CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE RESCUE OF SABELLA.
Strongly as Winn pulled, the cries grew very faint and almost inaudibleduring the few seconds that elapsed before he discovered the strugglingforms from which they proceeded. A glance over his shoulder showed hima man swimming with one arm, while the other supported achild--apparently a girl.
With a final powerful stroke the skiff shot alongside the drowningfigures, the oars were jerked in, and Winn, leaning over the side,seized the girl's arm. At the same moment the man grasped the gunwaleof the skiff. It was no slight task for Winn to get the girl into theboat, for she was unconscious, and formed a dead weight, that was madeheavier by her soaked clothing. He finally succeeded; and as he laidthe limp form in the bottom of the skiff and took his first good lookat her face, he uttered a cry of amazement, and doubted the evidence ofhis senses. How was it possible that Sabella could be there, and insuch a predicament? Could the boat that had just been run into be the_Whatnot_? If so, who was this man? He turned to look, and to helphim into the skiff; but, to his horror, the man had disappeared.
William Gresham had redeemed his promise with his life. From a cruelwound, made by a splintered timber, he had bled so freely that hisfast-failing strength was barely able to hold Sabella's head above thesurface until Winn came to her rescue. He recognized the boy, and asthe little girl was lifted from his arms, he closed his eyes with thepeaceful expression of one who is weary and would sleep. Then hisgrasp of the skiff relaxed, and without a struggle he slipped acrossthe invisible line dividing time from eternity. The hurrying watersclosed about him as gently as a mother's arms, and who shall say thatin his death the man had not atoned for his life, or that in the tawnyflood of the great river his sin was not washed away as though it hadnever been?
The rescue of Sabella.]
As for Winn, he was overwhelmed and stunned. It was so sudden, soterrible, and so pitiful. At one moment the man was there, and in thenext he was gone without a word. In vain did the boy look over bothsides of the skiff and over its stern in the hope that the man mightstill be clinging to it. Only the swift-flowing waters met his gaze,and seemed to mock at his efforts to wrest their secret.
The man was gone; there was no doubt of that; and now came theharrowing question, who was he? Winn had not seen his face. It couldnot have been the owner of the _Whatnot_, because, with his wooden leg,he could not swim. It was not Solon, for the head had been that of awhite man. Could it have been his mother's only brother, his UncleBilly, the brave, merry young fellow who was to have been his raftmate?Winn had already learned to love as well as to admire Billy Brackett,though how much he had not known, until now that he believed him to begone out of his life forever.
He tried to believe that it was some one else, but in vain. The girlwhom he had just rescued was certainly Sabella, so of course the boatthat he had seen crushed like an egg-shell must have been the_Whatnot_. Oh, if he had only been a little closer, or if the fog hadnot been so thick! The boat was almost certain to have been the_Whatnot_ though, and in that case the brave swimmer, who had missedsafety by a hair's-breadth must have been--
Here a moan diverted Winn's attention from his own unhappiness, andcaused him to spring to the side of the little girl. She opened hereyes and looked at him. "Oh, Sabella!" he cried, "tell me who savedyou? Was it Mr. Brackett--my Uncle Billy, you know?"
"My Uncle Billy," she murmured faintly; then she again closed her eyeswearily, and seemed to sleep.
"It was he, then; it was he!" And Winn, breaking down, sobbed aloud."And all my fault that he came on this trip! My fault, my fault!" herepeated over and over again.
At length he became conscious of the selfishness of thus giving way tohis feelings while Sabella was still in such urgent need of his aid.
"I must get her to the raft at once!" he exclaimed, starting up andlooking about him. But there was no raft, nor was there any steamboat.There was nothing but the skiff with themselves in it, a small circleof brown water, and the fog. He had no idea of direction, not evenwhether his skiff was heading up-stream or down, or drifting broadsideto the current. If the fog would only lift! It had been so kind tohim, but now was so dreadful.
The boy took off his coat, folded it, and put it under Sabella's head.Then he sat beside her and rubbed her cold hands. He knew of nothingelse that he could do for her, and so he waited--waited for the fog tolift or for help to come.
At length he began to hear sounds from every direction, the sound ofwhistles, bells, and hundreds of other noises. He must have reachedSt. Louis, and it would never do to drift past it. Besides, the dangerof being run down was now greater than ever. So the boy took to hisoars, and began to pull in the direction from which the loudest soundof whistles appeared to come.
Suddenly he was hailed. "Look out dar, boss!"
"Hold on!" shouted Winn. "I am in trouble, and will give you a dollarto pilot me ashore."
