diff options
Diffstat (limited to '10849-h/10849-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 10849-h/10849-h.htm | 2427 |
1 files changed, 2427 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/10849-h/10849-h.htm b/10849-h/10849-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b7db79 --- /dev/null +++ b/10849-h/10849-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2427 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of + Saved at Sea, + by Mrs O.F. Walton. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 12pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced; } + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10849 ***</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<center> +<img src="./images/i_p000.png" width="470" height="717" +alt="On the Look out."> +</center> +<p> </p> + +<h1>SAVED AT SEA</h1> + +<center> +<b>A Lighthouse Story</b> +</center> +<p> </p> +<center> +<b>BY MRS O.F. WALTON </b> +</center> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<center> +AUTHOR OF 'CHRISTIE'S OLD ORGAN'<br> +'A PEEP BEHIND THE SCENES'<br> +'LITTLE DOT' ETC. +</center> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<hr> + +<a name="TOC"><!-- TOC --></a> +<h2> + CONTENTS +</h2> + +<pre> + CHAPTER +</pre> +<pre> +<a href="#CH1">I. MY STRANGE HOME</a> +<a href="#CH2">II. THE FLARE AT SEA</a> +<a href="#CH3">III. THE BUNDLE SAVED</a> +<a href="#CH4">IV. LITTLE TIMPEY</a> +<a href="#CH5">V. THE UNCLAIMED SUNBEAM</a> +<a href="#CH6">VI. THE OLD GENTLEMAN'S QUESTION</a> +<a href="#CH7">VII. A THICK FOG</a> +<a href="#CH8">VIII. WAITING FOR THE BOAT</a> +<a href="#CH9">IX. A CHANGE IN THE LIGHTHOUSE</a> +<a href="#CH10">X. OUR NEW NEIGHBOUR</a> +<a href="#CH11">XI. ON THE ROCK</a> +<a href="#CH12">XII. THE SUNBEAM CLAIMED</a> +</pre> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<a name="RULE4_1"><!-- RULE4 1 --></a> +<h2> + SAVED AT SEA. +</h2> + +<hr> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH1"><!-- CH1 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER I. +</h2> + +<center> +MY STRANGE HOME. +</center> + +<p> +It was a strange day, the day that I was born. The waves were beating +against the lighthouse, and the wind was roaring and raging against +everything. Had not the lighthouse been built very firmly into the +strong solid rock, it, and all within it, must have been swept into the +deep wild sea. +</p> +<p> +It was a terrible storm. My grandfather said he had never known such a +storm since he came to live on the island, more than forty years before. +</p> +<p> +Many ships went down in the storm that day, and many lives were lost. +But in the very midst of it, when the wind was highest, and the waves +were strongest, and when the foam and the spray had completely covered +the lighthouse windows, I, Alick Fergusson, was born. +</p> +<p> +I was born on a strange day, and I was born into a strange home. The +lighthouse stood on an island, four miles distant from any land. The +island was not very large; if you stood in the middle of it, you could +see the sea all round you—that sea which was sometimes so blue and +peaceful, and at other times was as black as ink, and roaring and +thundering on the rocky shores of the little island. At one side of the +island, on a steep rock overhanging the sea, stood the lighthouse. Night +by night as soon as it began to grow dark the lighthouse lamps were +lighted. +</p> +<p> +I can remember how I used to admire those lights as a child. I would sit +for hours watching them revolve and change in colour. First, there was a +white light, then a blue one, then a red one, then a green one—then a +white one again. And, as the ships went by, they always kept a look-out +for our friendly lights, and avoided the rocks of which they warned +them. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather, old Sandy Fergusson, was one of the lighthouse men, +whose duty it was always to keep these lamps in order and to light them +every night. He was a clever, active old man, and did his work well and +cheerfully. His great desire was to be able to hold on at his post till +I should be able to take his place. +</p> +<p> +At the time when my story begins I was nearly twelve years old, and +daily growing taller and stronger. My grandfather was very proud of me, +and said I should soon be a young man, and then he should get me +appointed in his place to look after the lighthouse. +</p> +<p> +I was very fond of my strange home, and would not have changed it for +any other. Many people would have thought it dull, for we seldom saw a +strange face, and the lighthouse men were only allowed to go on shore +for a few hours once in every two months. But I was very happy, and +thought there was no place in the world like our little island. +</p> +<p> +Close to the tower of the lighthouse was the house in which I and my +grandfather lived. It was not a large house, but it was a very pleasant +one. All the windows looked out over the sea, and plenty of sharp sea +air came in whenever they were opened. All the furniture in the house +belonged to the lighthouse, and had been there long before my +grandfather came to live there. Our cups and saucers and plates had the +name of the lighthouse on them in large gilt letters, and a little +picture of the lighthouse with the waves dashing round it. I used to +think them very pretty when I was a boy. +</p> +<p> +We had not many neighbours. There was only one other house on the +island, and it was built on the other side of the lighthouse tower. The +house belonged to Mr. Millar, who shared the care of the lighthouse with +my grandfather. Just outside the two houses was a court, with a pump in +the middle, from which we got our water. There was a high wall all +round this court, to make a little shelter for us from the stormy wind. +</p> +<p> +Beyond this court were two gardens, divided by an iron railing. The +Millars' garden was very untidy and forlorn, and filled with nettles, +and thistles, and groundsel, and all kinds of weeds, for Mr. Millar did +not care for gardening, and Mrs. Millar had six little children, and had +no time to look after it. +</p> +<p> +But our garden was the admiration of every one who visited the island. +My grandfather and I were at work in it every fine day, and took a pride +in keeping it as neat as possible. Although it was so near the sea, our +garden produced most beautiful vegetables and fruit, and the borders +were filled with flowers, cabbage-roses, and pansies, and wall-flowers, +and many other hardy plants which were not afraid of the sea air. +</p> +<p> +Outside the garden was a good-sized field—full of small hillocks, +over which the wild rabbits and hares, with which the island abounded, +were continually scampering. In this field were kept a cow and two +goats, to supply the two families with milk and butter. Beyond it was +the rocky shore, and a little pier built out into the sea. +</p> + +<center> +<img src="./images/i_p014.png" width="504" height="819" +alt="The Landing Stage"> +</center> + +<p> +On this pier I used to stand every Monday morning, to watch for the +steamer which called at the island once a week. It was a great event to +us when the steamer came. My grandfather and I, and Mr. and Mrs. Millar +and the children, all came down to the shore to welcome it. This steamer +brought our provisions for the week, from a town some miles off, and +often brought a letter for Mr. Millar, or a newspaper for my +grandfather. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather did not get many letters, for there were not many people +that he knew. He had lived on that lonely island the greater part of his +life, and had been quite shut out from the world. All his relations were +dead now, except my father, and what had become of him we did not know. +I had never seen him, for he went away some time before I was born. +</p> +<p> +My father was a sailor, a fine, tall, strong young fellow, my +grandfather used to say. He had brought my mother to the island, and +left her in my grandfather's care whilst he went on a voyage to +Australia. He went from the island in that same little steamer which +called every Monday morning. My grandfather stood on the end of the pier +as the steamer went out of sight, and my mother waved her handkerchief +to him as long as any smoke was seen on the horizon. Grandfather has +often told me how young and pretty she looked that summer morning. My +father had promised to write soon, but no letter ever came. Mother went +down to the pier every Monday morning for three long years, to see if it +had brought her any word from her sailor husband. +</p> +<p> +But after a time her step became slower and her face paler, and at last +she was too weak to go down the rocks to the pier, when the steamer +arrived on Monday morning. And soon after this I was left motherless. +</p> +<p> +From that day, the day on which my mother died, my grandfather became +both father and mother to me. There was nothing he would not have done +for me, and wherever he went and whatever he did, I was always by his +side. +</p> +<p> +As I grew older, he taught me to read and write, for there was of course +no school which I could attend. I also learnt to help him to trim the +lamps, and to work in the garden. Our life went on very evenly from day +to day, until I was about twelve years old. I used to wish sometimes +that something new would happen to make a little change on the island. +And at last a change came. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH2"><!-- CH2 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER II. +</h2> + +<center> +THE FLARE AT SEA. +</center> +<p> +My grandfather and I were sitting at tea one dark November evening. We +had been digging in the garden the whole morning, but in the afternoon +it had become so wet and stormy that we had remained indoors. +</p> +<p> +We were sitting quietly at our tea, planning what we would do the next +day, when the door suddenly opened and Mr. Millar put his head in. +</p> +<p> +'Sandy, quick!' he said. 'Look here!' My grandfather and I ran to the +door, and looked out over the sea. There, about three miles to the +north of us, we saw a bright flare of light. It blazed up for a moment +or two, lighting up the wild and stormy sky, and then it went out, and +all was darkness again. +</p> +<p> +'What is it, grandfather?' I asked. But he did not answer me. +</p> +<p> +'There's no time to lose, Jem,' he said; "out with the boat, my man!" +</p> +<p> +'It's an awful sea,' said Millar, looking at the waves beating fiercely +against the rocks. +</p> +<p> +'Never mind, Jem,' said my grandfather; 'we must do our best.' So the +two men went down to the shore, and I followed them. +</p> +<p> +'What is it, grandfather?' I asked again. +</p> +<p> +'There's something wrong out there,' said he, pointing to the place +where we had seen the light. 