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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20524-h.zip b/20524-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3074767 --- /dev/null +++ b/20524-h.zip diff --git a/20524-h/20524-h.htm b/20524-h/20524-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f7e9b35 --- /dev/null +++ b/20524-h/20524-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7200 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Culm Rock, by Glance Gaylord. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + + + body{margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 8%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-top: + -1.5em; margin-right: 0em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Culm Rock, by Glance Gaylord + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Culm Rock + The Story of a Year: What it Brought and What it Taught + +Author: Glance Gaylord + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20524] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CULM ROCK *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, David T. Jones, Bill Tozier +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1>CULM ROCK,</h1> +<p><br /></p> +<h3>The Story of a Year:</h3> + +<h3>WHAT IT BROUGHT AND WHAT IT TAUGHT.</h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>GLANCE GAYLORD.</h3> +<p><br /></p> + +<h4>BOSTON:</h4> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<h5>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by</h5> +<h4>HENRY HOYT,</h4> +<h5>In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.</h5> + +<h5><span class="smcap">Innes and Niles</span>,</h5> +<h5>Stereotypers and Printers,</h5> +<h5>37 <span class="smcap">Cornhill, Boston</span>.</h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CONTENTS." id="CONTENTS."></a>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<p><br /></p> + + +<div class='centered'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.—<span class="smcap">The Old Stone House</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.—<span class="smcap">Letters</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.—<span class="smcap">On the "White Gull"</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.—<span class="smcap">Disappointments</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.—<span class="smcap">The First Evening</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.—<span class="smcap">Culm Sights</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.—<span class="smcap">How the Month was spent</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.—<span class="smcap">Noll's Decision</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.—<span class="smcap">Dirk's Trouble</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X.—<span class="smcap">In the Sea</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI.—<span class="smcap">Dirk's Treasure</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII.—<span class="smcap">Firelight Talk</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII.—<span class="smcap">The Winter's Waning</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV.—<span class="smcap">Ned Thorn</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV.—<span class="smcap">Plans</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI.—<span class="smcap">The Work Begun</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII.—<span class="smcap">The Work Progressing</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII.—<span class="smcap">The Work Finished</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX.—<span class="smcap">A Happy Walk</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX.—<span class="smcap">New Thoughts and New Plans</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI.—<span class="smcap">In Peril of the Sea</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII.—<span class="smcap">Weary Watching</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII"><b>CHAPTER XXIII.—<span class="smcap">Waiting</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV"><b>CHAPTER XXIV.—<span class="smcap">Days of Calm</span></b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV"><b>CHAPTER XXV.—<span class="smcap">Out of the Sea</span></b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph1" id="glyph1"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 1" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h1><a name="CULM_ROCK" id="CULM_ROCK"></a>CULM ROCK.</h1> +<p><br /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><br /></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Old Stone House</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgc.jpg" alt="C" title="C" /></div><p>ulm rock was a wild place. You might search the coast for miles and +not find another bit of nature so bare and rent and ragged as this. So +fiercely had the storms driven over it, so wildly had the wind and +waves beat, that the few cedars which once flourished as its only bit +of greenness were long ago dead, and now held up only bleached and +ragged hands. Jutting out into the sea, the surf rolled and thundered +along its jagged shore of rock and sand, and was never silent. It +would have been an island but for the narrow strips of sand, heaped +high and ridgelike, which bound it to the main land; and this slender +bridge, it often seemed, would be torn away by the ravenous sea which +gnawed and engulfed great tracts at once, and yet heaped it higher and +broader in the next storm. Beyond, on the firm and unyielding land, +the pine woods stood up, vast, dim, and silent, stretching away into +the interior. So, with the great dark barrier of forest behind and the +waste of shining sea in front, Culm Rock seemed shut out from all the +rest of the world. True, sails flitted along the horizon, and the +smoke of foreign-bound steamers trailed against the sky, giving token +of the great world's life and stir; and there were Skipper Ben and the +"White Gull" who touched at the little wharf at Culm every week; but +for these, the people—for there were people who dwelt here—might +have lived in another sphere for aught they knew or were conscious of +what was transpiring in the wonderful land which lay beyond the +stretch of sea, and between which and themselves the "White Gull" was +the only means of communication.</p> + +<p>Do you wonder that people could spend their lives here, die, and never +have seen the world without? There were only a dozen houses,—poor, +racked, weather-beaten things, nestled on a bit of sand on a far +corner of Culm,—inhabited by fishermen and their families. They were +rough, hardy folk, but ignorant, and with only ambition enough to get +their living out of the great sea, and a poor and scanty enough living +at that. Skipper Ben brought them molasses and calicoes down in the +"White Gull," and took their fish in exchange; and if he told them a +bit of news from the great city and the greater world, it was all very +well. If he failed to do this, it was all very well too.</p> + +<p>Back of the fisher huts, the rocks rose high and dark, and quite hid +the pine woods and the isthmus of yellow sand, and everything that +could make Culm at all cheery or pleasant. This eminence was Wind +Cliff, and served as a landmark for all the sailors whose path lay +along the coast. Around this the gulls were alway flitting and +screaming, and their nests were everywhere in the crevices of the +rocks. Bald and gray it rose, scarred and rent with storms and age, +and so steep as to be almost inaccessible. It fronted the north-west, +and from its sharp tip the rock sloped south to the sea, and held in +one of its great hollows down by the shore a house—such a house as +you would not have looked for at Culm—with walls of stone and tall, +ancient chimneys and deep-set windows, like eyes looking forever at +the sea.</p> + +<p>It was so dark and weather-beaten that at first sight you might almost +fancy it to be but some quaint, odd shape which the rocks had taken, +by dint of the stress of winds and waves beating upon them for long +ages. But a house it was, and made by human hands, and human beings +dwelt in it. At night the red light from its windows streamed out upon +the water, and in many a dark and tempestuous watch had Skipper Ben +guided the "White Gull" into port through the friendly gleaming of +this beacon. For a long period of years the old house had stood empty +and tenantless, the windows and doors broken and gone, the wind +sweeping through and the rain beating in, and everything but the stout +walls and chimneys a ruin. The superstitious fishermen would not +inhabit it, and told tales of smugglers and pirates who made it their +haunt, with other fanciful stories which always seem to linger about +the sea, and in which there was not the faintest shadow of truth. +Desolate and neglected, it stood there year after year, till, one day, +Skipper Ben brought down carpenters and masons on the "White Gull," +and straightway they went at work upon the old house. Doors went up, +windows went in, a piazza pushed itself out towards the sea-front, +and there was great bustle and activity about it for weeks. Then the +laborers went away, and when the skipper came again, he brought, +instead of groceries and store-cloth, a great quantity of furniture, +the like of which the poor people at Culm Rock had never seen, and +with the furniture came the master of the new house—a sorrowful, +bowed man—and his housekeeper, a thin, wrinkled negro woman.</p> + +<p>Then the smoke curled out of the great stone chimneys once more, the +light streamed from the windows at night, and the fishermen and +sailors rejoiced that at last the old house had found a tenant and no +longer yawned bare and empty. The "White Gull" came more than once +with a cargo for the master of the stone house, who, the skipper told +the Culm folk, "was a mighty rich man, but the down-heartedest chap +he'd ever cast eyes on. Why, man, he just sot lookin' over the rail +the best part o' the way down, with his eyes in the water, and said no +more nor a stone. What ye think? Now lookee here, men, let me give ye +a bit o' advice. Don't ye go to pesterin' him with yer talk and yer +questions; fur he's diff'rent make 'an I be, an' 'twon't do. Let him +alone, an' keep yer own side o' the Rock."</p> + +<p>The skipper's word was looked upon with respect by all the fish-folk, +and they heeded his advice. So, in consequence, the owner of the stone +mansion was undisturbed, and lived in the greatest seclusion. He never +came within the limits of the little village, and whenever he was +seen, it was only as pacing slowly along the shore. He passed the +fishermen as they were hanging up their seines in the sun without +heeding them, or acknowledging their respectful bows. The old black +housekeeper came down to the village sometimes after fish or gulls' +eggs, but went her way without satisfying the eager questions with +which the women plied her. So one year passed away, then a second, and +the master of the stone house was still as much a mystery to the poor +fishers as ever. He rarely walked upon the sand, gave them not a look +if ever they chanced to meet, and living, apparently, for no one but +himself, took not the slightest interest in their welfare, cared +naught for wreck or disaster on the shore, and seemed always stern and +sorrowful.</p> + +<p>No company ever came down on the "White Gull" to visit this strange +and silent man, and he had no friends, apparently. Skipper Ben +brought stores for him occasionally, and sometimes a letter; but this +last event was a rare one, and the man seemed to have little more +communication with the great world out of which he had come than did +the humble Culm fishermen. With winds and storms, the third year +rolled around, and the master of the old house was still as much of a +recluse as ever; but the Culm people had ceased to regard him with any +interest, and the man led a most solitary life, hardly seeing a human +being, other than his housekeeper, from month to month. Do you wonder +what could make him so stern and sad? Here is his story:—</p> + +<p>One sweet and golden summer day, a man stood by the bedside of his +wife,—he, crushed and heart-broken; she, faint and dying, but calm +and loving and comforting. She held his hand, and whispered brokenly +such words as she could only hope to comfort him with; and the last +faint whisper which trembled on her lips was, "Oh, Richard, don't +fail—don't fail to—to find Him and cling to Him, and come—come +up—too." And with that she was dead. And the man left the bedside, +and went out into the summer fields, where the birds were flitting and +the bees droning and the wide earth seemed brimming with life and joy, +and prayed that he might die too, since she was gone. But the birds +sang on as joyously as ever, and the sun shone no less brightly +because of the sorrow in the earth, and after his first tears were +shed, his heart began to grow hard and bitter, and he put away the +dying whisper, and went back to the dear dead face, cold and stern. +His friends came to console him, but he would not listen, and after it +was all over, and the gentle face hidden forever under the brown +earth, he began to think of fleeing to some spot where he might find +rest and quietness, and hide himself from all thoughts of the dear one +who had left him, smothering his sorrow, and living as if she had not +been. "I have been robbed," he said, bitterly; "all my happiness has +been stolen from me. I can't seek Him; I will not. Oh, if there is a +kind and merciful God, why has he stricken me? why has he taken all +the joy out of my life? why has he left me without a comforter in the +world?" So, without seeking for a Comforter, without striving to "find +Him," as the dear voice had whispered, he turned away and strove to +crush out the love and the tender memories which haunted his heart, +and most of all that dying whisper which said, "Don't fail—don't fail +to find <i>Him</i>."</p> + +<p>Grown suddenly stern and morose, Richard Trafford looked about him for +a refuge where he might flee from all society, and most of all from +the spot where <i>her</i> presence seemed yet to linger. He discovered wild +and solitary Culm Rock, and purchased the old stone house. Here, he +thought, with the everlasting sound of the sea in his ears, with all +the wildness and barrenness about him, and apart from the rest of +mankind, he would bury himself, and forget all the bright and happy +days which had passed. He left his friends without giving them any +clew to his whereabouts, and with faithful old Hagar, who persisted in +following him, took up his abode by the sea. But do you think his +sorrow lessened? Do you think he found peace and happiness again? He +carried his hard and bitter heart with him, and there was no happiness +to be found by the sea. One year after another rolled away until the +three were gone, and still he was wandering along his own thorny path, +bowed with his sorrow, sighing and lamenting for the bright form which +had left him, and still deaf to its whisper, "Find <i>Him</i>, and come up +too." He walked on the sands, lonely and desolate; he paced about the +great rooms of the stone house, oppressed and heavy-hearted; he shut +himself up in his library and pored over books in vain. His sorrow +clung to him, followed him everywhere; his heart was stubborn and +bitter and rebellious. Perhaps he despaired of ever losing the +burden, for one day he brought out a portrait, wrapped and swathed +with great care, and, tearing all the veilings off, gazed once more on +the sainted face which he had not looked upon for three long and heavy +years. He did not hide it again, but hung it upon his library wall, +where the tender face and calm and loving eyes looked down and almost +melted him to tears.</p> + +<p>He wondered how he could have kept it veiled and hidden so long. He +wondered if those three years had not been spent in vain, unless it +were to learn that he could not crush out his sweet memories if he +tried.</p> + +<p>He sank down into his chair as he thought of this, and going back over +the three past dreary years, remembered what a weary blank they were, +thought, with a heavy sigh, what a shipwreck his life had been, and +how he was now floating about without rudder or compass or anchor, +merely a drifting wreck. And as he sits there in the sunshine which +streams through the wide, high old window, we will see him for the +first time.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph4" id="glyph4"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 4" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph5" id="glyph5"></a> +<img src="images/fig005.jpg" alt="glyph 5" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Letters</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgr.jpg" alt="R" title="R" /></div><p>ichard Trafford was a man of forty; but his hair was tinged with +gray, and grief and wretchedness had worn heavy lines in his face. As +he sat in the library this September afternoon, looking up at the +portrait on the wall, he seemed almost an old man. The room was wide +and high, with tall oaken bookcases at either end. Two great windows, +before one of which he sat, looked out upon the sea and the white line +of foam curling upon the sand. The waves were but mere ripples this +calm afternoon, but from the shore there came up a ceaseless, steady +murmur that made itself heard in the quiet of the room; and by and by +Trafford's eyes turned from the calm face above him and looked out +seaward. White and shining lay the vast expanse, with here and there +the faint film of a sail upon the horizon. Nothing to be seen but +water and the great dome of sky and the little spit of yellow sand +where the tide was murmuring. How many sunny afternoons he had thus +looked out upon the sea, vast and gleaming! How many lonely afternoons +and long, weary nights he had listened to the slow chanting of the +tide, watched it creep up the sand with its puffs of thick foam, +watched it as it slowly receded and left its burden of weed and shell +behind! Flowing and ebbing forever, alway at its work, in and out, in +and out, through storm and shine, through night and day, it seemed to +mock his own idle, useless life, and reproach him with its never +silent voice. Of what use, he wondered as he sat there, was such a +life as his? To-morrow the tide would be at its work again, the ships +go on, the sun shine warm and bright over all,—and he? For him +to-morrow would be but the repetition of to-day; the same dragging +hours, the same apathetic poring over books, the same half-hours at +the organ with the music-books, playing sad melodies which accorded +well with his own sombre feelings. He looked up at the portrait and +sighed; remembered the dear one's dying words, and thought, "I might +have found Him once; but it's too late now. All that passed away a +long time ago, and now,—it's only to plod on and on, year in and year +out, till the end." And what then?</p> + +<p>There came a soft rap at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Hagar," said he, heavily, without taking his eyes off the +sea; and then the door was pushed open, and a head, surmounted by a +great yellow turban, looked in.</p> + +<p>"Somethin' fur you, Mas'r Dick," said the owner of the turban, without +coming in, however.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Trafford, abstractedly.</p> + +<p>The door opened wider, and the old housekeeper entered. She was bent +and thin, with great wrinkles in her forehead and face, and wherever a +tuft of wool peeped out from under the fanciful headgear, it showed +quite gray; but her step was quick and firm as she went across the +floor to the figure by the great window.</p> + +<p>"A letter, Mas'r Dick," said she, standing by Trafford's chair; "dat +yer old skipper brought it. Said he brung it straight from de city."</p> + +<p>"Ben Tate?" asked the master.</p> + +<p>Hagar nodded assent. "Said ye was to hev it dis yer afternoon, sure," +said she; "'twa'n't no letter to be lyin' 'round in dem Culm huts, so +he cum up here wid it hisself. Be it frum Hastings, Mas'r Dick?"</p> + +<p>Hagar had lived in the Trafford family from childhood, and Richard had +grown up to manhood under her eyes, had married, and she went to live +with the young people. She had seen the wife fade and die, and the +husband grow stern and gloomy, and out of solicitude and affection had +clung faithfully to him through all fortunes. It would seem, to hear +her talk, that she never had quite realized that Richard Trafford, the +man of forty, was any other than "Mas'r Dick," the boy whose smartness +at school, and whose popularity among his companions, had always been +her boast and pride. Gray and worn he was getting, gloomy, sad, even +harsh at times to her, yet he was only "Mas'r Dick," and her own +little boy, for whom she must watch and care to the best of her +ability. Now, as she queried where the letter might be from, she +dropped down in a chair a little way from him, and waited till he +should see fit to answer her question; for could there be a paradise +on earth, it would have been represented to Hagar by Hastings,—that +great city where their old home had been, where her own childhood had +been spent, and where all the friends of her kin and color dwelt. It +was a hard matter to tear herself away from them all and follow +Richard Trafford to dreary Culm Rock; but, with some tears and +sighing, she had said to her people, "Yer don't know nuffin about it. +Ye habn't got any 'Mas'r Dick;' so how ken ye? 'Tain't in dis yer old +heart to let de chile go off sufferin' all by hisself, now! Bress de +Lord, I'll stick to de poor boy, an' keep him frum jes' worryin' his +life out." So here she was in her old age, away from all her people, +yet happy because it was to serve "Mas'r Dick."</p> + +<p>Trafford took up the letter,—a large, thick one, bearing the marks +of the skipper's great fingers on its envelope, and smelling of fish, +as if it had performed its journey in company with herring and +cod,—and said, "Yes, Hagar; it's from Hastings, of course."</p> + +<p>The old housekeeper lingered, looked at the master in hopes that he +would bid her stay, and then, as he tore open the letter with a moody +face, went slowly out, closing the door softly behind her.</p> + +<p>The handwriting was unfamiliar, and Trafford wondered where it came +from, feeling vexed that it should have arrived at that moment; and so +began to read an emphatically business letter:—</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 19.5em;">"<span class="smcap">Hastings</span>, Sept. 7th.</span><br /></p> + +<p>"<i>To Mr. Richard Trafford, of Culm Rock</i>:</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I am sorry to be under the painful necessity of informing you +of your brother's death. The Rev. Oliver Trafford died the 15th of +March last, leaving me as the executor of his estate. He was anxious +to see you till the very last; but as we had no clew to your +whereabouts, and only discovered your place of residence by accident a +short time ago, that pleasure was denied him. He left one child—a boy +of fourteen, or thereabouts—for whose welfare he was much distressed. +He often expressed it as his desire that, should you ever make your +appearance, this boy might be received by you as your own, and, +indeed, left written statements to that effect. There is, also, among +his private papers, a sealed letter for you, which, I doubt not, +contains some such request. The boy, I am happy to say, is not likely +to prove a burden or trouble to you, being obedient and all that +could be desired. He is smart and sprightly, and quite a favorite in +the circle in which his father moved, and from my own acquaintance +with him (very intimate during the past six months) can assure you +that he will prove anything but a poor acquisition.</p> + +<p>"As to the estate, I am sorry to say that Mr. Trafford left but little +of value,—enough, perhaps, to educate the boy; but, as I hear you are +a gentleman of fortune, this, I presume, is a matter of very little +moment. I shall be happy to show you your brother's accounts at any +time, and to have the honor of answering any inquiries which you may +be disposed to make. I enclose a note from your nephew. Awaiting your +decision in the matter, I am, sir, your most obedient servant,</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 24em;">"<span class="smcap">Thomas Gray</span>.</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Room 8, at No. 67 Court St."</span><br /> + + + +<p>With a gloomy face, Trafford laid down the lawyer's letter, and took +up his nephew's. He did not remember ever having seen the boy. He was, +most likely, a crazy, boisterous lad, that would be forever in +mischief, and bring the house about their heads. As for having him at +Culm Rock, it was too preposterous a thought to be entertained for a +moment. He had decided at once how Mr. Gray's letter should be +answered, and felt too indifferent to care about reading his nephew's. +What did these things matter to him? Yet, after a time, he thought +better of it, and took up the note again, saying to himself, "I'll +read it, if only because it's poor Noll's boy;" and opening the +missive, found therein the following frank boy's letter:—</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 13em;">"<span class="smcap">Hastings</span>, Sept. 7th.</span><br /></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<span class="smcap">Dear Uncle Richard</span>,—I don't know what to say to you—it all seems so</span><br /> +strange and awkward. Mr. Gray said I was to write, however, and send +the note with his; so I am trying. It is such a long time since I saw +you that I've forgotten your face, and I think you must have forgotten +that there was such a person as myself in the world. Papa died almost +six months ago, and he said all the time, at the last, 'Go for Uncle +Richard!' but I didn't know where you were, and Mr. Gray could not +find out till a short time ago; so papa died without seeing you. I +don't know what he wanted to say, but he told me that I was to live +with you and be your boy; and Mr. Gray says the papers say the same +thing." Here the writer had evidently faltered, and been at a loss +how to proceed further with intelligence which it, apparently, was +very irksome for him to disclose; but he continued with, "There are +only you and me left, and I am sure I would like very much to be your +boy and live with you, as papa said; but—but I don't know—I +mean—Well, I can't say it, Uncle Richard, but I mean that I wish I +might know what you thought about it first. I wouldn't like to come, +you know, unless you liked,—unless you were <i>glad</i> to have me. Mr. +Gray has all papa's business to settle, and I suspect he wants to get +me settled, too, somewhere, pretty quick; and so, if you please, I +hope you won't mind whatever he may say about me, and only do just as +you like about giving him permission to send me. I can find a home +somewhere, if you would rather.</p> + +<p>"My name is Oliver,—Noll, everybody calls me; I'm almost fifteen, and +have always been at school in Hastings, and papa used to give me +lessons beside. Is there a school at Culm Rock? I do wish you could +have seen papa, dear Uncle Richard, he longed so for you when he died; +but there is a letter for you among his papers, which will be sent to +Culm Rock, if I do not come to bring it. Mr. Gray will tell you all +about me, I suppose, and the affairs besides; so I will stop.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">"Your nephew,</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">"<span class="smcap">Noll Trafford</span>.</span><br /> + +<p>"—And don't mind what Mr. Gray says, please, and only do as you +like."</p> + +<p>Richard Trafford finished this letter with something like a grim smile +on his lips.</p> + +<p>"The boy has got the true Trafford spirit," he said to himself, "and +some of Brother Noll's gentleness, I fancy. Ah, Noll was always a +happier man than I!"</p> + +<p>He read the boy's letter again, wondering what made it seem so bright +and pleasant, and feeling vexed with himself for doing it. Why should +he care for this boy or this boy's letter? Had he not fled to Culm +Rock to escape all knowledge of what was transpiring in the world +without,—to forget friends and kin, if that was possible? He looked +up and met the sweet, grave eyes of his wife looking down into his, +and read something there which made his eyes fill and his lip quiver.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he sighed, "why did I not try to follow after?" And with this +thought in his heart, he rose and stood by the window, looking down at +the crawling tide. His thoughts came back to the boy, presently, and +with another grim smile upon his face, he remembered what a dull and +dreary place Culm Rock would be for a lad of fourteen. He would soon +tire of it, and be glad enough to go back to Hastings, he fancied. If +he was a wild boy, he should go back on the return of the "White +Gull;" if he could be tolerated, he might stay till he tired of it. It +was poor Brother Noll's boy, after all, he thought, and he could not +make his heart quite hard enough to refuse him a home. So, when +Skipper Ben returned to Hastings with his next cargo of fish, he +carried a letter hidden away under his pea-jacket, and this was what +it contained:—</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 14em;">"<span class="smcap">Culm Rock</span>, Sept. 12th.</span><br /> + +<p>"<i>To Noll Trafford</i>:</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">"Come; you are welcome.</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">"<span class="smcap">Uncle Richard</span>."</span><br /> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph7" id="glyph7"></a> +<img src="images/fig007.jpg" alt="glyph 7" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">On the "White Gull"</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he breeze was crisp and fresh that morning, and the skipper anxious +to set sail. Everything was in readiness on board the "White Gull," +but still its master did not give the word to cast off, and stumped up +and down the deck, muttering and grumbling to his mate.