I go to old Jones, the oculist?"
"We will go by and by; meantime, let me see your father. I am sureGranding's warehouse will not suit you. The confinement will be mosttrying to your disposition. There may be some mistake about youreyesight; though I fear, even if so, it cannot be amended. Wait hereuntil I return. Ring the bell, and tell Ellen to clear the breakfastthings away, dear."
My loving mother left the breakfast-room, and I seated myself at thewindow to await her return. I was very much upset,--savage, infact,--and considered that the doctors had spun me on purpose. My eyeswere perfectly sound, I knew, at least I thought I knew, and it was"favouritism." I had heard of such a thing; and the medical boardwere, in my angry estimation, stupid! There was nothing the matter!
When my mother returned to the breakfast-room she found me silent andcross. The idea of giving up all my wishes for the navy, just becausea doctor chose to say my eyes were not sound, was absurd! But eventhen I could not help myself; and, however ridiculous I fancied thedecision to be, I was compelled to accept it. I had failed! Themedical gentlemen--one, rather--had decided against me. I was mostindignant, and inclined to be sulky, when mother had explained all thisto me. For some days I was greatly upset, and went about "like a bearwith a sore head."
Perhaps I had better not dwell upon that period during which, I nowmust confess, I behaved badly. My parents were most kind andindulgent. They perceived my disappointment, and made allowances forme in all ways, including pocket-money. They did not worry me, but letme find my level while openly discussing the question of my prospects.
During these weeks I continued my boating and sailing trips. I waswell known on the beach; the sailors, with a tender regard for me andmy pocket,--which they did not wish to see either too heavy or toolight,--indulged me to the top of my bent; and I believe had Isuggested a voyage to France, or the Channel Isles, old Murry and hisson Tim would have carried me off in their boat, which I called a"yacht" when describing her.
The _Osprey_ was a tidy little "ship," and many a splendid sail we had.I had already learned a good deal respecting ships and shipping, couldhandle a boat, and steer fairly well. Thus weeks passed. I grew atall lad; my face was browned by sun and sea, and I quite forgotbusiness,--had even been reconciled to my disappointment as regards thenavy, and was repairing my eyesight. Alas! I was just too old for theservice then, and my stepfather began to make some arrangements for myfuture.
I heard the names of Granding and Smith of St. Paul's mentioned, andshuddered. A counting-house and confinement in place of liberty andfresh air! What had I done to deserve this prison fate? It was not myfault that my eyes had been weak; and even mother had thought that"business" was not suited to me. But the blow fell!
The decision had evidently been made. My fate was fixed. I began tobe restless, but made no inquiry, and kept away from home as much aspossible. But one day, late in summer, the hammer fell upon my"lot"--I was knocked down to the drapers!
Mother came in and told me my fate. "Daddy" had determined it! It wasGranding and Smith, or a local bank,--I was generously permitted totake my choice.
Then I arose in wrath, and made some unkind, not to say rude, remarksconcerning my stepfather and Granding and Smith. Naval surgeons andexaminers also "caught it," and, indeed, my expressions pained my fondmother deeply. Till I had apologised for my violence she declined anyassistance on my behalf in future.
Of course, I said I was "sorry," and kissed her penitently. Sheperceived my repentance was sincere, and forgave me.
"Run away now, Julius, there's a good boy. Take a boat, and sail aboutuntil this ill-feeling has subsided. Your father only means it foryour good, remember that."
"Yes, I daresay he _means_ all right, mother, but that does _me_ nogood! I want to go to sea--I mean in the navy--and I shall do no goodany other way, I tell you plainly!"
"My dear boy, that is just nonsense! You have plenty of ability, andwill, in time, be very glad to reflect that you were induced to go intobusiness. Business is really the best career, your father says."
"_You_ said it wouldn't suit me, and I know it wouldn't!"
"My dear Julius, your father thinks it best for you."
"_He_ isn't my father, and I _won't_ go to Granding. There!"
With this defiance I rushed from the room, took my straw hat, andhurried away into the bright warm sunlight in search of the sea.
I had not far to travel. We lived then within two miles of theChannel, and close to a tiny station, at which a few branch trainsstopped during the day. Perceiving that one of these tiny trains wasapproaching, I hastened on and caught it. In five minutes afterwards Iwas crunching the shingle, near the boats, on the beach. Severalboatmen accosted me; I knew them well. They humoured me,--I liked them.
"Mornin', sir! Fine mornin' for a sail," said Murry, a queer, old,weather-beaten salt, who had served in the merchant marine. "Goin'out, sir?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied shortly. "How's the tide?"
"Young gentleman's arskin' for the tide, Tim," remarked another saltedfellow. "As if he wasn't a sailor now!"
"I am no sailor," I replied savagely. "I'm plucked!"
"Plucked! What d'ye mean? Thrown overboard? Who's been pullin' yourleg, sir?"
"It's true. My eyes are bad, the doctor says," I muttered. "He's anass."
"Your eyes bad? Well, that beats! Why, I wish I'd on
e o' them at yourage! It's a mistake, whoever said it, I say that much."