'That's the flare they always make when +they're in danger and want help at once.' +</p> +<p> +'Are you going to them, grandfather?' I said. +</p> +<p> +'Yes, if we can get the boat out,' he said. 'Now, Jem, are you ready?' +</p> +<p> +'Let me go with you, grandfather,' I said; 'I might be able to help.' +</p> +<p> +'All right, my lad,' he said; 'we'll try if we can get her off.' +</p> +<p> +I can see that scene with my mind's eye as though it were but yesterday. +My grandfather and Mr. Millar straining every nerve to row the boat from +land, whilst I clung on to one of the seats, and tried in vain to steer +her. I can see poor Mrs. Millar standing on the pier, with her shawl +over her head, watching us, and two of her little girls clinging to her +dress. I can see the waves, which seemed to be rising higher every +moment, and ready to beat our little boat to pieces. And I can see my +grandfather's disappointed face, as, after many a fruitless attempt, he +was obliged to give it up. +</p> +<p> +'It's no use, I'm afraid, Jem,' he said at last; 'we haven't hands +enough to manage her.' +</p> +<p> +So we got to shore as best we could, and paced up and down the little +pier. We could see nothing more. It was a very dark night, and all was +perfect blackness over the sea. +</p> +<p> +The lighthouse lamps were burning brightly; they had been lighted more +than two hours before. It was Millar's turn to watch, so he went up to +the tower, and my grandfather and I remained on the pier. +</p> +<p> +'Can nothing be done, grandfather?' +</p> +<p> +'I'm afraid not, my lad. We can't make any way against such a sea as +this; if it goes down a bit, we'll have another try at it.' +</p> +<p> +But the sea did not go down. We walked up and down the pier almost in +silence. +</p> +<p> +Presently a rocket shot up into the sky, evidently from the same place +where we had seen the flare. +</p> +<p> +'There she is again, Alick! Poor things! I wonder how many of them there +is.' +</p> +<p> +'Can we do nothing at all?' I asked again. +</p> +<p> +'No, my lad,' he said; 'the sea's too much for us. It's a terrible +night. It puts me in mind of the day you were born.' +</p> +<p> +So the night wore away. We never thought of going to bed, but walked up +and down the pier, with our eyes fixed on the place where we had seen +the lights. Every now and then, for some hours, rockets were sent up; +and then they ceased, and we saw nothing. +</p> +<p> +'They've got no more with them,' said my grandfather. 'Poor things! it's +a terrible bad job.' +</p> +<p> +'What's wrong with them, grandfather?' I asked. 'Are there rocks over +there?' +</p> +<p> +'Yes, there's the Ainslie Crag just there; it's a nasty place that—a +very nasty place. Many a fine ship has been lost there!' +</p> +<p> +At last the day began to dawn; a faint grey light spread over the sea. +We could distinguish now the masts of a ship in the far distance. 'There +she is, poor thing!' said my grandfather, pointing in the direction of +the ship. 'She's close on Ainslie Crag—I thought so!' +</p> +<p> +'The wind's gone down a bit now, hasn't it?' I asked. +</p> +<p> +'Yes, and the sea's a bit stiller just now,' he said. 'Give Jem a call, +Alick.' +</p> +<p> +Jem Millar hastened down to the pier with his arms full of rope. +</p> +<p> +'All right, Jem, my lad,' said my grandfather. 'Let's be off; I think we +may manage it now.' +</p> +<p> +So we jumped into the boat, and put off from the pier. It was a fearful +struggle with the wind and waves, and for a long time we seemed to make +no way against them. Both the men were much exhausted, and Jem Millar +seemed ready to give in. +</p> +<p> +'Cheer up, Jem, my lad,' said my grandfather; 'think of all the poor +fellows out there. Let's have one more try!' +</p> +<p> +So they made a mighty effort, and the pier was left a little way behind. +Slowly, very slowly, we made that distance greater; slowly, very slowly, +Mrs. Millar, who was standing on the shore, faded from our sight, and +the masts of the ship in distress seemed to grow a little more near. Yet +the waves were still fearfully strong, and appeared ready, every moment, +to swallow up our little boat. Would my grandfather and Millar ever be +able to hold on till they reached the ship, which was still more than +two miles away? +</p> +<p> +'What's that?' I cried, as I caught sight of a dark object, rising and +falling with the waves. +</p> +<p> +'It's a boat, surely!' said my grandfather 'Look, Jem! +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH3"><!-- CH3 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER III. +</h2> + +<center> +THE BUNDLE SAVED. +</center> +<p> +It <i>was</i> a boat of which I had caught sight—a boat bottom upwards. A +minute afterwards it swept close past us, so near that we could almost +touch it. +</p> +<p> +'They've lost their boat. Pull away, Jem!' +</p> +<p> +'Oh, grandfather!' I said,—and the wind was so high, I could only make +him hear by shouting,—'grandfather, do you think the boat was full?' +</p> +<p> +'No,' he said. 'I think they've tried to put her off, and she's been +swept away. Keep up, Jem!' For Jem Millar, who was not a strong man, +seemed ready to give in. +</p> +<p> +We were now considerably more than half-way between the boat and the +ship. It seemed as if those on board had caught sight of us, for another +rocket went up. They had evidently kept one back, as a last hope, in +case any one should pass by. +</p> +<p> +As we drew nearer, we could see that it was a large ship, and we could +distinguish many forms moving about on deck. +</p> +<p> +'Poor fellows! poor fellows!' said my grandfather. 'Pull away, Jem!' +</p> +<p> +Nearer and nearer we came to the ship, till at length we could see her +quite distinctly. She had struck on Ainslie Crag, and her stern was +under water, and the waves were beating wildly on her deck. We could see +men clinging to the rigging which remained, and holding on to the +broken masts of the ship. +</p> +<p> +I shall <i>never</i> forget that sight to my dying day! My grandfather and +Jem Millar saw it, and they pulled on desperately. +</p> +<p> +And now we were so near to the vessel that had it not been for the storm +which was raging, we could have spoken to those on board. Again and +again we tried to come alongside the shattered ship, but were swept away +by the rush of the strong, resistless waves. +</p> +<p> +Several of the sailors came to the side of the ship, and threw out a +rope to us. It was long before we could catch it, but at last, as we +were being carried past it, I clutched it, and my grandfather +immediately made it secure. +</p> +<p> +'Now!' he cried. 'Steady, Jem! we shall save some of them yet!' and he +pulled the boat as near as possible to the ship. +</p> +<p> +Oh! how my heart beat that moment, as I looked at the men and women all +crowding towards the place where the rope was fastened. +</p> +<p> +'We can't take them all,' said my grandfather anxiously; 'we must cut +the rope when we've got as many as the boat will carry.' +</p> +<p> +I shuddered, as I thought of those who would be left behind. +</p> +<p> +We had now come so close to the ship that the men on board would be able +to watch their opportunity, and jump into the boat whenever a great wave +was past, and there was a lull for a moment in the storm. +</p> +<p> +'Look out, Jem!' cried my grandfather. 'Here's the first' +</p> +<p> +A man was standing by the rope, with what appeared to be a bundle in +his arms. The moment we came near, he seized his opportunity and threw +it to us. My grandfather caught it. +</p> + +<center> +<img src="./images/i_p032.png" width="728" height="499" +alt="'It's a Child, Alick', He Said, 'Put It Down by You'"> +</center> + +<p> +'It's a child, Alick!' he said; 'put it down by you.' +</p> +<p> +I put the bundle at my feet, and my grandfather cried, 'Now another; +quick, my lads!' +</p> +<p> +But at this moment Jem Millar seized his arm. 'Sandy! look out!' he +almost shrieked. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather turned round. A mighty wave, bigger than any I had seen +before, was coming towards us. In another moment we should have been +dashed by its violence against the ship, and all have perished. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather hastily let go the rope, and we just got out of the way +of the ship before the wave reached us. And then came a noise, loud as +a terrible thunder-clap, as the mighty wave dashed against Ainslie Crag. +I could hardly breathe, so dreadful was the moment! +</p> +<p> +'Now back again for some more!' cried my grandfather, when the wave had +passed. +</p> +<p> +We looked round, but the ship was gone! It had disappeared like a dream +when one awakes, as if it had never been. That mighty wave had broken +its back, and shattered it into a thousand fragments. Nothing was to be +seen of the ship or its crew but a few floating pieces of timber. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather and Millar pulled hastily to the spot, but it was some +time before we could reach it, for we had been carried by the sea almost +a mile away, and the storm seemed to be increasing in violence. +</p> +<p> +When at last we reached that terrible Ainslie Crag, we were too late to +save a single life; we could not find one of those on board. The +greater number no doubt had been carried down in the vortex made by the +sinking ship, and the rest had risen and sunk again long before we +reached them. +</p> +<p> +For some time we battled with the waves, unwilling to relinquish all +hope of saving some of them. But we found at last that it was of no use, +and we were obliged to return. +</p> +<p> +All had perished, except the child lying at my feet. I stooped down to +it, and could hear that it was crying, but it was so tightly tied up in +a blanket that I could not see it nor release it. +</p> +<p> +We had to strain every nerve to reach the lighthouse. It was not so hard +returning as going, for the wind was in our favour, but the sea was +still strong, and we were often in great danger. I kept my eyes fixed +on the lighthouse lamps, and steered the boat as straight as I could. +Oh! how thankful we were to see those friendly lights growing nearer. +And at last the pier came in sight, and Mrs. Millar still standing there +watching us. +</p> +<p> +'Have you got none of them?' she said, as we came up the steps. +</p> +<p> +'Nothing but a child,' said my grandfather sadly. 