Luttrell Of Arran Part 27

"Of the big yawl, Sir; they, maybe, saw her at sea."

"And if they had, would that give them a right to hoist the Luttrell flag? We are low enough in the world, Heaven knows!" he cried; "but we are not come to that pa.s.s yet, when every grocer of Westport can carry our crest or our colours." This burst of mock anger was but to cover a rush of real terror; for he was trembling from head to foot, his sight was dimmed, and his brain turning. He felt the coward, too, in his heart, and did not dare to face the old man again. So, turning abruptly away, he went back to the house.

"My fate will soon be decided now," said he, as he tottered into his room, and sat down, burying his face in his hands.

The group of fishermen on the rock grew larger and larger, till at last above thirty were cl.u.s.tered on the point, all eagerly watching, and as earnestly discussing every motion of the lugger. It was soon clear that her course was guided by some one who knew the navigation well, for instead of holding on straight for the bay, where she was to cast anchor, she headed to a point far above it, thus showing that her steersman was aware of the strong sh.o.r.e current that had force enough to sweep her considerably out of her course. Meanwhile, they had ample time to discuss her tonnage, her build, her qualities for freight and speed, and her goodness as a sea-boat. "I wonder did she see the yawl?" said one at length, for, with a strange and scarcely accountable terror, none would approach the theme that was uppermost in every heart. The word once uttered, all burst in at once, "'Tis with news of her she's come!

She saw her 'put in' to Belmullet, or to Westport, or she saw her sheltering, perhaps, under the high cliffs of the coast, 'lying to,'

till the gale lightened." None would say more than this.

"Hurrah!" cried one at last, with a joyful cheer, that made every heart bound, "I see Master Harry; he's steerin'!"

"So he is!" shouted another; "he's settin' up on the weather gunwale, and his head bare, too. I see his hair flyin' wild about him."

"Go up and tell the master."

"Faix, I'm afeerd; I never spoke to him in my life."

"Will you, Owen Riley?"

"Sorra step I'll go; he turned me out of the place for saying that the cobble wanted a coat of pitch, and she sank under me, after. Let ould Moriarty go."

"So I will. 'Tis good news I'll have to bring him, and that never hurt the messenger." And so saying, the old pilot hastened, as fast as his strength would permit, to the house.

The door was open, and he pa.s.sed in. He sought for Molly in the kitchen, but poor Molly was away on the beach, following the course the lugger seemed to take, and hoping to be up at the point she might select to anchor at. The old man drew cautiously nigh Luttrell's door, and tapped at it, respectfully.

"Who's there? Come in; come in at once," cried Luttrell, in a harsh voice. "What have you to say? Say it out."

"'Tis to tell your honour that Master Harry----"

"What of him? What of him?" screamed Luttrell; and he seized the old man by the shoulders, and shook him violently.

"He's steerin the lugger, your honour, and all safe."

A cry, and a wild burst of laughter, broke from the overburdened heart, and Luttrell threw himself across the table and sobbed aloud.

Overcome with terror at such a show of feeling in one he had deemed dead to every emotion, the old man tried to move away unseen; but just as he had closed the door behind him, Luttrell screamed out, "Come back. You saw him--you saw him yourself?"

"No, Sir; but better eyes than mine did, and they could see that he had no cap on his head."

"And they were sure it was he?"

"There's no mistakin' him among a thousand!"

"If they deceived me--if this was false----" he stopped and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "There, I see her now. She's rounding to--she's going to anchor. I have been poorly of late, Moriarty," said he, in a low, subdued tone; "things fret and worry me, that I'd not let annoy me if I were stronger. Men of _your_ stamp fancy there can never be much amiss with men of _mine_, because we have enough to eat and drink. What's that noise without? Who is talking there?"

The door opened suddenly, and Harry, with flushed face and wildly disordered hair, and with clothes all wet and dripping, stood before his father. He made no motion to embrace, nor even approach him, but stood within the door respectful, but not abashed, and as if waiting for leave to advance farther.

Luttrell's cheek trembled, and changed colour twice, but, subduing his emotion with a great effort, he said, in a tone of affected indifference, "You had rough weather--did you make Westport?"

"No, Sir; we lost the boat."

"Lost the boat! how was that?"

"She filled; at least, she took so much water that she would not answer her helm, and then she heeled over and went down."

"Down all at once?"

"Yes; I had barely time to cut away our ensign from the peak. I thought I'd save the Luttrell colours, and so I did."

"Were you far from land at the time?"

"About fifteen miles; as good as fifty, for the wind was strong off sh.o.r.e, and such a sea!"

"And what did you do?"

"We had plenty of spars. There were oars, and stretchers, and four large planks of the flooring, all floating about, and each of us laid hold of something."

"By my sowle you're a brave boy!" cried the old pilot, who could restrain himself no longer.

Luttrell turned a fierce look on the old man, and pointed to the door, and the poor fisherman slunk away overwhelmed with shame.

"So we've lost our best boat, and all her tackle," said Luttrell, moodily; "a heavy loss."

"It is!" said the boy, gravely; "but the fellows that picked us up say, that they don't know how we held on so long with an undecked boat. They were watching us for an hour before we went over."

"Who were they?"

"Westport men; they were taking that man over here you gave us the letter for--a Yankee fellow."

"What do you mean by a Yankee, Sir?"

"Tom Crab called him so to me, that's all I know; but he's a good fellow, and gave me some brandy when he pulled me on board; and I near he rubbed me till I got quite warm."

"Where is he now?"

"He's helping them to carry that sick man up here, and I don't think he's so sick as they say. I'm sure it's just fright, and no more; for every time the boat went about in stays, he'd raise his head and give a groan."

"Of whom are you talking?"

"I don't know his name, Sir; but they tell me he wants to see you very much. There he goes; they've got him in that blanket, and are bringing him here."

"Where will I put the sick gentleman, Sir?" said Molly, coming in; "may I make a bed in the store-room?"

"Do so," said Luttrell, briefly; "and for the other, give him the room that was your mistress's; and do you, Harry, go out and be civil and attentive to these people. I will see them myself later on. They must put up with rough fare, but they came self-invited."