Michael Penguyne Part 13

"We needs be to get out of the storm, dame," answered one of the boys.

"Father told us to make haste home; but he has gone off in the 'Rescue'

with Uncle Reuben Lanaherne to look after the 'Sea-Gull,' which they say has lost her mast, and was seen driving on the Gull Rock; there is little hope of any of the poor lads escaping aboard her."

"What is that you say," shrieked poor Nelly; "the 'Sea-Gull' driving on sh.o.r.e?"

"I forgot, Mistress Nelly, that Michael Penguyne was aboard her,"

answered the thoughtless boy. "I would not have said it to frighten you so, but it may be father and the others will find them if they are not all drowned before they get there."

"O granny, I was afraid something dreadful was happening," exclaimed Nelly, gasping for breath. "I must go down to the harbour's mouth. I do not mind the wind and rain; don't stop me, granny," for Dame Lanreath had taken Nelly's arm, thinking she was about to fall, she trembled so violently. "Let me go, granny, that I may hold him in my arms, and warm him, and breathe into his mouth when he is brought on sh.o.r.e. Oh, I shall die if I stay at home, and he out struggling maybe for life in the cold foaming seas."

"But the lads may be mistaken, dear Nelly," urged Dame Lanreath; "it may not be the 'Sea-Gull' that has met with the damage, and if she has Michael and the rest, who are stout lads and know how to handle her, they may manage to keep her off the rocks, and get in safe notwithstanding."

Nelly, however, was not to be reasoned with. She knew the way to the harbour's mouth in the darkest night as well as by daylight; the rain and wind were nothing to her, and if Michael had got safe on sh.o.r.e her anxiety would the sooner be set at rest, and she should be ready to welcome him.

The dame, finding that she could not persuade Nelly to remain at home, insisted on accompanying her, for though she had tried to make her believe that Michael would return in safety, she herself could not help entertaining the fear that he had shared the fate of the many she had known in her time who had lost their lives on the treacherous ocean.

Nelly was not selfish, and though she felt that she must go forth, she was anxious that her granny should not again face the cruel storm. The dame, however, was determined to go, for she felt scarcely less anxiety than Nelly.

"Well, Nelly," she said at length, "if you won't let me go with you, I will just go by myself, and you must stay at home till I come back and tell you that Michael has got on sh.o.r.e all safe."

Nelly yielded. She and the dame set off.

They had a fierce battle to fight with the storm, which blew directly in their faces. They worked their way onwards, holding their cloaks tight round them.

They at last reached the rocky point where, by the light of the beacon, they saw a group of men and women and boys and girls collected, with their gaze turned seaward, waiting anxiously for the appearance of the boat which had gone out over the dark and troubled ocean in search of their missing friends.

The dame and Nelly anxiously inquired what had happened. The answer made their hearts sink: the "Sea-Gull" had last been seen driving towards the rocks in an almost helpless condition; she might drop an anchor, but there was little expectation that it would hold. The only hope was that she might be reached before she was finally dashed to pieces, and those on board her had perished.

CHAPTER TEN.

The "Rescue" gallantly made her way amid the dark foam-crested seas, which rolled in from the westward, each appearing heavier than its predecessor.

Uncle Reuben kept gazing out ahead in anxious search of his little vessel, now encouraging his crew with the hopes that they would soon reach the spot which she must have reached, feeling his own heart, however, sink within him as he sought in vain to find her across the wildly tossing waters. The men needed no encouragement: they knew as well as he did that every moment was precious, and yet that after all they might arrive too late. Eban pulled as hard as the rest; he would do his utmost to save the crew of the "Sea-Gull," yet he darkly hoped that their efforts might be vain.

On they pulled; often Reuben had to turn the boat's head to breast a threatening sea which, caught on the broadside, might have hurled her over. Now again he urged his crew to redoubled efforts during a temporary lull.

For some time he had been silent, keeping his eye on a dark spot ahead.

It must be the "Sea-Gull." She was already fearfully near the rocks.

The water there was too deep to allow her anchor to hold long, if holding it was at all. Another fierce wave came rolling towards them.