'Only one small child, +that's all. Well, we did our very best, Jem, my lad.' +</p> +<p> +Jem was following my grandfather, with the oars over his shoulder. I +came last, with that little bundle in my arms. +</p> +<p> +The child had stopped crying now, and seemed to be asleep, it was so +still. Mrs. Millar wanted to take it from me, and to undo the blanket, +but my grandfather said 'Bide your time, Mary; bring the child into the +house, my lass; it's bitter cold out here.' +</p> +<p> +So we all went up through the field, and through our garden and the +court. The blanket was tightly fastened round the child, except at the +top, where room had been left for it to breathe, and I could just see a +little nose and two closed eyes, as I peeped in at the opening. +</p> +<p> +The bundle was a good weight, and before I reached the house I was glad +of Mrs. Millar's help to carry it. We came into our little kitchen, and +Mrs. Millar took the child on her knee and unfastened the blanket. +</p> +<p> +'Bless her,' she said, as her tears fell fast, 'it's a little girl!' +</p> +<p> +'Ay,' said my grandfather, 'so it is; it's a bonnie wee lassie!' +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH4"><!-- CH4 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER IV. +</h2> + +<center> +LITTLE TIMPEY. +</center> +<p> +I do not think I have ever seen a prettier face than that child's. She +had light brown hair, and round rosy cheeks, and the bluest of blue +eyes. +</p> +<p> +She awoke as we were looking at her, and seeing herself amongst +strangers, she cried bitterly. +</p> +<p> +'Poor little thing!' said Mrs. Millar. 'She wants her mother.' +</p> +<p> +'Mam—ma! Ma—ma!' cried the little girl, as she caught the word. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Millar fairly broke down at this, and sobbed and cried as much as +the child. +</p> +<p> +'Come, my lass,' said her husband, 'cheer up! Thee'll make her worse, if +thee takes on so.' +</p> +<p> +But Mrs. Millar could do nothing but cry. 'Just think if it was our +Polly!' was all that she could say. 'Oh, Jem, just think if it was our +Polly that was calling for me!' +</p> +<p> +My grandfather took the child from her, and put her on my knee. 'Now, +Mary,' he said, 'get us a bit of fire and something to eat, there's a +good woman! The child's cold and hungered, and we're much about the same +ourselves.' +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Millar bustled about the house, and soon lighted a blazing fire; +then she ran in next door to see if her children, whom she had left with +a little servant girl, were all right, and she brought back with her +some cold meat for our breakfast. +</p> +<p> +I sat down on a stool before the fire, with the child on my knee. She +seemed to be about two years old, a strong, healthy little thing. She +had stopped crying now, and did not seem to be afraid of me; but +whenever any of the others came near she hid her face in my shoulder. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Millar brought her a basin of bread and milk, and she let me feed +her. +</p> +<p> +She seemed very weary and sleepy, as if she could hardly keep her eyes +open. 'Poor wee lassie!' said my grandfather; 'I expect they pulled her +out of her bed to bring her on deck. Won't you put her to bed?' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said Mrs. Millar, 'I'll put her in our Polly's bed; she'll sleep +there quite nice, she will.' +</p> +<p> +But the child clung to me, and cried so loudly when Mrs. Millar tried +to take her, that my grandfather said,— +</p> +<p> +'I wouldn't take her away, poor motherless lamb; she takes kindly to +Alick; let her bide here.' +</p> +<p> +So we made up a little bed for her on the sofa; and Mrs. Millar brought +one of little Polly's nightgowns, and undressed and washed her, and put +her to bed. +</p> +<p> +The child was still very shy of all of them but me. She seemed to have +taken to me from the first, and when she was put into her little bed she +held out her tiny hand to me, and said, 'Handie, Timpey's handie.' +</p> +<p> +'What does she say? bless her!' said Mrs. Millar, for it was almost the +first time that the child had spoken. +</p> +<p> +'She wants me to hold her little hand,' I said, 'Timpey's little hand. +Timpey must be her name!' +</p> +<p> +'I never heard of such a name,' said Mrs. Millar. 'Timpey, did you say? +What do they call you, darling?' she said to the child. +</p> +<p> +But the little blue eyes were closing wearily, and very soon the child +was asleep. I still held that tiny hand in mine as I sat beside her; I +was afraid of waking her by putting it down. +</p> +<p> +'I wonder who she is,' said Mrs. Millar, in a whisper, as she folded up +her little clothes. 'She <i>has</i> beautiful things on, to be sure! She has +been well taken care of, anyhow! Stop, here's something written on the +little petticoat; can you make it out, Alick?' +</p> +<p> +I laid down the little hand very carefully, and took the tiny petticoat +to the window. +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' I said, 'this will be her name. Here's <i>Villiers</i> written on it. +</p> +<p> +'Dear me!' said Mrs. Millar. 'Yes, that will be her name. Dear me, dear +me; to think of her poor father and mother at the bottom of that +dreadful sea! Just think if it was our Polly!' And then Mrs. Millar +cried so much again that she was obliged to go home and finish her cry +with her little Polly clasped tightly in her arms. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather was very worn out with all he had done during the night, +and went upstairs to bed. I sat watching the little sleeping child. I +felt as if I could not leave her. +</p> +<p> +She slept very quietly and peacefully. Poor little pet! how little she +knows what has happened, I thought; and my tears came fast, and fell on +the little fat hand which was lying on the pillow. But after a few +minutes I leaned my head against the sofa, and fell fast asleep. I had +had no sleep the night before, and was quite worn out. +</p> +<p> +I was awakened, some hours after, by some one pulling my hair, and a +little voice calling in my ear, 'Up! up, boy! up! up!' +</p> +<p> +I looked up, and saw a little roguish face looking at me—the merriest, +brightest little face you can imagine. +</p> +<p> +'Up, up, boy, please!' she said again, in a coaxing voice. +</p> +<p> +So I lifted up my head, and she climbed out of her little bed on the +sofa on to my knee. +</p> +<p> +'Put shoes on, boy,' she said, holding out her little bare toes. +</p> +<p> +I put on her shoes and stockings, and then Mrs. Millar came in and +dressed her. +</p> +<p> +It was a lovely afternoon; the storm had ceased whilst we had been +asleep, and the sun was shining brightly. I got the dinner ready, and +the child watched me, and ran backwards and forwards, up and down the +kitchen. She seemed quite at home now and very happy. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather was still asleep, so I did not wake him. Mrs. Millar +brought in some broth she had made for the child, and we dined together. +I wanted to feed her, as I had done the night before, but she said,— +</p> +<p> +'Timpey have 'poon, please!' and took the spoon from me, and fed herself +so prettily, I could not help watching her. +</p> +<p> +'God bless her, poor little thing!' said Mrs. Millar. +</p> +<p> +'God bless 'ou,' said the child. The words were evidently familiar to +her. +</p> +<p> +'She must have heard her mother say so,' said Mrs. Millar, in a choking +voice. +</p> +<p> +When we had finished dinner, the child slipped down from her stool, and +ran to the sofa. Here she found my grandfather's hat, which she put on +her head, and my scarf, which she hung round her neck. Then she marched +to the door, and said, 'Tatta, tatta; Timpey go tatta.' +</p> +<p> +'Take her out a bit, Alick,' said Mrs. Millar. 'Stop a minute, though; +I'll fetch her Polly's hood.' So, to her great delight, we dressed her +in Polly's hood, and put a warm shawl round her, and I took her out. +</p> +<p> +Oh! how she ran, and jumped, and played in the garden. I never saw such +a merry little thing. Now she was picking up stones, now she was +gathering daisies ('day days, she called them), now she was running down +the path and calling to me to catch her. She was never still a single +instant! +</p> + +<center> +<img src="./images/i_p047.png" width="510" height="809" +alt="After the Storm."> +</center> + +<p> +But every now and then, as I was playing with her, I looked across the +sea to Ainslie Crag. The sea had not gone down much, though the wind had +ceased, and I saw the waves still dashing wildly upon the rocks. +</p> +<p> +And I thought of what lay beneath them, of the shattered ship, and of +the child's mother. Oh! if she only knew, I thought, as I listened to +her merry laugh, which made me more ready to cry than her tears had +done. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH5"><!-- CH5 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER V. +</h2> + +<center> +THE UNCLAIMED SUNBEAM. +</center> +<p> +My grandfather and Jem Millar were sitting over the fire in the little +watchroom in the lighthouse tower, and I sat beside them with the child +on my knee. I had found an old picture-book for her, and she was turning +over the leaves, and making her funny little remarks on the pictures. +</p> +<p> +'Well, Sandy,' said Millar, 'what shall we do with her?' +</p> +<p> +'<i>Do</i> with her?' said my grandfather stroking her little fair head. +'We'll keep her! Won't we, little lassie?' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said the child, looking up and nodding her head, as if she +understood all about it. +</p> +<p> +'We ought to look up some of her relations, it seems to me,' said Jem. +'She's sure to have some, somewhere.' +</p> +<p> +'And how are we to find them out?' asked my grandfather. +</p> +<p> +'Oh, the captain can soon make out for us what ship is missing, and we +can send a line to the owners; they'll know who the passengers was.' +</p> +<p> +'Well,' said my grandfather, 'maybe you're right, Jem; we'll see what +they say. But, for my part, if them that cares for the child is at the +bottom of that sea, I hope no one else will come and take her away from +us.' +</p> +<p> +'If I hadn't so many of them at home—'began Millar. +</p> +<p> +'Oh yes, my lad, I know that,' said my grandfather, interrupting him; +'but thy house is full enough already. Let the wee lassie come to Alick +and me. She'll be a nice little bit of company for us; and Mary will see +to her clothes and such like, I know.' +</p> +<p> +'Yes, that she will,' said her husband. 