Courage, True Hearts Part 2

Yes, the laird himself journeyed with his boys as far as Leith, and saw them safe on board.

When the good s.h.i.+p steamed away at last, he waved them a silent adieu, then turned and walked quickly away.

CHAPTER II.--HURRAH FOR "MERRIE ENGLAND"!

Neither Duncan nor Conal was a bad sailor, for, their father's estate being near the western sea, many a long summer's day they spent in open boats, and they sometimes went out with the herring-fishers and were heard of no more for clays.

But this was to be a voyage of more than ordinary rigours, for, as bad luck would have it, a gale of wind arose, with tremendous seas, soon after they pa.s.sed Berwick.

The waves made a clean breach over the unfortunate s.h.i.+p, and at midnight, when the storm was at its worst, the boys were suddenly awakened by the strange rolling motion of the steamer, and they knew at once that some terrible accident had happened.

The engines had stopped, for the shaft was broken; and high over the roaring of the terrible wind they could hear the captain shouting:

"All hands on deck!"

"Hands make sail!"

It was but little sail she could carry, indeed, and that only fore-and-afters, jib and stay-sails.

The boys had a cabin all to themselves, and the companions.h.i.+p of honest Viking, the Newfoundland. The poor dog did not know what to make of his situation. If he thought at all, and no doubt dogs do think, he must have wondered why his masters should have forsaken their beautiful home, their wanderings over the hills still clad in crimson heather, or through the forests deep and dark, for a life like this; but to the lower animals the ways of mankind are inscrutable, just as those of a higher power are to us. We are G.o.ds to the pets we cherish, and they are content to believe in and trust us, never doubting that all is for the best. Alas! we ourselves hardly put the same trust in the good G.o.d who made us, and cares for us, as our innocent dogs do in those who own them.

"Well, Conal," said Duncan, "this is, indeed, a wild night. I wonder if we are going to Davie Jones's locker, as sailors call it?"

"I don't think so. The captain is a long-headed fellow. I guess he knows what he is up to."

"I shall light the candles anyhow. I don't like to lie awake in the dark. Do you?"

"Not much. If I was to be drowned I think I would like it to come off in good daylight."

After a scramble, during which he was pitched three times on the deck, once right on top of the dog, Duncan succeeded in lighting the candles.

These were hung in gimbals, so that the motion of the s.h.i.+p did not affect them.

It was more cheerful now; so, having little desire to go to sleep, knowing that the s.h.i.+p must really be in danger, they lay and talked to each other. Talked of home, of course, but more about the great and wondrous city of London, which, if G.o.d spared the s.h.i.+p, they soon should see.

Presently a bigger wave than any that had come before it struck the s.h.i.+p, and seemed to heel her over right on her beam-ends, so that Duncan almost tumbled out of his berth.

A deep silence followed, broken only by the rush of water into the boys'

cabin.

Viking sprang right into Conal's berth, and crouched, shaking and quivering in terror, at his feet.

There was half a foot of water on the cabin deck.

The worst seemed to be over, however, for presently sail was got on her, and though the wind continued to rave and howl through the rigging, she was on a more even keel and much steadier.

Presently the captain himself had a peep into the lads' state-room.

He had a bronzed but cheerful face, and was clad in oil-skins from his sou'-wester hat to his boots.

"Not afraid, are you, boys? No? Well, that's right. We have broken down, and it will be many days before we get into London; but we'll manage all right, and I think the wind is just a little easier already."

"So we won't go to Davie Jones's to-night, will we, captain?"

"Not if I know it, lad. Now, my advice is this: go to sleep, and--er--well, there can be no harm if you say your prayers before you do drop off."

The boys took his advice, and were soon fast in the arms of Morpheus.

So, too, was honest Viking. He was one of those dogs who know when they are well off, so he preferred remaining in Conal's bunk to descending to the wet deck again. To show his sympathy, he gave the boy one of his huge paws to hold, and so hand-in-hand they fell asleep.

The wind was still blowing when they sat down to breakfast with the captain and first mate, for there was not another pa.s.senger on board save themselves. The old saying, "The more the merrier", does not apply to coasting steamers in early winter. The fewer the easier--that is more truthful.

The gale was a gale no longer, but a steady breeze. The s.h.i.+p was given a good offing, for the wind blew from the north-east, and to be too close to a lee sh.o.r.e is at all times dangerous.

But how very snug and cosy the saloon looked, when they were all gathered around the brightly-burning stove that night.

The skipper could tell many a good story, and the first mate also could spin a yarn or two, for they had both been far away at sea in distant climes, and both hoped to get ocean-going s.h.i.+ps again.

So there they sat and chatted--s.h.i.+p-master and man, with their tumblers of hot grog on the top of the stove--till six bells in the middle watch.

Then the boys and Viking retired.

"I say, Conal," said Duncan that evening, just before turning in, "I think I should like to be a sailor."

"Well," replied Conal, "I should like to visit far-away countries, where hardly anybody had ever been before, and try to make some money just to be able to help father in his difficulties."

"Poor father, yes. Well, young fellows have made money before now."

"Ay," said Conal, who was wise beyond his years; "but, brother, they had a nest-egg to begin with. Now, we have nothing."

"Nonsense, Conal; we have clear heads, we have a good education, and we have a pair of willing hands each. That makes a good outfit, Conal, and many a one has conquered fate with far less."

The voyage to London was a long and tedious one, for they had to struggle for days against head-winds, and tack and half tack isn't the quickest way to a port.

But long before they reached the mouth of the Thames, and were taken in tow by a tug-boat, the boys had cemented quite a friends.h.i.+p with Captain Talbot and his mate Morgan. They promised to correspond, and the honest skipper told them that he had a great project on, and that if it came to a head, he would be willing to take them both to sea with him as apprentices, if their father would let them go. This was real good news for our young heroes, and they parted from Talbot happy and hopeful.

Morgan, the mate, put them up to the ropes as to getting to Colonel Trelawney's residence, and a good thing it was that he did so, else a.s.suredly they would have lost themselves. A bargain was made with a cabman, and he agreed for a certain sum to drive them all the way.

It was a damp and miserable day, the streets were inches deep in slimy mud, the houses all gray and dismal.

No wonder that the hearts of these two boys, accustomed to the green grandeur of forests and crimson-clad Highland hills, sank within them, as they gazed from the windows of their cab.

Was this the beautiful London they had heard tell of and expected to see? Nothing but discomfort and misery met their eyes at first, and when the conveyance stopped now and then, blocked by carts and wagons, they found they could scarcely understand a word of the jargon that fell on their ears from every side.

"Moaning piper!" cried a ragged urchin, shoving a newspaper right under Duncan's nose.