"Well, anyway, I'm not to be a sailor--not in the navy, anyhow.Perhaps never at all. But let's shut it up. Where's the boat?"
"Yonder she swims," said Murry. "Ye can go where ye like to-day, ifyou're not venturesome too much."
"Why, do you expect a storm?" I asked, looking at the blue above.
"Well, I wouldn't say it mightn't squall a bit. There's thun'er abouttoo. Better take a hand with ye."
"Better take a second hand," added Tim; "them mare's tails issubspicious. How far d'ye think o' goin'?"
"Round Ratcham Head, and away to Greystones. I suppose we can fetchthat?"
"Ay, ay; tide's makin', and we can come back with a flowin' sheet agin'it, proper. Here's my lad, Tim; he can go for the prog. Supposeyou'll want somethin'?"
"Of course. Here's the money. Get anything you like, and some beer.Look slippy, Tim. Come back as soon as you can."
Tim touched his cap, took the money, and set off rapidly in thedirection of the main street--the only one--of Beachmouth, which wasthen a small, almost unknown, watering-place. Now it is growingrapidly. Our house and grounds have already been purchased forbuilding purposes, and in the few years which have elapsed since mydisappointment the changes have been many and various.
I waited with impatience for Tim's return. The sea was calm. Thebreeze, which was off-shore, was gentle from the north-west, westing,and the sky was deep blue, with a haze hanging about, indicative ofheat in the future hours. The distant vessels--not steamers--werelazily dipping in the offing, not making much way, but stillprogressing, so we could hope for a breeze outside.
The dirty, chalky cliff sheltered us, and accentuated the rays of thesun, which, reflected from the water, burned and blistered us thatsummer more than usual, but as I was so much on the sea perhaps I feltit more then. At anyrate, that August day I felt the heat greatly, andbecame impatient for Tim's return with the "grub," so that we might getaway, and sail down Channel, away into the west perhaps.
After what seemed an hour, but was really twenty minutes, we sightedTim carrying a parcel and a jar, three tumblers being hung around hisneck, and his jacket pockets bulging. One glance satisfied me, and Icalled to Murry to come along.
"I'm a-comin'! I'm a-comin'! We'm goin' alongside in Bill's skiff, yeknow. The boat's all ready--ballast and all. Don't ye worrityourself, Mister Jule; Tim's comin' on, hand over hand."
Tim was certainly very warm when he stepped into the small boat, andwhen he was seated old Murry sculled us over to the _Osprey_, a small"yacht," if one may say so--a fore and aft sailing-boat, boasting alittle recess which was covered by a hatch, and called the cabin.There was room for ten or twelve people, and she could accommodatemore. She carried the usual fore and aft sails, with a mizzen, andsailed very fast. In fact, she was a rather smart boat, and easilyhandled, being stiff and strong, with pretty lines; she looked smallerthan she really was because of her fine shape and slender appearance.
The _Osprey_ could stand rough weather, as I well knew, and when wehauled up the mainsail, and set the jib and foresail, I felt happy forthe first time that day.
"Here's the change," said Tim, handing me a small sum, in whichsixpence shone proudly in a nest of coppers.
"Pouch it, Tim, please. Now, Murry, what's the course, eh?"
"Well, I should say, keep her close hauled myself. Keep your luff,sir, that's what it is, and then you'll have all your run back. But asyou like."
"I want to make Greystones, though," I said, as I glanced ahead.
"Well, ye can tack in. Ye see, it's this way: the tide's agin' ye, andwhen ye weather the Ratcham ye'll want all the luff ye can find tofetch Greystones this wind, anyway--and it's a squally bit down thatgully."
"Yes, that's true; but we can fetch in. So you think I'm a sailor,Murry?" I continued, referring to our previous talk.
"That ye be," he said. "Eyes, indeed! as if ye couldn't see like acat. Why, I've see ye make out the rig of a coaster when Tim couldn't,and he's been at sea since afore you come."
"How old is Tim?" I asked, with my despised eyes watching ahead.
"Why, about your age, I should say. Fifteen, ain't it?" he shouted tohis son.
"Fifteen what?" called back the lad, from forward behind the jib.
"Years, ye donkey-foal!" replied his father. "Your age, I says."
"You oughter know, _dad_! But I believe I'm thereabouts. Whatthen--what of it?"
"Nothin'--don't you think it," was the reply. "Mind you keep your eyesto windward, seems a change like."
"I've been thinking o' that cloud yonder, dad; seems like to spread.What d'ye think o' standin' in a bit?"
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed sharply. "We can't weather the point if wekeep in. As it is the tide seems sucking us into the cliffs."
"There's no call for hurry," said Murry. "But when ye can lay a pointinside--well, half a point--do it. The sky's getting kind o' hazy."
We had run well down the coast, slipping over the small waves, anddarting merrily along. The boat was sailing well up in the wind, closehauled; and every now and then, with all my care, I could not preventthe sail shaking a bit. This back lift required me to keep awayfarther out, and then we found the wind coming more abeam, and fresherat times. Again it died away, and luffed up once more.