</p> + +<p>"Allus jes' so!" he said, wrathfully; "these town folks never up to +time. Think on't, Jack, that 'ere lawyer, Gray, promised to get the +youngster here a good half-hour afore sunrise! Here it's sun-up +already, and this breeze won't last forever, nuther."</p> + +<p>"Why don't ye go 'long 'thout him?" queried Jack Snape from his seat +on a bucket.</p> + +<p>"Would, ef 'twa'n't fur that pesky lawyer!" growled the skipper; "an' +'tain't every day ye can get a passenger fur the Rock, nuther. Mought +as well take what passage-money he can, a fellow mought, Jack."</p> + +<p>The mate of the "White Gull" began to whistle, and fumbling in his +pea-jacket brought out a pipe and tobacco, with which he proceeded to +console himself. Skipper Ben took a few more impatient turns up and +down the deck, and sat down at last in grim despair, while the wind +came in strong, steady puffs, and the craft rocked and swayed gently +on the swell of the tide. The city behind them was hardly awake yet. +Its roofs and steeples loomed through a veil of haze or smoke which +hovered over and clung about the towers, and only a faint murmur told +of the stir and bustle which were presently to reign. On the wharves a +few early drays were rumbling down after their loads of merchandise, +and one or two vessels had left their moorings, and, taking advantage +of the favorable breeze, were standing out to sea, which fact did not +at all add to Skipper Ben's good-nature.</p> + +<p>"Here they come," drawled the mate, putting up his pipe; and then a +carriage came rattling down the wharf, stopping in front of the "White +Gull."</p> + +<p>"Come at last, hev ye?" shouted the skipper, gruffly. "Call this a +half-hour afore sunrise, squire?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said the lawyer, looking at his watch, "I thought we were +prodigiously early. Driver, put these trunks aboard in a hurry, since +the skipper is waiting; and—Noll, are you ready?"</p> + +<p>The skipper left his craft and came to bear a hand with the trunks, +looking askance, meanwhile, at the boy who had got out of the carriage +and stood on the wharf's edge, surveying the "Gull."</p> + +<p>"Hope you'll have a good run, skipper," said the lawyer, as the +baggage went over into a cavernous aperture in the deck; "fine breeze, +I should say. Have a good care of this passenger of yours, man."</p> + +<p>"Ay, squire, we'll manage. Can't stop fur words from ye this morning; +should ha' been a long piece down the coast afore this time o' day. +Bear a hand there, Jack!"</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Noll," said the lawyer; "keep up a stout heart, my boy, and +don't forget your city friends. You'll have a fine run down to Culm, +and you must send me a line back by the skipper. Good-by!" and Mr. +Gray got into his carriage and rolled back toward the city.</p> + +<p>Noll Trafford stood leaning against a great post and looking after the +lawyer's carriage with a slight choking in his throat, till the +skipper's gruff "Get aboard here, lad!" warned him that the "Gull" was +about to cast off. Slowly the wharf glided away, and the little +coasting vessel stood out into the channel. The city spread itself out +behind them, a long maze of brick and slate, with spires and domes +showing dimly through the blue haze which wrapped them about. On the +far, watery horizon lay a belt of vapory clouds which presently began +to rend and tear and float off in ragged masses, and then a great red +sun gleamed through and made a golden roadway across the sea, and +transformed the misty fleeces of vapor to wonderful hangings of +amethyst, streaked with great threads of scarlet.</p> + +<p>"Jes' sunrise!" muttered the skipper; "make the best o' this 'ere +breeze, eh, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Ay," drawled the mate, "we'll catch it afore long, skipper."</p> + +<p>The city's old cold front suddenly gleamed out in vivid gold, the +spires grew rosy in the first rays of sunlight, and, all its dimness +and dulness gone, Hastings lay gleaming and glowing in the fair +morning light like some vision of fairyland.</p> + +<p>Noll Trafford, sitting on a great bale of merchandise near the stern +of the "Gull," gazed at the city, slowly sinking and fading in the +sea, with a feeling somewhat akin to homesickness. It had never looked +so bright to him before as at this moment of his departure from it, +and he was leaving behind a great many friends—all his school +acquaintances, all the scenes and haunts that were dear to him—to +go—where? He hardly knew, himself, but his bright fancy had pictured +Culm as some pleasant little sea town, where there would, perhaps, be +a great beach to ramble upon and hunt for minerals and shells, and +where he would soon make plenty of new acquaintances. And Uncle +Richard he had pictured to himself as a gentle, kind man,—grave, +perhaps, but who would love him and try to fill the place of his own +dead father. So, with these bright visions filling his mind, it was +little wonder that he turned from the stern, after Hastings had faded +into the merest blue dot on the horizon-line, and looked forward to +the time when the journey's end should be reached, with happy +anticipations. Before them lay the vast and boundless sea, with no +trace of shore or island save a low blue belt in the south, like a +cloud, and the "Gull" began to pitch and toss somewhat with the great +ocean-swell. Skipper Ben, having got well in the way of the breeze +which was carrying his vessel steadily before it, began to regain his +good-humor. Sitting on the top of a cask, he puffed away at his pipe +and soliloquized to himself about his passenger, who sat regarding +Jack Snape's movements at the helm with much interest. The skipper +had three or four boys at home,—great sturdy, brown-faced, +stout-armed fellows,—between whom and this fair-faced, curly-headed +boy there was little resemblance, he felt. "Town breedin', town +breedin'," muttered he; "it's curl's what it'll make of a lad. This +chap'll grow up with his head full o' le'rnin' into a lawyer or parson +or somethin' like, and my lads'll be skippers like their dad, with no +le'rnin' to speak on. I'll warrant this lad could get off more +book-stuff in five minutes 'an mine ever heerd on." His eyes followed +the boy as he went out to stand by Jack's elbow and ply this +slow-witted gentleman with quick, eager questions. He was slender and +rather tall for one of his age, but lithe and agile, as the skipper +noted. "One o' mine could jes' trip him with a turn o' his hand," +thought he; yet he regarded the lad with a mixture of kindness and +respect, after all. There were other things in the world beside bone +and muscle, he remembered, and when the boy came slowly along the +deck, after a fruitless attempt to coax the mate into conversation, he +put out one of his big red hands and stopped him. Noll looked up, +inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Goin' down to Culm for a bit o' vacation?—to git scarce o' the +books, eh?" queried the skipper.</p> + +<p>"Vacation? Oh, no," said the boy, quickly; "I'm going there to +live,—to have a home."</p> + +<p>The master of the "Gull" came near dropping his pipe with amazement. +"<i>You</i> live at Culm!" said he, incredulous; "what ye goin' to live +in?"</p> + +<p>It was Noll's turn to look amazed. He suddenly faced the skipper, +saying, very earnestly, "What kind of a place is Culm Rock, anyhow? +Isn't it a town?"</p> + +<p>A broad grin stretched across the old sailor's face, then he laughed +aloud. "Did ye hear that, Jack?" he cried; "here's a lad what's goin' +to Culm to live, an' he wants to know ef it's a town!"</p> + +<p>"'Twon't take him long to find out arter he gets there," drawled Mr. +Snape.</p> + +<p>Noll turned away and walked to the stern, thinking the skipper was a +very uncivil fellow to laugh at his ignorance, and sat down again on +the bale, secretly ill at ease on account of these sailors' words. +What kind of a place could Culm Rock be?</p> + +<p>All around the boundless waste of waves flashed and glittered under +the sun, and the "Gull" sailed steadily on her course with not a +fleck of land in sight,—nothing around but the vast blue of the +sea,—above, only the great azure arch of sky. It was a new and +strange sight to Noll Trafford. He lay on his back on the bale, and +looked up into the wonderful depths of the blue dome, where no clouds +sailed, and speculated about his destination. Somehow, the bright +vision of a pleasant sea town with a shining beach of sand and pebbles +had faded, and in its stead there was doubt and perplexity. Was it +only a rock, as the name suggested, and no town? However, Uncle +Richard was there, and that was one comfort; and perhaps the skipper +was only joking, after all. He wished, though, that he might know what +to expect; he wondered why he had not thought to ask Mr. Gray before +starting. He lay a long time listening to the rush of water about the +vessel, a strange and unusual sound to his ears. By and by a brawny +hand touched his shoulder, and a gruff voice said,—</p> + +<p>"Lookee here, lad!" Noll turned about and saw the skipper. "'Twa'n't +manners in me to laugh at ye, I 'low," said he, good-humoredly; "but +'twas droll, ennyhow. Hain't ye never been to Culm afore?"</p> + +<p>"Never," said Noll.</p> + +<p>"An' ye don't know nuthin' what it's like?"</p> + +<p>"No; how should I?" said his passenger; "I didn't know there was such +a place in the world a month ago."</p> + +<p>The skipper looked incredulous once more. "An' now ye goin' there to +live!" he exclaimed; "why, there ben't but one house there fit fur +such as you, an' 'tain't there ye're bound, not by a long shot!"</p> + +<p>"But <i>one</i> house! Whose is it?" cried Noll, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Why, it be one Trafford's, one o' the strangest—" A sudden +expression in the boy's face checked the words on the skipper's +tongue, and the truth began to dawn upon his slow brain. "Great +fishes!" cried he, falling back a step or two, "ye ben't goin' +<i>there</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Noll, as quietly as he could. "Why not?"</p> + +<p>The skipper gave him a long, steady survey, and then stumped away +across the deck without another word, leaned over the rail, and began +to whistle. Noll looked after him, half determined to follow and +demand what he meant, yet half dreading to learn that all his visions +were a great way from the truth. Perhaps it would be better to wait, +he thought; night would bring the journey to an end, and then he +should know all. So he did not follow the skipper, but kept his seat, +while a great many shadowy forebodings crept into his heart, and he +began to look back over the trackless waste which they had come, and +wish, almost, that he was back in dear old Hastings—in the old home +where papa and he had spent so many happy hours—and that Culm Rock +was a myth. The sun rose royally up to noon, and odors of dinner began +to ascend from the hatchway. Noll had a dinner of his own somewhere in +a basket, which he brought forth and ate on the bale which served him +for a seat, enjoying the novelty in spite of the anxious speculations +concerning his new home in which he could not help indulging.</p> + +<p>After dinner the skipper was in better humor than ever, and took his +turn at the helm. Noll, wandering about the deck, stopped to watch +him, whereupon the master of the "Gull" good-naturedly answered all +his questions, and even allowed him to take the tiller a few minutes, +laughing the while at his white hands that could hardly grasp it.</p> + +<p>"Wish ye could see my lads' hands!" he said; "could take both 'o' +yourn in one uv 'em, an' not know they was holding anything. But +you'll have browner paws afore ye leave Culm!"</p> + +<p>"Of course!" said Noll, "for I'm going to get Uncle Richard to teach +me to row,—I can swim now,—and I'm going to be around the shore half +the time."</p> + +<p>"Likely enough, likely enough!" said the skipper, meditatively; and +when Noll had passed on, he muttered, "It's a pesky shame fur the lad +to be sent off and cooped up on the Rock! Don't know what he's comin' +to, nuther. I'll be blamed ef I ain't sorry for the boy!"</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph9" id="glyph9"></a> +<img src="images/fig009.jpg" alt="glyph 9" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Disappointments</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgi.jpg" alt="I" title="I" /></div><p>t was late afternoon when land loomed up blue on the horizon. Mr. +Snape had taken the tiller, and Noll stood leaning over the rail by +him, eager and watchful for the first look at Culm. "Mought as well +wait a bit," Jack Snape had drawled out; "we sha'n't get there fur a +long while yet, lad."</p> + +<p>But the boy chose to keep his place, and kept his eyes unweariedly on +the distant point for which the "Gull" was making. Yet it was but +tiresome watching, after all, and the brisk breeze seemed to have +failed them somewhat, for the vessel's speed had sensibly diminished.</p> + +<p>"He'll be glad 'nough to look t'other way arter he gits there," +muttered Skipper Ben, between the whiffs at his pipe; "my lads 'ud +think they's killed for sartin to be shut up there a week." He got up +at last, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and disappeared down the +hatchway, returning presently with a spy-glass, which he carried to +his passenger with, "Lookee here, boy, take this an' make out what ye +ken. 'Tain't much ye'll see yet, but mebby ye'll get a look arter a +time." He sat down again, looking at the boy's face from time to time, +and wondering if this sending him to Culm Rock was not some of that +Lawyer Gray's work. The skipper had not a very high opinion of +lawyers.</p> + +<p>Slowly, slowly the blue point began to take shape, and Noll's glass +brought it to his eyes all too faithfully. The skipper saw the eager +look and the warm color which had been on his face fade slowly out as +the "Gull" drew nearer and nearer the journey's end, and the +warm-hearted sailor waxed indignant. "Mought ha' told him what ter +expect, anyhow!" he muttered, shaking a great bale with his brawny +hands as if it had been Lawyer Gray's shoulders.</p> + +<p>The "Gull" stood in toward shore. First, the pine woods, vast and +sombre, showed themselves; then, a little way on, Culm Rock came +slowly into view, bald, ragged, and desolate. Noll's face was very +grave, but he kept his place and said nothing. Slowly the curve of +the shore unfolded itself, a long line of yellow sand, length after +length of scarred and jagged rock. The sound of the surf came faintly +out, sounding over the ripple of water about the "Gull's" prow. Not a +sign of life, as yet, had showed itself. The vessel kept steadily on +till, at last, the whole great breadth of the Rock lay before them, +rising huge and massive out of the sea, and, in a sheltered hollow on +the shore, a great stone house stood up, gray and weather-beaten as +the cliffs about it.</p> + +<p>"Is that the house?" Noll asked, turning to the skipper, and laying +down his glass.</p> + +<p>The old sailor nodded assent, thinking to himself that he had never +seen it look darker and gloomier, and wondering what the boy thought.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to stop?" Noll asked, as the "Gull" kept on, and the +stone house dropped astern.</p> + +<p>"Goin' round to the landin'," explained Mr. Snape; "'tain't good +moorin's till ye git half a mile fu'ther round. Ye'll git ashore +pretty quick."</p> + +<p>Under the cool and heavy shadow of the Rock they crept, coming out of +it at last into the full glory of the sun's setting. All the west was +aflame, and the sea glowed and sparkled like molten gold. Even the +wretched little Culm fish-huts looked almost fair and comely in this +flood of light.</p> + +<p>Noll Trafford scanned the little wharf, where a motley collection of +men were gathered, with a quick-beating heart. Which of them could be +Uncle Richard? Would he give him a kind welcome? The boy's spirits +began to rise somewhat under the influence of the broad, cheerful glow +of sunshine and the speedy prospect of meeting this uncle who was to +be as a father to him. The remembrance of the gray old house under the +shadow of the rocks around the curve of the shore still lay somewhat +heavily on his heart; but if Uncle Richard were only glad to see him, +all that would not matter, he thought. He stood by the prow as the +"Gull" moved slowly up to the wharf, eagerly scanning every face that +was watching the craft's motions. A sudden pang of disappointment +chilled him from head to foot, for among that idle, shiftless-looking +group, there was not one whom he could possibly mistake for his uncle. +They were all fishermen, dull-faced, dirty, and out at their elbows. +Some frowsy, ill-clad women had come out of their houses, and, with +children clinging to their skirts, looked on with idle curiosity.</p> + +<p>So this was Culm Rock! Noll's bright fancies had all fled, and his +heart was suddenly very heavy. He looked back across the sea toward +Hastings, longingly, and thus verified the skipper's prediction. If +Uncle Richard had only been there to greet him, he thought, chokingly, +it would not have mattered so much, but now, it was all forlorn and +dreary enough.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't much uv a town arter all; is it?" drawled Mr. Snape, with a +broad grin on his thick features.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Jack!" growled the skipper. "Can't ye see the lad's got all +he ken weather?" Then he turned to Noll, proffering his rough +sympathy. "Sorry fur ye!" he said. "Culm ain't the place for the like +o' you, an' what ye cum here fur, I can't see. But keep a stout heart, +lad, an' rough it out best way ye can; ain't no other way now."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to," said Noll, with an effort; "I won't mind after a +little, I guess. Good-by, skipper;" and he stepped out on to the +little wharf among the fish-folk, who made way, regarding him +curiously.</p> + +<p>"Keep 'long up the shore," called the master of the "Gull" after him, +"and you'll cum to the house afore long. I'll send yer trunks up by +some o' these 'ere good-fur-nothin' Culm folks. Good-by, lad!"</p> + +<p>The skipper watched the boyish figure walking away up the sands, and +remarked to his mate, "Ef I knew that was some o' Gray's work, I'd +jes' like the fun o' bringin' the ole chap down here on the 'Gull,' +an' lettin' him loose to browse on the rocks,—jes' to see how <i>he'd</i> +like it!"</p> + +<p>Noll walked briskly, trying to keep up good heart by whistling and +humming snatches of tunes, looking back over his shoulder at the +wonderful gleaming of the west, and the queer picture which the +fish-huts and the group of idlers made, with the "Gull" lying by the +little wharf, her cloud of canvas yet unfurled and its shadow gleaming +white as ivory in the depth of water on which she floated. At his feet +the tide was murmuring. How far and vast stretched the sea! What a +minute atom of earth was Culm Rock, compared with the boundless waste +of waves which compassed it about! Bending over all, the evening sky +lay cool and serene, flushed, where it met the water, with lovely +stains of color. Noll was but dimly conscious of these things as he +hurried on, because his heart was filled with conjectures about the +stone house and the friend he was to find there. The disappointment of +not finding his uncle awaiting him with a warm greeting still lay +heavily on his heart; and as he passed the curve of the shore, and the +stone house came in sight, his quick pace slackened, and he walked but +slowly.</p> + +<p>There was no one visible on the piazza. All the doors and windows were +closed, though the evening was warm and mild.</p> + +<p>The boy wondered if his uncle was absent. Perhaps, he thought, with a +little thrill of pleasure, that, after all, was the reason why Uncle +Richard had failed to meet him.</p> + +<p>A thin blue film of smoke crept up from one of the tall chimneys, +telling him that some one was within the gloomy old structure, which, +it seemed to him, looked much more like a grim fortress than a +<i>peaceful</i> dwelling. Not a blade of grass or anything green flourished +about it; all was rock and sand and stranded kelp.</p> + +<p>His heart beat fast as he went up the piazza-steps, and noted how his +footsteps echoed in the silence. He rapped on the great oaken +front-door. No one answered the summons. He rapped again, wondering if +Uncle Richard was really gone, and his heart began to grow heavy +again, as it had done upon his first disappointment at the wharf. The +lonely voice of the sea stole up to his ears, and he turned about to +look. Twilight was fast settling down upon it, and already the far +horizon was hidden; but along the shore the waves shone and gleamed +whitely. Noll's first pang of genuine homesickness came upon him here. +It seemed as if he had not a friend this side of the wide, dark sea.</p> + +<p>This second summons met with no better success than the first. Noll +turned away, went back down the steps, and there stopped to look about +him. He discovered some straggling footprints in the sand leading +around the corner of the house, and these he followed for lack of a +better guide. They led him to a long, low projection from the main +body of the house, a kitchen it appeared to be, and here he found a +wide-open door, from whence came the strains of a hymn half chanted, +half sung. Noll rapped. The singing ceased. A slow step came across +the kitchen floor, and a voice said, "Bress us! who's dis?"</p> + +<p>Noll looked up at the wrinkled black face framed by a great yellow +turban, and said,—</p> + +<p>"I'm Noll Trafford. Didn't—didn't Uncle Richard expect me?"</p> + +<p>Old Hagar threw up both hands crying, shrilly, "Bress de Lord! is dis +Noll Trafford's boy?" and then stared blankly at him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you mean Uncle Richard's brother," said Noll, still very +sad-hearted; "and wasn't he looking for me at all?"</p> + +<p>"Bress ye, honey!" said Hagar, recovering her senses, "he didn't say +one single word to me 'bout ye! Dun forgot it, I 'spose. But don't ye +stan' on dem yer steps another minnit; come right in, honey. I'll see +Mas'r Dick dis instant."</p> + +<p>Noll followed her into the little kitchen, where on the hearth a fire +was crackling and flashing its red flicker over the walls. He sat down +on a rough wooden bench by the door, wondering if his uncle could +really have forgotten that he was coming, and feeling not all +light-hearted, while Hagar clattered away to "see Mas'r Dick." She +came back pretty quick, saying,—</p> + +<p>"You's to go right in to de lib'ry, chile, right in jes' as soon as I +git dis yer candle lit;" and getting down on her knees she puffed away +at the coals and burned splinters till she succeeded in coaxing her +tallow candle to burn. She got up, came back to where Noll was +sitting, and holding the light close to his face, looked down at him +long and steadily.</p> + +<p>"Bress de Lord!" she said, stroking his curly hair, "you's de bery +picter ob yer father. 'Pears like 'twas him I see'd dis minnit 'fore +me! Did ye drop down frum de sky, or what, chile?"</p> + +<p>"I came down on the 'White Gull,'" Noll answered.</p> + +<p>"Well, now!" said Hagar; "an' why didn't yer father come too?"</p> + +<p>"Papa? Oh, why—papa is dead," said Noll, with a little quiver in his +voice which he could not possibly prevent, he was so lonely and +homesick.</p> + +<p>Old Hagar gave a shrill wail and set her candle down.</p> + +<p>"Now don't tell me dat!" she cried. "Mas'r Oliver dead? Well, well, +honey, we dunno nuffin on dis yer Rock? De whole ob creation might cum +to an' end, an' we nebber hear on't. An' you's all alone now, chile?"</p> + + +<p>"Yes," said Noll, feeling at that moment as if there wore never truer +words spoken.</p> + +<p>"An' you's come down to lib wid yer Uncle Dick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, bress de Lord fur dat!" said Hagar, joyfully; "couldn't a +better ting happened to dat yer man, nohow. Jes' what he wants,—a boy +like yerself, wid yer own father's face. An' did Mas'r Dick know ye's +comin'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he knew," said Noll; "he—he told me I'd be welcome. Do you +think I am?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, honey! What made ye ask dat? Yer Uncle Dick is a strange +man, an' ye mustn't mind if he don't say much to ye, an'—but come +right in de libr'y, chile, fur he's waitin' fur ye. Come right along; +I's lit de lamp in dar;" and taking up her candle, she led the way.</p> + +<p>"Don't yer mind dis ole hall," said Hagar, by way of apology as they +entered a long, bare, chilly corridor; "nobody comes here but me, an' +I don't mind. It's only my road frum de libr'y to de kitchen. <i>He</i> +nebber comes out here."</p> + +<p>From this hall they passed into the dining-room, where stood a +supper-table very plainly spread.</p> + +<p>"Mas'r Dick didn't eat nuffin to-night," said Hagar, glancing around +as she clattered on. At one end of the dining-room they came to a door +which the old housekeeper softly opened.</p> + +<p>"Go right in, honey," she said to Noll, in a whisper; "he's dar," and +then turned away.</p> + +<p>Richard Trafford sat by one of the great bookcases, reading. The +lamplight fell full upon his worn and sorrowful face. He did not hear +the door open, did not hear Noll's light step, and was first conscious +of the boy's presence when two arms were suddenly clasped about his +neck, and a voice, trembling with a mixture of joy and sadness, cried, +"Oh, Uncle Richard!"</p> + +<p><br /></p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph11" id="glyph11"></a> +<img src="images/fig011.jpg" alt="glyph 11" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph12" id="glyph12"></a> +<img src="images/fig012.jpg" width="400" height="157" alt="glyph 12" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The First Evening</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgr.jpg" alt="R" title="R" /></div><p>Richard Trafford, a little startled, unclasped the boy's hands without +a word, and held him off by one arm. Full in the light he held him, +gazing in his face long and keenly. Then he said, "So this is Noll!"</p> + +<p>Oh, how coldly the words fell upon the boy's heart! How the stern +voice and the keen gray eyes chilled him! Not a word of welcome, +after all,—only those four chilling words. The boy's disappointment +was so great, his heart so lonely and homesick, that he stood with +downcast eyes, before his uncle, to hide the tears that glittered in +them, and could not answer a word. Trafford released his nephew's arm +with a sigh. The boy was the very counterpart of his father, of +Brother Noll, he thought,—the same fair, high forehead and curling +locks, the same deep blue eyes, the same eager, impetuous manner. This +resemblance touched him somewhat; he noted, also, that the boy's lips +quivered a little, and so said, in a kindlier tone,—</p> + +<p>"You're very welcome to Culm, Noll. Are you tired with the journey?"</p> + +<p>"No—yes—some, I mean," stammered poor Noll, winking hard to keep +the tears back.</p> + +<p>"And you'd like some supper, I dare say," continued his uncle.</p> + +<p>"Yes, by and by," the nephew managed to answer.</p> + +<p>A silence fell upon them here,—long and deep,—in which the eternal +murmur of the sea stole in. Trafford's eyes did not move from the +boy's face; and at last he said, taking his hand,—</p> + +<p>"You're wonderfully like your father, Noll,—in more ways than one, I +hope. Can a lad like you ever be contented in this old house?"</p> + +<p>"I—I hope so, Uncle Richard," Noll replied, mocking these words, +however, by a very despairing tone.</p> + +<p>Trafford smiled grimly. "He's weary of it already," he thought; "and +who can wonder? Noll and I couldn't have endured it at his age, I +suppose." Then he added aloud, "If you tire of it, Noll, you shall +have liberty to return to Hastings whenever you choose. You're not to +stay against your will, remember. You may find it lonely and dull, +perhaps; if so, I leave you to go or stay, as you choose."</p> + +<p>The tone in which this was spoken was so sad that Noll ventured to +look up into his uncle's face. The gray eyes had lost their stern +light, and looked very sorrowful.</p> + +<p>"I—I will never want to go back, Uncle Richard, if you would like me +to stay," he said, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you don't know what you say, Noll," Trafford answered, stroking +the boy's hair; "it's a lonely place. For a boy it is horrible. Even +I sometimes find it but a weary resting-place. Ah! wait and see, wait +and see. I've little hope you'll stay longer than a month."</p> + +<p>At this Noll's heart gave a leap of joy. "Do you really <i>hope</i> I'll +stay, Uncle Richard?" he cried.</p> + +<p>Trafford looked at the boy's eager, searching face for a second, then +answered, "Yes, if you can be contented." This was hardly such an +answer as Noll craved, yet it made his heart lighter. Perhaps it was +only Uncle Richard's way, he thought, which made it seem as though he +was not welcome. The old black housekeeper, he remembered, had warned +him not to mind it. With this thought, his heart grew somewhat more +cheerful, and he began to take a brighter view of things. He noted the +tall cases of books and the open organ, and unconsciously these +evidences of taste and refinement made the thought of dwelling in the +stone house more acceptable. If Uncle Richard would only care for him, +he thought, all the rest would not matter.</p> + +<p>Trafford let go his hand, saying, "Go and get your supper, Noll; Hagar +will show you. Then, if you like, you can come back."</p> + +<p>The boy took two or three steps toward obeying, then, as if +remembering some duty unperformed, turned and came back.</p> + +<p>"I had forgotten the letter,—papa's letter,—Uncle Richard," he said, +drawing the missive from his pocket. "Would you like it now?"