The Story of the White-Rock Cove Part 11

Family prayer was concluded and breakfast began, and still Aleck did not appear. As he had no watch, it was not surprising that he should mistake the time to a certain extent; but we all wondered he should be so very late, and at last my father began to feel uneasy. "He must have been a long way off not to have heard the eight o'clock bell," he said; "yet he's a careful boy; it seems unlikely he should come to any harm."

"Run out on the lawn, Willie," suggested my mother, "and take a good look round; perhaps he may be in sight."

But although I put a liberal interpretation upon the direction, and not only ran out upon the lawn, but also down the drive for a little way, and up the overhanging bank, from which we could got a sight far off towards the White-Rock Cove, I could see nothing of my cousin, and returned breathless to the dining-room without the tidings that my parents expected.

The post had come in whilst I was out, and my father was engaged in the perusal of a letter from Uncle Gordon, reading little bits of it aloud to my mother as he went on. "Just starting for the Pyrenees ... need send no letters for a fortnight ... address Poste Restante, Ma.r.s.eilles, after this; the constant change of air has done wonders," &c. &c. When the letter was finished, I saw there was one enclosed for Aleck, which according to custom I laid upon his plate, repeating, at the same time, that I had looked in every direction, but could see nothing of my cousin.

"He must have gone down to the lodge, and perhaps Groves kept him, finding it was late, and gave him something to take," said my mother.

Whereupon my father rung the bell, and desired Bennet to go down at once to the lodge and inquire whether Master Gordon had been there, whilst in the mean time I finished my breakfast, and was sent to the school-room to get my lessons ready for Mr. Glengelly.

It was not long before my father came to me. "Willie," he said, "I can't understand what has kept Aleck, and I fear he may have hurt himself, and not be able to make his way home; so I am going out at once to look for him, and you must help me."

There was something rather dignified in being thus spoken to by my father, and, had it not been for the secret load, of which I dared not tell him, but which already began to weigh with additional heaviness on my heart, I should have felt somewhat elated at finding myself of importance.

My father continued in a quick, decided manner: "Leave your lessons, and run off at once to the lodge. If you find Ralph anywhere about, so much the better, he can go with you; in any case you and George could manage to get the little boat round to the White-Rock Cove, keeping in sh.o.r.e as nearly as George thinks safe, and keep a sharp look-out all the way along for your cousin.--Stay; on second thoughts Rickson shall run down to the Cove too, in case Ralph is not to be found; you will want another hand."

I did not need twice telling, but was off in an instant, and, breathless with excitement, reached the lodge a few minutes after.

My story was soon told, and George lost no time in getting out the smallest of our boats, and with Ralph, who happened, as George said, to be fortunately "handy" on the occasion, we started upon our search. I could not help thinking of the morning before, and its search, but the excitement now kept up my spirits; it was something so new to be thus suddenly dismissed from lessons, and trusted to help in what was evidently considered a matter of some anxiety; _why_ they should be so anxious I did not trouble myself to reflect, having little idea but that Aleck had wandered further than he intended, and perhaps experienced some difficulty on his way home.

We glided along quickly and pleasantly enough, past the first inlet, and the second, from our own Cove, scrutinizing all the banks, and rocks, and shady nooks, so familiar through many a wild exploring of ours; to reach the third we were obliged to stand out a considerable distance to sea, as the promontory bounding the White-Rock Cove on this side stretched far beyond the other rocky b.u.t.tresses, making one of the most prominent land-marks in that part of the south coast. It was underneath its shelter that we had lunched the day before, and as we pa.s.sed by the broad, flat stone in the little creek, the conversation we had had there repeated itself again and again in my mind.

It was about half-past eleven o'clock when we had cleared this point, and George gave the order to haul down sail.

"It's best to take to the oars now, Master Willie; we'd be a long while at it if we tacked--Now, Ralph, pull steady--You'll be about right if you keep her head straight for the White-Rock, Master Willie"--I was at the helm--"ease her, ease her a bit; more to port, sir, more to port--now steady again--now ship oars--the tide's running in pretty fast, and will carry us in." George's commands, thus given at intervals as we doubled the promontory and made for the Cove, alone broke silence, until, having shipped oars, there was nothing particular for him to do, and then all at once his tongue seemed unloosed. "Poor boy," he said, "it would be a sad day to us all if aught has happened amiss to him, and his parents too off in foreign parts. How cut up he was about his bit ship yesterday, but it matters little if he is safe to-day. I mind now he told me just afore we parted yesterday, that he thought it was quite possible our little ship might have driven ash.o.r.e here. But I hope he hasn't been rash in trying to climb where it's dangerous even for an active boy like him."

