Washed Ashore Part 9

She showed them the window, which seemed a very small one, about eight feet from the ground; and then, with her finger on her lips, disappeared round the corner. Charley waited what he considered a very long ten minutes, but Tom, who could calculate better, held him tight, as a sign that it was not yet time to move, and at last bent his back with his head against the wall, and signed to him to get on the top of it. This Charley did with alacrity, and grasping the window-sill, drew himself up till he got his knees on it, and he was then able without noise to open one side of the lattice window. There was barely room for him to creep through, but he managed to do so without making any noise, and at length he stood inside. He looked round anxiously into the room. At that moment a gleam of moonlight burst through the pa.s.sing clouds, and showed him a small bed, and Margery, completely dressed, sleeping soundly and peaceably on it. He was afraid if he awakened her suddenly she might speak or cry out; so taking off his shoes he crept softly up to her, and kissing her brow, whispered low in her ear, "Margery, Margery, don't speak--a friend--Charley has come for you, to take you home."

She opened her eyes, which Charley could see, for the moonbeam cast its light directly on her countenance; a sweet smile came across it, and he thought that she had never looked more lovely; but she evidently thought that she was dreaming.

"Dear Margery, wake up; Charley has come to take you away from this place," he repeated.

"Is it possible?" she asked, in the same low voice in which he spoke, and took his hand. The touch a.s.sured her.

"Yes, yes! I am ready; oh, thank you, thank you!"

Charley helped her to rise, and to step softly across the room. He then got through the window, and holding on, as only a sailor or a cat could, to nothing, helped her through and lifted her down to Tom, who couldn't refrain from giving her a hearty kiss in his joy at recovering her.

Charley then put on his shoes, and dropped noiselessly to the ground.

"They brought me here without shoes, and would give me none for fear I should run away," she whispered; "but I will try to walk without them."

"Not for worlds, Margery," answered Charley. "We'll carry you all the way, never fear."

"Aye, aye, Miss Margery," said Tom; "I've carried you many a mile when you was a baby and you was no heavier than a feather, and I've still strength left in my old arms to carry you now that you are a young lady nearly grown, I may say."

Margery could only murmur her thanks, as Tom bore her in his arms across the garden and down the hill at a rapid rate, Charley bringing up the rear, and ready to do battle should they be pursued.

Polly had so far proved faithful, and Charley hoped sincerely that the part she had played in the affair might not be discovered by her a.s.sociates. Still, he cast many an anxious glance behind him as they descended the steep, rough hill side, lest any of the smugglers should have been aroused, and have come in pursuit. Their chief difficulty was to find the way; but they guessed pretty correctly the direction of the Tower, the moon still affording them the a.s.sistance of her light. They did not even stop to rest, Tom declaring that Miss Margery was still almost as light as a feather, if not quite as light as when she was a baby. They had thus made good progress, when Charley said that he heard footsteps.

"May be," answered Tom; "but they must be stout fellows who will dare to take our Miss Margery from us."

"I am not at all afraid of anybody now," said Margery. "I am sure, Charley, that you and Tom would not let them take me from you." Charley of course promised that no one should, and as they did not believe that any smugglers would venture to interfere with them, should any be met, they continued their course. However, before they had gone much further, two very suspicious-looking personages overtook them and asked various questions, as to whence they had come and where they were going.

"Easily answered, mates," said Tom; "we are coming from the place we last stopped at, and we are going home, and our business is n.o.body else's, do ye see?"

Whatever had been the intentions of the men, Tom's firm bearing, and Charley's determined air, as he brought up the rear, following Tom as a bull-terrier does the heels of his master, ready to fly at any one venturing to interfere with him, made them alter their purpose.

"I thought as how those piratical craft would sheer off if we showed a bold front," said Tom, as the men turned down a lane on one side. "It's a great point to show an enemy that you are wide awake and not afraid of him. Mind you that, Master Charley. There's a great enemy, too, who is always going about seeking whom he may devour; and if he finds that we are prepared for him, and know how to resist him, he'll be off like a shot."

At length the door of the Tower was reached. Becky, who opened it, instead of welcoming them as they might naturally have expected that she would, stared wildly at them, and then throwing her ap.r.o.n over her head ran back screaming, "There are ghosts--there are ghosts--there are ghosts at the door!"

"No we ain't," said Tom, bluntly, as he entered; "but we've brought back Miss Margery all right, and she'll be glad of some grub presently, and so shall we by and by I'm thinking,--eh, Master Charley? But just do you first, as soon as you have got your five senses back, run up and tell the captain and missis. They'll not be sorry to hear the news, at all events."

In another minute Margery was in her parents' arms, and they were thanking Heaven that she had been safely restored to them.

