The Swan And Her Crew Part 37

"All right, old man."

The yachts started from slip anchors, with the canvas set; and at the flash of the starting-gun, sheets were hauled in, and the six yachts which came to the starting-point bounded away almost simultaneously, the white water flashing away from their bows, and boiling and eddying in their wake. The wind was now blowing very fresh indeed, the other yachts were not only gunwales under, but the water swept all over the leeward half of their decks, and even the "Waterlog," in spite of the width of her beam and double shape, had her leeward pontoon completely submerged.

On they surged, the two girls clinging to the forestay, heedless of wet feet, and breathless with the swift excitement: Frank firmly grasping the tiller, his teeth set and his blue eyes gleaming; d.i.c.k at the main-sheet, and Jimmy standing on the counter with the mizen-sheet in his grasp, both watching their captain, to be instant at his commands.

The first round was quickly over, and then the position of the competing yachts was this:--The schooner was ahead, then at a little distance came the "Waterlog," and close behind her the rest of the yachts in a body.

As they pa.s.sed Mr. Merivale he cried out, "Well done, boys! you'll get a good place."

Next they pa.s.sed a small boat, in which they saw Bell, who shouted,--"Haul in your sheets a bit more,--your top-sails will hold more wind."

Frank saw the wisdom of this advice, and as he followed it, the "Waterlog" shot forward and gained a little upon the schooner.

"If the wind were to freshen a little we should come in second," said Frank.

But as they commenced the third round the wind dropped most unexpectedly. The schooner in front rose nearer the perpendicular and her speed increased; the "Waterlog" fell back, and a large lateener behind fast overhauled her.

"How dreadfully annoying," said Frank; and he hated that lateener with a very vigorous hate. They pa.s.sed Bell's boat again, and the old man shouted--

"Look out, Master Frank, a squall will be on you in a minute."

The sudden lull was but the precursor of a tremendously violent gust. As the yachts were beating up to round the last mark-boat before getting a straight run in to the goal, the boys saw the trees on the land bow their heads with a sudden jerk, and then the squall was upon them. It did not affect them so much when they were close hauled, but as the leading schooner rounded the boat and presented her broadside to the wind there was a great crash, and her cloud of white canvas descended upon the water. Her foremast had broken close by the deck, and in falling had snapped the remaining mast half way up, and she lay like a log on the water. The lateener, close upon her heels, heeled over so much, that she began to fill through the hatchway, and to save her from an upset her sheets were let go, and with her sails wildly fluttering she drifted on to the disabled wreck. All this was the work of a few seconds, but there was time for Frank to unloose the halyards of the top-sails, which were purposely made fast just in front of him, and to give a warning shout of "heads!" and then, to the great alarm of the girls, the sails came clattering down to leeward, and they rounded the boat in safety, though cannoning violently against the wreck as they did so. And now they were _first_! The cutter next behind them, in shooting up into the wind to save herself, lost way, and was no longer a dangerous enemy, and although the other yachts rounded the boat, yet they were far astern, and the victory of the "Waterlog" was secure. At a word from Frank the two girls, one on each side, stripped off the a.s.sumed name, and let the papers float away on the wind, and, amid vociferous cheering and clapping of hands and waving of handkerchiefs, the _Swan_ shot past the winning-post, and so gained the prize.

Although gained partly by accident it was a great triumph for the boys, and the girls were quite as proud and delighted as they were.

"You are a dear good boy, and I'll give you a kiss," said merry Mary Merivale to her brother, "although you would rather have one from somebody else than from me, I know."

"I say, Molly, I wish you'd get her to give me one."

"You will have to wait a very long time for that, Mr. Frank."

"If you would give d.i.c.k one, she would give me one."

"That's all you know about it, sir," said Mary, making him a saucy curtsey.

CHAPTER XLI.

The Conclusion.

Now this chronicle of the doings of my three boys must come to an end. I have grown very fond of them, and I hope you have too.

We will take a big jump from the doings recorded in the last chapter, and look in upon them at a time fraught with importance to each of them.

Their pleasant school with Mr. Meredith is broken up. Frank and d.i.c.k are going to college, and Jimmy is about to be articled to a Norwich solicitor. They will always remain the best of friends, but still the new times will never again be like the old. New interests, new companions, new ambitions, all will leave their mark and have their influence, although this I am sure of, that the memory of this glorious partnership of three will always remain green and fresh with them, and have the greatest of all influences on their future lives.

