The Blunders of a Bashful Man Part 18

"Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own, In a blue summer ocean far off and alone."

I'd forget the curse of my life and be happy in spite of it.

When winter shut down, however, I didn't talk quite so much to the sea; it was ugly and boisterous, and the windy promenade was dangerous, and I shut myself up and pined like the "Prisoner of Chillon." I have lots of s.p.u.n.k and pride, if I am bashful; and so I never let on to those at home--when I sent them a letter once in two months by the little tug that brought my oil and provisions--that I was homesick. I said the ocean was glorious; that there was a Byronic sublimity in lighting up the lantern; that standing behind a counter and showing dry-goods to silly, giggling girls couldn't be compared with it; that I hadn't blushed in six months, and that I didn't think I should ever be willing to come back to a world full of grinning sn.o.bs and confusing women.

And now, what do you think happened to me? My fate was too strong even for Buncombe Island. It was the second of January. The tug had not left the island, after leaving a nine-weeks' supply, more than twelve hours before a fearful gale began to blow; it rose higher and higher through the night, and in the morning I found that a small sailing-vessel had been wrecked about half a mile from the light-house, where the beach ran out for some distance into the water, and the land was not so high as on the rock. I ran down there, the wind still roaring enough to blow me away, and the spray dashing into my eyes, and I found the vessel had gone to pieces and every man was drowned.

But what was this that lay at my feet? A woman, lashed to a spar, and apparently dead. When I picked her up, though, she opened her eyes and shut them again. Enough! this was no time to think of peculiar difficulties. I lugged her to the warm room in the light-house where I sat and lived. I put her before the fire; I heated some brandy and poured it between her lips; in short, when I sat down to my little tea-table late that afternoon, somebody sat on the opposite side--a woman--a girl, rather, not more than eighteen or nineteen. Here she was, and here she must remain for two long months.

_She_ did not seem half so much put out as I. In fact, she was quite calm, after she had explained to me that she was one of three pa.s.sengers on board the sailing-vessel, and that all the others were drowned.

"You will have to remain here for two months," I ventured to explain to her, coloring like a lobster dabbed into hot water.

"Oh, then, I may as well begin pouring the tea at once," she observed coolly; "that's a feminine duty, you know, sir."

"I'm glad you're not afraid of me," I ventured to say.

"Afraid of you!" she replied, t.i.ttering. "No, indeed. It is _you_ who are afraid of _me_. But I sha'n't hurt you, sir. You mind your affairs, and I'll mind mine, and neither of us will come to grief.

Why, what a lot of books you've got! And such an easy-chair! It's just splendid here, and so romantic, like the stories we read."

I repressed a groan, and allowed her, after supper, and she had done as she said--washed the dishes--to take possession of my favorite book and my favorite seat. She was tired with her adventures of the night before, and soon asked where she was to sleep.

"In there," I answered, pointing to the door of a small bedroom which opened out of the living-room.

She went in, and locked the door; and I went up to the lantern to see that all was right, and to swear and tear around a little. Here was a two-months'-long embarra.s.sment! Here was all my old trouble back in a new shape! What would my folks--what would the world say? Would they believe the story about the wreck? Must my character suffer? Even at the best, I must face this girl of the period from morning until night. She had already discovered that I was bashful; she would take advantage of it to torment me. What would the rude men say when they came again with supplies?

Better measure tape in my father's store for a lot of teasing young ladies whom I know, than dwell alone in a light-house with this inconsiderate young woman!

"If ever I get out of this sc.r.a.pe, I will know when I am well off!" I moaned, tearing my hair, and gazing wildly at the pitiless lights.

Suddenly a thought struck me. I had seen a small boat beached near the scene of the wreck; it probably had belonged to the ship. I remained in the lantern until it began to grow daybreak; then I crept down and out, and ran to examine that boat. It was water-proof, and one of its oars still remained. The waves were by this time comparatively calm. I pushed the boat into the water, jumped in, rowed around to the other side of the island, and that day I made thirty miles, with only one oar, landing at the city dock at sunset. I was pretty well used-up I tell you. But I had got away from that solitary female, who must have spent a pensive day at Buncombe, in wondering what had become of me. I reported at headquarters that night, resigned, and started for home.

I'm afraid the light-house lamps were not properly tended that night; still, they may have been, and that girl was equal to anything.

Such is life! Such has been _my_ experience. Do you wonder that I am still a bachelor? I will not go on, relating circ.u.mstances in my life which have too much resemblance to each other. It would only be a repet.i.tion of my miserable blunders. But I will make a proposition to young ladies in general. I am well-to-do; the store is in a most flourishing condition; I have but one serious fault, and you all know what that is. Now, will not some of you take pity on me? I might be waylaid, blindfolded, lifted into a carriage, and abducted. I might be brought before a minister and frightened into marrying any nice, handsome, well-bred girl that had courage enough for such an emergency. Once safely wedded, I have a faint idea that my bashfulness will wear off. Come! who is ready to try the experiment?

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