</p> + +<p>Trafford extended his hand without a word. Noll placed the precious +letter therein, and walked away, looking back at the door to see that +his uncle had broken the seal. Not till the boy's footsteps had died +away did the uncle look upon the hurriedly-traced lines which the note +contained. The letters were feebly made, hinting of the weakness of +the hand which traced them. This was what he found:—</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"<span class="smcap">My Dear Dick</span>,—I write this to you from my dying-bed, not</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">knowing that it will ever reach you, or that you are even</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">upon the face of the earth. If ever you <i>do</i> return,—if</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">ever you receive this, be kind to my poor Noll for my sake.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Make him your own,—he'll love you,—and make him such a</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">man, before God, as you know I would have him.</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"If he has disappeared, look him up, search for him, and</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">cherish the boy as my precious legacy. And, dear Dick, look</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">well to yourself. A man needs much when he lies where I am</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">lying. We ought to have been more to each other these past</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">years, not living with a great gulf, as it were, atween us.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">This and the thought of my boy is all that weighs upon me</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">now.</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"And, dear Dick, till we meet again, farewell, farewell.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 18em;"><span class="smcap">O. Trafford</span>."</span><br /> + +<p>A sudden mist came across the reader's eyes, a sudden throb to his +heart. Brother Noll! the blithe, warm-hearted, once precious brother! +he who had astonished all his friends by studying for a minister, and +who, with all the fervor of youth, had devoted every talent and energy +to the sacred cause. How he had loved him once! How proud and happy +he had been at his success! And here were words, his last thoughts on +earth, breathed from the very depths of his heart, and thrilling with +love for himself and this boy. They stirred the man's heart as it had +not been stirred before since that dreary afternoon when all the joy +and sunshine fled out of his heart and left it so cold and bitter. He +had not realized before that Brother Noll had really ended his +pilgrimage, and passed out of the earth, which, to himself, was such a +weary abiding-place. Now, with the last whispers of that dear heart +before him, the whole bitter sense of his loss came upon him, and he +covered his face, sighing heavily. Back came the remembrance of the +long and happy days of boyhood, with visions of the shining meadows +where they strayed together; with visions of careless, joyful hours, +when they sailed and fished and hunted the woods for purple grapes and +glossy nuts; with visions of those calmer days when they grew up to +manhood together,—Noll always bright and brave and loving, and a +check upon his own wilder spirits. Now he was gone; and all the years +to come could never again bring joy so deep and love so everlasting. +Yet, true and dear to the last, he had breathed his life out in one +sweet message to himself, confiding his love and this boy to him as a +precious legacy. Trafford almost groaned when he thought of his loss. +Oh, what a cruel thing was Death! A fierce, pitiless robber, seeking +for the loveliest and brightest, it had lain in wait, all his life +long, despoiling him of whatever he set his heart upon, he thought, +and leaving him wrecked and desolate. He had thought that no death or +sorrow could ever move him again; yet here was his heart aching as +wretchedly as ever. Was there no place in the wide, wide earth where +such wretchedness could not pursue? He had hoped to find it in this +wild and barren Rock; yet here sorrow had crept in, bitter and +poignant as in the busy city.</p> + +<p>Trafford rose from his chair, put away the message from out of his +sight, and sat down at his organ to still the pain in his heart with +the charm of its music.</p> + +<p>Noll had had his supper, and was sitting, sad and solitary, by Hagar's +fire in the kitchen. He would wait a little, he thought, before going +back to the library, that Uncle Richard might have time to read his +letter. He wondered what its contents could be, and wished and hoped +that papa had written some message there for himself. Would Uncle +Richard tell him if there were? he wondered. Then his thoughts went +back over the sea to Hastings, and there came up such pictures of the +dear old home there, and the faces of his school friends flocked +before him so vividly,—Ned Thorn's in particular,—that he could look +about him only through tears that he strove in vain to banish.</p> + +<p>Hagar had gone out with the candle, so the kitchen was quite dusk, +save where the fire flared scarlet light on the wall and ceiling. +Suddenly, in this silence, there stole in a heavy throbbing, like the +beating of a great, muffled heart, and with a slow and solemn +movement, rolled and swept in long chains of sound through the house, +till, at last, a clear, sweet, flutelike warble broke in and ran up +and down, seeming to wind in and out with the heavy undertone. Hagar +came in just then with her flaming candle, and began to rattle about +among her pots and kettles.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" Noll asked, quickly, as the strains kept stealing in +above the clatter which the old negress made. It had startled him at +first, coming so suddenly, and corresponding so well with the gloom +and mystery which seemed to fill the house.</p> + +<p>"Bress ye, honey!" said the black old figure, stooping over the +cooking utensils on the stone hearth, "don't ye know? Dat's Mas'r Dick +at his organ. He sits dar mos' times at ebenin', an' 'pears like I ken +jes' tell his feelin's by de music he makes. Sometimes I ken hear it +jes' as sad as nuffin ye ken think ob, an' sometimes it's singin' as +ef 'twas 'live and 'joicin.' It dun make ye homesick?" queried Hagar, +dropping her dishcloth and looking up into the boy's face.</p> + +<p>"No," Noll answered, with a sigh, "'tisn't the music. It will all be +gone in the morning, I guess," and tried to look his cheeriest.</p> + +<p>"You's tired out, chile," said Hagar, with ready sympathy; "better go +to bed. I's been makin' ye one in de room jes' side o' Mas'r Dick's. +Bes' room in de whole house!"</p> + +<p>The music had ceased, and Noll left his seat and went groping his way +along the dark, echoing hall, through the dimly-lighted dining-room to +the library-door. Entering, he found his uncle still seated before the +organ, but with his head bent forward upon the music-rack, and +apparently lost in deep thought, for he did not look up till Noll +stood beside him. Trafford made a faint attempt to smile, and asked,—</p> + +<p>"Could Hagar find you anything fit to eat? We can't live here as at +Hastings. The sea brings us our food."</p> + +<p>Noll said something about not being hungry, and presently Trafford +asked, with the stem and gloomy look upon his face,—</p> + +<p>"Did you know that Brother Noll, your father, did a very unwise thing +when he put you into my hands?"</p> + +<p>Noll started at the strangeness of the question, and the bright color +came into his face.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that papa did wrong?" he asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, so far as your good is concerned. I can be no companion for you. +You would have got more good anywhere else than here."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that, Uncle Richard!" Noll pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" Trafford queried, not unkindly; "it is the truth."</p> + +<p>"Papa said that you—you—" There was such a choking in Noll's throat +that he could get no further, and stopped, looking very much +distressed. Trafford took the boy's hand in his own.</p> + +<p>"My boy," he said, huskily, calling him by that title for the first +time, "I'm but a poor wreck at best. I can teach you no good, and God +knows I wouldn't be the means of putting a shadow of evil in your +heart. Your father says, 'Make him such a man, before God, as you know +I would have him.' He asked too much, Noll. Why, boy, I can't rule +myself." Noll said not a word. Uncle Richard was getting to be more of +a mystery to him than Culm Rock had been. "And," continued Trafford, +"we will leave the matter thus: you shall be at liberty, after the +first month, to go or stay, as you like. If you go, it shall be to +stay away forever; if you stay, it shall be at your own risk. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Uncle Richard."</p> + +<p>Trafford saw the boy's lips quiver again, and turned quickly away; the +face was so much like his dead brother's. Noll came to him pretty +soon, said "Good-night," and went away. Hagar guided the boy up to his +room, bidding him good-night with many assurances that "'tw'u'd be +pleasanter to-morrow, 'nough sight!" and left him to himself. The +stars shone brightly over the sea. Noll could not read his Bible +verses that night, for the familiar, precious gift of mamma was +locked in the trunk away round the shore at Culm; but he prayed with +all the stronger longing for the Saviour's pity and help; and then +from his bed by one of the great windows, lay listening to the moaning +of the tide below, which seemed the saddest, lonesomest sound he had +ever heard. And his heart ached too.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph14" id="glyph14"></a> +<img src="images/fig014.jpg" alt="glyph 14" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph15" id="glyph15"></a> +<img src="images/fig015.jpg" width="400" height="159" alt="glyph 15" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Culm Sights</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgw.jpg" alt="W" title="W" /></div><p>hen Noll awoke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly in. It +was not until after some long minutes of yawning and rubbing his eyes, +that he comprehended where he was; then, with some chills of +disappointment, he remembered, and bounded up to look out the window. +The sea lay rippling, cool and fresh below. Here and there faint +trails of mist floated and hovered over the waves, but the breeze was +fast tearing and blowing them away. With a feeling of delight, he saw +on the far horizon-line the white film of shadowy sails. It showed +that there was life and stir somewhere, he thought, and it was +pleasant to think of them as bound for far-off Hastings. Then he +remembered Skipper Ben and the "White Gull," and wondered when he +would return; and then Mr. Gray's note had not been written, he +recollected.</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Noll, "I'll find time for it to-day, I guess. I wonder +if my trunks will come this morning? and—When am I to begin my +studies, and who am I to recite to?" This last thought had not entered +his head before. There was evidently not a school of any kind upon +Culm Rock, and of course Uncle Richard was the only person capable of +teaching him anything. "I wonder if he will offer to teach me?" Noll +thought in perplexity, "or shall I have to ask him? I can't do that! +he's so cold and stern; and besides, I don't believe he would like the +trouble. I wonder if I am to grow up like those dull Culm people?" He +dressed himself, thinking busily enough of a dozen troublesome matters +which had already sprung up to puzzle him, and with these in his head, +went down-stairs. He found the dining-room at last, after getting into +three or four empty, unoccupied rooms, and there found Hagar putting +the last dishes upon the breakfast-table.</p> + +<p>"You's lookin' brighter, honey," said she, gleefully. "Didn't dis yer +ole woman tell ye so? Ki! I knowed how 'tw'u'd be las' night."</p> + +<p>"It <i>does</i> seem pleasanter," Noll admitted; "and where's Uncle +Richard?"</p> + +<p>"Mas'r Dick? He's in de libr'y; goin' to call him dis minnit. +Breakfas' dun waitin' for ye both, honey; an', bress de Lord! how much +ye looks like yer father dis mornin'!" and Hagar caressed the boy's +hair with her skinny old hands, muttering, as she gazed affectionately +in his face, "You's de bery picter ob him,—de bery picter!"</p> + +<p>So Richard Trafford thought as he answered the old housekeeper's call +and entered the dining-room where his nephew was waiting with a cheery +"Good-morning, Uncle Richard." The boy's sunshiny face, somehow, made +the great room brighter, Trafford thought, and Hagar bustled about and +poured the coffee with a lighter heart than she had had since leaving +her people at Hastings.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<a name="richardgrey" id="richardgrey"></a> +<img src="images/richardgrey.jpg" width="429" height="550" alt="Good morning, Uncle Richard" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h5>"Good morning, Uncle Richard"</h5> + +<p>"Jes' what's been lackin' de whole time!" she thought to herself; +"Mas'r Dick wants somethin' he ken love and talk to. 'Pears like +dar'll be a change in dis yer ole house afore long, de Lord willin'." +It was such a long time since the old negress had seen a young face, +or heard the pleasant accents of a young voice, that she made various +pretexts for lingering in the room while the two sat at the table, and +though it was for the most part a silent meal, yet it was a wonderful +pleasure to see Noll eat, Hagar thought. And when the two had left the +table and gone to the library, she soliloquized, "Nebber thought I'd +see a day like dis yer, agen! Wonder what Mas'r Dick t'inks o' de boy? +Bress de chile! if mas'r don't take to him, 'pears like he'll nebber +take to nuffin. Be like habbin' poor Mas'r Noll's face afore him de +whole time, an' ef he ken stan' <i>dat</i>, athought lubbin' him, I's +'feard he's dun got colder'n a stone, de whole ob him. You jes' wait +an' see, Hagar!"</p> + +<p>Noll followed his uncle from the breakfast-table into the library, +hoping that he would at once say something about his books or studies, +or at least hint what plans he had made concerning himself. It would +be a great deal pleasanter, Noll thought, to have Uncle Richard +dispose of him, even in a stern, cold way, than to do nothing at all +with him and remain indifferent as to whether he studied or grew up in +ignorance.</p> + +<p>But Trafford had relapsed into one of his gloomy, absent moods, and +took up a book as soon as he reached the library, without a look or +word for Noll. The boy stood by one of the great windows and looked +out on the sea, striving to drown his disappointment by thinking of +other matters. When he had tired of this, and found that +disappointment was long-lived, and would not be drowned, he loitered +by the bookcases, reading the titles, now and then peering into a +volume and looking over its top at his uncle, and thinking him a very +cold or else a very forgetful man. When he had made the tour of the +room several times, and was about to go out in despair, Trafford +looked up.</p> + +<p>"Noll, did you wish to speak to me?" he asked, abruptly.</p> + +<p>The question came upon Noll unawares.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if—if you were not too—too busy," he stammered. "I thought—I +hoped you would say something about my books—my studies, I mean, +Uncle Richard."</p> + +<p>"What about them?"</p> + +<p>"Why, whether I were to study with you, or by myself, or how; and +whether I am to begin now, or wait a while," said Noll, wishing that +his uncle would look less keenly at him.</p> + +<p>Trafford leaned his head upon his hand and reflected a little. At last +he said,—</p> + +<p>"You will wait, Noll, till your month is up. There would be no use in +beginning studies which, perchance, may end in so short a time. If, at +the end of four weeks, you conclude to stay, then we will talk about +study. Till then, you will wait."</p> + +<p>Noll's blue eyes said, as plainly as eyes could, "Don't mention that +month again, Uncle Richard!" but his tongue was silent, and he +acquiesced in this decision by a nod of his head.</p> + +<p>"You can fill up the time," continued his uncle, "as you like. You had +best make yourself acquainted with the Rock before you decide to stay +here. You will hardly explore it all in one day, I think;" and with +this Trafford turned again to his book.</p> + +<p>Noll found his hat and went out, determined to keep a brave heart if +Uncle Richard <i>was</i> cold and gloomy. If there was no other way, he +would <i>make</i> him love him, he thought, though how that was to be done +he had, as yet, but a very slight idea. He went through the +dining-room, and from thence found his way to the broad front piazza +which faced the sea, and where, the previous evening, he had stood so +lonely and homesick. Everything looked much cheerier to him now, and +he ran down the sand, in front of the house, to the water's edge, +resolved to see the bright side of everything which pertained to gray, +barren Culm. There were stranded shells and bright-hued weeds on the +wet, glittering sand, which made Noll's eyes sparkle with delight.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't Ned's eyes open to see these!" he thought, "and wouldn't the +dear old fellow like some for his museum! I'll gather a whole box full +and send them up by the skipper some day."</p> + +<p>Thinking of the skipper made Noll remember his trunks, and he wondered +if the "White Gull" had continued her voyage farther down the shore.</p> + +<p>"There's a whole month to explore and pick up shells in," he said to +himself, "and I'll take this forenoon to go around to the landing and +see the skipper, if he's there."</p> + +<p>With this thought, he started off, hoping to find the "Gull" still +lying off the little wharf. The skipper seemed almost like an old +friend, already; and, however rough he might be, he came from +Hastings, and this fact alone made the boy long for a sight of his +face. So he hastened along the sand, toward Culm, with an eye and ear +for everything which he passed. Great boulders, all green and fringed +with sea-weed, were strewn everywhere,—in the yellow sand of the +beach, in the line of the tide and waves which whitened themselves to +foam, and murmured hoarsely against them. In some places the great +mass of the rock came down so near the water's edge that only a +slender path of pebbles was left between it and the waves. In high +tide, Noll thought, this narrow way must be quite covered, and he +wondered why the sea did not carry it quite away. But in other places +the beach was broad and smooth, quite wide enough for many horsemen to +ride abreast. This morning the sea was peaceful and calm. Neither did +it look so vast and illimitable as on the previous night. The tide was +going out, stranding great quantities of glittering weeds and all +sorts of curious objects, the sight of which made Noll's heart glad; +but, without stopping to examine or preserve them, he hastened on, +hoping to soon catch sight of the "Gull." But in this he was +disappointed. No sooner had he passed the curve of the shore than he +saw that the skipper and his craft were gone. There were his trunks to +see to, however; so he kept on, though at a slower pace, wondering if +those dull-looking fishermen could tell him when the "Gull" would +return.</p> + +<p>Not half so fair or comely did the dozen houses look as in the gold of +sunset. Such racked, weather-beaten dwellings Noll had never seen +before. It was a mystery how they could ever stand in a high gale. Not +a solitary vestige of anything green was there to enliven the +barrenness. Long lines of seine were stretched upon stakes, and +dangled from the sides of boulders upon the shore. In the sand some +dirty-faced children were playing, who got up and ran away at his +approach. A little farther on he came upon two fishermen dividing a +basket of fish. They looked up, stared, and nodded respectfully.</p> + +<p>"When did the skipper go?" Noll asked, pausing.</p> + +<p>"Ben, ye mean?" asked one of the men, suspending his labor to take a +more leisurely survey of the questioner.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ben Tate," said Noll.</p> + +<p>"Afore sunrise," said the other. "Did ye want the skipper, lad?"</p> + +<p>"No, not particularly. When is he going to stop here again?"</p> + +<p>"Ben? Why, he comes Mondays and Thursdays, he does," said the +fisherman; "ye'll find him here day after to-morrow, lad,—early, too, +mos' like."</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me where he left my trunks?" queried Noll.</p> + +<p>At this question, the men looked perplexed. "Do ye mean boxes like?" +they asked, after a time.</p> + +<p>Noll was astonished at this lack of knowledge, but managed to explain +to the two what he meant.</p> + +<p>"Ye'd best go up to Dirk Sharp's," said one; "the skipper leaves much +with Dirk, he does, an' ye'll be like to find 'em there."</p> + +<p>"Back o' the wharf, lad,—back o' the wharf Dirk lives," the other +called to Noll, as he walked away.</p> + +<p>Dirk Sharp's house was rather smarter than the others,—at least, it +was in better repair; but the look which Noll caught of its interior, +as he stood rapping by the open door, sufficed to destroy any +anticipations of industry or thriftiness which he might have formed +from the dwelling's exterior. Dirk was a great broad-shouldered, +slouching fellow, with a general air of shiftlessness about him. At +Noll's summons, he came lounging out of an inner room, and, catching +sight of the boy, said,—</p> + +<p>"Lookin' for yer trunks, lad? The skipper said ye was to hev 'em las' +night, shore; but ye see," pulling up his sleeve, "as how I got a cut +what's hindered," displaying a long, bloody wound upon his arm. "Ye +sh'u'd ha' had 'em, lad, but for that, as the skipper said. But ef ye +ken wait till the men get back from their seinin'—Ho! there be Bob +an' Darby now," he exclaimed, as he spied the two whom Noll had just +passed.</p> + +<p>"Ahoy there, lads! here be a job fur ye!" he cried to the fishermen.</p> + +<p>The two left their work and came up to Dirk.</p> + +<p>"Here be two trunks to go 'roun' to the stone house fur this lad," +said he. "Ef ye'll shoulder 'em roun' the shore, yer welcome to what +the skipper left fur't. What ye say, lads?"</p> + +<p>"We'll do't fur ye, Dirk, seein' yer cut," said the one who was called +Darby. "Where be the boxes, man?"</p> + +<p>Dirk led them into the inner room, from whence they presently +emerged, each with a trunk on his shoulder, and, bending with their +burdens, started up the shore.</p> + +<p>Noll followed slowly after, wondering why they did not use their boat, +instead of enduring such back-breaking toil. It struck him that he had +never seen such dull, apathetic faces as these Culm people had. Such +utter shiftlessness as everything about the cluster of tumble-downs +betokened he had never imagined. Perhaps all this dreariness and +desolation made itself more keenly felt because the boy was just from +the city, which teemed with life and bustle and energy. In its poorest +quarter he had never seen such a lack of tidiness as the interior of +Dirk Sharp's house presented. He followed the slowly-plodding +trunk-bearers up the yellow sand, wondering if there was such another +wretched, desolate, and forlorn place as Culm Rock in the whole wide +earth.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph17" id="glyph17"></a> +<img src="images/fig017.jpg" alt="glyph 17" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph18" id="glyph18"></a> +<img src="images/fig018.jpg" width="400" height="157" alt="glyph 18" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">How the Month was spent</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>hey were a long time in getting to the stone house. Before they +passed the curve of the shore, the sun was well up in the sky and beat +down with fervid rays upon the sweating, toiling fishermen. Noll +rejoiced when the trunks were safely landed in his room at the top of +the stairs, and the men had taken their departure, each with a piece +of silver in addition to the skipper's fee. It seemed to him that +there was no bright side to the life over in those wretched Culm huts. +If there was, he could not see it. It puzzled and perplexed him to +imagine how human beings could live in such ignorance and apathy of +all that was transpiring about them; and the sights which he had seen +in the miserable, tumbledown village left a very disagreeable feeling +in his heart. Somehow, his hitherto blithe spirits were dampened by +this morning's walk, and he thought the great bare Rock would be a +great deal more endurable if the fish-huts and their inmates were only +off it. True, it would be much lonelier, but that was far more +endurable than the sight of such shiftlessness and ignorance. He +wondered if Uncle Richard ever went among them, and whether he really +knew what a degraded people they had got to be. If he did know, Noll +thought, it was very strange that he did not try to lift them up, +teach them something, or, at least, have a school opened for the +children. Papa, he thought, would have done something for them long +ago. There would have been a little schoolhouse and a teacher. A new +wharf, he was sure, would have taken the place of the rickety old +thing; and by degrees the women would have learned thrift and +neatness, and the men energy and industry. To be sure, it seemed a +great deal to do for such dull, apathetic people, who seemed not to +have a particle of energy and ambition about them; but papa, he +thought, could have done it, and <i>would</i> have done it, had he lived +here as long as Uncle Richard. He remembered a little sea-town, where +they had lived before dwelling in Hastings, how wretched and dirty and +ignorant the fishermen were, and what a great change for the better +came over the place through his father's efforts.</p> + +<p>But now papa was gone, and Uncle Richard? The man was so much of a +mystery to Noll, as yet, that he did not know whether there were any +hopes of his setting himself to the task of lifting the Culm people +out of their slough of wretchedness; but he hoped that his uncle would +see and realize what needed to be done before another year had worn +away. And if he did not? Why, then they would have to go on in their +old way, he thought. He wished that he might do something toward the +work; but, then, how could he? He had no money, and no means of +getting any, and he was not fifteen.</p> + +<p>Noll put away, or tried to do so, all thoughts of the Culm people and +their life, and went to writing the note which Skipper Ben was to +carry to Mr. Gray on his return to Hastings. When it was finished, ho +unlocked his trunk, took a look at the thumbed, worn little Bible +which had been mamma's; at the familiar covers of his school-books, +which brought up a hundred visions of pleasant, happy hours in the +great, buzzing schoolroom,—wondered if he should ever know such +joyful moments again,—it seemed quite an impossibility, now,—and +took up, one by one, the keepsakes and knick-knacks which his boy +friends had given him on his departure. There was the new ball which +Sam Scott had given him,—how Sam <i>did</i> love ball-playing!—and which +was now not of the least possible use to him. There was a great bundle +of fish-hooks which Archie Phillips had bestowed upon him, more in fun +than in earnest, but which Noll had treasured because Archie was his +seat-mate. Then there were all sorts of relics and mementos, such as +boys set their hearts upon,—bits of carved wood, favorite drawing +pencils, a purple amethyst, which Johnny Moore, whose father had been +in India, had given him, and, best of all, there was Ned Thorn's dear, +merry face beaming upon him from out the little ebony frame in which +Ned's own hands had placed it the night before his departure.</p> + +<p>Looking at this face, and gazing upon these mementos of his friends, +did not serve to make Noll at all more contented with Culm Rock and +the prospect before him, and, being presently made aware of this by +the heaviness which began to settle upon his heart, he closed the +trunks in great haste, and ran off.</p> + +<p>The day passed quickly enough, even for Noll, and was only the first +of many happy ones spent by the shore and on the rocks. The boy had a +taste for treasuring curiosities, and in the wonderful wealth of weed +and shell which the sea was continually throwing upon the sand, his +love of collecting and preserving was gratified. Every return of the +tide was a great sweeping in of the wonders and beauties of the sea to +add to his stores. There was always something new and strange to +excite his delight and admiration. Then, too, there were long hours +spent in climbing the rocks, till all its cliffs and hollows began to +grow familiar to the boy. He climbed to Wind Cliff, and from its top +looked down on the Culm houses on the sand, and into the gulls' nests +far below in the crevices of the rock, and enjoyed their wild wheeling +and screaming about him as he stood there. From this high look-out he +often stood looking upon such sunsets as he had never seen before. +High up toward the zenith the sun shot its great banners of flame as +it dipped in the sea, and made the vast expanse glow and glitter. In +the east the sails flitted along the purple line of the horizon, and +down in the dusk shadow of the Rock he could see the grim stone house +and the blue thread of smoke from Hagar's kitchen chimney. Sometimes +he made use of Archie Phillips' gift, and caught fish off the rocks, +much to the advantage of the old housekeeper's dinner-table.