A skiff came alongside. It contained but a single occupant, a negro,who appeared nearly as old as Solon. He listened with open-mouthedwonder to the boy's hurriedly told story, and not only expressed aready sympathy, but promised to have "de young gen'l'man an' der lillylady lamb on de sho' in free minutes. Ole Clod, him know de way. Defrog can't fool him on desh yer ribber."
With renewed hope Winn followed closely behind his dusky pilot, and inanother minute caught sight of the welcome land. It was East St.Louis, on the Illinois side of the river, at that time a great railroadterminus, and Clod's little cabin stood at the edge of high-water-mark;for he was a boatman, and gained his living from the river.
"Now, young marse, you mus' come up to my house, whar my ole 'omanfixin' de lilly gal all right in no time." So saying, the negro liftedSabella in his strong arms and started towards his cabin, to which Winnwas only too glad to follow him. The boy had never felt so utterlyhelpless and forlorn.
He no longer thought of taking matters into his own hands, but wasthankful to accept even the humble guidance of this negro. Under thecircumstances he could not have fallen into better hands. Not only wasClod strong, willing, and possessed of a shrewd knowledge gained byrough experience, but his "ole 'oman," Aunt Viney, a motherly soul ofample proportions, was accounted the best all-round nurse of theneighborhood. She was never happier than when bustling about in aservice like the present; and within five minutes Sabella was nestledin the snowy centre of a huge bed, with Aunt Viney crooning over herlike a brooding tenderness, and rapidly restoring the color to thechild's pallid cheeks.
At the same time Winn was sitting by the kitchen stove in a cloud ofsteam from his own wet clothing, absorbing warmth and comfort, andrelating his adventures at length to the sympathetic old man.
Clod's interest and wonder at the boy's story were shown by upliftedhands, rolling eyes, and such ejaculations as "How yo' talk, chile!""Well, I nebber!" "Dat's so, bress de Lawd!" "Ef dat ar ain't debeatenest!"
At length Aunt Viney tiptoed heavily into the kitchen with the joyfulannouncement that Sabella, fully restored to consciousness, wassleeping naturally and quietly.
"When she wakin she be all right an' hongry, de honey lamb! An' Ireckin dis young gen'l'man hongry now, an' ef he ain't he orter be, foreatin' am de bestes t'ing in de worl' when yo' is in trouble," sheadded, as she bustled softly about, making preparations for a simplemeal.
Winn did not think he could eat a mouthful, so full was he of grief andtrouble; but on making the attempt, merely to gratify the kindly soul,found that he not only could but did dispose of as hearty a meal ofbread and milk, coffee, bacon, and sweet-potatoes, as any he had evereaten in his life. Not only that, but as his faintness from hungerdisappeared his hopefulness returned, and by the time he had finishedeating fully half of his troubles had vanished. He was stilloverwhelmed with grief at the supposed loss of his brave young uncle,but he had already resolved upon a plan of action, and felt better forhaving done so. He would send a telegram to his father hinting at thegreat sorrow that
had overtaken them, and asking him to come on atonce. Then he would notify the police of the collision, with itsprobable loss of at least three lives, and ask them to keep a watch forthe bodies. He would also tell them of the lost raft.
After great searching, Clod finally produced an old pen, some verythick ink, and a few sheets of paper quite yellow with age. Then hewatched with respectful admiration the writing of the telegram, forpenmanship was an art he had never acquired. He offered to take themessage to the telegraph office while Winn was preparing a statementfor the police, and as he was evidently anxious to be of service, theboy allowed him to do so.
The nearest telegraph office was in the railway station, and as Clodapproached it he found himself involved in the crowd of passengers justbrought in by a newly-arrived train from the North. He dodged here andthere among them, but finally, in escaping a truck-load of baggage, hestumbled over the chain by which a gentleman was leading a dog, andplumped full into the arms of a white-headed negro who was close behindit.
"Scuse me, sah!" began poor Clod, most politely. Then he stared,stammered, tried to speak, but only choked in the effort, and threw hisarms about the neck of the old negro, laughing and sobbing in the samebreath.
"Doesn't yo' know me, Solom?" he gasped. "Doesn't yo' know yer ownbr'er Clod? Doesn't yo' 'member de ole plantashun 'way down inLou'siana, befo' de wah, an' Clod?--yo' own br'er Clod?"
Then Solon recognized his only brother, long mourned as dead, and thetwo old men embraced, and wept, and held each other off at arm's-lengthto get a better look at the other's changed but still familiar face.The hurrying passengers smiled at this spectacle at once so ridiculousand so pathetic, but good-naturedly made way for the old men, whileBim, sharing the general excitement, barked and danced about, until hischain was entangled with the legs of at least half a dozen persons atonce.