All this time the sun was blazing hot, like a furnace heat in itseffects. Even the wind was warm, and appeared as if from a stove-pipe.It was nearly midday, and the heat was tremendous. So I suggestedlunch.
"Suppose we stand out a while, Murry, and pipe to dinner."
"Ay, ay," he replied, with a grin at my assumption of phrase. "It'seight bells, ain't it? Then make it so!"
"We don't want any 'observations,' Murry, I think," said I, smiling.
"No, sir; I ain't going to offer any except 'Hands, splice themainbrace!'"
Tim laughed, and handed out the beer jar, and a quantity of slices ofbeef and bacon, some bread and condiments, pickled onions in a bottle,and a huge piece of strong cheese. Altogether it was a splendiddinner, and we fell to, lying gently over to the wind, and enjoyed thefare, the "ship" almost steering herself.
"Well, that's good catering, Tim. I think you are a splendid stewardfor a small craft," I said, after an interval, during which ourattentions had been directed to the thwarts, on which our food wasspread. "Now I think we may clear up, and keep our course."
"The weather don't seem so willing to clear up, though," said Murry."That big, black cloud is sailing up hand over fist. That's a thun'ersquall, sir, and we'd better reef the mainsail."
"For a summer squall like that!" I exclaimed. "Why, we shall be undershelter of the cliff before it comes up; and its coming off shore, yousee, not on shore."
"Exactly," replied Murry, rising. "Bear a hand, Tim, my lad. Get in acouple of reefs. Lower the foresail afore ye come aft."
"Oh, come, Murry! I believe you're frightened. Why, it's only a puffoff shore, anyway."
"That's just it, sir. Tie them reefs, Tim, smart. The squall willcatch us out here unless ye luff up, Mister Jule."
"I am luffing up all I can," I replied. "The beastly ship won't standup to it, somehow! What's the matter?"
"It's the thun'er in the air does it. Ye see the breeze is backin' andfillin'. Give me the tiller, and go ye forward with Tim. Now, just beeasy."
Murry did not often interfere with my sailing, and, therefore, I madeno further objection to vacate the post of honour. He loosed thesheet, and held it in his left hand while steering the boat. Ever andanon he cast a glance above the cliff in the direction of which we wererunning obliquely to save all possible wind, but we did not make somuch headway, as we wished to reach beneath the point of Ratcham Headfor shelter.
"There she comes," cried Tim. "What a black 'un! Whiz! that'slightnin', sure."
"Yes, certainly. We're in for it, I think," I replied.
"Father don't like it
, I can see. He's allus skeered in a big storm.Mother, she was struck that-a-way," he whispered.
"How dreadful! In a boat you mean?"
"In this very boat it was. They was out lookin' after nets. Father hewas stoopin' forrad, a'most in the water, and mother she was steerin',when _smack_ come the lightnin' and kill her stone dead, settin' uplike a statoo, she was; and when father shouted at her to keep up, sheset, and set, until he went on savage, and then found her struck.There it is again!"
It was! Behind the cliff, which showed up whiter than ever, an immensebank of cloud was extended as far as we could see landwards, but onlyoccupying a portion of the sky on both sides. To east, west, and souththe horizon was clear, but great hanging tendrils were seeking to gripthe blue below, and were curling up and retreating or advancing byturns; but apparently also always gaining ground, though the movementof the mass was imperceptible to us. Nevertheless, the blacknessincreased, and at length the rumbling of the thunder became distinctlyaudible.
The wind rose, and came rushing across the waters, taking up the littlewaves in spin-drift, and indicating a bad quarter of an hour for anycraft caught unprepared. The boat's head was necessarily put morewest, and so, with the wind more on the beam, the rate of sailingincreased. The clouds came up steadily, the wind began to blustersuddenly, and to roughen the edges of the waves more and more.
The old fisherman hauled on the sheet, and sat over more to the weatherside. He made no remark for a few minutes, then he cried--
"Get in under the hatch there, forward, and haul a tarpaulin over ye.The rain's a-comin' thick. Hear that!"
"THE RAIN'S A-COMIN' THICK"]
A tremendous burst of thunder came crashing upon our bowed heads as itseemed. Tim routed out a tarpaulin, and he and I rolled each other init. It was a covering for the sails, which the old man used at timesmuch to his friends' amusement. However, on this occasion we did notcomplain, for the rain, and, I fancied, even hail, came down withfearful force, and ran out of the lee scuppers, though with difficultyit escaped.
Notwithstanding all our protection we were getting wet. The wind rose,the thunder roared, the lightning flashed past us, the little yachtbounded and dipped. At length a fearful burst of flame struck us, andwe actually screamed in terror.
Then the next moment the wind caught the sail, and flapped it with aterrible noise which mingled with the thunder. The boat careened over,righted, and flew before the wind like a frightened gull. I felt Timrise, and go astern; I heard a cry of pain and anguish. Then Isubsided upon the seething deck blinded and helpless!