'I do declare she has been +crying about that child the best part of the day! She has indeed!' +</p> +<p> +My grandfather followed Jem's advice, and told Captain Sayers, when he +came in the steamer the next Monday, the whole story of the shipwreck, +and asked him to find out for him the name and address of the owners of +the vessel. +</p> +<p> +Oh, how I hoped that no one would come to claim my little darling. She +became dearer to me every day, and I felt as if it would break my heart +to part with her. Every night, when Mrs. Millar had undressed her, she +knelt beside me in her little white nightgown to 'talk to God,' as she +called praying. She had evidently learnt a little prayer from her +mother, for the first night she began of her own accord +</p> +<pre> + 'Jesus, Eppy, hear me.' +</pre> +<p> +I could not think at first what it was that she was saying; but Mrs. +Millar said she had learnt the hymn when she was a little girl, and she +wrote out the first verse for me. And every night afterwards I let the +child repeat it after me,— +</p> +<pre> + 'Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me, + Bless Thy little lamb to-night, + Through the darkness be Thou near me, + Keep me safe till morning light.' +</pre> +<p> +I thought I should like her always to say the prayer her mother had +taught her. I never prayed myself—my grandfather had never taught me. I +wondered if my mother would have taught me if she had lived. I thought +she would. +</p> +<p> +I knew very little in those days of the Bible. My grandfather did not +care for it, and never read it. He had a large Bible, but it was always +laid on the top of the chest of drawers, as a kind of ornament; and +unless I took it down to look at the curious old pictures inside, it was +never opened. +</p> +<p> +Sunday on the island was just the same as any other day. My grandfather +worked in the garden, or read the newspaper, just the same as usual, and +I rambled about the rocks, or did my lessons, or worked in the house, as +I did every other day in the week. We had no church or chapel to go to, +and nothing happened to mark the day. +</p> +<p> +I often think now of that dreadful morning when we went across the +stormy sea to that sinking ship. If our boat had capsized then, if we +had been lost, what would have become of our souls? It is a very solemn +thought, and I cannot be too thankful to God for sparing us both a +little longer. My grandfather was a kind-hearted, good-tempered, honest +old man; but I know now that that is not enough to open the door of +heaven. Jesus is the only way there, and my grandfather knew little of, +and cared nothing for, <i>Him</i>. +</p> +<p> +Little Timpey became my constant companion, indoors and out of doors. +She was rather shy of the little Millars, for they were noisy and rough +in their play, but she clung to me, and never wanted to leave me. Day +by day she learnt new words, and came out with such odd little remarks +of her own, that she made us all laugh. Her great pleasure was to get +hold of a book, and pick out the different letters of the alphabet, +which, although she could hardly talk, she knew quite perfectly. +</p> +<p> +Dear little pet! I can see her now, sitting at my feet on a large flat +rock by the seashore, and calling me every minute to look at A, or B, or +D, or S. And so by her pretty ways she crept into all our hearts, and we +quite dreaded the answer coming to the letter my grandfather had written +to the owners of the <i>Victory</i>, which, we found, was the name of the +lost ship. +</p> +<p> +It was a very wet day, the Monday that the answer came. I had been +waiting some time on the pier, and was wet through before the steamer +arrived. Captain Sayers handed me the letter before anything else, and +I ran up with it to my grandfather at once. I could not wait until our +provisions and supplies were brought on shore. +</p> +<p> +Little Timpey was sitting on a stool at my grandfather's feet, winding a +long piece of tape round and round her little finger. She ran to meet me +as I came in, and held up her face to be kissed. +</p> +<p> +What if this letter should say she was to leave us, and go back by the +steamer! I drew a long breath as my grandfather opened it. +</p> +<p> +It was a very civil letter from the owners of the ship, thanking us for +all we had done to save the unhappy crew and passengers, but saying they +knew nothing of the child or her belongings, as no one of the name of +Villiers had taken a cabin, and there was no sailor on board of that +name. But they said they would make further inquiries in Calcutta, from +which port the vessel had sailed. Meanwhile they begged my grandfather +to take charge of the child, and assured him he should be handsomely +rewarded for his trouble. +</p> +<p> +'That's right!' I said, when he had finished reading it. 'Then she +hasn't to go yet!' +</p> +<p> +'No,' said my grandfather; 'poor wee lassie! we can't spare her yet. I +don't want any of their rewards, Alick, not I! That's reward enough for +me,' he said, as he lifted up the child to kiss his wrinkled forehead. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH6"><!-- CH6 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VI. +</h2> + +<center> +THE OLD GENTLEMAN'S QUESTION. +</center> +<p> +The next Monday morning Timpey and I went down together to the pier, to +await the arrival of the steamer. She had brought a doll with her, which +Mrs. Millar had given her, and of which she was very proud. +</p> +<p> +Captain Sayers sent for me, as soon as the steamer came up to the pier, +to tell me that two gentlemen had come to see my grandfather. I held +the child's hand very tightly in mine, for I had felt sure they had come +for her. +</p> +<p> +The gentlemen came up the steps a minute or two afterwards. One of them +was a middle-aged man, with a very clever face, I thought. He told me he +had come to see Mr. Alexander Fergusson, and asked me if I could direct +him which way to go to the house. +</p> +<p> +'Yes, sir,' I said; 'Mr. Fergusson is my grandfather.' So we went up +towards the lighthouse, Timpey and I walking first to lead the way, and +the gentlemen following. The other gentleman was quite old, and had +white hair and gold spectacles, and a pleasant, kindly face. +</p> +<p> +Timpey could not walk very fast, and she kept running first to one side +and then to another, to gather flowers or pick up stones, to I took her +in my arms and carried her. +</p> +<p> +'Is that your little sister?' asked the old gentleman. +</p> +<p> +'No, sir,' I said; 'this is the little girl who was on board the +<i>Victory</i>! +</p> +<p> +'Dear me! dear me!' said both gentlemen at once. 'Let me look at her,' +said the old man, arranging his spectacles. +</p> +<p> +But Timpey was frightened, and clung to me, and began to cry. 'Never +mind, never mind,' said the old gentleman kindly; 'we'll make friends +with one another by-and-by.' +</p> +<p> +By this time we had reached the house, and the middle-aged gentleman +introduced himself as Mr. Septimus Forster, one of the owners of the +lost vessel, and said that he and his father-in-law, Mr. Davis, had come +to hear all particulars that my grandfather could give them with regard +to the shipwreck. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather begged them to sit down, and told me to prepare +breakfast for them at once. They were very pleasant gentlemen, both of +them, and were very kind to my grandfather. Mr. Forster wanted to make +him a handsome present for what he had done; but my grandfather would +not take it. They talked much of little Timpey, and I kept stopping to +listen as I was setting out the cups and saucers. They had heard nothing +more of her relations; and they said it was a very strange thing that no +such name as Villiers was to be found on the list of passengers on +board. They offered to take her away with them till some relation was +found; but my grandfather begged to keep her. The gentlemen, seeing how +happy and well cared for the child was, gladly consented. +</p> +<p> +After breakfast Mr. Forster said he should like to see the lighthouse, +so my grandfather went up to the top of the tower with him, and showed +him with great pride all that was to be seen there. Old Mr. Davis was +tired, and stayed behind with little Timpey and me. +</p> +<p> +'This is a strong house, my lad,' he said, when the others had gone. +</p> +<p> +'Yes, sir,' I said, 'it ought to be strong; the wind is fearful here +sometimes.' +</p> +<p> +'What sort of a foundation has it?' said the old man, tapping the floor +with his stick. +</p> +<p> +'Oh, it's all rock, sir,' I answered, 'solid rock; our house and the +lighthouse tower are all built into the rock; they would never stand if +they weren't' +</p> +<p> +'And are <i>you</i> on the Rock, my lad?' said Mr. Davis, looking at me +through his spectacles. +</p> +<p> +'I beg your pardon, sir,' I said, for I thought I had not heard him +rightly. +</p> +<p> +'Are <i>you</i> on the Rock?' he repeated. +</p> +<p> +'On the rock, sir? oh, yes,' I said, thinking he could not have +understood what I said before. 'All these buildings are built into the +rock, or the wind and sea would carry them away.' +</p> +<p> +'But <i>you</i>,' said the old gentleman again, 'are <i>you</i> on the Rock?' +</p> +<p> +'I don't quite understand you, sir,' I said. +</p> +<p> +'Never mind,' he said; 'I'll ask your grandfather when he comes down.' +So I sat still, wondering what he could mean, and almost thinking he +must have gone out of his mind. +</p> +<p> +As soon as my grandfather returned, he put the same question to him; and +my grandfather answered it as I had done, by assuring him how firmly and +strongly the lighthouse and its surroundings were built into the solid +rock. +</p> +<p> +'And you yourself,' said Mr. Davis 'how long have you been on the Rock?' +</p> +<p> +'I, sir?' said my grandfather. 'I suppose you mean how long have I lived +here; forty years, sir—forty years come the twelfth of next month I've +lived on this rock.' +</p> +<p> +'And how much longer do you expect to live here?' said the old +gentleman. +</p> +<p> +'Oh, I don't know, sir,' said my grandfather. 'As long as I live, I +suppose. Alick, here, will take my place by-and-by; he's a fine, strong +boy is Alick, sir.' +</p> +<p> +'And where will you live when you leave the island?' asked Mr. Davis. +</p> +<p> +'Oh, I never mean to leave it,' said my grandfather; 'not till I die, +sir.' +</p> +<p> +'And <i>then</i>; where will you live <i>then</i>?' +</p> +<p> +'Oh, I don't know, sir,' said my grandfather. 