</p> + +<p>One week after another passed, and still there seemed plenty of +variety and amusement for every day. In one of his rambles, Noll came +upon a little cluster of graves, with the rudest of monuments to mark +them,—most of them were rough head-boards in which the sleeper's name +was cut or scratched,—and this sight of such poor, uncared-for +resting-places in the sand made him sad and thoughtful for more than +one day. What if he were to die and be buried there, too? he surmised. +The thought chilled him. True, he knew that heaven beyond was just as +bright and fair for all that the graves were so forlorn and dreary; +but the thought of lying far from all his friends, on bare and lonely +Culm Rock, oppressed him till new sights and adventures had somewhat +effaced the remembrance of the sight from his mind. Nearly one day was +spent in the pine woods, whose fragrance and sombre light, and the +deep hush reigning within, both awed and delighted him. Then there +were days of storm and mist which could only be spent in his chamber +or in the library.</p> + +<p>Uncle Richard was generally as silent and stern as ever, and sometimes +chilled the boy's heart with his coldness, and sometimes touched it by +his prolonged and heavy sadness. Noll found more ways than one to make +his affection known, and even when his uncle was stern almost to +harshness, found some excuse for his unkindness in his warm heart, +thinking that all would come right at last, and Uncle Richard lose his +coldness and be as kind and regardful as he could wish. Only once did +he lose his temper and rebel, and for this Noll repented heartily as +soon as it was done. He went into the library one afternoon and asked +permission to go around to Culm and climb up to the gulls' nests on +Wind Cliff. He had explored every nook of the Rock, and this was a +pleasure which he had reserved till the last, and, though not quite +confident of being successful in an attempt to scale the precipitous +cliff, yet he was eager and anxious enough to make the trial. Trafford +was in one of his gloomiest moods, and replied, sternly,—</p> + +<p>"You would like to break your neck, I suppose, sir, and give me the +pleasure of seeing you brought home bruised and bleeding! No, you +shall not go near Wind Cliff!"</p> + +<p>The angry color came into Noll's face in an instant. "I believe it +<i>would</i> be a pleasure for you to see me brought home with a broken +neck!" he cried, impetuously; "and oh, I wish I were back in Hastings, +where somebody cared for me!" And with this Noll hurried out of the +library, slamming the door behind him.</p> + +<p>Trafford heard these words with astonishment; then, as his nephew's +footsteps died away along the hall, he covered his face and sighed +heavily.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he thought, "I did it for his good; yet—the boy distrusts me. +He can't know what I would be to him if I could; how can he? He thinks +me cold and unloving, and—well, he has reason to."</p> + +<p>Hardly had ten minutes elapsed before the door swung softly open, and +Noll re-entered. Trafford did not look up, did not hear him, in fact, +and presently was startled by a voice saying, brokenly,—</p> + +<p>"Uncle Richard!"</p> + +<p>Then he looked up. Noll stood before him with downcast eyes and a +trembling lip.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Trafford, speaking neither with coldness nor yet with +kindness.</p> + +<p>"I—I—I didn't mean what I said a few minutes ago, Uncle Richard," +said Noll, chokingly; "there was not a word of truth in it, and I +oughtn't to have said such a thing."</p> + +<p>A deep silence followed, broken at last by another "Well?" from +Trafford's lips.</p> + +<p>"Will you forgive me, Uncle Richard? I was angry then, and I <i>don't</i> +wish I was back at Hastings," said Noll, grieved, and fearful lest he +had only put a wider gulf between himself and his uncle.</p> + +<p>Trafford was silent so long that the boy ventured to raise his eyes. +To his surprise and astonishment, his uncle was regarding him with +eyes that were neither cold nor stern, but almost tender and yearning.</p> + +<p>"Oh! do you forgive me?" Noll cried, taking hope.</p> + +<p>Trafford laid his hand on his nephew's fair, curly hair, stroking it +gently as he had once before done on the boy's arrival.</p> + +<p>"You need not ask that, Noll," he said. "Go where you will,—I can +trust you."</p> + +<p>"But I'll not go to Wind Cliff?" said Noll, "and I wish—you don't +know how much, Uncle Richard!—that I could take back those words."</p> + +<p>"There is no need," said his uncle. "Go where you will."</p> + +<p>Noll took his departure, more confident than ever that under Uncle +Richard's coldness and seeming indifference there lurked love and +regard for himself, and, true to his word, gave up all idea of +ascending the cliff.</p> + +<p>As for Trafford, though outwardly stern and cold as ever, his heart +went out to the boy more yearningly after that. The month was drawing +near its close, and in spite of himself, he could not regard the +approaching day on which Noll's decision was to be made without some +forebodings. Yet, lest the boy should be influenced by perceiving that +his uncle wished his presence, Trafford was gloomier and more +forbidding than ever, those last days. The boy should be perfectly +free to make his choice, he thought; he would use no influence to +change or bias his decision in any manner.</p> + +<p>"Everything I have set my heart upon has been snatched away by death," +he said to himself; "Noll shall stay only because it is his choice. +Never will I, by look or voice, influence him to share my life and +loneliness. If he stays, and I love him as my own, just so surely will +death snatch him away."</p> + +<p>But that the boy was a great comfort and delight to him he could not +but confess to himself. He was surprised to find how, in those few +short weeks, his cheery presence had won upon his heart. He watched +him from the window as he walked on the sand below, searching for sea +treasures, and could not endure the thought of having the boyish +figure gone forever out of his sight. Neither could he think of the +loneliness and silence which would settle down upon the old house +when the gladsome voice and quick footsteps were gone, without a sigh. +Now it was a great pleasure to go out to the tea-table at evening and +find Noll, fresh and ruddy from his ramble on the shore and rocks, +awaiting him one side the table with his grave and yet merry face. How +would it be when he was gone? It were a great deal better, Trafford +thought, that the boy had never come to brighten the old house with +sunshine for a brief space, if now he went and left it darker and +gloomier than before. And would he go? He should be left to choose for +himself, the uncle thought, though the decision proved an unfavorable +one.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph20" id="glyph20"></a> +<img src="images/fig020.jpg" alt="glyph 20" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Noll's Decision</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgn.jpg" alt="N" title="N" /></div><p>oll stayed. The day on which the decision was to be made he came into +the library, where Trafford sat, saying, gravely, "Uncle Richard, +to-day I was to choose, you know; and I would rather stay at Culm Rock +and be your boy than to go back. May I?"</p> + +<p>"May you?" exclaimed Trafford, on the impulse of the moment, while +even his heavy heart was glad. "How can you ask that? Oh, Noll! do +you know what you are doing?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure, Uncle Richard! I'm going to stay with you," replied Noll, +without any shadow of regret in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ah, boy, I fear you will rue it," said his uncle, shaking his head +mournfully; "remember, whatever befalls, that I did not bid you +stay,—it was at your own risk."</p> + +<p>"Why, what do you mean?" Noll asked, with a puzzled face,—"what is to +befall me, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>"I know not,—I know not," Trafford answered; "there may be nothing to +harm you; yet death ever snatches all that is dear to me, and I +tremble for you, my boy."</p> + +<p>Noll looked grave and puzzled still. "I don't understand, Uncle +Richard," he said.</p> + +<p>"No; how can you?" his uncle said, after a pause. "To <i>you</i>, death is +only God's hand; to me, it—oh, Noll, I cannot tell you what it is! I +don't wish to shock you, boy, but I'm a long way from where your +father was when he penned me that calm note,—lying in the very arms +of death at the moment." Noll was silent. "Yes," continued Trafford, +"for me there is no brightness beyond the depths of the grave. All is +dark,—dark! and so many of my friends have vanished in it,—so many +have been lost to me there! Ah, my hope was all wrecked long ago!"</p> + +<p>Noll looked up quickly, with, "Papa lost to you, to me, Uncle Richard? +Oh, that is not true at all! Papa <i>lost</i> to us?"</p> + +<p>"Not to you, not to you, Noll, thank God!" Trafford replied; "but to +me,—yes! His faith he left to you,—I can see, I feel it; but I have +none."</p> + +<p>Noll looked up to the sad-eyed, gloomy man, and fathomed the mystery +of his sorrow at once. Who would not be forever sad with nothing +beyond the grave but blank and darkness in which loved hearts were +alway vanishing?</p> + +<p>"Oh, Uncle Richard," said he, "I'm sorry for you!"</p> + +<p>"I don't deserve it," Trafford said, with unusual tenderness. "How can +you love such a man as myself? Oh, my boy, I've been harsh with you, +and cold and stern; go where you'll find some one that can care for +you better than I!"</p> + +<p>But Noll's face suddenly grew bright. "I wouldn't do that," he said, +earnestly,—"never, Uncle Richard! Papa said I was to live with you +and love you, and I <i>will</i>, unless you wish me to go. And if you do +not, don't tell me to leave you again!"</p> + +<p>"I will not, Noll," Trafford said.</p> + +<p>So it was all settled, at last, and Noll's heart—in spite of Uncle +Richard's gloominess—was light and glad. He would stay and see if the +man's sorrow and wretchedness could not be driven away, he thought; +perhaps—who could tell?—he would lose his sternness, and become kind +and regardful, and follow in the path which papa had trod. It all +seemed very doubtful now, it was true, but such a thing <i>might</i> be, +after a time.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Noll, as he thought of these things, "I would much rather +stay with you, Uncle Richard—always. And now shall we talk about +studies?"</p> + +<p>"True, we were to consider that matter," said his uncle; "yet I had +little hope that you would stay, then. What do you study, Noll?"</p> + +<p>"At Hastings I had arithmetic and geography and Latin. Then with papa +I studied history, and a little—a very little, Uncle Richard—in +mineralogy,—he liked that so, you know."</p> + +<p>"And what do you propose to do here?" asked his uncle.</p> + +<p>"I would like to do just the same," said Noll, "and keep up with my +class, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"He has still some thoughts of returning?" Trafford wondered; then +said aloud, "Well, it shall be as you like. And when will you +commence?"</p> + +<p>"At once, if you please, Uncle Richard. I've had such a long vacation +that it will seem good to get back to books once more; they're all +waiting for me up-stairs. Shall I get them?"</p> + +<p>Noll bounded away as his uncle nodded assent, and went up-stairs with +a merry whistle. Trafford listened to the quick footsteps and the +light-hearted music, and really rejoiced that they were not to flee +and leave the old house desolate. It would be a brighter dwelling than +it had been till—till death came, he thought. And if he could not +teach the boy as Brother Noll had desired him to do, yet he would see +that in the matter of books and study he had every advantage. So, when +the boy came down with his arms full of books, he set himself to his +task with an earnestness that pleased Noll wonderfully.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Richard means that I shall progress," he thought; "and oh, I +<i>do</i> hope I can keep up with Ned and the rest!"</p> + +<p>Trafford found his nephew an apt scholar. He had expected that, +however, for the boy came of a book-loving race. Very likely, had the +pupil proved but a dull one, he would sometimes have wearied of his +task of hearing the recitations every day; but as it was, he found a +positive pleasure in his capacity as Noll's instructor, and generally +a relief from his gloominess.</p> + +<p>Noll's study-hours were at his own discretion; the recitations came in +the afternoon, and after four the boy had the remainder of the day to +spend as he liked. Sometimes the shore claimed him, sometimes the +rocks. Then there were excursions, in company with old Hagar, to the +solitude of the pines, after cones and dry, resinous branches for the +kitchen fire, which never seemed to burn well unless the old +housekeeper had an abundance of this kindling material.</p> + +<p>"Nuffin like dem yer pine cones fur winter mornin's," Hagar always +said; and many were the visits which she and "Mas'r Noll" paid to the +woods, returning with laden baskets.</p> + +<p>Somehow, after a time, the boy found more delight in these simple +pleasures than at first. Once, with all his friends about him, he +would have found no entertainment in a journey into the forest after +cones,—there were other delights in abundance, then; but now, forced +to get all his enjoyment out of the simplest, humblest events, this +work of gathering winter fuel grew to be a positive pleasure, after +the recitations were over, and the short October days drawing to a +close. Then, too, the winter stores were being brought down from +Hastings on the "Gull," and Skipper Ben and his crew came often to the +stone house, to break the monotony of days in some little manner.</p> + +<p>"Yer 'live an' hearty yet, lad!" was his greeting as he came around in +the "Gull's" boat with a variety of provisions for winter use, one +cloudy afternoon. "Well, I mus' say I didn't think to find ye so? +Lonesome any? Goin' to let me carry ye back to Hastings afore the +'Gull' stops runnin'?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Noll, bravely, "I'm going to stay, skipper."</p> + +<p>"Ye'll find the weather a tough un, bime-by," drawled Mr. Snape, as he +rolled a flour-barrel up the sand.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the skipper, "winters are mos'ly hard uns down here. An' +what ye goin' to do when the 'Gull' stops cruisin' fur the season, an' +ye can't get a word frum the city?"</p> + +<p>This was a contingency for which Noll had made no calculation. Not +hear a word from Hastings for a whole long winter?</p> + +<p>"Well," he said at last, "that isn't pleasant to think of, but I'll +manage somehow, skipper. And you must bring me a great packet of +letters to last till the 'Gull' commences her trips again."</p> + +<p>"Ay, lad," said the skipper, his eyes twinkling. "What be these?" +drawing a parcel from under his pea-jacket.</p> + +<p>Noll's eager "Letters! and for me?" tickled the old sailor +wonderfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, these be letters," he said, chuckling; "Jack, here, talks o' +runnin' a smack down this winter purpose to bring yer mail!"</p> + +<p>"'Tw'u'd take something bigger'n a smack," observed Mr. Snape, looking +askance to see how Noll grasped the precious parcel.</p> + +<p>"All yer frien's said as how I was to bring ye back on the 'Gull,'" +called the skipper after him, as Noll went running across the sand +toward the house.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how I wish—No! I can't go, skipper; it's no use talking," Noll +answered back as he gained the piazza, and there sat down to open his +precious missives.</p> + +<p>Five or six of his boy friends had agreed to surprise him each with a +letter, and here they were, together with a kind note from Mr. Gray. +What a comfort and pleasure they were! It was almost like seeing the +writers' faces and talking with them, Noll thought.</p> + +<p>Trafford came out upon the piazza while he sat there absorbed in their +contents, and as he walked along toward the skipper, who stood waiting +at the bottom of the steps, noted the boy's eager, delighted face, and +wondered why the lad did not return to his friends, where, it was +quite evident, he was much desired and longed for. Why did he stay on +this dreary Rock? What was there here to make the place endurable for +a boy of his age and tastes? He could not see.</p> + +<p>Those were the last letters which Noll received. The "Gull" made one +or two trips after that, but the first of November brought keen, +sleety weather, and Skipper Ben came no more; so that for the long +months ahead Culm Rock was to be shut out from the world entirely. The +thought of being isolated from all assistance, in case of illness or +trouble, oppressed Noll somewhat till he had accustomed himself to the +thought, and then a vague dread of loneliness and homesickness in the +dragging days of winter haunted him for a time. But getting bravely +over these, and interested in his studies, he began to find that the +November days were not so intolerable, after all.</p> + +<p>Uncle Richard had surprised him one day by bringing in a +writing-table, from one of the unoccupied rooms, and placing it +opposite his own chair by one of the tall windows. "For your books, +Noll," he had said; and from thenceforth the boy's well-worn school +volumes had a place there, and study in the cold chamber was exchanged +for the comfortable warmth of the library. It was not an unpleasant +schoolroom, by any means, though the high, old window framed nothing +but a great stretch of sea and sky,—both, this chilly month of +November, often gray and misty.</p> + +<p>Instead of the roar and din of the city which sounded about the +dearly-remembered room at Hastings, there was the hoarse murmur of the +tide on its rocks and pebbles, the wild whirling of the wind and its +screaming around the corners and over the chimney,—not cheery sounds, +any of them; yet, in the still afternoons, and the cozy quietness of +long evenings when the lamp shed its mild light over the room, and the +fire on the hearth shone redly, there was such calm and peace for +books and study as Noll found both pleasant and profitable.</p> + +<p>In these days, you may be sure, the boy's thoughts were often across +the vast gray sea in front of his window, even when he was bending +over his problems or translations; not that he regretted his decision +to share Uncle Richard's life with him, nor that he had any thoughts +of fleeing away, but those flitting sails on the far horizon were +messengers which alway bore on their white wings thoughts of hope and +love and patience to those over the sea.</p> + +<p>It was not the natural sphere of a boy,—this monotonous, unvarying +round of days, with no companions of his age or tastes; and, as week +after week passed, and Noll was still blithe and apparently contented, +Trafford wondered and conjectured, and could not surmise a reason for +it; though, had he observed closely, it would not have been a great +mystery. For Noll there was the unfailing comfort of the little Bible +which lay beside the huge old bed up-stairs, and which gave the double +comfort of its own blessedness and the remembrance of its preciousness +to her who turned its pages to the last; and there were ever the +pitying ears of Jesus ready to hear the story of discouragement and +loneliness, when the burden of slow, weary days seemed <i>too</i> heavy to +bear.</p> + +<p>Into Trafford's life had come more brightness and content than he had +known since that dark day when his wife left him and vanished in the +darkness which, to his eyes, filled and hovered over the grave. It did +not, as yet, seem like a real and lasting joy; he trembled lest some +day it should prove but a dream, a vision, and so vanish. He often +laid aside his book and looked up, half expecting to find the room as +silent and lonely as when, of old, he was the only inhabitant of the +great library; but there, at the opposite window, sat the pleasant +figure of the boy, busy with his books, and as real and tangible as +heart could wish. It was a perpetual delight, though he hid all +knowledge of it from Noll, to feel that the boy was present, to see +him curled up in a great chair by the fire, watching the flames or the +depths of rosy coal, of a twilight, and to feel that he was <i>his</i>,—a +precious gift to love and cherish. So the man's heart began to go out +toward the boy,—tremblingly, warningly at first, then, as he found +him true and worthy, with all its might and all the fervor of which it +was capable.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph22" id="glyph22"></a> +<img src="images/fig022.jpg" alt="glyph 22" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Dirk's Trouble</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgn.jpg" alt="N" title="N" /></div><p>oll closed his books one afternoon after recitations, saying, "I'll +put on my overcoat, Uncle Richard, and take a run up the shore,—just +for exercise. The waves are monstrous, and how they thunder! I haven't +seen them so large since I came to Culm."</p> + +<p>"Look out for the tide," continued his Uncle; "keep away from that +narrow strip of sand up the shore, for the waves will cover it in an +hour."</p> + +<p>Noll promised to be cautious, and ran off after cap and overcoat. +Hagar met him as he came down from his room all muffled for the walk, +and exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Bress ye, honey! where ye bound fur now? Dis yer is a drefful bad +time on de shore! I's 'feard to hev ye roun' dar!" looking at him +anxiously.</p> + +<p>Noll laughed merrily. "Do you think I'm too small to take care of +myself, Hagar?" he asked; "I'm only going for a walk, and to see the +waves. I'll be back for supper with Uncle Richard."</p> + +<p>The sky was wild and gray with clouds. A keen, chilly wind swept +fiercely over the rocks and along the shore, and the dark, +foam-fringed waves rode grandly in upon the beach with a thunderous +shock as they flew into spray. Some of the spray mist wet Noll's face, +even as he stood upon the piazza steps. But, warmly clad, and loving +the sight of the wild tumult, he started with a light heart for his +walk up the shore. As far as he could see, the sea was dark and +gloomy, with long curves of foam whitening its surface and gleaming on +the crests of its racing waves. At his feet, on the sand, lay great +tangles of kelp and flecks of yeasty froth. The air was keen, and +frosty enough to film the still pools in the hollows with brittle ice, +and where the spray fell upon the rocks, it congealed and cased the +old boulders with glittering mail. Not a sail was there in sight, and +Noll thought the sea had never looked so vast and lonely as now. Along +the horizon the clouds were white-edged, and seemed to open and lead +away into illimitable distances of vapor. He stopped under the shelter +of a rock to look behind him, over the path which he had trodden. The +stone house looked dark and forbidding, like everything else under +this wild gray sky; but Noll had long ago ceased to consider it as +resembling a prison. It was home, now, and so took a fairer, brighter +shape in his eyes. Beyond, the pines stood up against the sky, full of +sombreness and inky shadow.</p> + +<p>"How cold and desolate everything is!" thought Noll; "but it's not +half so gloomy as it seems, after all. I wish, though, that Ned—dear +fellow!—was here, just to make it lively once in a while." He walked +on, listening to the heavy thunder of waves, and looking upon the +troubled waste of sea, till he came to the curve of the shore. Here +lay the narrow path of pebbles against which his uncle had warned him. +But there seemed no immediate danger, for the path looked as wide as +ever, and as there was yet an hour before the tide would be in, Noll +hurried across, the salt spray flying wildly about him.</p> + +<p>"I'll go on a little further," he thought, "and I shall get home long +enough before tea-time, then."</p> + +<p>Having gone a little way, however, he chanced to remember that he had +not been at Culm village for a month, at least, and longed to take a +run down to the little cluster of houses.</p> + +<p>"How the waves will dash in there!" he thought; "and I wonder how +those huts stand such a tempest as this? I've a good mind to go, +anyhow,—it's such a good chance to see the place in a gale." He +wavered and walked hesitatingly about in the sand for a few minutes, +and at last decided to go. He ran and walked by turns, the wind +blowing his curly locks in his eyes and taking his breath almost away +with its fierce gusts; yet he kept on. It seemed as if the waves +jarred and thundered heavier on this Culm side than on his own quarter +of the Rock; at any rate, the wind was more powerful, and blew the +spray upon him in showers.</p> + +<p>"I'll get drenched, if the wind keeps on like this!" he thought; "if I +weren't so near, I'd turn back; but the houses are in sight, already, +and I've got to get acquainted with salt water. I'll keep on!"</p> + +<p>When he drew near the little settlement, he was tired enough with +running and battling the wind, and was content to take a slower pace. +Never had the fishermen's huts looked so forlorn and miserable as now. +Noll half expected to see them come tumbling and rolling along the +sand in every gust of wind which struck them; yet, with some +mysterious attraction to their sandy foundations, they held their own, +though some of them creaked and groaned with the strain which was +brought to bear upon their timbers.</p> + +<p>The boy kept on toward the little wharf, over which the waves rolled +and tumbled furiously, without meeting a soul. The water dashed so +high and wildly up the sand that he was obliged to keep well up beside +the houses to escape a drenching. He thought he had never looked upon +so grand a sight as the sea presented here,—all its vast waste +lashed into great waves that came roaring in like white-maned monsters +to dash themselves upon the laud.</p> + +<p>Standing here, close by Dirk Sharp's door, Noll suddenly fancied he +heard a faint wail within. He was not at all sure, the sea thundered +so, and the wind screamed so shrilly about the miserable dwelling; but +presently, in a slight lull of the tempest, he heard the wail—if wail +it was—again. It sounded like the voice of a child,—a child +suffering illness or pain.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Dirk has any little ones?" thought Noll; "and what can he +do with them, if they are ill?"</p> + +<p>Mentally hoping that his ears had deceived him, and that no one on the +desolate Rock stood in need of aid which they could not have, he was +about to turn away and retrace his steps homeward, as the sky seemed +to shut down grayer and darker than before, and nightfall was +approaching. But at that instant the door of the dwelling opened, and +out came Dirk, beating his breast and crying aloud, whether with pain +or grief Noll was too surprised to notice at first.</p> + +<p>The man failed to see the lad standing close by his door-step till he +had taken several strides up and down the sand, where the wind blew +the spray full upon him,—walking there hatless and coatless. When he +did perceive him, he stopped short, exclaiming, almost fiercely,—</p> + +<p>"What <i>ye</i> here fur, lad?—what ye here fur? The Lord knows it's no +place fur the sort ye b'long to!"</p> + +<p>"I was looking at the sea," said Noll; "and—and—what's the matter, +Dirk?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' that'll do ye any good ter know!" cried Dirk, roughly, +beginning to pace up and down the sand again. "Ye can't know nothin' +o' trouble, lad! How ken ye?"</p> + +<p>Noll hardly knew what answer to make to this vehement question, and +finally made none at all, but asked,—</p> + +<p>"Are any of your family ill, Dirk?"</p> + +<p>"Ill? Sick, ye mean? O Lord! yes, yes,—and dyin'!"</p> + +<p>Noll started. Some one ill and dying on this dreary, wretched Rock! +and no doctor to give aid. He did not know how far he might dare to +interrogate Dirk in his present half-frenzied condition, but ventured, +after a minute or two of silence, to ask,—</p> + +<p>"Is it one of the children?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my little gal!" said Dirk, groaning,—"my little gal it is, an' +nothin' to keep her frum it. O Lord! seems as ef I sh'u'd go mad!" and +he threw up his hands to the lowering sky in despair, and faced about +to the sea, letting the cold drops drive into his face.</p> + +<p>Noll was fain to comfort him, but was at a loss how to offer +consolation to such anguish as Dirk's.</p> + +<p>"Isn't there some one on the Rock that can help, that knows something +about medicine?" he asked, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"No, no, lad!" Dirk cried, "there ain't a soul this side o' the sea +ken help my little gal! Ye don' know nothin' o' trouble, lad! Ye don' +know what 'tis ter feel that yer chile's dyin' fur want o' somethin' +to save it! O Lord! seems as ef I c'u'd swim through this sea to +Hastings fur my little gal!"</p> + +<p>He rushed down to the boiling surf, and Noll half expected to see him +throw himself into the sea; but he came back, drenched with a great +wave, with despair and agony upon his face.</p> + +<p>"Here, lad," he exclaimed, "come in,—come in an' see what trouble is! +Ye don' know. How ken ye?"</p> + +<p>Noll followed, and Dirk pushed open the door of his dwelling. The air +which met the boy as he entered the small, low room was so close and +foul that he almost staggered back. The floor was bare, and through a +crack under the door the keen wind swept in across it, flaring the +fire on the stone hearth and puffing ashes and smoke about. A fishy +odor was upon everything. Household utensils were scattered about in +front of the hearth, occupying a quarter of the room, and what few +chairs and other articles of wooden furniture there were, were fairly +black with dirt and smoke. Noll had never before entered a dwelling so +filthy, wretched, and miserable as this.</p> + +<p>"Here, lad," said Dirk, brokenly,—"here—be—the—little gal," and +pointed to one corner, where, watched over by a thin, slovenly woman, +the child lay on its little bed.</p> + +<p>The mother did not take her eyes off the girl, and Noll went forward, +with much inward repugnance, to look upon Dirk's treasure. The child's +cheeks were flushed a bright red, and it lay with drowsy, heavy-lidded +eyes, uttering, at intervals, a low wail.