Little Margery had kept up her courage wonderfully, from the moment she was seized till her return home. She said that she was awake and thought that she saw Becky collecting her clothes, when suddenly she was taken up in the arms of a woman; she supposed her mouth was gagged and her eyes blinded, and she was carried swiftly along, down into some damp place and along pa.s.sages into the open air, and finally into the cottage where Charley had found her. She had had no fear about being ill treated, for she did not think any one would hurt a little girl like herself. She was very grateful, however, to Charley and Tom for all the risk they had run to rescue her.

Tom and Charley's adventures created great surprise, for the captain could not conceive how they could have got out of the vaults; and it was not until they had all together paid another visit to it that they discovered the aperture lately blocked up with loose stones, and then at length guessed that it had been done by the smugglers to cut off pursuit. The result of the whole proceeding was the very reverse of what the smugglers had expected. In their foolish ignorance they fancied that they could frighten away a sensible man, like Captain Askew, from the Tower by their notable scheme of making it be supposed that it was haunted.

We may be surprised at their gross representations of ghosts and spirits, but which were undoubtedly exact imitations of their own conceptions of such things; nor does it at all follow, that because some of them ventured to appear in the character of ghosts, they did not firmly believe in their existence. Probably their own superst.i.tious fears would as easily have been worked on as they hoped to work on those of others.

A considerable amount of the property of the gang, which they had not time to remove, was seized when they left their chief stronghold and place of rendezvous on the coast, where they had long defied the vigilance of the revenue officers, and many of them were driven away from the coast. The entrance to the cave from the sea was carefully blocked up, so that no one could again undermine the Tower, and attempt to play off such tricks on the inmates.

Mr Ludlow, accompanied by Stephen, rode over to the Tower to congratulate his tenants on the recovery of their daughter. "I am very glad to see the young lady back, and safe, and well; but," he added, "I have a bone to pick with her. What do you think, captain? She has actually been endeavouring to persuade my only son to go to sea, that he may spend his life in searching for your poor boy, whom she a.s.serts is still alive in some island of the Pacific, either in consequence of reading a child's book, or from some c.o.c.k-and-bull story which she heard from an old sailor one day, who was never afterwards to be found to corroborate the truth of his narrative. I wish bygones to be bygones, and I would rather not have alluded to the subject, but I really do not know what powerful influence she may exert over him, though I cannot say that at present he has any fancy for the undertaking; but I wish, at all events, to nip the project in the bud."

As may be supposed, Captain Askew was not a little astonished at this address, while he could not but be sensible of the want of feeling of the man who could thus coldly speak of his long-lost son, that son who had been banished in consequence of Mr Ludlow's own stern decree. "I was not aware that my little Margery entertained any such notion," he answered mildly. "Did she, I should have supposed that your son, Stephen, however much she may esteem him as a friend, was the very last person she would have selected for the scheme."

"Oh, the foolish boy lent her a book, a copy, I believe, of Defoe's 'Robinson Crusoe,' and as he describes a person living on an island for a number of years by himself, she has taken it into her head that her brother may have escaped shipwreck, and be still alive on one of the many islands which I understand stud parts of the Pacific."

"I have only to repeat that my daughter has not mentioned the subject to me, and I will undertake that she does not induce your son to act contrary to your wishes," answered Captain Askew.

"Very well, neighbour, I will trust to your word," said Mr Ludlow, in his usual supercilious manner, which, to a man of a temper less mild than the captain, would have been very galling. "I, of course, have other designs for him than to lead the life of a sailor."

When Mr Ludlow and Stephen had taken their departure, he could not help repeating to himself, "he may be alive on one of the many islands which stud parts of the Pacific. The sailor's story may be true, or it may be only dear Margery's fancy. It is but natural that she should indulge in it; I would that I had health and strength, and the means to go out and search for the dear boy--dear whether alive or dead."

That evening the captain spoke of their boy to his wife. He would not venture to raise her hopes. He scarcely hinted at the possibility of his having escaped from the wreck, and yet he spoke of such things having happened to others. Margaret's reply was, "G.o.d's will be done.

He knows what is kept for us in all respects."

In the meantime, Stephen had told Margery that his father objected decidedly to his becoming a sailor, that he might go and look for her brother Jack; an announcement which the young lady received with much dignity, and an expression of contempt on her pretty countenance which it was not wont to wear.

"Of course, Mr Stephen Ludlow, you are right in doing what your father wishes," she observed; "and now I think over the matter you are not at all fitted to become a sailor. Sailors are true friends--generous, brave, kind, and liberal; I was mistaken when I supposed that you were likely to possess those qualities. Good-bye. I do not want to quarrel with you, but now you know what I think."

Margery was not aware how severe her words might have sounded. Stephen did not fully understand their meaning, but he felt very sheepish, and had an idea that it would probably be some time before he again paid a visit to Stormount Tower. Margery had, however, far from abandoned her idea. She had for some time naturally thought that Charley Blount would be the proper person to perform her behests, and she felt certain that he would very gladly undertake the task she might a.s.sign him. She put the matter before him, and to her great delight he at once undertook her mission.