'In heaven, I suppose. +But, dear me, I'm not going there just yet,' he said, as if he did not +like the turn the conversation was taking. +</p> +<p> +'Would you mind answering me one more question?' said old Mr. Davis. +'Would you kindly tell me <i>why</i> you think you'll go to heaven? You won't +mind my asking you, will you?' +</p> +<p> +'Oh dear, no,' said my grandfather, 'not at all, sir. Well, sir, you see +I've never done anybody any harm, and God is very merciful, and so I've +no doubt it will be all right at last. +</p> +<p> +'Why, my dear friend,' said the old gentleman, 'I thought you said you +were on the Rock. You're not on the Rock at all, you're on the sand!' He +was going to add more, when one of Captain Sayer's men ran up to say +the steamer was ready to start, and would they kindly come at once, as +it was late already. So the two gentlemen jumped up, and prepared +hastily to go down to the beach. +</p> +<p> +But as old Mr. Davis took leave of my grandfather, he said earnestly,— +</p> +<p> +'My friend, you are building on the sand; you are indeed, and it won't +stand the storm; no, it won't stand the storm!' He had no time to say +more, the sailor hastened him away. +</p> +<p> +I followed them down to the pier, and stood there watching the steamer +preparing to start. +</p> +<p> +There was a little delay after the gentlemen went on board, and I saw +Mr. Davis sit down on a seat on deck, take out his pocket-book, and +write something on one of the leaves. Then he tore the leaf out, and +gave it to one of the sailors to hand to me as I stood on the pier, and +in another moment the steamer had started. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH7"><!-- CH7 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VII. +</h2> + +<center> +A THICK FOG. +</center> +<p> +That little piece of paper which was given me that day, I have it still, +put by amongst my greatest treasures. There was not much written on it, +only two lines of a hymn: +</p> +<pre> + 'On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand.' +</pre> +<p> +I walked slowly up to the house thinking. My grandfather was out with +Jem Millar, so I did not show him the paper then, but I read the lines +many times over as I was playing with little Timpey, and I wondered very +much what they meant. +</p> +<p> +In the evening, my grandfather and Jem Millar generally sat together +over the fire in the little watchroom upstairs, and I used to take +little Timpey up there, until it was time for her to go to bed. She +liked climbing up the stone steps in the lighthouse tower. She used to +call out, 'Up! up! up!' as she went along, until she reached the top +step, and then she would run into the watchroom with a merry laugh. +</p> +<p> +As we went in this evening, my grandfather and Jem were talking together +of the visit of the two gentlemen 'I can't think what the old man meant +about the rock,' my grandfather was saying. 'I couldn't make head or +tail of it, Jem; could you, my lad?' +</p> +<p> +'Look there, grandfather,' I said, as I handed him the little piece of +paper, and told him how I had got it. +</p> +<p> +'Well, to be sure!' said my grandfather 'So he gave you this, did he?' +and he read aloud: +</p> +<pre> + 'On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand.' +</pre> +<p> +'Well now, Jem, what does he mean? He kept on saying to me, "You're on +the sand, my friend; you're on the sand, and it won't stand the storm!" +What do you make of it, Jem? did you hear him, my lad?' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said Jem thoughtfully; 'and it has set me thinking, Sandy; I know +what he meant well enough.' +</p> +<p> +'And pray what may that be?' +</p> +<p> +'He meant we can't get to heaven except we come to Christ; we can't +get no other way. That's just what it means, Sandy!' +</p> +<p> +'Do you mean to tell me,' said my grandfather, 'that I shan't get to +heaven if I do my best?' +</p> +<p> +'No, it won't do, Sandy; there's only one way to heaven; I know that +well enough.' +</p> +<p> +'Dear me, Jem!' said my grandfather, 'I never heard you talk like that +before.' +</p> +<p> +'No,' said Jem, 'I've forgot all about it since I came to the island. I +had a good mother years ago; I ought to have done better than I have +done.' +</p> +<p> +He said no more, but he was very silent all the evening. Grandfather +read his newspaper aloud, and talked on all manner of subjects, but Jem +Millar's thoughts seemed far away. +</p> +<p> +The next day was his day for going on shore. My grandfather and Jem took +it in turns, the last Friday in every month; it was the only time they +were allowed to leave the island. When it was my grandfather's turn, I +generally went with him, and much enjoyed getting a little change. But +whichever of them went, it was a great day with us on the island, for +they bought any little things that we might be needing for our houses or +gardens, and did any business that had to be done on shore. +</p> +<p> +We all went down to the pier to see Jem Millar start; and as I was +helping him to get on board some empty sacks and some other things he +had to take with him, he said to me, in an undertone,— +</p> +<p> +'Alick, my lad, keep that bit of paper; it's all true what that old +gentleman said. I've been thinking of it ever since; and, Alick,' he +whispered, 'I believe I <i>am</i> on the Rock now.' +</p> +<p> +He said no more, but arranged his oars, and in a minute more he was +off. But as he rowed away, I heard, him singing softly to himself: +</p> +<pre> + 'On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand.' +</pre> +<p> +We watched the boat out of sight, and then went home, wishing that it +was evening and that Jem was back again with all the things that we had +asked him to get for us. +</p> +<p> +That was a very gloomy afternoon. A thick fog came over the sea and +gradually closed us in, so that we could hardly see a step before us on +the beach. +</p> +<p> +Little Timpey began to cough, so I took her indoors, and amused her +there with a picture-book. It grew so dark that my grandfather lighted +the lighthouse lamps soon after dinner. There was a dull, yellow light +over everything. +</p> +<p> +I never remember a more gloomy afternoon; and as evening came on, the +fog grew denser, till at length we could see nothing outside the +windows. +</p> +<p> +It was no use looking out for Jem's return, for we could not see the +sea, much less any boat upon it. So we stayed indoors, and my +grandfather sat by the fire smoking his pipe. +</p> +<p> +'I thought Jem would have been here before now,' he said at length, as I +was putting out the cups and saucers for tea. +</p> +<p> +'Oh, he'll come before we've finished tea, I think, grandfather,' I +answered. 'I wonder what sort of a spade he'll have got for us.' +</p> +<p> +When tea was over, the door opened suddenly, and we looked up, expecting +to see Jem enter with our purchases. But it was not Jem; it was his +wife. +</p> +<p> +'Sandy,' she said, 'what time do you make it? My clock's stopped!' +</p> +<p> +'Twenty minutes past six,' said my grandfather, looking at his watch. +</p> +<p> +'Past six!' she repeated. 'Why, Jem's very late!' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said my grandfather; 'I'll go down to the pier, and have a look +out.' +</p> +<p> +But he came back soon, saying it was impossible to see anything; the fog +was so thick, he was almost afraid of walking over the pier. 'But he's +bound to be in at seven, he said (for that was the hour the +lighthousemen were required to be on the island again), 'so he'll soon +be up now.' +</p> +<p> +The clock moved on, and still Jem Millar did not come. I saw Mrs. Millar +running to her door every now and then with her baby in her arms, to +look down the garden path. But no one came. +</p> +<p> +At last the clock struck seven. +</p> +<p> +'I never knew him do such a thing before!' said my grandfather, as he +rose to go down to the pier once more. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH8"><!-- CH8 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER VIII. +</h2> + +<center> +WAITING FOR THE BOAT. +</center> +<p> +Poor Mrs. Millar went out of her house, and followed my grandfather down +to the pier. I waited indoors with little Timpey, straining my ears to +listen for the sound of their footsteps coming back again. +</p> +<p> +But the clock struck half-past seven, and still no sound was to be +heard. I could wait no longer; I wrapped the child in a shawl, and +carried her into the Millars' house, and left her under the care of Mrs. +Millar's little servant. And then I ran down, through the thick, +smothering fog, to the pier. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather was standing there with Mrs. Millar. When I came close to +them he was saying, 'Cheer up, Mary, my lass; he's all right; he's only +waiting till this mist has cleared away a bit. You go home, and I'll +tell you as soon as ever I hear his boat coming. Why, you're wet +through, woman; you'll get your death of cold!' +</p> +<p> +Her thin calico dress was soaked with the damp in the air, and she was +shivering, and looked as white as a sheet. At first she would not be +persuaded to leave the pier; but, as time went on, and it grew darker +and colder, she consented to do as my grandfather told her, and he +promised he would send me up to the lighthouse to tell her as soon as +Jem arrived. +</p> +<p> +When she was gone, my grandfather said 'Alick, there's something wrong +with Jem, depend upon it! I didn't like to tell her so, poor soul! If we +only had the boat, I would go out a bit of way and see.' +</p> +<p> +We walked up and down the pier, and stopped every now and then to listen +if we could hear the sound of oars in the distance, for we should not be +able to see the boat till it was close upon us, so dense had the fog +become. +</p> +<p> +'Dear me,' my grandfather kept saying anxiously, 'I wish he would come!' +</p> +<p> +My thoughts went back to the bright sunny morning when Jem Millar had +started, and we had heard him singing, as he went, those two lines of +the hymn,— +</p> +<pre> + 'On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand.' +</pre> +<p> +The time passed on. Would he never come? We grew more and more anxious. +Mrs. Millar's servant-girl came running down to say her mistress wanted +to know if we could hear anything yet. +</p> +<p> +'No,' my grandfather said, 'nothing yet, my lass; but it can't be long +now.' +</p> +<p> +'Missis is so poorly,' said the girl; 'I think she's got a cold: she +shakes all over, and she keeps fretting so.' +</p> +<p> +'Poor soul! well, perhaps it's better so.' +</p> +<p> +'Whatever do you mean, grandfather?' I asked. +</p> +<p> +'Why, if aught's amiss, she won't be so taken aback as if she wasn't +afraid; and if Jem's all right, why, she'll only be the better pleased.' +</p> +<p> +The girl went back, and we still waited on the pier. 'Grandfather,' I +said at length, 'I think I hear a boat.' +</p> +<p> +It was a very still night; we stood and listened. At first my +grandfather said he heard nothing; but at length he distinguished, as I +did, the regular plash—plash—plash—of oars in the distance. +</p> +<p> +'Yes, it <i>is</i> a boat,' said my grandfather. +</p> +<p> +I was hastening to leave the pier, and run up to the house to tell Mrs. +Millar, but my grandfather laid his hand on my shoulder. +</p> +<p> +'Wait a bit, Alick, my lad,' he said; 'let us hear what it is first; +maybe it isn't Jem, after all!' +</p> +<p> +'But it's coming here, grandfather; I can hear it better now.' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' he said, 'it's coming here;' but he still kept his hand on my +shoulder. +</p> +<p> +The boat had been a long way off when we first heard it, for it was many +minutes before the sound of the oars seemed to become much more +distinct. But it came nearer, and nearer, and nearer. Yes, the boat was +evidently making for the island. +</p> +<p> +At last it came so near that my grandfather called out from the end of +the pier,— +</p> +<p> +'Hollo, Jem! You're late, my lad!' +</p> +<p> +'Hollo!' said a voice from the boat; but it wasn't Jem's voice. +</p> +<p> +'Whereabouts is your landing-place?' said the voice; 'it's so thick, I +can't see.' +</p> +<p> +'Why, Jem isn't there, grandfather!' I said, catching hold of his arm. +</p> +<p> +'No,' said my grandfather; 'I knew there was something wrong with the +lad.' +</p> +<p> +He called out to the man in the boat the direction in which he was to +row, and then he and I went down the steps together, and waited for the +boat to come up. +</p> +<p> +There were four men in the boat. They were sailors, and strangers to me. +One of them, the one whose voice we had heard, got out to speak to my +grandfather. +</p> +<p> +'Something's wrong,' said my grandfather, before he could begin; +'something's wrong with that poor lad.' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said the man, 'we've got him here; and he pointed to the boat. +</p> +<p> +A cold shudder passed over me as he said this, and I caught sight of +something lying at the men's feet at the bottom of the boat. +</p> +<p> +'What's wrong with him? Has he had an accident? Is he much hurt?' +</p> +<p> +'He's dead,' said the man solemnly. +</p> +<p> +'Oh dear!' said my grandfather, in a choking voice. 'However shall we +tell his wife? However shall we tell poor Mary?' +</p> + +<center> +<img src="./images/i_p085.png" width="476" height="776" +alt="'How Did It Happen?' I Asked."> +</center> + +<p> +'How did it happen?' I asked at length, as soon as I could speak. +</p> +<p> +'He was getting a sack of flour on board, over yonder' said one of the +men in the boat, 'and it was awful thick and foggy, and he missed his +footing on the plank, and fell in; that's how it happened!' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said another man, 'and it seems he couldn't swim, and there was +no boat nigh at hand to help him. Joe Malcolmson was there and saw him +fall in; but before he could call any of us, it was all over with him. +We got him out at last, but he was quite gone; we fetched a doctor, and +took him into a house near, and rubbed him, and did all we could; but it +wasn't of no good at all! Shall we bring him in?' +</p> +<p> +'Wait a bit,' said my grandfather; 'we must tell that poor girl first. +Which of you will go and tell her?' +</p> +<p> +The men looked at each other and did not speak. At last one of them, who +knew my grandfather a little, said, 'You'd better tell her, Sandy; she +knows you, and she'll bear it better than from strangers; we'll wait +here till you come back, and then we can bring him in.' +</p> +<p> +'Well,' said my grandfather, with a groan, 'I'll go then! Come with me, +Alick, my lad,' said he, turning to me; 'but no, perhaps I'd better go +by myself.' +</p> +<p> +So he went very slowly up towards the lighthouse, and I remained behind +with the four men on the shore, and that silent form lying at the bottom +of the boat. +</p> +<p> +I was much frightened, and felt as if it was all a very terrible dream, +and as if I should soon wake up to find it had all passed away. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH9"><!-- CH9 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER IX. +</h2> + +<center> +A CHANGE IN THE LIGHTHOUSE. +</center> +<p> +It seemed a long time before my grandfather came back, and then he only +said in a low voice, 'You can bring him now, my lads; she knows about it +now.' +</p> +<p> +And so the mournful little procession moved on, through the field and +garden and court, to the Millars' house, my grandfather and I following. +</p> +<p> +I shall never forget that night, nor the strange, solemn feeling I had +then. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Millar was very ill; the shock had been too much for her. The men +went back in the boat to bring a doctor to the island to see her, and +the doctor sent them back again to bring a nurse. He said he was afraid +she would have an attack of brain-fever, and he thought her very ill +indeed. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather and I sat in the Millars' house all night, for the nurse +did not arrive until early in the morning. The six children were fast +asleep in their little beds. I went to look at them once, to see if my +little Timpey was all right; she was lying in little Polly's bed, their +tiny hands fast clasped together as they slept. The tears came fast into +my eyes, as I thought that they both had lost a father, and yet neither +of them knew anything of their loss! +</p> +<p> +When the nurse arrived, my grandfather and I went home But we could not +sleep; we lighted the kitchen fire, and sat over it in silence for a +long time. +</p> +<p> +Then my grandfather said: 'Alick, my lad, it has given me such a turn as +I haven't had for many a day. It might have been <i>me</i>, Alick; it might +just as well have been <i>me</i>!' +</p> +<p> +I put my hand in his, and grasped it very tightly, as he said this. +'Yes,' he said again, 'it might have been me; and if it had, I wonder +where I should have been now?' +</p> +<p> +I didn't speak, and he went on,—'I wonder where Jem is now, poor +fellow; I've been thinking of that all night, ever since I saw him lying +there at the bottom of that boat.' +</p> +<p> +So I told him of what Jem Millar had said to me the last time I had seen +him. +</p> +<p> +'On the Rock!' said my grandfather. Did he say he was on the Rock? Dear +me! I wish I could say as much, Alick, my lad.' +</p> +<p> +'Can't you and I come as he came, grandfather?' I said. 'Can't we come +and build on the Rock, too?' +</p> +<p> +'Well,' said my grandfather, 'I wish we could, my lad. I begin to see +what he meant, and what the old gentleman meant too. He said, "You're on +the sand, my friend; you're on the sand, and it won't stand the storm; +no, it won't stand the storm!" I've just had those words in my ears all +the time we were sitting over there by Mrs. Millar. But, dear me, I +don't know how to get on the Rock; I don't indeed.' +</p> +<p> +The whole of the next week poor Mrs. Millar lay between life and death. +At first the doctor gave no hope whatever of her recovery; but after a +time she grew a little better, and he began to speak more +encouragingly. I spent my time with the poor children, and hardly left +them a moment, doing all I could to keep them quietly happy, that they +might not disturb their mother. +</p> +<p> +One sorrowful day only, my grandfather and I were absent for several +hours from the lighthouse; for we went ashore to follow poor Jem Millar +to the grave. His poor wife was unconscious, and knew nothing of what +was going on. +</p> +<p> +When, after some weeks, the fever left her, she was still very weak and +unfit for work. But there was much to be done, and she had no time to +sit still, for a new man had been appointed to take her husband's place; +and he was to come into the house at the beginning of the month. +</p> +<p> +We felt very dull and sad the day that the Millars went away. We went +down to the pier with them, and saw them on board the steamer—Mrs. +Millar, the six little children, and the servant-girl, all dressed in +mourning, and all of them crying. They were going to Mrs. Millar's home, +far away in the north of Scotland, where her old father and mother were +still living. +</p> +<p> +The island seemed very lonely and desolate when they were gone. If it +had not been for our little sunbeam, as my grandfather called her, I do +not know what we should have done. Every day we loved her more, and what +we dreaded most was, that a letter would arrive some Monday morning to +tell us that she must go away from us. +</p> +<p> +'Dear me, Alick,' my grandfather would often say, 'how little you and me +thought that stormy night what a little treasure we had got wrapped up +in that funny little bundle!' +</p> +<p> +The child was growing fast; the fresh sea did her great good, and every +day she became more intelligent and pretty. +</p> +<p> +We were very curious to know who was appointed in Jem Millar's place; +but we were not able to find out even what his name was. Captain Sayers +said that he did not know anything about it; and the gentlemen who came +over once or twice to see about the house being repaired and put in +order for the new-comer were very silent on the subject, and seemed to +think us very inquisitive if we asked any questions. Of course, our +comfort depended very much upon who our neighbour was, for he and my +grandfather would be constantly together, and we should have no one else +to speak to. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather was very anxious that we should give the man a welcome +to the island, and make him comfortable on his first arrival. So we set +to work, as soon as the Millars were gone, to dig up the untidy garden +belonging to the next house, and make it as neat and pretty as we could +for the new-comers. +</p> +<p> +'I wonder how many of them there will be,' I said, as we were at work in +their garden. +</p> +<p> +'Maybe only just the man,' said my grandfather. 'When I came here first, +I was a young unmarried man, Alick. But we shall soon know all about +him; he'll be here next Monday morning, they say.' +</p> +<p> +'It's a wonder he hasn't been over before,' I said, 'to see the house +and the island. I wonder what he'll think of it?' +</p> +<p> +'He'll be strange at first, poor fellow, said my grandfather; 'but we'll +give him a bit of a welcome. Have a nice bit of breakfast ready for +him, Alick, my lad, and for his wife and bairns too, if he has any—hot +coffee and cakes, and a bit of meat, and any thing else you like; +they'll be glad of it after crossing over here.' +</p> +<p> +So we made our little preparations, and waited very anxiously indeed for +Monday's Steamer. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH10"><!-- CH10 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER X. +</h2> + +<center> +OUR NEW NEIGHBOUR. +</center> +<p> +Monday morning came, and found us standing on the pier as usual awaiting +the arrival of the steamer. +</p> +<p> +We were very anxious indeed to see our new neighbours. A nice little +breakfast for four or five people was set out in our little kitchen, and +I had gathered a large bunch of dahlias from our garden, to make the +table look cheerful and bright. All was ready, and in due time the +steamer came puffing up towards the pier, and we saw a man standing +on the deck, talking to Captain Sayers, who we felt sure must be the new +lighthouse-man. +</p> + +<center> +<img src="./images/i_p100.png" width="474" height="777" +alt="'Puff, Puff,' Said Little Timpey."