Flora Lyndsay Volume I Part 17

"Well, I'll be blowed if I arn't hungry!" cried Craigie, as he stood up in the boat, with his arms folded, and his nor'wester pulled over his eyes, to ward off the drenching rain. "Nothin' would come amiss to me now, in the way of prog. I could digest a bit of the shark that swallowed Jonah, or pick a rib of the old prophet himself, without making a wry face."

"I wonder which would prove the tougher morsel of the two," said Mr.

Hawke, raising his languid head from the bench before him, and whose love of fun overcame the deadly pangs of sea-sickness.

"A dish of good beefsteaks from the Crown Inn would be worth them both, friend," said Adam Mansel, who, getting better of the sea-sickness, like Craigie, began to feel the pangs of hunger.

"You may keep the dish, mister," returned Craigie, laughing; "give me the grub."

"Ah, how bitter!" groaned James Hawke, raising himself up from the furled sail which had formed his bed, and yielding to the terrible nausea that oppressed him.

"Ay, ay, my lad," said an ancient mariner, on whose tanned face time and exposure to sun and storm had traced a thousand hieroglyphics; "nothing's sweet that's so contrary to natur'. Among the bitter things of life, there's scarcely a worse than the one that now troubles you.

Sick at sea,-well on sh.o.r.e; so there's comfort for you!"

"Cold comfort," sighed the boy, as he again fell prostrate on the wet sail. A huge billow broke over the side of the boat, and deluged him with brine. He did not heed it, having again relapsed into his former insensible state.

"The bucket aft," shouted Palmer. "It's wanted to bale the boat."

"The bucket's engaged," said Craigie, bowing with ludicrous politeness, to poor Hannah, whose head he was supporting, "I must first attend to the lady."

The patience of the handsome young Quaker, under existing difficulties, was highly amusing. He bore the infliction of the prevailing malady with such a benign air of resignation, that it was quite edifying. Wiping the salt water from his face with a pocket-handkerchief of snowy whiteness, he exclaimed, turning to Flora, who was sitting at his feet with Josey in her arms, "Friend Flora, this sea-sickness is an evil emetic. It tries a man's temper, and makes him guilty of the crime of wishing himself at the bottom of the sea."

"If you could rap out a good round oath or two, Mister Quaker, without choking yourself, it would do you a power of good," said Craigie.

"What's the use of a big man putting up with the like o' that, like a weak gall-women were made to bear-man to resist."

"The Devil, and he will flee from them," said Adam.

"You smooth-faced, unshaved fellows, have him always at your elbow,"

said Craigie. "He teaches you long prayers-us big oaths. I wonder which cargo is the best to take to heaven."

"Two blacks don't make a white, friend," said Adam, good-naturedly.

"Blasphemy, or hypocrisy either, is sufficient to sink the ship."

Night was now fast closing over the storm-tossed voyagers. The boat was half full of water, which flowed over Flora's lap, and she began to feel very apprehensive for the safety of her child. At this moment, a large retriever dog which belonged to the captain of the boat, crept into her lap; and she joyfully placed the baby upon his s.h.a.ggy back, and the warmth of the animal seemed greatly to revive the poor shivering Josey.

It was nearly dark when Palmer roused Lyndsay from his stupor, and suggested the propriety of their return to --. "You see, Sir," he said, "I am quite willing to wait for the arrival of the _Soho_, but something must have gone wrong with her, or she would have been down before this.

The crew of the boat have been now ten hours exposed to the storm, without a morsel of food, and if the wind should change, we should have to run in for the Port of Y--, twenty miles distant from this. Under existing circ.u.mstances, I think it advisable to return."

"By all means," said Lyndsay. "This might have been done three hours ago;" and the next minute, to Flora's inexpressible joy, the anchor was hoisted, and the gallant boat once more careering over the mighty billows.

Her face was once more turned towards that dear home, to which she had bidden adieu in the morning; as she then imagined, for ever-"England"-she cried, stretching her arms towards the dusky sh.o.r.e. "Dear England! The winds and waves forbid our leaving you.

Welcome,-oh, welcome, once more."

As they neared the beach, the stormy clouds parted in rifted ma.s.ses; and the deep blue heavens, studded here and there with a pale star, gleamed lovingly down upon them; the rain ceased its pitiless pelting, the very elements seemed to smile upon their return.

The pilot boat had been reported during the day as lost, and the beach was crowded with anxious men and women to hail its return. The wives and children of her crew pressed forward to meet them with joyful acclamations; and Flora's depressed spirits rose with the excitement of the scene.

"Hold fast your baby, Mrs. Lyndsay, while the boat clears the surf,"

cried Palmer. "I'll warrant that you both get a fresh ducking."

As he spoke, the n.o.ble boat cut like an arrow through the line of formidable breakers which thundered on the beach; the foam flew in feathery volumes high above their heads, drenching them with a misty shower; the keel grated upon the shingles, and a strong arm lifted Flora once more upon her native land.

Benumbed and cramped with their long immersion in salt water, her limbs had lost the power of motion, and Lyndsay and old Kitson carried her between them up the steps which led from the beach to the top of the cliffs, and deposited her safely on the sofa in the little parlour of her deserted home.

CHAPTER XV.

ONCE MORE AT HOME.

A cheerful fire was blazing in the grate; the fragrant tea was smoking on the well-covered table, and dear and familiar voices rang in her ears, as sisters and friends crowded about Flora to offer their services, and congratulate her on her safe return.

"Ah, does not this repay us for all our past sufferings?" cried Flora, after the first hearty salutations of her friends were over. "And the baby! where is the baby?"

Josey was laughing and crowing in the arms of her old nurse, looking as fresh and as rosy as if nothing had happened to disturb her repose.

"Welcome once more to old England! dear Flora," said Mary Parnell, kissing the cold, wet cheek of her friend. "When I said that we should meet again, I did not think that it would be so soon. Thank G.o.d, you are all safe! For many hours it was believed that the boat had been swamped in the gale, and that you were all lost. You may imagine the distress of your mother and sisters, and the anguish the report occasioned us all, and how we rejoiced when Waters ran up with the blessed news that the boat was returning, and that her crew was safe. But come up-stairs, my Flora, and change these dripping clothes. There is a nice fire in your bedroom, and I have provided everything necessary for your comfort."

"Don't talk of her changing her clothes, Miss Parnell," said the old Captain, bustling in. "Undress and put her to bed immediately, between hot blankets, and I will make her a good stiff gla.s.s of brandy-and-water, to drive the cold out of her, or she may fall into a sickness which no doctor can cure. Cut your yarn short, I say, or I shall have to take charge of her myself."

"Captain Kitson is right, Mary," said Lyndsay, who just then entered from superintending the removal of his luggage from the boat, accompanied by a group of friends, all anxious to congratulate Mrs.

Lyndsay on her providential escape. "My dear Flora, you must be a good girl, and go instantly to bed."

"It will be so dull"-and Flora glanced at the group of friendly faces, beaming with affection and kindness; "I should enjoy myself here so much. Now, John, do not send me away to bed, and keep all the fun to yourself-the bright, cheery fire and all the good things."

Lyndsay looked grave, and whispered something in her ear about the baby, and the madness of risking a bad cold. Whatever was the exact import of his communication, it had the effect of producing immediate obedience to his wishes, and Flora reluctantly quitted the social group, and retired to her own chamber.

"Ah, Mary," she said, as Miss Parnell safely deposited her and the precious baby between the hot blankets, "it was worth braving a thousand storms to receive such a welcome back. I never knew how much our dear kind friends loved us before."

"And now we have got you safe back, Flora, who knows what may happen to prevent your leaving us again; Lyndsay may change his mind, and prefer being happy on a small income at home to seeking his fortune in a strange land."

Flora shook her head.

"I know him better than you do, Mary. When once he has made up his mind to any step which he considers necessary, a little difficulty and danger will only stimulate him to exertion, and make him more eager to prosecute his voyage."

Whilst sipping the potion prescribed by old Kitson, and giving Mary an account of all the perils they had encountered during the day, Nurse came running up-stairs to say that Captain Kitson thought that the _Soho_ was just rounding the point off the cliff, and he wanted to know, that if it really proved to be her, whether Mrs. Lyndsay would get up and once more trust herself upon the waves?

"Not to-night, Nurse, if a fortune depended upon it," said Flora, laughing. "Tell the Captain that I have spent the day in a salt-bath, and mean to pa.s.s the night in my bed."

Fortunately, Mrs. Lyndsay was not put to this fresh trial. The Captain had mistaken the craft, and she was permitted to enjoy the warmth and comfort of a sound sleep, unbroken by the peals of laughter, that from time to time ascended from the room beneath; where the gentlemen seemed determined to make the night recompense them for the dangers and privations of the day.

The morning brought its own train of troubles-and when do they ever come singly? Upon examination, Lyndsay found that the salt-water had penetrated into all their trunks and cases; and that everything would have to be unpacked and hung out to dry. This was indeed dull work, the disappointment and loss attending upon it rendering it doubly irksome.

While Flora and her friend Mary superintended this troublesome affair, Lyndsay lost no time in writing to the steamboat company, informing them of his disastrous attempt to meet the _Soho_; and the loss he had incurred by missing the vessel. They stated in reply, that the boat had been wrecked at the mouth of the Thames, in the gale; and that another boat would supply her place on the Sunday following; that she would pa.s.s the town at noon, and hoist a red flag at her stern, as a signal for them to get on board.

This was Thursday, and the intervening days pa.s.sed heavily along. A restless fever of expectation preyed upon Flora. She could settle to no regular occupation; she knew that the delay only involved a fresh and heavy expense, that they must ultimately go, and she longed to be off.

The efforts made by her friends to amuse and divert her, only increased her impatience. But time, however slowly it pa.s.ses to the anxious expectant, swiftly and surely ushers in the appointed day.