Eager as Uncle Reuben was to make his way onward, he was compelled to put the boat's head towards it, and to give all his attention to avoid being buried beneath the foaming billows. The boat rose safely to its summit. A glance seaward told him that now was the time once more to make way to the south. He looked eagerly for his little vessel; the same sea had struck her. He caught but one glimpse of her hull as she was dashed helplessly against the rocks. Still some of those on board might escape. Every effort must be made to save them. Though Reuben told his crew what had happened, none hesitated to pull on.

The boat approached the rock, her crew shouted to encourage those who might be clinging to it.

The "Sea-Gull" had struck on the northernmost point, within which the sea, though surging and boiling, was comparatively quiet; and Reuben was thus enabled to get nearer to the rock than he could have ventured to do on the outside, where it broke with a fury which would quickly have overwhelmed the boat.

Two men were distinguished through the gloom clinging to the rock, at the foot of which fragments of the hapless "Sea-Gull" were tossing up and down in the foaming waves. Another sea such as that which wrecked their vessel might at any moment wash the men from their hold. A rope was hove to them, they fastened it round their waists and were dragged on board. They proved to be Reuben's two sons.

The father's heart was relieved, but he thought of his brave young captain.

"Where is Michael, where are the rest?" he exclaimed.

"Gone, gone, father, I fear!" was the answer.

"No, no! I see two more clinging to a spar!" shouted one of the men.

"The sea is carrying it away, but the next will hurl it back on the rocks, and Heaven protect them, for the life will be knocked out of their bodies."

To approach the spot in the boat, however, was impossible without the certainty of her being dashed to pieces.

"Here, hand the bight of the rope to me," shouted Eban, starting up; "I am the best swimmer among you--if any one can save them I can."

As he uttered the words he sprang overboard, and with powerful strokes made his way towards the drowning men, while the rest, pulling hard, kept the boat off the rocks, to which she was perilously near.

"Here, here, take him, he is almost gone," said one of the men in the water, as Eban approached them. "I can hold on longer."

Eban, grasping the man round the waist and shouting to those in the boat, was hauled up to her stern with his burden. Reuben, a.s.sisted by the man pulling the stroke oar, lifted the rescued man into the boat, and Eban once more dashed off to try and save the other.

"Who is it? who is it?" asked the crew, with one voice, for the darkness prevented them from distinguis.h.i.+ng his countenance.

No one replied. Reuben hoped it might be Michael--but all his attention was required for the management of the boat, and the rescued man, exhausted, if not severely injured, was unable to reply himself.

Eban was gallantly striking out towards the man who still clung to the spar, but he had miscalculated his strength--he made less rapid way than at first. A cry reached him, "Help, mate! help!" He redoubled his efforts; but before he could reach the spot he saw a hand raised up, and as he grasped the spar he found that it was deserted. The brave fellow, whoever he was, had sacrificed his own life to save that of his drowning companion.

Eban, feeling that his own strength was going, shouted to those in the boat to haul him on board, and he was himself well-nigh exhausted when lifted over the side. One of Reuben's sons took his oar.

All further search for their missing friends proved in vain, and though thankful that some had been saved, with sad hearts they commenced their perilous return to the harbour.

Reuben's younger son, Simon Lanaherne, had gone aft and sat down by the side of the rescued man.

"He is coming to, I believe."

"Which of the poor lads is he, Simon?" asked his father.

Simon felt the man's face and dress, bending his head down to try and scan his features.

"I cannot quite make out; but I am nearly sure it is Michael Penguyne,"

answered Simon.

"I am main glad if it be he, for poor Nelly's sake," said Reuben. "Pull up your starboard oars, lads, here comes a sea," he shouted, and a tremendous wave came curling up from the westward.

The attention of every one was engaged in encountering the threatened danger.

"Michael Penguyne! have I saved him?" muttered Eban Cowan, with a deep groan. "He was destined to live through all dangers, then, and Nelly is lost to me. Fool that I was to risk my life when I might have lot him drown. No one could have said that I was guilty of his death."

Human ear did not listen to the words he uttered, and a voice came to him, "You would have been guilty of his death if you could have saved him and would not."

He had recovered sufficiently to sit up, and, as he gazed at the angry sea around, his experienced eye told him that even now he and all with him might be engulfed beneath it ere they could reach the sh.o.r.e.