> +</center> + +<p> +'I don't see a wife,' said my grandfather. +</p> +<p> +'Nor any children,' said I, as I held little Timpey up, that she might +see the steamer. +</p> +<p> +'Puff, puff, puff,' she said, as it came up, and then turned round and +laughed merrily. +</p> +<p> +The steamer came up to the landing-place, and my grandfather and I went +down the steps to meet Captain Sayers and the stranger. +</p> +<p> +'Here's your new neighbour, Sandy,' said the captain. 'Will you show him +the way to his house, whilst I see to your goods?' +</p> +<p> +'Welcome to the island,' said my grandfather, grasping his hand. +</p> +<p> +He was a tall, strongly-built man, very sun-burnt and weather-beaten. +</p> +<p> +'Thank you,' said the man, looking at me all the time. 'It <i>is</i> +pleasant to have a welcome.' +</p> +<p> +'That's my grandson Alick,' said my grandfather, putting his hand on my +shoulder. +</p> +<p> +'Your grandson,' repeated the man, looking earnestly at me; 'your +grandson—indeed!' +</p> +<p> +'And now come along,' said my grand father, 'and get a bit of something +to eat; we've got a cup of coffee all ready for you at home, and you'll +be right welcome, I assure you.' +</p> +<p> +'That's very kind of you,' said the stranger. +</p> +<p> +We were walking up now towards the house, and the man did not seem much +inclined to talk. I fancied once that I saw a tear in his eye, but I +thought I must have been mistaken. What could he have to cry about? I +little knew all that was passing through his mind. +</p> +<p> +'By the bye,' said my grandfather, turning round suddenly upon him, +'what's your name? We've never heard it yet!' +</p> +<p> +The man did not answer, and my grandfather looked at him in +astonishment. 'Have you got no name?' he said, 'or have you objections +to folks knowing what your name is?' +</p> +<p> +'Father!' said the man, taking hold of my grandfather's hand, 'don't you +know your own lad?' +</p> +<p> +'Why, it's my David! Alick, look Alick, that's your father; it is +indeed!' +</p> +<p> +And then my grandfather fairly broke down, and sobbed like a child, +whilst my father grasped him tightly with one hand, and put the other on +my shoulder. +</p> +<p> +'I wouldn't let them tell you,' he said 'I made them promise not to +tell you till I could do it myself. I heard of Jem Millar's death as +soon as I arrived in England, and I wrote off and applied for the place +at once. I told them I was your son, father, and they gave me it at +once, as soon as they heard where I had been all these years.' +</p> +<p> +'And where have you been, David, never to send us a line all the time?' +</p> +<p> +'Well, it's a long story,' said my father; 'let's come in, and I'll tell +you all about it.' +</p> +<p> +So we went in together, and my father still looked at me. 'He's very +like HER, father,' he said, in a husky voice. +</p> +<p> +I knew he meant my mother! +</p> +<p> +'Then you heard about poor Alice?' said my grandfather. +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' he said; 'it was a very curious thing. A man from these parts +happened to be on board the vessel I came home in, and he told me all +about it. I felt as if I had no heart left in me, when I heard she was +gone. I had just been thinking all the time how glad she would be to see +me.' +</p> +<p> +Then my grandfather told him all he could about my poor mother. How she +had longed to hear from him; and how, as week after week and month after +month went by, and no news came, she had gradually become weaker and +weaker. All this and much more he told him; and whenever he stopped, my +father always wanted to hear more, so that it was not until we were +sitting over the watchroom fire in the evening that my father began to +tell us his story. +</p> +<p> +He had been shipwrecked on the coast of China. The ship had gone to +pieces not far from shore, and he and three other men had escaped safely +to land. As soon as they stepped on shore, a crowd of Chinese gathered +round them with anything but friendly faces. They were taken prisoners, +and carried before some man who seemed to be the governor of that part +of the country. He asked them a great many questions, but they did not +understand a word of what he said, and, of course, could not answer him. +</p> +<p> +For some days my father and the other men were very uncertain what their +fate would be; for the Chinese at that time were exceedingly jealous of +any foreigner landing on their shore. However, one day they were brought +out of the wooden house in which they had been imprisoned, and taken a +long journey of some two hundred miles into the interior of the country. +And here it was that my poor father had been all those years, when we +thought him dead. He was not unkindly treated, and he taught the +half-civilized people there many things which they did not know, and +which they were very glad to learn. But both by day and night he was +carefully watched, lest he should make his escape, and he never found a +single opportunity of getting away from them. Of course, there were no +posts and no railways in that remote place, and he was quite shut out +from the world. Of what was going on at home he knew as little as if he +had been living in the moon. +</p> +<p> +Slowly and drearily eleven long years passed away, and then, one +morning, they were suddenly told that they were to be sent down to the +coast, and put on board a ship bound for England. They told my father +that there had been a war, and that one of the conditions of peace was, +that they should give up all the foreigners in their country whom they +were holding as prisoners. +</p> +<p> +'Well, David, my lad,' said my grandfather, when he had finished his +strange story, 'it's almost like getting thee back from the dead, to +have thee in the old home again!' +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH11"><!-- CH11 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XI. +</h2> + +<center> +ON THE ROCK. +</center> +<p> +About a fortnight after my father arrived, we were surprised one Monday +morning by another visit from old Mr. Davis. His son-in-law had asked +him to come to tell my grandfather that he had received a letter with +regard to the little girl who was saved from the <i>Victory</i>. So he told +my father and me as we stood on the pier; and all the way to the house I +was wondering what the letter could be. +</p> +<p> +Timpey was running by my side, her little hand in mine, and I could not +bear to think how dull we should be when she was gone. +</p> +<p> +'Why, it's surely Mr. Davis,' said my grandfather, as he rose to meet +the old gentleman. +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said he, 'it is Mr. Davis; and I suppose you can guess what I've +come for.' +</p> +<p> +'Not to take our little sunbeam, sir,' said my grandfather, taking +Timpey in his arms. 'You never mean to say you're going to take her +away?' +</p> +<p> +'Wait a bit,' said the old gentleman, sitting down and fumbling in his +pocket; 'wait until you've heard this letter, and then see what you +think about her going.' +</p> +<pre> + And he began to read as follows: + MY DEAR SIR,—I am almost over + powered with joy by the news received by + telegram an hour ago. We had heard of + the loss of the <i>Victory</i>, and were mourning + for our little darling as being amongst the + number of those drowned. Her mother has + been quite crushed by her loss, and has + been dangerously ill ever since the sad intelligence + reached us. + + 'Need I tell you what our feelings were + when we suddenly heard that our dear child + was alive, and well and happy! + + 'We shall sail by the next steamer for + England, to claim our little darling. My + wife is hardly strong enough to travel this + week, or we should come at once. A thousand + thanks to the brave men who saved + our little girl. I shall hope soon to be + able to thank them myself. My heart is + too full to write much to-day. + + 'Our child was travelling home under the + care of a friend, as we wished her to leave + India before the hot weather set in, and I + was not able to leave for two months. This + accounts for the name Villiers not being on + the list of passengers on board the <i>Victory</i>. + + 'Thanking you most sincerely for all your + efforts to let us know of our child's safety, + 'I remain, yours very truly, + + 'EDWARD VILLIERS.' +</pre> +<p> +'Now,' said the old gentleman, looking at me, and laughing, though I saw +a tear in his eye, 'won't you let them have her?' +</p> +<p> +'Well, to be sure,' said my grandfather, 'what can one say after that? +Poor things, how pleased they are! +</p> +<p> +'Timpey,' I said, taking the little girl on my knee, 'who do you think +is coming to see you? Your mother is coming—- coming to see little +Timpey!' +</p> +<p> +The child looked earnestly at me; she evidently had not quite forgotten +the name. She opened her blue eyes wider than usual, and looked very +thoughtful for a minute or two. Then she nodded her head very wisely, +and said,— +</p> +<p> +'Dear mother coming to see Timpey?' +</p> +<p> +'Bless her!' said the old gentleman, stroking her fair little head; 'she +seems to know all about it.' +</p> +<p> +Then we sat down to breakfast; and whilst we were eating it, old Mr. +Davis turned to me, and asked if I had read the little piece of paper. +</p> +<p> +'Yes, sir,' said my grandfather, 'indeed we have read it;' and he told +him about Jem Millar, and what he had said to me that last morning. 'And +now,' said my grandfather, 'I wish, if you'd be so kind, you would tell +me <i>how to get on the Rock</i>, for I'm on the sand now; there's no doubt +at all about it, and I'm afraid, as you said the last time you were +here, that it won't stand the storm.' +</p> +<p> +'It would be a sad thing,' said old Mr. Davis, 'to be on the sand when +the great storm comes.' +</p> +<p> +'Ay, sir, it would, said my grandfather; 'I often lie in bed at nights +and think of it, when the winds and the waves are raging. I call to mind +that verse where it says about the sea and the waves roaring, and men's +hearts failing them for fear. Deary me, I should be terrible frightened, +that I should, if that day was to come, and I saw the Lord coming in +glory.' +</p> +<p> +'But you need not be afraid if you are on the Rock,' said our old +friend. 'All who have come to Christ, and are resting on Him, will feel +as safe in that day as you do when there is a storm raging and you are +inside this house.' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said my grandfather, 'I see that, sir; but somehow I don't know +what you mean by getting on the Rock; I don't quite see it, sir.' +</p> +<p> +'Well,' said Mr. Davis, 'what would you do if this house was built on +the sand down there by the shore, and you knew that the very first storm +that came would sweep it away? +</p> +<p> +'Do, sir!' said my grandfather, 'why, I should pull it down, every stone +of it, and build it up on the rock instead.' +</p> +<p> +'Exactly!' said Mr. Davis. 'You have been building your hopes of heaven +on the sand—on your good deeds, on your good intentions, on all sorts +of sand-heaps. You know you have. +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said grandfather, 'I know I have.' +</p> +<p> +'Well, my friend,' said Mr. Davis, 'pull them all down. Say to +yourself, "I'm a lost man if I remain as I am; my hopes are all resting +on the sand." And then, build your hopes on something better, something +which <i>will</i> stand the storm; build them on Christ. He is the only way +to heaven. He has died that you, a poor sinner, might go there. Build +your hopes on Him, my friend. Trust to what He has done for you as your +only hope of heaven—<i>that</i> is building on the Rock!' +</p> +<p> +'I see, sir; I understand you now.' +</p> +<p> +'Do that,' said Mr. Davis, 'and then your hope will be a sure and +steadfast hope, a good hope which can never be moved. And when the last +great storm comes, it will not touch you; you will be as certainly and +as entirely safe in that day as you are in this lighthouse when the +storm is raging outside, because you will be built upon the immovable +Rock.' +</p> +<p> +I cannot recollect all the conversation which Mr. Davis and my +grandfather had that morning, but I do remember that before he went away +he knelt down with us, and prayed that we might every one of us be found +on the Rock in that last great storm. +</p> +<p> +And I remember also that that night, when my grandfather said good-night +to me, he said, 'Alick, my lad, I don't mean to go to sleep to-night +till I can say, like poor Jem Millar, +</p> +<pre> + 'On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand.' +</pre> +<p> +And I believe that my grandfather kept his word. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<a name="CH12"><!-- CH12 --></a> +<h2> + CHAPTER XII. +</h2> + +<center> +THE SUNBEAM CLAIMED. +</center> +<p> +It was a cold, cheerless morning; the wind was blowing, and the rain was +beating against the windows. It was far too wet and stormy for little +Timpey to be out, so she and I had a game of ball together in the +kitchen, whilst my father and grandfather went down to the pier. +</p> +<p> +She looked such a pretty little thing that morning. She had on a little +blue frock, which my grandfather had bought for her, and which Mrs. +Millar had made before she left the island, and a clean white pinafore. +She was screaming with delight, as I threw the ball over her head and +she ran to catch it, when the door opened, and my father ran in. +</p> +<p> +'Alick, is she here? They've come!' +</p> +<p> +'Who've come, father?' I said. +</p> +<p> +'Little Timpey's father and mother; they are coming up the garden now +with your grandfather! +</p> +<p> +He had hardly finished speaking before my grandfather came in with a +lady and gentleman. The lady ran forward as soon as she saw her child, +put her arms round her, and held her tightly in her bosom, as if she +could never part from her again. Then she sat down with her little +darling on her knee, stroking her tiny hands and talking to her, and +looking, oh, so anxiously, to see if the child remembered her. +</p> +<p> +At first, Timpey looked a little shy, and hung down her head, and would +not look in her mother's face. But this was only for a minute. As soon +as her mother <i>spoke</i> to her she evidently remembered her voice, and +when Mrs. Villiers asked her, with tears in her eyes,— +</p> +<p> +'Do you know me, little Timpey? My dear little Timpey, who am I?' the +child looked up, and smiled, as she said, 'Dear mother—Timpey's dear +mother!' and she put up her little fat hand to stroke her mother's face. +</p> +<p> +And then, when I saw that, I could feel no longer sorry that the child +was going away. +</p> +<p> +I can well remember what a happy morning that was. Mr. and Mrs. Villiers +were so kind to us, and so very grateful for all that my grandfather and +I had done for their little girl. They thought her looking so much +better and stronger than when she left India, and they were so pleased +to find that she had not forgotten all the little lessons she had learnt +at home. Mrs. Villiers seemed as if she could not take her eyes off the +child; wherever little Timpey went, and whatever she was doing, her +mother followed her, and I shall never forget how happy and how glad +both the father and the mother looked. +</p> +<p> +But the most pleasant day will come to an end; and in the evening a boat +was to come from shore to take Mr. and Mrs. Villiers and their child +away. +</p> +<p> +'Dear me!' said my grandfather, with a groan, as he took the little girl +on his knee, 'I never felt so sorry to lose anybody, <i>never</i>; I'm sure I +didn't. Why, I calls her my little sunbeam, sir! You'll excuse me +saying so, but I don't feel over and above kindly to you for taking her +away from me; I don't indeed, sir.' +</p> +<p> +'Then I don't know what you will say to me when you hear I want to rob +you further,' said Mr. Villiers. +</p> +<p> +'Rob me further?' repeated my grandfather. +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said Mr. Villiers, putting his hand on my shoulder. 'I want to +take this grandson of yours away too. It seems to me a great pity that +such a fine lad should waste his days shut up on this little island. Let +him come with me, and I will send him to a really good school for three +or four years, and then I will get him some good clerkship, or something +of that kind, and put him in the way of making his way in the world. Now +then, my friend, will you and his father spare him?' +</p> +<p> +'Well,' said my grandfather, 'I don't know what to say to you, sir; +it's very good of you—very good, indeed it is, and it would be a fine +thing for Alick, it would indeed; but I always thought he would take my +place here when I was dead.' +</p> +<p> +'Yes,' said my father; 'but, you see, <i>I</i> shall be here to do that, +father; and if Mr. Villiers is so very kind as to take Alick, I'm sure +we ought only to be too glad for him to have such a friend.' +</p> +<p> +'You're right, David; yes, your right. We mustn't be selfish, sir; and +you'd let him come and see us sometimes, wouldn't you?' +</p> +<p> +'Oh, to be sure,' said Mr. Villiers; 'he can come and spend his holidays +here, and give you fine histories of his school life. Now, Alick, what +say you? There's a capital school in the town where we are going to +live, so you would be near us and you could come to see us on holiday +afternoons, and see whether this little woman remembers all you have +taught her. What say you?' +</p> +<p> +I was very pleased indeed, and very thankful for his kindness, and my +father and grandfather said they would never be able to repay him. +</p> +<p> +'Repay <i>me</i>!' said Mr. Villiers. 'Why, my friends, it's <i>I</i> who can +never repay <i>you.</i> Just think, for one moment, of what you have given +me'—and he put his arm round his little girl's neck.' So we may +consider that matter settled. And now, when can Alick come?' +</p> +<p> +My grandfather begged for another month, and Mr. Villiers said that +would do very well, as in that time the school would reopen after the +holidays. And so it came to pass, that when I said good-bye to little +Timpey that afternoon, it was with the hope of soon seeing her again. +</p> +<p> +Her father called her Lucy, which I found was her real name. Timpey was +a pet name, which had been given her as a baby. But though Lucy was +certainly a prettier name, still I felt I should always think of her as +Timpey—<i>my</i> little Timpey. +</p> +<p> +I shall never forget my feelings that month. A strange new life was +opening out before me, and I felt quite bewildered by the prospect. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather, and father, and I sat over the watchroom fire, night +after night, talking over my future; and day after day I wandered over +our dear little island, wondering how I should feel when I said good-bye +to it, and went into the great world beyond. +</p> +<p> +Since old Mr. Davis's visit, there had been a great change in our +little home. The great Bible had been taken down from its place and +carefully read and studied, and Sunday was no longer spent by us like +any other day, but was kept as well as it could be on that lonely +island. +</p> +<p> +My grandfather, I felt sure, was a new man. Old things had passed away; +all things had become new. He was dearer to me than ever, and I felt +very sorrowful when I thought of parting from him. +</p> +<p> +'I could never have left you, grandfather,' I said one day, 'if my +father had not been here.' +</p> +<p> +'No,' he said, 'I don't think I could have spared you, Alick; but your +father just came back in right time,—didn't you, David?' +</p> +<p> +At last the day arrived on which Mr. Villiers had appointed to meet me +at the town to which the steamer went every Monday morning, when it +left the island. My father and grandfather walked with me down to the +pier, and saw me on board. And the very last thing my grandfather said +to me was, 'Alick, my lad, keep on the Rock—be sure you keep on the +Rock!' +</p> +<p> +And I trust that I have never forgotten my grandfather's last words to +me. +</p> +<pre> + 'It was founded upon a rock.' + + MATT. VII. 25 +</pre> +<pre> + My hope is built on nothing less + Than Jesu's blood and righteousness; + I dare not trust the sweetest frame, + But wholly lean on Jesu's name. + On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand. + + When long appears my toilsome race, + I rest on His unchanging grace; + In every high and stormy gale, + My anchor holds within the veil. + On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand. + + His oath, His covenant, and blood, + Support me in the whelming flood; + When every earthly prop gives way, + He then is all my hope and stay. + On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand. + + When the last trumpet's voice shall sound, + Oh, may I then in Him be found; + Robed in His righteousness alone, + Faultless to stand before the throne. + On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, + All other ground is sinking sand. + + MOTE. + +</pre> + +<hr> + +<p> +Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10849 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |