The Young Marooners on the Florida Coast Part 38

The young housekeepers laid themselves out to entertain their welcome guests. Mary provided them with an early and delightful supper, which was highly seasoned with love and good will. Mrs. Gordon and Mrs.

McIntosh reclined on Mary's sofa, the others gathered round to complete the circle, and the young people gave s.n.a.t.c.hes of their eventful history. It was late before any one thought of retiring. Then Dr.

Gordon called for a copy of the Scriptures. He talked of their separation, their sorrows, dangers, escapes, and now of their joyful reunion. After that, he read the ninety-first Psalm, which speaks of the protection that G.o.d promises to His people, and kneeling down, he offered their united thanksgiving for all the past, and their united prayer that the Lord would be their G.o.d, and make them His loving, grateful people. When they arose from their knees, every eye was wet with the tears of grat.i.tude and joy.

The sleeping arrangements for the night were hasty and scant. Mary lay between her mother and aunt, for whom two of the narrow mattresses of the vessel had been placed side by side, and covered with the bear-skin.

Frank nestled into the bosom of his father, and close beside him on another mattress lay Robert. Harold had chosen the sofa. After the labours and disturbances of the past twenty-four hours, sleep came without invitation. The moon and stars shone brilliantly overhead, the air was uncommonly pure, as if washed clean by the preceding rain, and the leafy forest, which had so often enclosed in its bosom the young but hopeful exiles, now murmured all night its soft blessings upon a reunited family.

Having extended this history far beyond the limits originally intended, it is time to close with a few hurried words.

Poor Peter was buried the next night by torchlight, according to the romantic custom prevalent among the negroes. Locked indissolubly in each other's arms, he and the sailor were laid in the same grave, and a double head and foot-board was sunk to mark the spot.

After much labour, and many dangers and delays (to recount which would require almost another volume), they raised and launched their little vessel, recovered the sail boat, provided suitably for their brute pets, sailed from the Island of Refuge and arrived safely at Bellevue, where they had been long expected, and almost given up for lost.

Before they left, the health of Mrs. Gordon was rapidly and almost perfectly restored. Fed from her children's stores, drinking from their tupelo spring, and regaled in every sense by the varied productions of that land of enchantment, but more especially charmed by her children's love there was nothing more for her to desire, except the presence of the dear ones left behind.

The joy of beginning their return to Bellevue was, however, strangely dashed with sorrow, at parting from scenes tenderly endeared by a thousand a.s.sociations. As they pa.s.sed down the river, a gentle gale came from the woods, loaded with the perfume of flowers. Harold pointed to his mother the tall magnolia on the river bank, which had been to him a Bethel (Gen. xviii. 16-19); it was now in bloom, and two magnificent flowers, almost a foot in diameter, set like a pair of brilliant eyes near the top, looked kindly upon him, and seemed to watch him until he had pa.s.sed out of sight. The live oak, under whose immense shade their tent had been first pitched, was the last tree they pa.s.sed; a nonpareil, hidden in the branches, sat whistling plaintively to its mate; a mocking bird was on the topmost bough, singing with all its might a song of endless variety; and underneath a herd of shy, peeping deer had collected, and looked inquisitively at the objects moving upon the water. It seemed to the young people as if the whole island had centred itself upon that bluff, to reproach them with ingrat.i.tude, and protest against their departure. But their resolution could not now be changed; the prow of their vessel held on its way. _The Marooning Party was Over_.

THE END