"He told me last night," I said, "that he meant to look all along the sh.o.r.e as far as this. Papa said we were to come here just in case--"

We were getting close into sh.o.r.e now, and Ralph, standing up in front of me, held his oar to push us off from the rocks until we reached our usual place for landing. George sat facing me, so that Ralph was the only one who was able to see well ahead at the moment. There was something in his manner which startled me, as he bent down all at once and simply said, "Grandfather!" George turned round in a moment, and his short e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and smothered "Oh!" confirmed me in a terrible fear they had made some discovery, and almost at the same instant, leaning forward, I could see my cousin lying prostrate on the beach just by the White Rock, at the bottom of a steep part of the cliff, and scarcely a foot from the water's edge.

I felt my knees shaking, as I tried to rise and could not; tried to speak, and the words died on my lips; then, for a moment, buried my face in my hands, and gasped out presently, "He's dead." I thought for a moment that I should die too, the sense of utter, hopeless, unbearable misery seemed so terrible.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DISCOVERY.]

George only answered, "Please the Lord, Master Willie, it may not be so bad as that;" and hastily drawing in the boat to the rocks, he leapt ash.o.r.e, and made his way, in less time than it takes to relate, to where my cousin was lying. Ralph and I got ash.o.r.e also, but my knees trembled so that I could not stand, but sunk down upon the rock. Ralph flung the rope to me. "Keep her from drifting, master," he said, "and I'll run and help grandfather."

It was a moment of terrible suspense. Groves knelt at Aleck's side, bent his cheek down to his lips, then listened for the beating of his heart--he might have heard mine at that minute--and then turning towards me he exclaimed, "He's still alive!"

I had courage to move now, and fastening the rope, I came and stood by Groves, as he knelt on the beach beside Aleck. I could scarcely believe it was not death when I looked at the colourless face and closed eyes, and needed all Groves' rea.s.surance to convince me that he had not been mistaken when he said my cousin was still alive.

"Thank G.o.d, Master Willie, we came when we did!" he added reverently, and pointing to the waves as they washed up to our feet; "ten minutes more, and the tide will be up over this place where he's lying. We must move him at once--but he's deadly cold. Off with your jacket, Ralph and put it over him, and--oh! see here!" he pointed to the arm which hung down heavily as he gently raised the unconscious form,--"the arm's broken."

The question now was how we were to get him home. By land it would not be more than an hour's climb; but then a _climb_ it must be, and this was almost impossible under the circ.u.mstances; whilst, on the other hand, with the wind no longer in our favour, it would be a good two hours getting back by water, and there was the anxiety of not being able to let my father know.

Whilst George was anxiously deliberating with himself--for neither of us boys were in a state to offer any suggestions--we looked up, and saw my father rapidly descending the hill-side.

In another moment he stood in the midst of our little group, and had heard how it was with my cousin. "I feared so," he said, "when I saw you all standing together. Thank G.o.d, the child is still alive!"

There was no longer any questioning of what was best to be done. My father was always able to decide things in a moment. "It would be too great a risk to carry him without any stretcher. We must take him round in the boat. How's the wind, George?"

"Not favourable, sir; we must trust more to the oars."

"Then you and Ralph must row. Willie, I think I can trust you, but remember a great deal may depend upon your carrying your message correctly. Run home as quickly as you can by the lower wood, it's quite safe that way; tell mamma that Aleck is hurt, and that Rickson must go off for Dr. Wilson in the dog-cart at once; if Dr. Wilson cannot be found, he must bring Mr. Bryant; and James must bring down the carriage to wait for us at the lodge. Don't frighten your mamma; tell her as quietly and gently as you can. If you meet Mr. Glengelly, tell him first, and he will break it to mamma. Do you quite understand?"

"Yes, papa," I replied, thankful to have something given me to do, and yet feeling as if I were in the midst of a terrible waking dream. After my father had taken the precaution of once again repeating his directions, I sped off up the steep hill-side, by way of the lower wood, towards home, whilst he gently lifted up my cousin and carried him to the boat.

I shall never forget that walk home--_walk_ I call it, though, wherever running was possible, I _ran_. The feeling of misery and terror that was upon me, seemed to be mocked by the gay twittering of the birds, and the dancing of the sunbeams through the leaves, and the familiar appearance of the laden blackberry bushes, and copses famous for rich returns in the nutting season. Everything in nature looking so undisturbed and unaffected by what was filling me with grief, appeared to add to my wretchedness. All the way along, I had the vision of my cousin's pale face before my eyes. True, he was not dead; but, child that I was, I had sufficient sense to know that often death followed an accident which was not immediately fatal, and _if_ he died it would be almost as though I had murdered him. I can remember trying hard to fancy it was a dreadful dream, and that I should wake up, as I had done on the preceding night, to find that my fears were all unreal; and as every step, bringing me nearer home, made this increasingly impossible to imagine, I changed the subject of my speculations, and took to remembering all the dreadful things I had ever read in history or story-books, of people dying of broken hearts, or living on and never smiling again, and fancying it was going to be the same with me; and I grew quite frightened, and trembled so much that I scarcely knew how to climb up the steep bits of the path.

I was still about a quarter of a mile from the house when I met Mr.