Mr. Meredith had invited all three of them to dinner, and when Mrs.

Meredith had retired the conversation grew more personal and confidential. They looked upon Mr. Meredith as an intimate friend and counsellor, as well as a tutor and schoolmaster, and they told him their plans and hopes, just as if he were one of themselves.

Presently a silence fell upon the table. Frank looked at d.i.c.k, and d.i.c.k looked at Frank, and Jimmy kicked him under the table, and at last Frank cleared his throat with a preparatory "ahem" and said,--

"I am not good at making speeches, Mr. Meredith, but we wish to express how very much obliged we have been to you for the kindness and the--in fact the--the--well, what we mean to say is--that you are a brick of a good fellow, sir."

"What an awful muddle you have made of it, Frank," said d.i.c.k, in a reproachful whisper, and Jimmy launched a vicious kick at him under the table.

There was a twinkle in Mr. Meredith's eye as he drank off his wine, which was partly due to mirth, and partly to a deeper feeling. He said,--

"I know what you mean, Frank, and in return I may say, that I am both glad and sorry that the hour has come for us to part for a time. I am sorry, because I have much enjoyed your companionship for the last three years, and I believe you have done me as much good as I have done you. I am glad, because you have become such fine young fellows, and I have had a hand in the making of you, and you must do us all credit. Jimmy will make a good lawyer, I think; and he must remember that the law is an honourable profession, and that lawyers take the place of the knights of old; they must do all they can to succour the widows and fatherless, and never allow themselves to be made instruments of oppression. I will give Jimmy just one piece of advice: Go straight, and never attempt to finesse. I believe that this clever finessing, and attempting to outdo other lawyers in cleverness, has been the cause of the moral ruin of many an able lawyer. d.i.c.k, I am sorry to say, will have no need to be of any occupation, but he must try to get plenty of voluntary work, nevertheless, for no man's life can be n.o.ble unless he does some of the world's work. And Frank, what are you going to be?"

"I don't know yet, sir," replied Frank, "I should like to be a soldier, if I could be sure of active service pretty often."

"I wish you would be a soldier in a purer army, my boy. We want some more men of your strength and energy to fight the devil with. We want men who will not only do what they have to do with all their might, but who have plenty of might to use."

"I haven't the gift of the gab, sir," said Frank modestly.

"That would come with practice and study, and, 'out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh.' But come, we must not leave Mrs. Meredith so long alone on this your last night here."

So they went into the drawing-room and had a quietly pleasant evening.

When they left, they walked together down by the broad, talking of many things. It was bright moonlight, and the _Swan_ lay still and distinct on the water. It was warm, being in the middle of summer, and it was not late; and as they stood looking at the boat which they had built, and which had served them so well, they saw Mary and Edith Rose, who was staying with her, coming towards them, and Mr. and Mrs. Merivale not far behind.

"Good night," said Jimmy, "I shall see you both in the morning;" and off he went.

"Poor Jimmy," said Frank, "he does not like both of us going away, and he to be left behind alone."

The two girls joined them, and Frank and Edith walked off together, and d.i.c.k and Mary did the same in another direction.

"Mary," said d.i.c.k, "Mr. Meredith said that I ought to do some work in the world."

"So you ought, d.i.c.k," she replied; "both Frank and Jimmy are going to be busy, and I did so hope you would do something too."

"I mean to do something," he replied, with a quiet smile, "but I shall not tell you what it is yet. But if I do something which will show that I am of some use in the world, and not a mere drone, will you marry me?"

It was not light enough to see if she blushed, but I am sure she did so very sweetly. What she said, very naively, was this:--

"I thought you would ask me some time, d.i.c.k, but I did not want you to _quite_ ask me until you came from college. We are only boy and girl, you know."

"I am quite satisfied, Mary," he said, in that quiet, gentle voice of his which made you like him so much,--and so a compact was made, which both of them faithfully kept.

Frank had not dared to say half so much to Edith; but the next morning, when he was saying good bye to them all, and it came to her turn, he looked her steadily in the face as she took his hand, and, moved by a sudden impulse, she put up her face to be kissed as Mary had done, and as he gravely kissed her, he said in a low tone, designed for her ear alone,--

"I am going to do my very best, Edith, and what I do will be for your sake."

These were sweet words to the little maiden; but Frank received by the next morning's post a little Testament from her, with these words written on the fly-leaf--

"Not altogether for MY sake, Frank," and the half rebuke was of great service to Frank.