"I cannot say that your brother Jack is alive," he observed; "but this I promise, that if he is I will do my utmost to find him and bring him home."

CHAPTER TEN.

CHARLEY GOES TO SEA--A GALLANT COMRADE--COOLNESS OF ISLANDERS--THE SAVAGES.

"May Heaven bless and prosper you, my boy!" said Captain Askew, as Charley Blount was prepared to start for Liverpool, where he expected to get a berth on board some ship bound for the sh.o.r.es of the Pacific. He had letters of introduction to Jack's old friend, now Captain c.u.mming, who resided at Birkenhead, on the other side of the Mersey, and to other friends of Captain Askew, so that his way would be likely to be made smooth.

His parting with the inmates of the Tower need not be fully described.

Neither Mrs Askew nor Margery dared trust themselves with words. Becky gave him a hug, such as he was not accustomed to receive as she whispered, "Bring him back, Mr Charley, bring him back, oh do!"

"If the lad's above board you'll find him out, I know you will, Mr Charles," said old Tom, heartily wringing his hand. He modestly replied that he would do his best; and that, with a person of spirit and energy, signifies a good deal.

He was not going altogether without pecuniary means. Captain Askew had raised every shilling he could for the undertaking, and he felt sure that Captain c.u.mming would get friends at Liverpool to help him yet further. He soon reached that city, and when his object became known, although many declared that it was visionary, he had, from the liberality of merchants and others, ample supplies placed at his disposal, which he was to employ as he considered best. He without delay obtained a berth on board the _Southern Cross_, Captain Harper, as fourth mate, with the understanding that he should be allowed to quit the ship after she had reached the coast of Peru, where she was to take a fresh cargo on board.

The _Southern Cross_ was a well-found ship, Captain Harper, an upright man and a good seaman, and with the other officers and the crew, Charley was on his first acquaintance tolerably well pleased.

He enjoyed the sensation, which few but seamen can enjoy after some time spent on sh.o.r.e, when he once more trod the deck moved by the buoyant waves, as the good ship pursued her southward course over the Atlantic, and he thought of the enterprise in which he was engaged. Most of his shipmates, as many people on sh.o.r.e had done, thought his undertaking preposterous, and said that to search for a lad he had never seen, among the thousand and one isles of the Pacific, and who probably had been drowned, or eaten by the savages years ago, was more ridiculous than looking for a needle in a bundle of hay. Charley, however, kept, if not to his own opinion, to that which Margery, at all events, entertained, and got two young shipmates, midshipmen, to join him in it. Hugh Owen, an enthusiastic Welshman, and Edward Elton, a quiet and unpretending English lad who had been three years at sea. He was pale-faced and small of his age, his eyes were blue and his features regular, and in a crowd he would have been the last selected to do a daring deed; and yet no bolder or braver lad was to be found on board, and there was no act of heroism of which those who knew him would not have believed him capable.

Charley Blount was not much senior to either of the lads, but having been to sea longer, was their superior in rank. Off duty he treated them as equals, and the three young men soon formed a sincere friendship for each other.

The Falkland Islands were visited to obtain a supply of fresh provisions and water, and then the ship steered west round Cape Horn into the Pacific. Just, however, as that mighty headland was sighted there sprang up a fierce gale from the westward, which drove the _Southern Cross_ back into the Atlantic, the huge billows rising up like mountains to bar her progress. But her captain well knew that perseverance alone could overcome this as it can conquer most difficulties, and she was kept under close-reefed sails, now with her head to the south, now to the north, ready to take advantage of any slant of wind which might enable her to work her way to the westward. The wind had fallen, and once more sail was made.

It was night, and Charley Blount had a watch on deck, when without warning down came the gale on the ship with greater fury than before.

With a crack like a clap of thunder the main-topgallant-yard parted and hung by the lifts, dashing furiously against the topsail, and threatening to carry away the topmast. "It is my duty to clear that,"

exclaimed Charley, not waiting to be ordered or asked to go, for it was a task of the greatest peril, which only volunteers alone would be expected to attempt. Seizing an axe, he flew aloft.

"Heaven protect the bold fellow!" exclaimed the captain, who had hurried on deck.

Young Elton had also come, up from below. One part of the task was done when Charley's axe was torn from his grasp, and he was seized by the coils of a loose rope, lashing furiously, while the remaining part of the spar came whirling round his head. His terrific position could be seen from the deck, and the great danger any one would incur in going near him could be equally well perceived. Not a moment, however, did young Elton hesitate. Scarcely had the accident happened than he was flying up the ratlines amid the clouds of spray which drove across them.

The ship was heeling over and pitching into the seas as if never to rise again, the masts were bending and straining, and the broken spar was flying round, now in one direction, now in the other, and threatening to render the brave young Elton's attempt useless, by hurling Charley Blount to destruction before he could release him, while the least want of vigilance would have proved equally fatal to himself.