Glengelly, who was also on the search for Aleck. It was a wonderful relief to have some one to speak to after the long silence of the past hour, and to be cheered up by his a.s.surance that a broken arm was no very formidable accident after all, and that a little severe pain, and a few weeks invalidism, sounded very alarming, but would in reality pa.s.s quickly by.

"Then you think, perhaps Aleck won't die," I faltered, struggling to get breath, for the haste in which I had come had made speaking difficult.

"Die!" echoed my tutor cheerily; "why, Willie, people don't die of a broken arm! I broke my arm when I was a little boy of twelve, and you see I'm alive still." I smiled faintly; it was so much better than anything I had expected to hear. "It's true," added the tutor, "that there may be more than the broken arm, but we must hope for the best. In the meantime, Willie, you have had enough running, you are quite out of breath, and had better come the rest of the way quietly; I will go on and carry out your father's directions."

When I reached home every one seemed in a bustle, and too busy to take any notice of me. My mother indeed spared time to tell me I had been a good brave boy to come home so fast with the message, and that I had better go and sit quietly to rest in the school-room; but she hurried away immediately to finish her preparations, and I found she was getting the spare room next to her own ready for Aleck, instead of the little room next to mine.

I had a lingering hope that Mr. Glengelly might appear in the school-room, but he had gone down with Bennet to the lodge to see if he could be of use when the boat came in, so that I was quite alone, and could only watch from the half-open door the doings of the servants as they pa.s.sed to and fro, all seeming in a flutter, and as if it lay upon them as a duty to move about, and run hither and thither, without any particular object that I could discover.

After about an hour, the sound of wheels on the drive announced the approach of the carriage. I sprang to my post of observation, and saw Aleck, still deathly pale, and unconscious, carried carefully in by my father and Mr. Glengelly, and my mother on the first landing of the stairs, looking terribly anxious but perfectly composed, beckoning them up, as she said to my father,--

"Everything is ready, dear, in the room next to ours."

Then they all went up-stairs, and I saw nothing more until, a few moments later, Mr. Glengelly looked in and told me I was to go to dinner by myself, as he was going to drive to Elmworth at once, and my parents could not come down-stairs.

It seemed strange and forlorn to go into our large dining-room, and sit at the table all by myself, whilst James stood behind me and changed my plate, and handed me the dishes all in their proper order, as if I had been grown up. I was hungry, or rather, perhaps, stood in need of food, after the morning's exertions, but I felt quite surprised at my own utter indifference as to _what_ I had to eat, when I had the opportunity of an entirely free selection. I took my one help of tart, and a single peach, without the shadow of a desire such as is common to children, and which I should in happier times unquestionably have shared, to improve the occasion by a little extra allowance.

I had scarcely finished when my mother came in for two or three minutes.

"Mamma," I said, running eagerly to her, "do tell me, will Aleck die?"

"My darling," she answered, "we cannot say how much he is hurt until the doctor comes;" and she stooped down to kiss away the tears that came to my eyes when I noticed the sad, quiet voice with which she spoke, so unlike Mr. Glengelly's cheerful, re-a.s.suring manner. "You must pray to G.o.d, my child, that if it be His will he may recover, and try to cheer up, because there is still hope the injury may not prove very serious; we must hope for the best. I am going to bring papa up a gla.s.s of wine and a biscuit; will you carry up the plate for me?"

Just as we were going up-stairs, she added, to comfort me,--

"Willie, my child, how thankful I feel that you had nothing to do with the loss of the ship."

At which, observation--from her point of view, consolatory; from mine, like a dagger-thrust--I became so convulsed with sobs, that my mother slipped into the room where Aleck was, laid down the plate and the wine-gla.s.s, and returning again, took me down to the school-room, and simply devoted herself for some minutes to soothing me back into composure. She rose to go, but I clung to her dress; "Mamma, mamma," I entreated, "don't leave me, please don't leave me."

"I _must_ leave you, Willie," she answered, "and you must try to bear up bravely for my sake, and for Aleck's. You will do what you can to help in this sad time of trouble, and not add to my distress by giving way like this. You are over-tired, I think, and had better take a book, and stay here for the present, and lie down on the sofa and rest.

Afterwards, if you like, you can go in the garden."

I preferred remaining in the school-room; I could see the hall-door, and up the first flight of stairs, and could hear the opening and shutting of doors up-stairs, and occasional remarks from pa.s.sers through the hall, so that I felt less lonely than I knew I should feel in the garden. Frisk came and sat with his fore-paws on my lap--he seemed aware that something had gone wrong--and wagged his tail, not merrily, but slowly and mournfully, as if to express, after his fashion, how truly he sympathized in our distress.

At last, once again there was the sound of wheels; it was the dog-cart this time, and Frisk threw back his head, p.r.i.c.ked up his ears, and, with a quick bark, darted off to sanction the arrival of the doctor with his presence.

My father, too, was at the hall-door in an instant.