</p> + +<p>Noll shivered, and involuntarily thought of those dreary, desolate +graves which he stumbled upon in one of his rambles. Could nothing be +done? Must the child die for lack of a little medicine? He looked +through the little dirt-crusted window upon the tossing sea, and saw +what a hopeless barrier it interposed between them and aid. He thought +of Uncle Richard, and knew that it was useless to expect aid from that +direction; and then he thought of <i>Hagar</i>! She was a good nurse, he +remembered, and knew—or claimed to know—a vast deal about +medicine. Perhaps she could help this child! he thought, with a glad +heart, and if she could! His heart suddenly sank, for he remembered +that the old housekeeper could not make a journey through the storm +and tempest, even had she the necessary skill.</p> + +<p>"But," he thought to himself, "I can tell her about the child,—it's +got a fever,—and she can send medicines; and to-morrow, if it's +pleasant, she can come herself!" and thinking thus, Noll turned to +Dirk, with—</p> + +<p>"I can get you some medicines, I think, from our old housekeeper. May +I? Shall I try?"</p> + +<p>The fisherman was silent with surprise. He would probably have sooner +expected aid from across the raging sea than from this lad.</p> + +<p>Noll read an answer in his eyes, and hastened to the door, and bounded +away without waiting for any more words or explanations.</p> + +<p>How fast it had grown dark while he was in Dirk's hut! The horizon was +quite hidden, so was all the wide waste a half-mile from shore; but +with the coming of night the sea had lost none of its thunder, nor +the wind aught of its fierceness. Noll ran till he was out of breath. +Then he walked, thinking that the homeward path was wonderfully long. +Then he ran again, feeling almost as if the child's life depended upon +his exertions, and seeming to hear its wail above all the din of wind +and waves.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he plashed into the water, up to his ankles, and this brought +his headlong race to an abrupt termination. What could it mean? Then +he remembered, with a sudden chill, what, in his eagerness and +anxiety, he had entirely forgotten,—the tide was coming in, and was +already over the path which Uncle Richard warned him against.</p> + +<p>He looked back. The beach over which he had come glimmered faintly in +the dusk, with its long line of breakers gleaming far up and down. +Back there in the darkness, he thought, Dirk's child was dying for +want of medicine. Oh! what to do? He looked down at the foam creeping +about his ankles, and said to himself,—</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! it's only over shoe, now, and my feet are wet already. I'll +dash through; 'twon't take but three minutes, and I <i>can't</i> wait!"</p> + +<p>He sprang on, thinking to clear the short strip, which the tide had +covered, with a few bounds. A wave, high and broad, which had been +gathering power and volume in all its long, onward course, came +sweeping thunderingly in and engulfed him.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph52" id="glyph52"></a> +<img src="images/fig005.jpg" alt="glyph 5" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">In the Sea</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgn.jpg" alt="N" title="N" /></div><p>oll's presence of mind enabled him to clutch the jagged sides of the +rock desperately, so that in the wave's return he was not drawn with +it into the sea depths. Stunned, strangled, half blinded, and impelled +by a sudden horror of death in the cold, treacherous sea, he took two +or three forward steps, fell, then rose and strove to struggle on. +But a little hollow in the path let him down into the flood to his +waist. The spray flew into his eyes and mouth, and breathless and +bewildered he fell again, this time to disappear under the +foam-flecked water. He struggled up to air and life at last, with many +gasps for breath, and once more clutched at the rocks behind him. It +all seemed like the terror of a dream, not real and threatening. Was +he to be drowned? Some sudden thought of the pleasantness of life, of +dear friends across this same cruel, ravenous sea, of Uncle Richard +and his warning, came to him here. To be drowned in this dark, chill, +raging flood? Oh! no, no! Then he saw, out in the gloom and mistiness, +the white gleaming of a wave-crest, rising and sinking, but sweeping +steadily toward him, and knew that it would dash upon his narrow +foothold. Could he survive another?</p> + +<p>Then from Noll's lips came a shrill cry, which rose above the thunder +and battering of the sea; and, whether from terror or whether from the +fact that the dear name was so warm and vivid in his heart at that +moment, the cry was not "Help!" but, "Papa, papa!"</p> + +<p>The cry was answered!—at least, Noll fancied it was, and clung to the +jagged edges of rock with a new love of life in his heart, and, with +his eyes on the approaching wave, which began to loom up dark and +vast, cried out again with all his might.</p> + +<p>Out of the darkness which hovered over his submerged path beyond, a +figure came struggling,—battling the water and making desperate +efforts to run,—crying,—</p> + +<p>"Noll, Noll! where are you?"</p> + +<p>"Here,—Uncle Richard,—quick!" answered the boy, clinging desperately +to his only refuge,—the slippery, icy rocks.</p> + +<p>The wave came thunderingly in, burst, and hid uncle and nephew from +each other. Trafford uttered a groan of despair, and stood, for an +instant, like one palsied. Back swept the flood, leaving the sand bare +for a minute, and with a shout, the master of the stone house rushed +forward, seized the figure which had fallen there, and sprang away +toward the sand and safety. He gained it, and tremblingly laid his +burden down. Had he only saved a body from which the life had flown?</p> + +<p>"Oh, Noll!" he cried, brokenly,—"Noll, Noll!"</p> + +<p>Only the sea and the wailing of the wind answered him. Hurriedly +gathering the boy in his arms, he started for the house, running and +stumbling through the sand and over the rocks, fearful lest he should +reach its warmth and shelter too late. But before he had gained half +the distance between him and the redly-gleaming window, where he knew +Hagar was sitting before her fire, Noll stirred in his arms. Trafford +stopped, fearing that his excited imagination had deceived him.</p> + +<p>"Noll," he cried, "speak to me,—speak!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—only—I'm—I'm so cold," chattered Noll, faintly; "and—Uncle +Richard—you—you've saved me!"</p> + +<p>Trafford could not speak, so great was the load which had suddenly +lifted from his heart. He started on with his burden, though Noll +protested against being carried, and at every step rejoiced within +himself. What cared he for the thunder of the sea, the wind's +screaming, and the terror of death which they boded? <i>His</i> treasure +was safe, safe!—torn from the very yawning mouth of the deep, and +what were wreck and disaster of others to him? He came to the little +kitchen, presently, the light from its one window toward the shore +beaming cheerily upon him, and threw open the door and entered so +suddenly that Hagar screamed out with affright.</p> + +<p>"De good Lord help us now!" she cried at the sight of the master and +his burden. "What's happened, Mas'r Dick?"</p> + +<p>Noll answered, assuringly, "Nothing very serious, Hagar. I've been +in—the sea. Oh, Uncle Richard! how did you find me?"</p> + +<p>Trafford set his burden down upon the three-legged stool which Hagar +had just vacated, saying,—</p> + +<p>"I was looking for you, Noll, and heard your cry. O Heaven! what if I +had failed to hear it!"</p> + +<p>"I should have been swept away," said Noll.</p> + +<p>Here Hagar recovered her wits sufficiently to give a little howl of +lamentation.</p> + +<p>"Out ob de sea! out ob de sea!" she cried; "de Lord he t'anked fur it! +Dat yer sea am a drefful t'ing, honey,—allers swallerin', swallerin', +an' nebber ken get 'nough fur itself, nohow. Hagar's seen it; she +knows what dat yer sea is, an' t'ank de Lord, he's let ye come out of +it alive. Mas'r Dick, why don't ye t'ank Him fur savin' ob yer boy fur +ye?"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Trafford, his face growing gloomy; "find Noll some dry +clothes, Hagar. Quick, woman!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in a minnit, Mas'r Dick; quick's I ken git dis yer ole candle +lit. But ef ye don't t'ank de Lord now, ye'll have to come to it 'fore +long, Mas'r Dick; Hagar tells ye so! dat yer time'll come! it'll +come!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Trafford, harshly, "and do as I bade you."</p> + +<p>Hagar went out, sighing, "Dat time'll come, dat time'll come, bress de +Lord!"</p> + +<p>Noll looked up from his seat by the fire, where he sat dripping and +shivering, and said,—</p> + +<p>"But aren't you glad I'm safe, Uncle Richard?—aren't you thankful?"</p> + +<p>Trafford answered this question with a look which made his nephew +exclaim,—</p> + +<p>"I know you are, Uncle Richard! Then why—why—aren't you thankful to +God?"</p> + +<p>"Don't, don't, Noll!" said his uncle. "Strip off those wet garments +and make haste to get warm again. Culm Rock is no place for one to be +sick in. Hurry, boy?"</p> + +<p>Instead of hurrying, however, Noll suddenly grew very grave and +exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've forgotten something, Uncle Richard! That tide drove it all +out of my head. What can I do? Dirk Sharp's little girl is +sick—dying, and I was to bring her some medicine, if Hagar had any!"</p> + +<p>"What is Dirk or his to you?" exclaimed Trafford. "Was that what kept +you so late? Is that how you came to be caught by the tide?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Noll, "I—"</p> + +<p>His uncle interrupted him with a stern, "Noll, you reckless lad! What +are those Culm people to us,—to me? You put your life in peril—oh, +I tremble to think <i>what</i> peril!—for Dirk's miserable child? What +were you thinking of? Have you no regard for your life,—for my +happiness?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said Noll, quickly, "Dirk loves his child as well as you love +me, and I thought perhaps Hagar's medicines could help it, and I +didn't know there was any peril till I got into it; and oh, Uncle +Richard, what will they do now that I can't come back?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Trafford, gloomily; "they are accustomed to such +things, I suppose. Shall I have to command you to take off those wet +clothes?"</p> + +<p>Noll began to remove his ice-cold garments, but presently said,—</p> + +<p>"Is there,—do you think there'll be any hope of my going back +to-night, Uncle Richard? The child is dreadful sick, you know."</p> + +<p>"Going back!—to-night! Are you crazy, Noll?" Trafford cried. "No, you +will not put foot outside the door this night!"</p> + +<p>"But, Un—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! not another word," said his uncle, sternly. "If you have no +regard for your life, I must have for you. Hagar is waiting at the +door with your dry clothes. Are you ready for them?"</p> + +<p>Noll answered "Yes," his heart suddenly filled with a dreary +recollection of the sight which he had seen in Dirk's miserable abode. +It seemed to him as if he could hear the sick child's wail above the +war of the storm. Dirk, he thought, would watch and wait for his +return, peering through the dirty little window into the gathering +gloom and darkness, and, finding that he did not come, would settle +back into despair again.</p> + +<p>Noll put on the dry garments with a heavy heart. He was sure he felt +strong enough to return to Culm, and although the sea barred the beach +path, yet, with a lantern, he could find a way over the rocks, he +thought. But Uncle Richard had utterly refused; so there was no hope, +and the child must suffer on, and Dirk watch in vain.</p> + +<p>"Oh," thought Noll, "why wasn't I more careful? Why <i>didn't</i> I think +of the tide? Then nothing would have happened, and I could have gone +back!"</p> + +<p>Hagar came in, saying, "Ye'll hab yer supper here, in de kitchen, +Mas'r Noll, 'cause it's warmer fur ye dan in de dinin'-room. Ye won't +mind Hagar's ole kitchen jes' fur once, honey?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Noll, sadly, "I won't mind at all, Hagar, and I'm not +hungry—much."</p> + +<p>Trafford went out to change his own wet clothing. The old housekeeper +bustled between her cupboards and a little round table which she had +drawn before the fire, casting wistful looks at Noll as he sat gravely +gazing in the coals.</p> + +<p>"Bress de Lord! bress de Lord fur savin' ye!" she ejaculated, +fervently, as she bent down over her tea-pot which was spouting +odorous jets of steam from its place on the hearth; "'pears like dar +wouldn't be nuffin left in dis ole house ef de sea had swallered ye, +Mas'r Noll. Don't <i>ye</i> t'ank de Lord?" she asked, peering up into the +boy's sober face.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I'm glad to live, and I thank God for saving me; but oh, Hagar," +said Noll, almost with tears in his eyes, "there's somebody on this +Rock to-night that's as sad as you or Uncle Richard would have been +if the tide had swept me away!"</p> + +<p>"Now!" said Hagar; "an' who is dem yer?"</p> + +<p>"Dirk Sharp's little girl is sick with a fever, and I think she's +going to die,—though of course I can't tell,—and they haven't a drop +of medicine. Just think, Hagar,—dying, and nothing to save!"</p> + +<p>Hagar thought, and sighed heavily over her tea-pot. "Don' know what's +goin' to 'come o' them yer Culm folks!" she said.</p> + +<p>"And," continued Noll, "I promised to bring Dirk some medicine,—I was +going to get it of you; but I got into that fearful tide and was half +drowned, and now—oh, what can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Bress ye, honey, ye didn't 'spect to go back in de dark to Culm?" +cried Hagar.</p> + +<p>"I would—if Uncle Richard hadn't forbidden," said Noll; "do you think +you have any medicines that can help the child, Hagar?"</p> + +<p>"Don' know," shaking her turbaned head. "Ef 'twas rheumatiz, or ef +'twas a cut, or ef 'twas one o' dem yer colds, Hagar'd 'spect to know; +but can't tell nuffin 'bout fevers, nohow. 'Tw'u'd be jes' as de +Lord's willin'!"</p> + +<p>"Will you go, or send something in the morning?" queried Noll.</p> + +<p>"Ef it's pleasant, honey, Hagar'll go wid ye. Yer supper's waiting fur +ye!"</p> + +<p>Noll sighed, and did not stir. The misery which he had seen in Dirk's +wretched hut haunted him.</p> + +<p>Hagar poured out the boy's cup of tea, waited a little space, then +returned it to its steaming pot again.</p> + +<p>"Come, yer supper's cold 'nough, now, honey," said she, coming up to +Noll's seat. "What ye waitin' fur? Oh, chile, ye grows more'n' more +like yer poor father. T'inkin' ob de mis'ry ober dar; ain't ye?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Such</i> misery, too!" said Noll.</p> + +<p>"Well, dar's mis'ry eberywhere!" said Hagar; "can't go nowhere but +what ye'll find it. Yer Uncle Dick has had mis'ry 'nough in his day, +but 'tain't done him no good 'tall. Jes' froze his heart up harder'n a +stone."</p> + +<p>"It isn't all stone," said Noll.</p> + +<p>"Don' ye t'ink so? Well, 'pears like ye's sent here by de Lord, jes' +to break dat heart ob his all to pieces!" said Hagar, earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Sent here to break Uncle Richard's heart?" laughed Noll. "Well, I +wonder if he thinks I came here for that purpose?"</p> + +<p>"Don' know," said the old housekeeper, with a shake of her head; "but +dat's what I t'ink de Lord sent ye here fur. Dat heart ob his is all +frizzed up. 'Spects 'twon't be so allus, chile,—de Lord helpin'."</p> + +<p>Noll ate his supper, bade Hagar good-night, admonishing her to "be sure +and have the medicines ready the first thing!" and groped his way to +the library, where his uncle was sitting at his organ.</p> + +<p>Trafford stopped playing the instant the door opened, and as Noll drew +near, put his arm about him, saying,—</p> + +<p>"My boy!—<i>mine!</i>—doubly my own since I snatched you from death! Oh, +Noll! if I had lost you!"</p> + +<p>The boy sighed. "Dirk has got to lose <i>his</i> child," he said, "and oh, +Uncle Richard, I should be a great deal happier if I might only try to +save it!"</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" > +<a name="glyph72" id="glyph72"></a> +<img src="images/fig007.jpg" alt="glyph 7" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Dirk's Treasure</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imga.jpg" alt="A" title="A" /></div><p>t the first gray glimmer of the wintry dawn, Noll was awake. He felt +stiff and lame after his adventure of the previous evening, and not at +all inclined to stir. But a sudden recollection of Dirk and his child, +and the aid which he had promised them, came to him almost as soon as +he was conscious of the day's dawning, and he got up and limped to +the window to see whether there was any prospect of Hagar's journey to +Culm being realized. The sky was as gray and sombre as yesterday's had +been. All the sea was in a great turmoil, and rolled in a flood of +foam upon the shore as far as he could see. Not a sail in sight upon +the lonely waste, not a sign of human life anywhere. Now and then a +snow-flake fluttered down; and the wind screamed shrilly about the +house-corners, and wailed hoarsely in the casements.</p> + +<p>"Hagar can't go to-day," thought Noll, with a sinking heart; "and, oh! +what <i>can</i> be done?"</p> + +<p>He trembled for fear Uncle Richard would forbid him to go to Culm +again. He felt as if he could never bear to meet Dirk's eyes after +promising him aid and failing to bring it; and, with this thought +oppressing him, and the lonely cry of the sea filling his ears, he +dressed himself, and went down to the library with a downcast heart. +His uncle sat by a window, looking, with a sad and gloomy face, upon +the sea; and, as his nephew entered, acknowledged his "Good-morning, +Uncle Richard," with only a cold nod. But Noll, resolved to have the +matter settled at once, came up to his chair, saying,—</p> + +<p>"I've got a great favor to ask of you, Uncle Richard. May I go around +to Culm after breakfast?"</p> + +<p>Trafford's face grew gloomier than before.</p> + +<p>"For what?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"To carry something for Dirk's child," Noll answered, meeting his +uncle's stern eyes with his own pleading blue ones.</p> + +<p>"Pshaw!" exclaimed Trafford, impatiently, "what are these miserable +fish-folks to you? I don't want you to care for them!"</p> + +<p>"But, Uncle Richard—"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Dirk's child is sick,—dying, I'm afraid!"</p> + +<p>"So are hundreds in this world. There's misery everywhere."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I might aid this misery, Uncle Richard, if you'll let me try. +Will you?"</p> + +<p>"You will have more than your hands full if you are going to look +after these Culm people," said Trafford, coldly; "you had better not +begin."</p> + +<p>Noll's face grew graver and graver, and he made no reply to his +uncle's last remark.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Trafford, after a long silence, "do you wish anything +more, Noll?"</p> + +<p>The boy turned away, as if hurt by his uncle's coldness, and walked +quickly to the library door. There he wavered—stopped—then turned +about, and came back.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Richard," said he, tremulously, "papa said I was to do all the +good I could in the world, and never pass by any trouble that I might +help, and—and I think he would tell me to go to Dirk's, if he were +here."</p> + +<p>Trafford turned about with an impatient word upon his lips, but it was +not spoken. It seemed to him as if his dead brother stood before +him,—as he had known him when they were boys together,—and that +those words were meant for a reproach. He put out his hand and touched +Noll's shoulder, as if to make sure that it was really his nephew and +no vision.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said he, with a sigh, "your father looks out at me from your +eyes, Noll. Turn them away from me. Go to Culm, if you like,—you +have my permission."</p> + +<p>"Breakfas's waitin' fur ye!" said Hagar, at the door.</p> + +<p>"But, Uncle Richard," said Noll, in some perplexity, "I don't like to +go and have you all the time wishing me at home."</p> + +<p>"I cannot help that," said Trafford, as he rose to answer Hagar's +call. "I have given you permission,—go."</p> + +<p>The breakfast was a silent one. After it was over, and the door had +closed upon the grim master of the house as he went back to his books, +Hagar said,—</p> + +<p>"Don't ye let nuffin make ye downhearted, honey! De Lord'll help ye, +ef yer Uncle Dick won't. 'Tain't de might nor de money dat'll do +eberyting, chile. All 'pends on whether de Lord's on yer side. Jes' +come in my ole kitchen and see what I's put up fur ye to carry to dem +yer mis'able folks."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<a name="hagargrey" id="hagargrey"></a> +<img src="images/hagargrey.jpg" width="429" height="550" alt="Dis yer is brof" title="" /> +</div> + +<h5>"Dis yer is brof."</h5> + +<p>Noll got his overcoat and cap, and followed the old housekeeper into +her cozy and comfortable dominion.</p> + +<p>"Look at dis yer," said Hagar, taking a basket off the table; "jes' +as chock full as nuffin ye ken think ob. Dis yer is +brof,—chicken-brof,—an' dat yer bundle is crackers. Dis bottle's de +med'cine, an' de chile is to hab a teaspoonful ebery half an hour. Ef +I could be there, de chile should hab a sweat, sure; but dis +med'cine'll hev to answer! Dis yer is a teaspoon an' a teacup, 'cause +ye won't find nuffin fit fur to drink nuffin out ob. Hagar knows how +dem yer Culm folks lib! Now, ken ye 'member all dat, honey?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Noll, "and I thank you a hundred times, Hagar. I'd better +start at once, without waiting another minute."</p> + +<p>The old housekeeper followed him to the door, cautioning, "Keep 'way +from dat yer sea, chile! Don't yer git into dat yer drefful tide, +honey! an' de Lord bress ye an' bring ye safe back!"</p> + +<p>The wind was keen and bitter, and the sea thundered as mightily as on +the previous evening. Noll hurried along over the great patches of icy +sea-weed and frozen pools of water in the rocks and hollows, and +thought, now that he was making such haste, that the way had never +seemed quite so long before. He paused for a moment to look upon the +scene of last night's peril, and remember, with a shudder, how the +waves battered, and how they pierced and numbed him with their cold. +Then he ran along the hard, sandy beach as fast as the wind and his +burden would let him. The Culm huts came in sight at last, cheerless +and desolate, and with no sign of life or occupancy about them, save +the faint smoke which the wind whirled down from the chimneys.</p> + +<p>Noll began to regard Dirk's habitation with anxious eyes long before +he drew near. He half expected to see the fisherman's tall figure +pacing up and down the sand, beating his breast and groaning with +despair, perhaps; but instead, the sands were deserted. Noll came +opposite the miserable dwelling, and paused a few seconds before +rapping, waiting to hear the sick child's low wail. He heard only a +confused, unintelligible murmur of voices.</p> + +<p>A woman answered his summons,—not the child's mother, but a neighbor, +evidently,—and stood staring blankly at him.</p> + +<p>"Can I see Dirk,—Dirk Sharp?" Noll asked.</p> + +<p>At the sound of the boy's voice, the fisherman himself came to the +door. His face was haggard, and looked wan and worn, for all the +bronze of wind and weather that was upon it,</p> + +<p>"Lord bless ye, lad!" he cried to Noll, "but ye be too late."</p> + +<p>"Too late?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," brokenly, "my little gal died las' night."</p> + +<p>Noll was silent with surprise. He was too late,—too late.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dirk," he said, as soon as he could speak, "I would have come +back last night, but I got into the sea, and—and it was impossible. +So I brought what I could this morning."</p> + +<p>Dirk looked at the lad and his basket, and choked. At last he said, +gratefully, "It be good in ye to care for the like o' us, lad. We be +poor folks fur ye to look at, the Lord knows! What did ye bring fur my +little gal?"</p> + +<p>Noll lifted the cover of his basket, and Dirk peered in, exclaiming, +"My little gal never seed the like o' them, lad! She wur a tender +thing, my little gal wur, and mabby ef she'd had a bit o' somethin' +better'n the salt fish—Well, she be beyond meat and drink now," he +said, choking again.</p> + +<p>Noll knew not whether to turn back, or to stay. Dirk, however, +presently said, "Come, lad, step in an' see my little gal. She wur as +white an' sof'-cheeked as yerself. O Lord! I might ha' knowed she'd +never come up stout an' growin' like the rest," he groaned as he +turned back to lead the way for Noll.</p> + +<p>In the room where the little one had lain sat three or four old +fish-wives,—wrinkled, weather-beaten old faces they had,—who were +nodding and whispering over their pipes in a solemn kind of way, +occasionally addressing a word to the mother, who sat enveloped in the +smoke which poured into the room from the ill-constructed fireplace. +They regarded Noll with many curious glances as he passed through +after Dirk to the apartment where the child was laid, and one old +creature followed after them, apparently to ascertain the boy's +errand.</p> + +<p>It was a bare room where Dirk's treasure was sleeping,—not a thing in +it save the two wooden stools and rough board which upheld their still +little burden. Pure and white the child lay,—a fair, delicate flower +when compared with the dinginess and squalor of everything about it; +and something of this contrast seemed to glimmer upon Dirk's rough +perceptions, for he said to Noll,—</p> + +<p>"Ye wouldn't think she could be mine, lad! Ye don't wonder the little +gal couldn't come up like the rest o' the young uns?"</p> + +<p>"It wur a fair gal, Lord knows," said the old fish-wife who had +followed them in; "it warn't black and freckly, never. Sich kinds +don't love this salt water, Dirk Sharp,—ye couldn't ha' raised her, +man!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my little gal!" murmured Dirk, smoothing a fleck of golden hair +with his great brawny hand.</p> + +<p>"Ye be fair an' white," said the old fish-wife, touching Noll's cheek +with her skinny finger, "an' what be ye here on the Rock fur?"</p> + +<p>"Sh!—ye let the lad alone, mother," said Dirk; "he be come here to +bring my little gal somethin', an' she be beyond eatin' an' drinkin'. +He be a good lad to do it!"</p> + +<p>Noll looked upon the little sleeper's face, and then at the wretched +surroundings, and was glad for the child's sake that sleep and peace +had come at last. Yet his heart was heavy as he looked upon his basket +and its now useless contents, and he thought, "Oh, if I had only been +more careful last night!—perhaps—perhaps Hagar's medicines could +have helped it." He turned to Dirk, saying, quietly,—</p> + +<p>"I must go now. I'm—I'm <i>so</i> sorry I was too late!"</p> + +<p>The fisherman followed Noll out on to the sand, and, as the boy was +about to turn away homeward, took both his hands in one of his own +great brown ones, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Ye be kinder to me 'an I ken tell ye, lad. I thought yer kind had no +heart fur us folk. Bless ye, lad, bless ye!"</p> + +<p>Noll's homeward walk seemed somewhat brighter to him, even though he +left the child dead behind him. Dirk's gratitude, a small matter +though it may have been, gave him a thrill of pleasure. It was +pleasant to think that he had one friend among the fish-folk, rough +and ignorant though they were. He remembered how, in the little +sea-town in which his father had once dwelt, the fishermen came at +last to love and respect the kind minister who worked so patiently to +raise them out of their slough of ignorance and degradation, and that +whenever his father walked among them, they flocked about him to +listen to his words and counsel, and watch for his look or smile of +approval.</p> + +<p>"And," thought Noll, "if Uncle Richard would only do as papa did, what +a happy man he would be, and what good he could do for Culm!" But that +time—if ever it came—was yet a long, long way off, he thought, and +so the people must live on their old, dreary, wretched life till some +one taught them better.</p> + +<p>The boy walked soberly home, with a great many serious, earnest +thoughts in his heart. Somehow, this morning's sight had made another +impression upon his mind beside that of sadness and disappointment. He +felt and saw that there was a great work to do. Who was to do it?</p> + +<p>Hagar met him at the door, rejoicing that he had returned in safety, +but, stopping only to tell her that the child was dead, Noll went on +to the library. It was the boy's intention to open his heart to his +uncle, and tell him of all the want and wretchedness there was at +Culm, while the impression was so deep and vivid in his mind; but +Trafford sat at the organ and took no notice of his nephew's presence, +and, after a long lingering, Noll gave up the attempt for that day, at +least.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon when he went out for his accustomed walk. +Partly by accident, partly by design, he came to the little place of +graves in the frozen sand, and there found the funeral party from the +fish-huts just gathering about the shallow resting-place which had +been scooped for Dirk's treasure. The huddling crowd of poorly-clad +men and women respectfully made way for him, and Dirk looked +unutterable thanks for what he considered a great honor. Without a +prayer, without a word of consolation, the little one was lowered +into the earth amid the wailing of the women, and the shrill and +lonely screaming of the fierce and bitter wind.</p> + +<p>Noll had never seen anything so unutterably dreary, and when all was +over, and the mourners had disappeared over the other side of the +Rock, he went home, thinking more deeply than ever of the work to be +done, and wondering who was to do it.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph142" id="glyph142"></a> +<img src="images/fig014.jpg" alt="glyph 14" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph31" id="glyph31"></a> +<img src="images/fig031.jpg" width="400" height="158" alt="glyph 31" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Firelight Talk</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he warmth and quietness of the library made such a bright and +pleasant contrast to the dreary scene in the Culm burying-ground that +Noll gave a great sigh of pleasure and relief as he entered the room +and found it light and cheerful with the blaze of a brisk fire on the +hearth. He sat down in one of the big arm-chairs which stood either +side of the fireplace, and held his numbed hands in the warmth, and +looked about him, thinking that the old stone house was a palace in +comparison with the other Culm habitations. Uncle Richard sat in his +usual seat by the window, with his face toward the darkening sea, and, +with the dismal scene which he had just witnessed fresh in his mind, +Noll felt a tenderer yearning toward the stern man,—feeling, somehow, +as if they could not be too near and dear to each other on this lonely +Rock, where, just now, it seemed as if there was little else than +wretchedness. Perhaps it was this feeling which led the boy to leave +his seat and stand by his uncle's chair, and, with one hand on the +grim man's shoulder, to say, "Dirk's child is dead, Uncle Richard, and +they've just buried it. Oh! what a lonely place to be buried in! I +would rather lie in the sea, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>Trafford turned suddenly about at these words, exclaiming, "Hush, +hush! don't talk about death, boy! What have you been up to that +dreary little heap of graves for?"</p> + +<p>"Partly to please Dirk,—partly because I wished, Uncle Richard. It's +a dismal place! I'm glad enough to get back."</p> + +<p>"We shall both sleep there soon enough," said Trafford, who seemed to +be in one of his gloomiest moods. "Why go there till we go for the +last time?"</p> + +<p>Noll's arm went about his uncle's neck. "Don't say such things!" he +said. "Perhaps we'll not live here always, Uncle Richard; and, if we +do have to be buried up there in the sand, heaven is just as near, +after all."</p> + +<p>Trafford looked at the boy's face, ruddy and glowing from the long +walk in the wind, and sighed,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, for you, Noll. But for me,—no, no!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>"Because—it is all dark,—dark! I have nothing, see nothing to hope +for beyond."</p> + +<p>"Why won't you try to hope?" said Noll, softly.</p> + +<p>"Hush! it's no use. Your Aunt Marguerite bade me follow after her long +ago. I did not try. Your father said almost the same, Noll. Yet here I +am,—I have not tried, I see no light, there is no hope for me."</p> + +<p>The crackle of the fire and the hoarse voice of the sea had the +silence all to themselves for a long time. At last Noll said,—</p> + +<p>"When papa died, he did not fear at all, Uncle Richard. He said it was +only the end of his journey, and that I was to follow on in the same +way till I got to him at last. And papa said the truth, Uncle +Richard."</p> + +<p>"Yes! he never said aught else, Noll,—never!"</p> + +<p>"And," continued the boy, his face growing grave, "papa said I was +never to forget God, and never to forget to help any of his creatures +if they were in trouble, and, oh! Uncle Richard, I hope I never +shall!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Trafford, thoughtfully, "your father ever had others' +welfare at heart. I remember, when we were lads, how, one day, in +coming from the woods with nuts and grapes, we passed a poor creature +by the roadside, who seemed fainting with fatigue or hunger. We both +laughed at the queer figure at first, and passed by merrily, and went +on our way; but Noll's face grew graver and graver, I remember, and by +and by he would turn about, in spite of me, and go all the long way +back to empty his pockets of their pennies and bits of silver into the +wanderer's lap. Yes, he had a heart for every unfortunate, and it was +not closed against them as he grew older."</p> + +<p>Again the room was silent, while the fire flickered and painted +flame-shadows on the wall, and lit up the dusky corners with its red +glow. Noll sat on the arm of his uncle's chair, and watched the +quivering shapes, and, in fancy, went back over the sea to Hastings. +It was something such a night as this, he remembered, that papa had +bidden him farewell,—lying so calm and patient in the great south +chamber, where people were stepping softly about, and speaking in +whispers and sighs. And papa's dear arms had been around him till the +last, Noll thought, with his eyes brimming, and seeming yet to feel +their gentle pressure; and, as long as it could whisper, the dear +voice had breathed love and solemn counsel and fervent prayer into his +ears. Back to the boy came the vivid recollection of all the hushed +voice had said,—all the injunctions, the earnest entreaties to follow +in the path which led only heavenward, and his heart was so full that +he longed to cry out, "Papa, papa! If I might only see your face in +this dreary place!"</p> + +<p>Trafford presently said, speaking his thoughts aloud, "It was an evil +day that separated us. God only knows what I might have been, had I +always lived in the sunshine of his pure, warm heart. Why are you so +silent, Noll?"</p> + +<p>The boy could not trust himself to speak, and Trafford suddenly saw +that there were tears shining in his eyes. Noll felt his uncle's hand +laid upon his head, and the stern voice said, with all the tenderness +of which it was capable,—</p> + +<p>"It's a hard life for you, Noll. I can see,—I know it."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" said the boy, quickly, "it's not that, Uncle Richard! I was +only thinking of—of papa,—that was all."</p> + +<p>"What about him?" queried Trafford; "I never knew that you mourned +before."</p> + +<p>"Why," said Noll, chokingly, "papa told me so much,—so much that he +wished me to do and be,—and it all came to me just then, as if he +were saying it over again."</p> + +<p>"What did he wish you to do and be?" Trafford quietly asked.</p> + +<p>"He said that—that I should find Christ's work to do wherever I might +be, and that I must do his work and follow him wherever I should go; +and—and I'm a long way from that, Uncle Richard; though," Noll added, +turning his face away from the shining firelight, "I do try to do it, +and not forget him nor his work."</p> + +<p>Again Trafford's hand was laid upon the boy's head, this time to +stroke his curly locks away from his eyes, where the wind had blown +them.</p> + +<p>"Did he tell you aught of me?" he asked, presently.</p> + +<p>"No,—only that if you ever found me, or I you, that I was to be your +boy. Papa said you would care for me."</p> + +<p>"He believed in me still! He trusted me!" said Trafford. "Alas! he +knew not what a father I should make his child."</p> + +<p>Noll slipped off the chair arm, saying, "Don't say that again, Uncle +Richard. Papa trusted you,—so do I. And, if you please, will you go +out to supper? Hagar called a long time ago. Come, Uncle Richard, +don't look so gloomy! Papa smiled even when—when he was saying +good-by to me."</p> + +<p>The instant these words escaped Noll's lips he half regretted them. He +had never before allowed his uncle to know that he thought him sad and +gloomy, and he was not quite sure that the careless word would strike +agreeably upon his ears. But Trafford only said,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, Noll, I know. We will go out to supper," and rose from the chair +and followed after his nephew.</p> + +<p>The boy did his best to make the meal a cheery one, thinking to +himself that this, as much as anything, was a part of the work which +papa wished him to do; and, observing his efforts, Trafford endeavored +to keep pace with his nephew's cheerful talk. Noll did not go back to +the library after tea was over, but followed Hagar out to her kitchen +as she went thither with her tray of dishes, and sat down in the cozy +corner by the fireplace. Somehow, the boy thought, the old +housekeeper's humble kitchen seemed to gather more brightness and +cheerfulness into its rough and smoke-tarnished precincts than the +great library, with all its comforts and elegancies, ever held. The +reason for this he did not seek; he only knew that it was so, and +liked the wooden seat in the chimney-corner accordingly. Hagar came +out with her last tray-load from the dining-room, and set it down upon +the table with,—</p> + +<p>"Bress ye, honey, Hagar's glad 'nough to see ye sittin' dar. 'Pears +like I never heard de sea shoutin' like it is dis yer ebenin'. Seems +as ef all de folks dat de cruel ole monster hab swallered wur jes' +openin' the'r moufs and cryin' 'loud! Hagar t'anks de Lord dat yer +ain't in de bottom ob it, honey."</p> + +<p>The old housekeeper took two or three side glances at the boy's sober +face as she poured the hot water over her dishes, and said at last, +"Now don' ye s'pose Hagar knows what ye're t'inkin' ob so hard, chile? +Ki! she c'u'd tell ye quicker'n nuffin. You's t'inkin' ob dem mis'able +Culm folks, you is."</p> + +<p>"You are partly right," said Noll. "It seems to me as if I couldn't +think of anything else. I try to sometimes, but the sight of their +wretched ways keeps coming to me, and it's no use to try and put it +away. Oh, dear, I wish something could be done for them!"</p> + +<p>"Dat's yer bressed father all ober!" said Hagar. "'Spects ef he was +'live an' livin' on dis yer wild'ness, we'd see somethin' did fur 'em. +But Mas'r Dick—well, his heart is all frizzed up, jes' as I telled ye +afore. But de Lord'll open it sometime, honey,—Hagar's got faith +'nough to b'lieve dat!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I hope so," said Noll; "but what are the people going to do till +then?"</p> + +<p>"Can't tell ye nuffin 'bout dat," said Hagar, making a vigorous +clatter among her dishes; "'spects the day's comin', tho', when de +Lord gets ready fur't. 'Tain't till <i>he</i> says, honey."</p> + +<p>Noll gravely replenished the fire from the great basket of cones and +chips which stood on the hearth, and stood listening, for a little +time, to their brisk snap and crackle, then turned to Hagar, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Do you think I could do anything for them, Hagar? I've been thinking +this long time about it, and there's no one to ask but you, for I +can't quite get courage enough to say anything to Uncle Richard about +it,—he would be angry, I'm afraid. Do you think I could do anything, +Hagar?"</p> + +<p>The old housekeeper let go her dishcloth, and turned about to look at +Noll, as he stood before the fire. Her eyes surveyed the lad from head +to foot,—as if it was the first time she had seen him,—and after a +few minutes of silence she slowly said, "What put dat in yer head, +chile?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know; it's been there this great while. It was the misery +over there, I suppose," said Noll.</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said she, turning back to her dishes, "Hagar's +'stonished, she is! Does I 'spect ye ken do anything fur dem yer? +Bress de Lord! <i>He'll</i> help ye, honey!—he'll help ye! An' ef it +wa'n't de Lord dat put it in yer head—Well, chile," Hagar added, "de +Lord's eberywhere, an' 'pears to me like as ef it was his doin'. What +ye t'ink, honey?"</p> + +<p>Noll was looking in the rosy bed of coals, and for a few minutes made +no reply; then he said, in answer to Hagar's question,—</p> + +<p>"I'd like to think that, Hagar. I'd like to have all my thoughts and +plans come from him, and I'd like to do the Lord's work; for that's +what I promised,—that's what I am trying to do."</p> + +<p>Hagar wiped a pile of plates, and laying down her towel, said, +reverently,—</p> + +<p>"Promise, chile? Did ye promise de Lord, or who?"</p> + +<p>After she had asked this question, she looked furtively over her +shoulder at Noll, as if fearing she had asked about something which +she had no right to know.</p> + +<p>But Noll, with hands clasped over knee, was looking straight into the +firelight, and did not appear offended; and pretty soon he said, +slowly and softly, Hagar stopping her clatter to listen,—</p> + +<p>"Before mamma died—Did you know mamma, Hagar?"</p> + +<p>"Not muchly, chile," said Hagar; "yer Uncle Dick's wife was my lady."</p> + +<p>"Well, before mamma died," continued Noll, "we used to take long walks +upon the shore by the town. A great shining shore it was, I remember, +and yellow like gold sometimes when the sun shone upon it."</p> + +<p>"Like de shore ob de new Jerusalem," interposed Hagar, gazing +abstractedly in her dish-pan.</p> + +<p>"And there were great cedars and pines drooping down from the rocks," +continued Noll, "and here mamma and I used to walk up and down when +papa was busy in his study; and almost always he used to come out to +walk a little with us before we were through. And one day we waited a +long time for him to come out, and at last sat down on a rock, for +mamma was not well then, and could not walk long without a rest; and +as she looked across the smooth water, she said, 'And the building of +the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, like unto +clear glass.' Though I was a good deal smaller than I am now, I knew +what she meant, and of what she was thinking, for mamma used to talk +about leaving me then; and I laid my head in her lap and cried a +little, and said,—</p> + +<p>"'Oh, don't talk of that, mamma, for what am I going to do?'"</p> + +<p>Noll choked a little here at the remembrance, and Hagar drew a long +breath.</p> + +<p>"Then," continued Noll, with a quivering voice, "she bent her face +over me and the tears in her eyes ran over on to my cheeks, and she +said,—</p> + +<p>"'Oh, my little Noll, if mamma could feel sure that you were ready to +come after her into that city, she would never cry or mourn again!'</p> + +<p>"It seemed as if my heart would break to see her cry and to know that +I was <i>not</i> ready, and that I could not stop her tears. I wanted to +scream and groan, my heart swelled so."</p> + +<p>"Ob course ye did," said Hagar, with ready sympathy.</p> + +<p>Noll was silent for a long minute. Somehow, the talk with Uncle +Richard in the library had brought back the remembrance of all these +past events so brightly and vividly that it was like living them over +again. But he had not yet got to the "promise," and Hagar was waiting +patiently. So he continued, with a slight effort, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Mamma dried her tears very suddenly, for papa came in sight just +then, and I suppose she feared he would be worried or anxious about +her, and though she said nothing more to me about the city to which +she was going, I couldn't forget her tears, nor that she was sorrowful +and unhappy on my account. It made me miserable. I didn't want to walk +with her the next day, for fear I should see her tears again; and I +knew I could not bear <i>that</i>. So when it came time to go, I hid away, +and she went alone."</p> + +<p>"Poor honey!" said Hagar, reflectively.</p> + +<p>"But that only made it all worse. I knew that I was all wrong, and +that I ought to try and find Jesus, through whom, mamma said, she +could only enter into the city. But it seemed as if he had hidden away +from me; and the way was all dark and I was afraid and wretched and +miserable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, chile," said Hagar, "de bressed Lord was waitin' an' ready to +take ye up in his arms de berry minnit ye frowed yerself on his +mercy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Noll, "but I was not ready. I held back, and was wicked +and wretched; but it couldn't last alway, and one night when I had +said my prayer and been tucked in bed by mamma's poor weak, patient +hands, I could delay no longer, and throwing my arms about her neck +when she bent down to kiss me, I cried and sobbed, and begged her to +help me find Jesus, who reigned over the city, and mamma cried +too,—tears of joy they were, she said,—and told me that I had not to +seek for him as for a great stranger, but that he stood ready to enter +in and dwell in my heart the moment I yielded it up to him."</p> + +<p>"Dat was de bressed troof!" said Hagar, with shining eyes; "an' what +did ye do den, honey?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma called papa to come, and he prayed that Jesus would forgive me +and make my heart his own, and help me to always walk in the path that +ends at last at the gate of his city. And," Noll added, turning partly +about to Hagar, "I did give up, and—and I think he forgave me. The +dreary load went off my heart, and I promised Jesus then to never +forget him nor his work. When mamma did at last go to the city, I +promised her the same; when papa went, I promised him too. That is my +promise," said Noll, a little tremulously. "Do you think I can forget +it, Hagar? Do you think I can help wanting to do what is his work?"</p> + +<p>Hagar wiped her eyes. "'Spects dere's no need ob answerin' dat +question," said she, quietly; "when de Lord's wid ye, dar ain't nobody +gwine to 'vent yer workin' good, nohow."</p> + +<p>"But I don't know how to begin," said Noll, "even if I could do +anything. There's so much to be done, and I've nothing to do with. And +I'm afraid that Uncle Richard will forbid me to do anything about it. +Ho doesn't want me to go to Culm, he says, and he dislikes the Culm +people."</p> + +<p>Hagar did not know what consolation to offer for this unfavorable +prospect. She could not counsel the boy to disobey his uncle's +commands, neither did she accept the idea of having Noll's projects +defeated for lack of permission to carry them out.</p> + +<p>"Don' know, honey," said she, after a long meditation; "can't tell ye +nuffin 'bout dat, nohow. But jes' go right on wid yer plans, an' de +Lord'll find a way fur ye. He ken do it,—he ken do it, chile."</p> + +<p>But the question was not settled in Noll's mind. It was not a thing to +be undertaken without much deliberation, and, as yet, only the vaguest +of schemes floated through his mind. He wished to aid, he longed to be +doing something of the work that was to be done, but there did not +seem to be the smallest prospect of a commencement.</p> + +<p>Christmas came and went. The eve was not an unpleasant one to Noll, +though he remembered all too well what a blithe evening the last +Christmas-eve had been, and could not help thinking yearningly of the +dear friends gathered merrily together across the sea, and wonder +whether he was missed from the throng, as he sat by the fire all the +solitary evening.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph1a" id="glyph1a"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 1" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph122" id="glyph122"></a> +<img src="images/fig012.jpg" width="400" height="157" alt="glyph 12" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Winter's Waning</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgd.jpg" alt="D" title="D" /></div><p>irk's little one was not the only fever-stricken sleeper that was +laid to rest in the dreary little burying-ground that winter. The +fever, born of want and filth and exposure, lingered among the +wretched huts, taking down the strong men and wasting the lives of the +little ones, till, after weary lingering, they flickered out. Of +course the sick ones had but the poorest of care and the rudest of +medical aid. The people were disheartened and apathetic, and seemed to +have no idea of cleansing their habitations or reforming their way of +living. Noll once ventured to hint to Dirk, with whom he was more +intimately acquainted than the others, that cleanliness and care might +do much toward ridding them of the haunting fever. The fisherman +stared blankly at this suggestion, and replied,—</p> + +<p>"It mought do fur the like o' ye, lad; but we be poor folks, an' I +don't think 'tw'u'd do the good ye think. The fever be come, an' it be +goin' to stay till we be all lyin' up in the sand yender."</p> + +<p>So the sickness lingered, meeting no resistance and no attempts to +check its progress. It smote heaviest the little ones just toddling +about, and who had not enough of strength and endurance in their +little bodies to resist the slowly-destroying fever. So Dirk's +treasure did not sleep alone in the sand, for many another father's +was there to keep it company. Oh! the weariness of the days, the slow +dragging of the weeks! When the sickness seemed to have spent itself, +and hope was beginning to flicker up, back came the destroyer and fell +upon some little one whom father and mother had fondly hoped to +save,—for these Culm people, dull and ignorant though they were, had +a strong and passionate love for their children that showed itself +most vividly in these days of death,—and then the people settled into +their old apathetic despair and found no light nor comfort for their +souls.</p> + +<p>Was it any wonder that—with all this misery and death about him, and +the sight of it distressing him—Noll should grow sick at heart? The +gloom of the old stone house and the desolateness of his new home, +when compared with the one which he had left, had, at first, been all +that his fresh young spirits could bear; and, having grown to like his +new abode in a measure, he found, even then, that it would not do to +remember Hastings and his friends too often; and now, in these dreary +days, the boy began to grow less cheerful and to feel an unconquerable +desire to go back to those who loved him and whose homes knew nothing +of dreariness or gloom. This longing for friends he kept bravely to +himself, because he thought it was a part of his work—the work which +it seemed to him was God's—to be as brave and cheerful as possible +before Uncle Richard, and win him out of his gloom and moroseness. So +this yearning and desire for brighter scenes and faces was kept a +secret, and Trafford suspected nothing of it. His keen eyes, however, +detected that Noll was graver and less talkative than usual, and he +began to look about for a reason. Some dim knowledge of the sickness +and death in the village had crept in to him through Noll's and +Hagar's talk, and a sudden fear chilled him lest his nephew, too, was +to be stricken down with the lingering fever. What if it should be so? +What if even now the boy was oppressed with the languor and depression +which precedes illness? With this thought torturing him, he called to +Noll one afternoon from the library window, as the boy was idly +walking up and down the frozen sand. After a few minutes of waiting, +Noll made his appearance at the library door, looking a little +surprised, perhaps, at this unusual summons. Trafford bade him come up +to his chair, and Noll obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Where were you all the forenoon?" questioned the uncle. "I saw you +but once after breakfast."</p> + +<p>Noll looked as if he had much rather refrain from answering, but said, +after a few seconds of hesitation, "Over at Culm, Uncle Richard."</p> + +<p>"At Culm!" exclaimed Trafford, sternly. "Isn't the fever raging +there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And you have been exposing yourself? Speak, Noll!"</p> + +<p>"Why—yes—I suppose so, Uncle Richard. I was in the room where Hark +Darby's little boy was sick."</p> + +<p>Trafford stamped upon the floor with impatience. "What were you there +for?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"To carry something that Hagar made for it to drink. There's no +doctor, you know; and they're terribly poor, Uncle Richard. Oh! if you +could only—"</p> + +<p>"Stop! I wish to hear naught of those fish-folks," cried Trafford. +"Oh! you careless lad, what can I do with you? Are you determined to +catch the fever? Are you bound to be always in danger?"</p> + +<p>"No; but it's terrible over there, and—and they're dying with the +sickness, and nothing to make them comfortable! Oh! how can I help it, +Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>Trafford looked into the lad's earnest eyes and sighed. "Would you +like to take the fever and be buried with the rest up there in the +sand?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Noll shivered a little, and answered, "No, I don't want to die, Uncle +Richard. But I think I ought to help them all I can, over there, for +all that. And it's such a little—such a <i>very</i> little—that I can do! +Oh! Uncle Richard, don't you think it is terrible to see them so +wretched, and no one to help them?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see them!" said Trafford; "I should know nothing of it but +for you, and I don't want you to see them or know aught of the misery +or the sickness. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>Noll looked at his uncle as if he failed to comprehend.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean that I'm not to go there any more?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, since you are not disposed to incline to my wishes, I must +command you. You are not to go near—"</p> + +<p>This time it was Noll who interrupted. Before Trafford could finish +his command, the boy had taken two or three quick steps forward and +clasped his arms so quickly and convulsively about the stern man's +neck that he was startled into silence.</p> + +<p>"Don't, don't say that, Uncle Richard!" cried Noll; "I couldn't mind +you if you did! It wouldn't be right,—when they're all sick and +almost starving,—and I couldn't do it, and it is not as papa told me +to do! And—"</p> + +<p>Trafford endeavored to release Noll's hold, but the boy only clung the +tighter, exclaiming,—</p> + +<p>"No, no! don't say it, Uncle Richard, for I couldn't mind you! Papa +never would wish me to! And oh, why don't <i>you</i> help those poor, dying +people? Why don't you help them, Uncle Richard? Why don't you,—why +<i>don't</i> you?"</p> + +<p>Surprised at this unusual vehemence on the part of his nephew, +Trafford was silent, hardly knowing whether to be angry or +indifferent. That this matter lay very near the boy's heart, he had no +longer any doubt. What could he do with him?</p> + +<p>"Noll," said he after a long silence, "do you mean that you will not +obey me?"</p> + +<p>The boy hesitated. "In everything else, Uncle Richard," he answered, +with red cheeks and downcast eyes; "but this—but this—oh, how can +you ask me to stop? There isn't any one else to do anything, and it +helps a little, and they look for me to come every day; and if I did +not—oh, Uncle Richard, it would be too cruel! I can't do it! Do <i>you</i> +think papa would be pleased?"</p> + +<p>"But you are mine, now, not his," said Trafford; with something like +displeasure in his tone; "aren't you aware of it?"</p> + +<p>Noll said not a word, but stood with his eyes turned away from his +uncle's, and his cheeks crimsoning, while his breath came quick and +fast.</p> + +<p>"Will you obey me or not?" Trafford asked, sternly.</p> + +<p>Noll turned around and met his uncle's eye. He began to plead. His awe +of his uncle seemed to have vanished for the time, and Trafford was +astonished at the boy's earnestness and vehemence. Two or three times +he was about to put up his hand to command silence, but Noll redoubled +his pleading, and he continued to listen. All the remembrances of the +past dreary weeks—the want, the slow wasting, the flickering out of +life, the dismal laying away of the poor body in the sand—came to +Noll as vividly as the reality which he had witnessed, and made him +pray for relief with an earnestness and entreaty which ordinarily were +not his.</p> + +<p>"Just think, Uncle Richard," said he, in conclusion, "papa would have +gone to their aid long ago. He bade me do all the good I could, and +you won't forbid me?—oh, I know you will not!—and won't you help me +to do more,—won't you, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>Trafford gloomily pushed his nephew away.</p> + +<p>"Go!" he said; "I do not care to see you any more this afternoon."</p> + +<p>Hardly had the boy turned away, however, before the quick thought +flashed into his mind that he had failed to ask him the question for +which he had called him. He might even now be ill, and he was sending +him away in anger!</p> + +<p>"Noll!" exclaimed Trafford, "come back. Are you ill, my boy?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Why are you so grave and sober of late?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know that I was, Uncle Richard."</p> + +<p>Trafford looked keenly in his nephew's face, and at last drew him +toward himself. What if the fever should get a hold of the boy? he +thought, anxiously. There was no aid, no succor!</p> + +<p>"Oh, Noll," he said, as tenderly as he might, "you cannot know what a +blow it would be to me to lose you. Won't you be careful for my sake?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Uncle Richard; I don't think there is much danger, though. It is +only the weak, half-starved ones that are ill."</p> + +<p>A long silence followed. Then Noll asked, softly,—</p> + +<p>"Do you give me permission to help them all I can, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>Trafford drew a great sigh, as if he felt himself to be yielding, +perhaps, the boy's very life, and answered, "Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you'll help me, too?" said Noll, brightly.</p> + +<p>"No! Isn't this enough? What more would you have?"</p> + +<p>"I thought that—that perhaps you would help a little, too,—you can +do so much more than I," said Noll.</p> + +<p>Trafford shook his head, gloomily. "No," he said; "I can give you +nothing but money. I have no heart for the work. And now I think of +it, you've had no allowance since you came here, Noll. I had not +thought of it before. Brother Noll and I always had spending-money."</p> + +<p>"But I've no use for it," said Noll, with a little laugh; "I couldn't +spend it if I tried, Uncle Richard!"</p> + +<p>"You may find a use for it when the 'Gull' begins her trips again," +said his uncle; "at any rate, you shall have an allowance. You will +find it on your study table every Monday morning."</p> + +<p>Noll thanked his uncle for this kindness, but at the time, was much at +a loss what to do with his weekly allowance which every Monday morning +brought him. He found a use for it, however, as time will show.</p> + +<p>After this long talk, Noll felt somewhat lighter-hearted, if for no +other reason than because he had received Uncle Richard's permission +to go on with his work of aid. Spring was not far off, and with its +coming the fever would most likely flee, and then, he thought, there +would be some hope of doing something for the Culm people. And was he +not already doing something?</p> + +<p>To Noll, it seemed but the merest trifle; in the eyes of the poor +fish-folk, his deeds were great and wonderful. All unconsciously, the +boy was accomplishing one of the most difficult portions of the task +which he had set for himself,—the winning of those rough, untaught +hearts. Many an uncouth blessing was called down upon the lad's head +as he made his appearance day after day at the doors of the +habitations which the fever had entered. His cheery, gladsome +presence, the Culm folk thought, was like a ray of sunshine in the +gloom of their hovels. It was curious to see how those great brawny +men confided in him, and watched to see him coming down the sands of a +morning-time, with his basket of delicacies on one arm, balanced by a +basket of more substantial food on the other. Not one of the men but +what, in their hearts, loved the boy and blessed the day which brought +him to Culm Rock. And, quite before he was aware of it, Noll had +accomplished one great object, and won the love and confidence of the +fish-folk.</p> + +<p>The snow melted and ran into the sea, the ice in the rock hollows +trickled its life away, and warmer winds and sunnier clouds gave token +of the spring's coming; and Noll grew happier every day and looked +gleefully forward to the coming of the "Gull," and the tidings which +she would bring. Often in these days, when returning from his morning +round, it seemed to the boy as if his own father's blessing rested +upon his heart, it was so light and glad, and that God's love was all +about him and smiling over the barren Rock and the far, wide sea.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph36" id="glyph36"></a> +<img src="images/fig036.jpg" alt="glyph 36" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Ned Thorn</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgi.jpg" alt="I" title="I" /></div><p>t was on one of the balmiest of spring afternoons that Noll went over +to Culm to see a little child who was recovering from the fever. The +sickness, apparently, had run its course, and the people were +beginning to take heart; and the men were overhauling their nets and +making ready for their summer's work. There had been a heavy storm on +the previous evening, and Noll found quantities of brilliant +sea-weeds and curious shells and pebbles on his walk along the beach, +and lingered long to search for treasures and enjoy the bright +loveliness of the day. Culm Rock and the great sea had never looked +fairer to him than on this afternoon,—the one lying warm and silent, +its great stone ribs purpling under the sun, and the other flecked +with curling ripples of snowy foam and emerald light.</p> + +<p>It was late afternoon when he arrived at the Culm houses, and so long +did he linger that the sun was dipping in the waves before he was +ready to leave his little patient. He was standing in the door, +swinging his basket to and fro, and on the point of taking his +departure, when a sudden shout of voices from without turned his +attention in that direction. There, slowly riding in over the waves +all burnished and aflame with ruddy sunlight, was the "Gull"!</p> + +<p>For a few short seconds Noll actually stood still with pleasure and +delight, then dropping his basket, he ran off across the sand toward +the wharf, as fast as he could go. The fishermen were already +congregating there, and their wives were standing in the doors of +their dwellings to gaze upon the welcome sight.</p> + +<p>The vessel's white wings slowly brought her round to the little wharf, +revealing the skipper's sturdy person, and Mr. Snape's long and solemn +visage. Noll could hardly wait for the craft to touch the planks, and +Skipper Ben spied the lad before the "Gull" came up, with a dull thump +and jar, alongside.</p> + +<p>"Great fishes!" cried he, extending his hand to aid Noll in clambering +aboard, "if here ben't the lad, alive an' hearty! Glad ter see +ye,—glad ter see ye!" shaking the boy's hand as if he never would +have done.</p> + +<p>"You may believe I'm glad to see you!" said Noll; "I never was so glad +to see anything as the old 'Gull' in my life; and oh, why didn't you +come earlier, skipper?"</p> + +<p>Ben laughed. "I knowed ye hev a hard time on't," he said; "reckoned +ye'd be glad ter see the old skipper once more. An', lad, how goes +it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Snape came up just here, drawling, "What ye think o' the winters +down 'ere, now, lad?"</p> + +<p>"They <i>are</i> long," said Noll; "but I've got through one, somehow. If +it weren't for the sickness, and such a long time without letters, I +wouldn't mind. Oh! skipper, haven't you got a great packet of 'em for +me?"</p> + +<p>"Been sick down 'ere; hev ye?" said Ben, evading Noll's question. +"Well, that's wuss'n bein' without letters, eh, lad?"</p> + +<p>"But haven't you got a bundle of 'em for me?" queried Noll. "I can't +wait, skipper!"</p> + +<p>The skipper began to slowly shake his head. "Sorry," he said, "but I +didn't bring ye nary letter this time. Don' know but all yer frien's +hev forgot ye, fur they didn't give a single scrap o' paper to bring, +nor a message, nuther."</p> + +<p>Mr. Snape began to grin, seeing how Noll's face fell, and how all his +joy and eagerness had suddenly vanished, and stepping along to the +hatchway, made certain mysterious signs and beckonings to something or +some one, there. Noll, filled with disappointment, walked away to the +stern and looked down into the green depths of water rippling there, +and strove to conceal his feelings from the watchful skipper. Up from +the hatchway and along the deck came a light step,—eager, +hurrying,—and before Noll could turn around, two arms had clasped him +about and held him fast against the rail, while a voice—just as full +of laughter and merriness as a voice could be—cried,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Noll, Noll Trafford! not to know me! not to <i>guess</i> that I was +here! Why, you dear old fellow, ain't I better than letters? I've a +good mind to never let you look around to pay for not mistrusting that +I was here! Oh, Noll!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I be beat!" said the skipper. "I never seed a lad so +dumbfounded afore. What ye goin' to give me fur bringin' ye sech a +parcel, Master Noll?"</p> + +<p>But Noll had only eyes and ears for his friend.</p> + +<p>"Ned, Ned Thorn!" he exclaimed, looking at his friend with wide-open +eyes, as if he thought he was seeing a vision. "It is really you, only +grown a little taller!"</p> + +<p>"Of course it is; who else should it be?" said Ned, drawing his friend +out to one of the skipper's bales, where they could both sit down. +"You're brown as an old salt, Noll; but you haven't grown a bit! Oh, +but you may believe I'm glad to see you! I thought you'd be dying by +this time to see some one from Hastings, and when the skipper pointed +out the old stone dungeon where you live, I thought likely you were +dead already. What a horrid old fortress 'tis! and weren't you awful +homesick? and aren't you terribly moped up in such quarters? and, you +dear old Noll, how <i>have</i> you managed to live it through, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"Beats everything at questions, that lad does," observed Mr. Snape to +the skipper; "nigh about pestered me to death, comin' down. You'd +better charge double ef yer goin' to carry him home, 'cause it's two +days' work fur one man ter tend to his talk. I ben't goin' to do't fur +nothin'."</p> + +<p>"They ben't glad to see each other, eh, Jack?" said Ben; "wish there +was some prospect o' taking t'other home, too."</p> + +<p>"I sh'u'd be 'feared the 'Gull''d founder," said Mr. Snape.</p> + +<p>Noll, in the midst of happy talk, suddenly recollected that it was +after sundown, and that Uncle Richard and the tea-table would be +waiting.</p> + +<p>"Come, Ned," he said, gleefully, "I'd forgotten all about sunset and +home till this minute. It's a good long walk, and we must start."</p> + +<p>"I'm ready," said Ned, jumping up. "Skipper, where's my carpet-bag? +I'm going to stay, Noll, just as long as you'll keep me; and now I'm +anxious for a look inside your old dungeon and a peep at that grim +old—that's what the skipper said he was—uncle of yours. Do you think +he'll scold because I've come?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed not!" said Noll; "and Uncle Richard's not so very grim, +either. We'll have splendid times in the old house, and now see if you +aren't sorry when it comes time for you to leave Culm Rock."</p> + +<p>They clambered over the "Gull's" side on to the wharf, and passed +through in the little lane which the fishermen made for them, to the +smooth and shining sand, and so started for the stone house.</p> + +<p>Ned Thorn was a boy of Noll's own age, and much resembled him in +appearance, though, of the two, Ned was a trifle the taller. Indeed, +as Mr. Snape observed, leaning over the rail and smoking his pipe +while he watched the two lads walking briskly homeward,—</p> + +<p>"They're as like as two peas, Ben,—did ye note?—only one's more so +than t'other."</p> + +<p>It seemed to Noll, while on this homeward walk, that nothing was +lacking to make home pleasant, now that Ned had come. His friend's +presence did not seem a reality, as yet, and he had to listen a long +time to Ned's merry chatter before he could realize that it was +actually Ned Thorn who was walking beside him in this purple twilight, +along the shore of the glimmering, sounding sea.</p> + +<p>"What a queer place!" said Ned, stopping, at the curve of the shore, +to look off at the horizon, which seemed to rise higher than their +heads, and turning to look at the dark wall of rock behind them; "and +what a lonesome sound the waves make! I should have died of the blues +in three weeks. And what a miserable set those fishermen are! They all +seem to like you, though. Did you see how they made way for us, and +touched their caps, some of them? What a capital place to fish, off +those rocks! I'm glad I brought hooks and lines, and—What's that +light ahead? A lighthouse?"</p> + +<p>"No, only Hagar's kitchen window," said Noll; "Hagar's our black +cook, and there's only three of us in that great house, Ned!"</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd lose each other! Is your uncle like your father +at all?"</p> + +<p>"No, Uncle Richard's not much like papa," said Noll, with sudden +graveness; "but he loves me, and—and I hope you'll like him, Ned."</p> + +<p>They walked the rest of the way in silence till they came to the +piazza steps under the shadow of the great stone house.</p> + +<p>"It looks just as it did when I saw it first," said Noll,—"the sea +getting dark and shadowy and making that lonesome sound on the +pebbles, and oh, how I had to rap and search before I could find my +way in! But come on, Ned."</p> + +<p>Noll led his friend along the echoing hall, straight to Uncle +Richard's library, where the lamp had been lighted.</p> + +<p>"This is Ned Thorn, Uncle Richard," said he, as they entered, "and +he's come clear from Hastings to see me."</p> + +<p>"Ned is very welcome," said Trafford, who chanced to be in a cheerful +mood, "and if you boys are ready, we will go out to tea."</p> + +<p>Noll ran on before to Hagar's kitchen, where he burst in, +exclaiming,—</p> + +<p>"Another plate and teacup, Hagar! Did you know that we have actually +got company? It's Ned Thorn, a dear friend of mine, and he's from +Hastings, and going to stay—I don't know how long. Will you bring +them? Is tea all ready?"</p> + +<p>"Bress ye!" said Hagar, "I's 'stonished to see ye so 'cited, honey. +I'll bring de dishes in a minnit."</p> + +<p>The old housekeeper followed him back to the dining-room, where the +new-comer was endeavoring to interest Trafford in the account of the +day's journey, telling it in such a sprightly manner that the grim +master was betrayed into more than one smile.</p> + +<p>"And now, Mr. Trafford, I'm going to stay here in this dismal old +house just as long as you'll keep me," said Ned, in conclusion. "And +Noll and I are going to have tip-top good times! I don't know as +there's a thing we can have fun out of, but if there isn't, we'll +invent something. We can fish,—there's one consolation! Why, Mr. +Trafford, what does Noll do with himself, anyhow? I think he's grown +as sober as—as—I don't know what!"</p> + +<p>"Very likely," said Trafford, with a shadow of gloom on his face; +"this is a sober place. Noll has seen much of which you know nothing, +and it has made him graver and more thoughtful, I suppose; yet—"</p> + +<p>"Yet you think he's all the better for that?" said Ned, merrily. +"Well, so do I! Papa always says I'm too much of a rattle-box; but I +can't help it. I couldn't be sober, like Noll, if I should try; and +you wouldn't want me to; would you, old fellow?"</p> + +<p>Noll looked as if he was entirely suited, now, and secretly wondered +what Uncle Richard thought of his merry, light-hearted friend. The +days which followed were happy ones. Trafford recollected that Noll +had had a long winter of study, and granted a vacation to last during +Ned Thorn's stay; so the two boys were at liberty to fish and ramble +and explore rock and sand to their hearts' content. They gathered +basket after basket full of sea flowers and weeds of vivid dye, to be +pressed and packed for transportation to Hastings, and such quantities +of shells, with an occasional pebble of agate or carnelian, that Ned +laughingly declared,—</p> + +<p>"I'll have just all the baggage the 'Gull' can float under, Noll. I'll +have to charter it to convey me and mine; for the skipper won't take +me under any other condition, you may be sure."</p> + +<p>And these days were merry ones too. Hagar declared, "Dat yer Thorn boy +beat eberyt'ing dis ole woman eber seed. 'Peared like ther' was more'n +forty boys racin' up an' down dem yer stairs, an' laughin' at de tops +ob ther voices. Neber seed nuffn like it, nohow! But is ye sorry, +Hagar? Ye knows ye isn't! Ye likes to hear dis yer ole house waked up +an' 'pear as ef 'twas good fur somethin' 'sides holdin' mis'ry."</p> + +<p>Noll more than once trembled lest Uncle Richard should be displeased +at this unusual clamor and mirthfulness, and banish Ned in anger; but +day after day passed, and Trafford made no opposition to the boys' +plans or proceedings, and apparently took quite a fancy to Noll's +friend.</p> + +<p>"I'd just like to coax your uncle into playing a game of ball with +us," said Ned, as the two sat on the piazza one evening at twilight; +"do you suppose he would consent?"</p> + +<p>"Uncle Richard play ball!" exclaimed Noll, laughing at the idea. "No! +I would almost as soon expect to see this old stone house playing at +toss and catch."</p> + +<p>"Well, he <i>is</i> the strangest man!" observed Ned; "but he loves +you,—I can see that, every day,—- and perhaps he'll come out as +bright as a dollar, by and by. And—do you remember?—you was to tell +me about that plan to-night. Go in, Noll dear,—I'm all attention."</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph172" id="glyph172"></a> +<img src="images/fig017.jpg" alt="glyph 17" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph92" id="glyph92"></a> +<img src="images/fig009.jpg" width="400" height="156" alt="glyph 9" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Plans</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgn.jpg" alt="N" title="N" /></div><p>oll looked thoughtfully on the sea a few minutes before he said, "I +don't know what you'll say, Ned, the plan is so difficult; but I've +thought of it a long time,—I believe it's been in my head every day +for the last two months,—and it seems to me it is possible. Oh! if it +<i>were</i>, I'd be the happiest boy in the land!"</p> + +<p>"Well, now what have you got in your head, I'd like to know?" said +Ned; "tell me quickly, for I hate long speeches, you know."</p> + +<p>"Well, in the first place, you must know I want to help those Culm +people, somehow. That's—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," interrupted Ned, "they need 'helping,' I should think! They're +the laziest, miserablest set of people I ever saw. Some of 'em need +'helping' with a good, sound punching,—'twould stir 'em up a little."</p> + +<p>"That's the object of the plan, and the next thing is how to do it," +continued Noll. "If papa had only lived here a little time, I know it +would have been a different place, and I want to make it what he would +have made it; but, though I can't do that, I want to do something."</p> + +<p>"I'll warrant you do!" said Ned, edging nearer his friend. "What do +you think Hagar has told me about your work this winter? You <i>are</i> the +funniest fellow, and I don't see what puts such ideas in your head, +anyhow!—they never get into mine."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll never get to my plan at this rate," said Noll, laughing a +bit. "I don't believe the people will ever be any cleaner or more +industrious till they have better houses to live in, and they're too +poor to buy lumber and make repairs. Now, if I could only accomplish +that, I think they'd soon have some pride in keeping their dwellings +nice and neat, and that would keep the fever away, and perhaps—I +almost <i>know</i>—they'd soon be a different people!"</p> + +<p>"My stars!" exclaimed Ned, "what're you thinking of? Do you really +mean that—that you're going to repair their huts for them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is what I wish to do, and what I've been planning for," +said Noll, peering through the dusk to see how Ned received the +project; "and do you think I'll succeed?—do you think it is +possible?"</p> + +<p>Ned was silent a few seconds, and the low voice of the sea rose and +murmured far up and down the beach-line and died away in a faint +whisper before he replied, "Well, I <i>am</i> astonished! and if any one +else had proposed it, I should say they were out of their wits. Now, +what are those dirty fishermen to you, Noll?"</p> + +<p>"That was not the question," said Noll. "Do you think I can succeed?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know,—can't tell,—it's all so sudden. Where will you get +the money? and why don't your Uncle Richard do the work, instead of +you?"</p> + +<p>"Uncle Richard? why, he—he doesn't care for the Culm people," Noll +was obliged to confess; "but as for the money, I think I can manage +that. You see, he gives me more spending-money every week than I used +to have in a whole quarter,—I showed you all my savings the other +night, you remember,—and it has got to be quite a sum. Then I have +about as much more that Mr. Gray gave me when I came away, and with +this I'll make a commencement. The—"</p> + +<p>"But what will your uncle say? Does he know?" queried Ned.</p> + +<p>"No, he knows nothing about it. But he gave me permission, a long time +ago, to aid the Culm people, and he lets me do as I choose with my +money. So doesn't my plan seem possible?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you can tell where lumber and nails and a carpenter are to +come from," said Ned.</p> + +<p>"Oh! but those will have to come down from Hastings, on the 'Gull,' of +course. There's nothing here to do with," said Noll; "and I mean to +coax Ben Tate to buy the lumber and hire a carpenter for me. You see, +I've got it all planned, and if it will only work!"</p> + +<p>"My stars!" said Ned, "I didn't know you were such a fellow. Why, I +don't wonder these fish-folks all touch their hats to you,—they can +afford to, I think. And, Noll, won't you tell me what these people are +to you? I can't see, for the life of me! And why should you spend all +your money for them?"</p> + +<p>Noll hesitated, not feeling certain that Ned would understand his +reason, if he told him, and, looking up at the stars, which had come +out in great fleets over the sea, was silent. But Ned got up, came to +Noll's end of the step, and, sitting down beside him, said,—</p> + +<p>"Now for your reason! I'm not to be put off at all. Won't you tell +me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you wish very much to know," said Noll, in a lower tone. "I +think everybody has a work to do,—a work that God gives them,—and I +think this is mine, that he has given me. And I promised always to do +his work, and I mean to do it, if I can. Besides," he added, softly +taking Ned's hand in his, "it is work that papa would do if he were +here, and I know that he, too, would be glad to have me do it. +Wouldn't you be anxious to get about it at once, and without waiting +for the Culm people to sink lower, if you thought it was your work +and waiting for your hands? Wouldn't you, Ned?"</p> + +<p>Noll's friend was suddenly silent. It was hardly such a reason as he +had expected to hear, and what to reply he did not know. "Noll always +was the funniest fellow ever since I knew him!" he thought to himself.</p> + +<p>Noll waited, and tried to look into his friend's face, and feared that +Ned did not comprehend his motives, after all. At last he said, "Don't +you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said Ned, quickly, "but I—well—I didn't know what to say, +and, somehow, you make me ashamed. It seems too bad for you to +waste—spend, I mean—your money for those fishermen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Noll, "I've no need of it for myself, and if I had, +they need it more than I. And, Ned, I want to beg you to help me. +Will you?"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! I'd be no help at all!" said Ned; "I'm no good at such +things."</p> + +<p>"But will you try?" said Noll, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you wish. But I'll be sure to bother or make a mess of +something,—see if I don't!"</p> + +<p>At that instant the hall door behind them opened, and Trafford stepped +out. So dark had it grown that he failed, at first, to see the two +figures on the step; but when a little stir of Ned's betrayed them, he +exclaimed, in a tone of great relief,—</p> + +<p>"Ah, here you are, boys! I feared that—that you were up the shore, +perhaps. Come in, come in. Why do you sit here in the darkness?"</p> + +<p>"So I say!" said Ned, briskly, and not regretting this interruption; +"what <i>are</i> we sitting here in the dark for, Noll? Let's go in!"</p> + +<p>As they were groping along their darksome way to the library, Ned +whispered,—</p> + +<p>"When are you going to begin your plan, or 'put it in execution,' as +the books say?"</p> + +<p>"The skipper will touch here to-morrow; I'd like to see him then," +said Noll.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" returned Ned. "We can get up early and run over to Culm +before breakfast, and coax Ben into doing the business for you."</p> + +<p>"We will!" said Noll, gladly, "and have the work begun at once; and I +knew you'd be willing to help. Oh, Ned, I wish you were to stay here +always."</p> + +<p>The boys did not linger long in the library after arriving there, but +went up to Noll's chamber, where his little hoard of money was +brought forth and counted. Neither of the lads knew how far it would +go toward purchasing lumber, but to them the sum in hand seemed a +large one, and they decided, after much deliberation, to place it in +Ben's hands, and trust to his judgment and discretion.</p> + +<p>"But how is the carpenter to be paid for his labor, if this all goes +for lumber?" queried Ned.</p> + +<p>"Why, my spending-money is accumulating all the time," said Noll, "and +though that won't be enough, I'll manage to get the rest, somehow. +I'll write to Mr. Gray, or do something that will bring it."</p> + +<p>They were both up at the first glimmer of dawn the next morning, and +on their way to Culm long before the mist had fled from off the face +of the sea. They ran, and made all possible haste, and were only just +in time after all; for Ben was about to stand out on the day's journey +as they came panting and breathless on to the little wharf.</p> + +<p>"What be wantin' now, lads?" he cried, gruffly; "we be in a hurry to +get off!"</p> + +<p>"But you must wait a few minutes," said Ned, "for we want to come +aboard, skipper. We can't run a mile for nothing, and before breakfast +too."</p> + +<p>"S'pose I shall hev ter!" grumbled Ben, as he gave them each a hand to +help them up.</p> + +<p>Noll brought forth his roll of money, and narrated his errand, +disclosing for what object the lumber was to be purchased. Ben sat +down and stared blankly at the boy, while Mr. Snape, who had drawn +near, looked utterly bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Let me hear ye say that agen," said Ben, when his scattered senses +began to return; "I think I did not hear ye rightly."</p> + +<p>Noll repeated his errand, aided by some impatient explanations which +Ned threw in for the skipper's benefit.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the "Gull's" master, as he concluded, "I be beat! Why, +lad, 'tw'u'd be like throwin' yer silver into the sea to spend it on +them good-fur-nothin', shif'less critters. An' what be the like o' +them to you?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said Ned, coming to Noll's relief, "he want's to do them good. +Can't you see through a ladder, Ben? And what we want to know is +whether you will do the business?"</p> + +<p>The skipper was silent for a time. What was passing in his mind, the +boys did not suspect, and they feared lest he should refuse. But +presently he got up, saying, with gruffness which was assumed to hide +a sudden tenderness in the old sailor's heart,—</p> + +<p>"I ken do't fur ye, lad, I s'pose!—tho' I call ye foolish all the +same. The 'Gull' be engaged fur the next run, but the next arter that +ye shall hev yer boards an' yer carpenter."</p> + +<p>"That will be week after next," said Ned. "Hurrah for you, Ben! And I +want to engage a passage home for next week. Come, Noll, let's go back +and let the skipper put out, if he's in such a hurry. A good voyage to +you, Ben!—and don't you forget that I'm to go next week, now!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said Ben, "get along with you!" and over the side went the +boys, and, after a little delay, off went the "Gull" with Noll's +precious savings on board.</p> + +<p>"Wait," said Noll, as they left the wharf, "there's Dirk Sharp out +there with his boat, ready to put off. Wait here, Ned, till I've +spoken with him." And Noll ran off across the sand.</p> + +<p>Ned sat down on the wharf and watched his friend and the fisherman. +They were sufficiently near for him to note the expressions upon their +faces, and when he saw the blank look of wonder and incredulity that +suddenly came over Dirk's coarse features, he suspected that Noll was +disclosing his project.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Noll <i>is</i> a queer fellow," he said to himself. "How can he +care for these dirty, dull-witted fellows that can't spell their own +names, when he is so smart and such a long, long way above them?"</p> + +<p>But Noll, he remembered, had answered this question on the previous +evening; yet Ned could hardly comprehend such motives, and so sat +puzzling his head over it till his friend came back with a pleased and +happy face, to say,—</p> + +<p>"I'm ready now. You should have seen Dirk when I told what was going +to be done! The great fellow almost cried before I could finish; and +he's promised to aid me in a dozen ways, at least, and promised, oh! +so much besides. And it seems as if I'll be the happiest boy in the +world when once things are under way."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you will be," said Ned, with something like a sigh, "and I +wish I could stay and see how the huts'll look after you've done with +them. However," he added, brightly, "I can come again +sometime,—there's one consolation."</p> + +<p>The fair spring days went on with the speed with which all happy days +fly by, and little by little the Culm people began to talk among +themselves of the—to them—great event which was to take place so +soon. Noll overheard one old fish-wife say, "We ben't slick 'nough for +new housen; ther'll hev to be great scrubbin' an' scourin' that day, +eh, Janet?" to her slatternly daughter-in-law; and the boy mentally +prayed that this opinion would gain ground among all the fish-folk. If +there was only some one to teach the children, and save them from the +utter ignorance which was their parents', there would be great hope +for Culm, he thought.</p> + +<p>Ned Thorn went home, and this was the only sad day which Noll knew +during the two weeks' waiting. He could not bid Ned good-by and see +the dear, merry face fade away, as the "Gull" departed, without a +great choking in his throat and a heaviness of heart that made one day +a lonely, homesick one.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph42" id="glyph42"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 4" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph123" id="glyph123"></a> +<img src="images/fig012.jpg" width="400" height="157" alt="glyph 12" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Work Begun</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgy.jpg" alt="Y" title="Y" /></div><p>ou may be sure that Noll did not fail to be at Culm village when the +"Gull" and its precious freight arrived. The sky had been overcast all +day and the sea somewhat rough, so that he was not certain that Ben +would set sail from Hastings. But about half-past four in the +afternoon the white wings of the skipper's craft hovered on the +horizon, and soon after began to loom into shape and proportion. Noll +first descried the welcome sight while standing on the piazza steps, +anxiously surveying the sea and sky. A strong and vigorous breeze bore +the "Gull" rapidly before it, and it was soon evident that it would +arrive at the wharf before himself, unless he started soon. +Recitations were over an hour ago, and he was now at liberty to go +where he chose, and accordingly started for Culm at once. He arrived +there some time before Ben and his craft, after all, and was forced to +sit and wait impatiently. He could see the yellow lumber long enough +before the "Gull" was in hailing distance, and knew that Ben had been +successful.</p> + +<p>The skipper came alongside at last, shouting at the top of his voice, +"Ahoy, there, men! Give us a hand at this 'ere lumber, an' be spry +about it, fur there's a storm brewin', an' I've got ter be twenty mile +down the coast afore it breaks!"</p> + +<p>The fishermen drew near at this summons, and as soon as the "Gull" was +fast, they began to unload the cargo, under the carpenter's +directions. It was carried well up the sand to preserve it from the +dash of the sea and the treachery of the tide, and Noll stood looking +on with a heart so full of joy and satisfaction that he forgot all +about the skipper till a gruff voice cried, "Why don't ye come aboard, +lad? Here be sumat fur ye that come from the city. It be a mighty +thick letter, somehow. Give us yer hand an' come up, lad!"</p> + +<p>Noll got aboard quickly enough after this intelligence, and took the +packet which the skipper fished out from under his pea-jacket, +saying, "I wonder if it can be from Ned?"</p> + +<p>"How ken I tell?" said Ben, evasively. "Best open it, lad,—best open +it."</p> + +<p>Noll quickly had the envelope open, and, holding the packet upside +down, there fell out upon the deck a thick little wad of bank-notes, +which the wind threatened to take off into the sea before the boy's +astonished senses returned to him. Ben prevented such a disaster, +however, by picking up the roll and placing it in Noll's hand, with, +"It's worth savin', lad, fur 'tain't every bush that grows sech +blossoms, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I should think not," said Noll, still full of amazement, and +hurriedly opened his letter to see where this bounty hailed from, +while Ben walked off to assist in his craft's unlading. This is what +Noll's wondering eyes found:—</p> + + +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">"<span class="smcap">Hastings</span>, May 20th.</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"<span class="smcap">Dear Noll</span>,—I can imagine just how your eyes are staring by</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">this time; but you needn't be alarmed, for I came by the</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">money honestly. This is how it was: Papa said I might have a</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">new pony if I would save my spending-money till I got a</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">third of the sum which one would cost, and so, though I</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">didn't hint of it to you when I was down at Culm, I've been</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">laying up and laying up, like an old miser; and last Monday</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">morning I found that I had got the sum, and so papa made up</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">the rest to me. But when I thought of you and those</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">miserable Culm people, and how you were making a fool of</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">yourself (as Ben T. said), I thought I'd like to—to—well,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">let pony go, and help you a bit. So here's the whole sum (if</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">you get it safe), and you're just as welcome as you can be,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">and don't you make any fuss about it, for it's your own, and</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">I can go without spending-money if you can, and am willing</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">to too. And it's no great denial, either, for the pony'll</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">come sometime, I'm quite sure. So don't you worry any more</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">about how the carpenter is to be paid. Good-by, dear old</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">fellow,</span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 17em;">"<span class="smcap">Ned Thorn.</span></span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">"P.S.—I was just as dismal as I could be after I got home,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">longing to go back to that dreary, dismal, good-for-nothing</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Culm Rock. The shells, etc., got here all right. Give my</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">respects to Uncle Richard, and tell him I'll come down and</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">turn his house topsy-turvy for him again next summer, if he</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">wants me to. Don't you forget to send a letter back by Ben,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">now."</span><br /> + + +<p>Noll finished this characteristic letter with something very like +tears in his eyes. "The dear, generous fellow!" he thought to himself; +"how could he ever bring himself to do it? for it <i>is</i> a denial, +because Ned is <i>so</i> fond of a horse! And he claimed, all the time, +that he never could help at all!"</p> + +<p>Ben came stumping along the deck with his gruff, "Well, we hev brought +yer lumber an' yer carpenter, lad,—both on 'em the best I c'u'd find. +One's 'bout stacked up on the sand, yender, and t'other'll be waitin' +fur yer orders purty soon. He's good at his trade, John Sampson be, +an' he'll do fair an' square by ye. John ben't delicate neither, an' +won't mind the livin' he'll get 'mongst these 'ere +good-fur-nothin's,—I looked out fur that, ye see."</p> + +<p>"I thank you more than I can tell, Ben," said Noll, taking the +skipper's hand; "and have you taken your pay for the freight and all +the trouble?"</p> + +<p>"The freight be paid fur," said Ben, "an' the trouble likewise. An' ef +ye hev anythin' more fur the 'Gull' ter do, don't ye be backward, boy, +about lettin' her know't."</p> + +<p>The last of the lumber was now being dragged up the sand, and the +skipper hurried away, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Luck ter ye an' yer undertakin', lad! We be in a desput hurry to get +off, fur we'd stan' a poor chance on this shore in a storm."</p> + +<p>Noll wished the skipper a safe run to a better harbor, and went back +to the wharf, where the carpenter intercepted him. He was a rough, +blunt-spoken man, but was evidently "good at his trade," as Ben had +said, and did not despair of making the Culm huts decent and +habitable; and after a long talk with him, Noll started for home, as +the afternoon was fast giving way to a gray and lowery night. His +heart was full of gratitude and love to Ned, and he stopped more than +once on his homeward walk to read the letter over by the gray glimmer +of twilight. At first he was more than half resolved to return the +money, and bid his friend to buy the pony,—it seemed such a great +denial for horse-loving, mirthful Ned to make,—but as he read the +letter again and again, and pondered over its contents, he began to +think that his friend had more earnestness and love for kind-doing +than he had ever suspected.</p> + +<p>"I wronged the poor fellow," he thought to himself, "because he was +so merry and careless all the time. And now he's sent me this great +roll of bills to help those people whom he pretended to hate! Oh, I +wonder if it is best to keep them?"</p> + +<p>This question was not decided then. It took more than one day's +thought about the matter before he at last concluded to accept Ned's +bounty, and perhaps he would not have decided thus at all if he had +been quite sure that his friend would not be greatly grieved and +offended at having the money returned.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the carpenter commenced operations. Dirk's house was the +first to undergo repairs, and Noll took every opportunity to go over +to Culm to see how matters were progressing. It was a great delight to +him to watch John Sampson at his labor, and note how saw and hammer +and plane, guided by his strong and skilful hand, repaired the rents, +brought the shackling doors and windows to comfortable tightness, made +the crooked and twisted roofs to assume something like straight and +even proportions, and righted matters generally. When Dirk's +habitation was thoroughly repaired, it was the wonder and admiration +of all the Culm people.</p> + +<p>"It be like what it was when I was a gal, an' all the housen was new," +said one old fish-wife, who had tottered in with the others.</p> + +<p>"Ay, mother," said Dirk, "an' it be time we had new habits to go with +the new housen, eh?"</p> + +<p>Noll had not allowed any good opportunities, wherein he might hint to +Dirk that cleanliness and industry should reign in the snug new +quarters, to pass without improving them. Dirk, out of regard and +gratitude to "the young master," as he called him, was willing to make +the attempt, and strove, in his bungling way, to impress his neighbors +with the fact that they were expected to reform their way of living. +But it was up-hill work for people who had lived all their life in +filth and wretchedness, and progressed but slowly. Many were the +hours, after the recitations were over, that Noll spent over at the +little village those warm days, planning with John Sampson about +broken doors and shattered beams, which were to be made strong and +serviceable, or, sitting on a pile of lumber, watching the carpenter +as he put in execution the plans which they had made. The children of +the village were generally playing near by, in the sand, with blocks +and chips,—growing up as unlettered and ignorant as their parents. +Some of them were great boys and girls,—almost as tall as Noll +himself,—and had never yet seen the inside of a book.</p> + +<p>"If Uncle Richard would only hire a teacher," thought Noll, "and have +them grow up with some knowledge in their heads, they'd never get so +low and wretched as their parents. But that never'll be, I'm afraid. +Oh! if I were only rich, how quick I'd change it all!"</p> + +<p>But there was no prospect of any such fortune befalling him, and he +usually turned away from the cluster of dirty, unkempt children with a +hopeless sigh. He said, one day, while sitting on a great heap of +shingles beside the carpenter,—</p> + +<p>"What's to become of all these children, Mr. Sampson? Will they be +left to grow up like their fathers and mothers?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see much to hinder," said the carpenter, with a glance +at the dirty little ones who were throwing sand over their heads. +"Don't think you'll ever see many lawyers and ministers out o' the +lot."</p> + +<p>"If there could only be a school here," continued Noll, "what a change +it would make! But there's no teacher, no schoolroom, no nothing, and +no prospect of there ever being anything!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you teach 'em yourself?" said Sampson, between the +creakings and rasping of his saw.</p> + +<p>Noll was silent for a few minutes before he answered, "Why, to tell +the truth, I never had thought of the thing. But how can I? I don't +have any time till after four o'clock."</p> + +<p>The carpenter sawed and planed, and made no reply, being entirely +indifferent to the whole matter; but his chance question had put an +idea in Noll's head which was not out of it for that afternoon, at +least. Could he teach those idle, ignorant children? he wondered. +Would they ever sit still long enough to look in a book? And where +could a room for the school be found? And where was the leisure time +to come from? Noll pondered over these questions many days, and +several times came near discarding the plan as impracticable. He knew +that he could only have the time after recitations were over for his +own, and that, at the most, would be only an hour or two,—the time +between four o'clock and the supper-hour. He was quite sure that he +was willing to give this time to the Culm children, if it would do any +good, and if a room could be found for them to assemble in. A whole +week of days went by before he mentioned this plan to any one, and +then it was only Dirk to whom he mentioned it. The rough fisherman +looked upon reading and writing as some of the wonderful and +mysterious arts to which dull and humble people like himself had no +right. He looked blank and mystified at Noll's proposition, and +expressed himself thus:—</p> + +<p>"I don' know, I don' know, lad,—we but poor folk anyway. But ye ken +do as ye like, an' ef ye say so, the youngsters shall take ter books +an' sech, an' ye ken hev a room where ye say, I'll say fur't. I don' +know, I don' know, lad; ye mus' do as ye think it best, anyway."</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph182" id="glyph182"></a> +<img src="images/fig018.jpg" alt="glyph 18" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Work Progressing</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgs.jpg" alt="S" title="S" /></div><p>tudies at home progressed steadily under Uncle Richard's supervision, +meanwhile, and that grim gentleman found much more pleasure and +satisfaction in directing his nephew's tasks than he would have been +willing to acknowledge. The boy brought so much brightness and +pleasant life into the gloomy stone house that the stern master, as +week after week passed by, visibly began to lose something of his +grimness and gloominess, and to take something like a faint interest +in what was passing around him. And, after a time, he himself began to +be sensible of this gradual change which was stealing over his +thoughts and actions, and, vexed with himself, strove to check these +new emotions, and wrap himself again in the cloak of sadness and +melancholy which so long had shielded him from everything bright and +cheerful and happy. But he found it hardly an easy task. Noll was +almost always blithe and light-hearted, and Trafford found his bright +influence a hard one to struggle against. He loved the boy so well +that it was almost an impossibility to harden his heart to all his +winning ways and pleasant talk, which met him so constantly, and +these summer days, which Noll found such delight in, were days of +struggle and wavering to his uncle. He could not but acknowledge to +himself that he was interested in all the boy's plans for the +future,—all his youthful anticipations of happiness and success,—all +his present little projects for progress and self-improvement,—and +these matters, trivial though they may have been, gradually drew his +thoughts from himself and his sorrow, put them farther and farther +away into the dimness and silence of the past, and made the present a +more vivid and earnest reality. Was it any wonder that, seeing he +could not maintain his gloom and grimness in Noll's sunshine, and +finding it slipping away from him in spite of his endeavors to retain +it, he should astonish his nephew by strange fits of moroseness, +alternating with the utmost kindness and indulgence?</p> + +<p>The boy sometimes fancied that his uncle had grown to utterly dislike +him,—being so irritable and unjust at times; then again his heart was +light with joy and hope, for he fancied that the grim man was just on +the point of losing his great burden of gloom, and becoming hopeful +and unoppressed. But how could he be hopeful for whom there was no +hope?—who refused to trust in God's promises?—for whom the shadow of +the grave was utter darkness and horror, wherein dear faces had +vanished—forever?</p> + +<p>One day Noll had begged him to come out for a walk on the beach, +thinking he would lead his uncle on and on till they should come out +upon Culm village, and in this manner disclose what he had been doing +for the dwellings and their inmates.</p> + +<p>Trafford at first appeared inclined to consent, and followed his +nephew out as far as the piazza steps, but here he stopped, and all +Noll's entreaties could not prevail upon him to go further. He sat +down, looking dispiritedly across the tranquil sea, all warm and fair +with changing lights, and down at his feet at the bit of verdure which +Noll had caused to flourish by dint of much seed-sowing and watering, +saying, "No, I've no part in it all. I'll go no further."</p> + +<p>So Noll was obliged to set off for Culm alone, consoling himself with +the thought that next time, perhaps, he should be so successful as to +get Uncle Richard a little farther, and next time a little way farther +still, till, at last, they might walk together as uncle and nephew +should. Would that happy day ever come? he wondered.</p> + +<p>At last, after many delays and hindrances, the plan of a school was +decided upon. Noll did not begin the undertaking with much confidence +of success, or with any great hope of making the Culm children very +bright or vigorous scholars; but it would be something toward +supplying the great want, he thought, and who could tell what this +little beginning might lead to? So, about half-past four one misty, +lowery afternoon, he found himself in a little room in Dirk's +dwelling, with ten dirty-faced, frowsy-headed children huddled +together in one corner, each of them regarding him with wide-open +eyes, and apparently without the remotest idea what they were there +for. The only furniture which the "schoolroom" could boast were two +rough benches, just from John Sampson's hands, and a three-legged +stool, which Noll appropriated to himself. Of course none of the ten +had anything in the shape of books or primers, and here the boy had +reason to rejoice that all his old school-books had made the journey +with himself to Culm.</p> + +<p>After getting the wondering assemblage seated in proper order, Noll +began by asking, "Who wants to learn to read?"</p> + +<p>It seemed as if the sound of his voice had wrought a spell, for each +of the ten were as silent as so many mutes.</p> + +<p>"Who would like to know how to read?" Noll repeated.</p> + +<p>Still a long silence, most discouraging to the teacher. At last—the +sound of his voice a most welcome one to Noll—a little fellow, who +sat on the end of one of the benches, ventured to query, "What be +'read'?"</p> + +<p>"Well," thought the would-be teacher, "I've got to explain what 'read' +is before they'll know whether they fancy it, to be sure! I didn't +think of that."</p> + +<p>Among his books was a great primer, with painted letters and pictures, +and bringing this forth, he gathered the ten around him, and used all +his powers of description and story-telling to endeavor to awaken the +slumbering interest of these unpromising pupils. It was a weary hour's +work. A few of them betrayed a slight curiosity in regard to the +bright colors, which Noll endeavored to stimulate; but it soon died +out, and all looked on and listened with listless attention. They +appeared much more inclined to stand with their fingers in their +mouths, and gaze steadfastly into Noll's face, than to put eyes on the +book.</p> + +<p>"If I had the alphabet stamped upon my face, I believe they'd learn +it easily enough!" he thought to himself, in despair, as, on looking +up, he found the whole ten staring in his face, instead of having had +their eyes upon the primer during his long explanation. As a last +resort, he stepped out upon the sand in front of the door, and there +drew a great A.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he, "see which of you can make a letter like that. Take a +stick and try, every one of you. Look sharp, and make it just like the +one I've made."</p> + +<p>Thereupon, there was a great searching for sticks, and when all the +little ones had been supplied, there was a great scratching and +marking in the sand. To Noll's great delight, the result was two or +three tolerable A's, which were allowed to stand, and the rest were +brushed away. Then a new attempt at making the wonderful symbol +ensued, and added another to the successful list, and so the +letter-making was kept up till all the pupils had succeeded in making +a tolerably faithful representation of the letter. Noll began to take +heart. What the children cared nothing for, when seen in the book, +they were apparently delighted to draw on the sand, and soon learned +to give the proper pronunciation of the character. The night came on +apace, and Noll began to perceive that it was time for him to be on +his homeward way.</p> + +<p>"Remember," he said to his pupils, who were scratching A's all about +the door, "you're not to forget this while I'm gone. To-morrow +afternoon I'll come again, and then I shall want to see you make it +over, and you are to have a new letter, besides. Will you all be +here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! yes!" one after another promised; and, once more bidding them +remember, Noll walked away,—the children still making the mysterious +character along the beach, and keeping it up till darkness came over +sea and land.</p> + +<p>"Only one letter!" Noll said to himself, as he hurried homeward. "Why, +that's not a tenth of what I meant to do this afternoon! What dull +wits they've got! and will they ever, ever learn the whole alphabet?" +The prospect did not seem very encouraging, and he was obliged to +confess himself disappointed with the result of the first day's +lesson. "However, one can't tell much by the first afternoon," he +thought. "Perhaps they'll be quicker and brighter when we're better +acquainted."</p> + +<p>The next afternoon he arrived at Dirk's house at the appointed time, +and found not ten, but twelve awaiting him, sticks in hand, and all +eager for the lesson to commence. Noll could not refrain from laughing +at the sight which the sand directly in front of the house presented, +covered as it was with A's of all shapes and sizes. It looked much as +if a great bird, with a peculiarly-constructed foot, had been walking +there. He did not need to be assured that his pupils had all +remembered yesterday's lesson, and proceeded at once to instruct them +in the art of making B. This the young learners of the alphabet found +to be somewhat more difficult of execution, but appeared to like it +none the less on that account, and, after its curves were mastered, +were much delighted with this acquisition to their stock of +accomplishments.</p> + +<p>While this second lesson was yet in progress, Dirk and one or two +other fishermen came up from their boats, and stopped to look on, with +wonder and astonishment written on their countenances.</p> + +<p>"I don' know," said Dirk, shaking his head as he eyed the mystic +characters traced before him; "we be all poor folk, anyhow, an' this +do beat me! Why, what be this?" he exclaimed, pointing at a letter +staring up at him from the sand at his feet.</p> + +<p>"That be A!" said half a dozen voices at once.</p> + +<p>"An' what be this?" said Hark Darby, pointing to a character by his +feet.</p> + +<p>"That be B!" chorused the voices again.</p> + +<p>The two fishermen exchanged wondering glances. "That do beat me!" said +poor Dirk, regarding the letters before him with much awe. "Ah, lad," +turning to Noll, "my little gal w'u'd liked yer teaching, an' yer B's +an' A's, eh?" and Dirk drew his hand across his eyes.</p> + +<p>Noll went home much encouraged after this second alphabet lesson. Time +and patience would do something for these Culm children, after all, he +thought. And could he have the patience and skill which was necessary? +"I'll try,—I'll try hard for it!" he thought, "and pray Christ to +keep me from losing my patience and courage. It's his work, and he'll +help me to teach them, and by winter there'll be something +accomplished." And of his help he had great need, for patience and +courage were often sorely tried in the days which followed, and it was +not always his pupils' obtuseness which brought the greatest strain to +bear upon them. One old fish-wife, the oldest woman in the village, +had regarded the whole plan of teaching the children as suspicious and +ill-omened.</p> + +<p>"It be a bad day fur us, lads," she warned, standing on Dirk's +door-step among the fishermen, and looking frowningly upon Noll as he +instructed his pupils in the making of U. "It be no good fur yer chile +to be ther', Hark Darby, learnin' ye don' know what! Yes, lads, I say +it be an evil day, and ye'll find no good cum from it! I warn ye, I +warn ye!" shaking her skinny forefinger and solemnly nodding her head. +Noll's face flushed at these words, and he half resolved to go home, +and leave these Culm children to their parents' ignorance.</p> + +<p>"I warn ye! I—" The old crone was about to continue her forebodings; +but Dirk interposed with a gruff, "Hush ye, hush ye, Mother Deb! ye +be doin' the lad wrong. D'ye think he be one to teach our young uns +wrong, eh? Be it evil, think ye? W'u'd he be doin' us a bad turn who's +mendin' the housen an' makin' us comf'table? I'd like ye ter show't, +mother, ef it be!"</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Hark Darby, "an' ef he ken do us evil, who ha' been so good +an' kind in the sickness, we w'u'd like ye ter show't, Mother Deb!"</p> + +<p>The old woman said no more, but went muttering homeward, not all +convinced that Noll was not teaching the children some evil, +mysterious art.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph124" id="glyph124"></a> +<img src="images/fig012.jpg" alt="glyph 12" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Work Finished</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he days went by,—busy enough for Noll with lessons and the afternoon +lesson at Culm,—and John Sampson's labors began to draw to a close. +The carpenter had worked steadily and faithfully, and the result was a +gratifying one to more than one person. True, the houses were not +models of elegance; that was not needed; and they <i>did</i> look somewhat +patchy, with here and there a fresh new board over the old +weather-beaten gray of the dwelling, and new doors staring blank and +yellow out of the dinginess of their surroundings; but, if they were +not handsome, they were thoroughly repaired and now stood warmer and +more comfortable than any of the present generation of Culm people had +ever known them.</p> + +<p>If they could only have a coat of paint or whitewash to make them look +fresh and cheerful, what an improvement it would be! Noll thought. How +the sun would gleam upon them with his last ruddy rays as he sank into +the sea! How fair and pleasant they would look from the sea, when the +coast first came upon the mariner's vision! It would be one bright +spot against the black background of the Rock,—those twelve +houses,—if only they might have a coat of fresh white paint. But +after counting his stock of money, this desire was obliged to remain +ungratified; for there was the carpenter's bill, which would shortly +be due, and must be paid upon the completion of the work.</p> + +<p>"The houses must wait till—till another year," Noll thought, with +something like a sigh; "they can wait, after all, for the painting +isn't really necessary, though it would improve them wonderfully! And +I'm thankful enough that I can pay the carpenter. Oh, but I wonder if +Ned ever regrets his denial, and longs for the pony?"</p> + +<p>Letters came down from Ned Thorn with almost every trip of the "Gull," +but not a word about the pony did they contain, nor the least sentence +which Noll could interpret to mean a sigh or regret for the pet which +he had given up. If Ned felt any regret, it was all carefully hidden +from his friend's observation, and the missives, which Noll received +through the skipper's kindness, were fairly bubbling over with the +briskness and bright spirits of Ned's light heart.</p> + +<p>"If they should stop coming, I don't know how I <i>could</i> manage," +thought Noll; "I'm afraid Culm Rock would grow dreadfully lonesome and +dreary." It was always, "And how do you get on with your plan?—and +are the houses 'most finished?" or, "Have you got those Culm savages +almost civilized, you dear old Noll?—and does Uncle Richard know +anything about it yet? Won't he stare! and what do you suppose he'll +say?" or, "Oh, now I think of it, how many scholars in Latin have you +got down there? and how do they manage with their Greek? And are you +putting on airs because you've got to be a pedagogue? And how much is +the tuition a term?—because, you see, I've some idea of going away to +boarding-school, and yours might suit me, if the charges aren't too +high." And the whole generally concluded with, "P. S.—I don't mean a +word of all that last I've written, my dear Noll, and you're not to +think so. How does the money hold out? Don't fail to let me know if +you're in a tight place, and I'll try to get a few dollars somehow. +And hurry up and answer this letter by return steamer (what should we +do if the old 'Gull' went to the bottom?), and so good-night," etc., +etc.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Noll expected a great deal too much of the Culm people when he +looked to see them give up their filthy and slovenly habits at once, +after getting fairly settled again in their whole and comfortable +abodes. If he really expected to see this, he was disappointed. People +do not follow a habit for the best part of a lifetime, to give it up +suddenly and at once, even when gratitude and a sense of their +short-coming are both urging them to do so. So he was obliged to +content himself with some few faint evidences of thrift, and a desire +to do better, on the part of those whom he had befriended, and wait +patiently for the rest.</p> + +<p>Dirk's household improved somewhat. Dirk was the most intelligent of +the fishermen, and began to dimly perceive that it was much better and +pleasanter to live cleanly and neatly than to pattern his household +arrangements after the beasts of the field. He was, moreover, strongly +actuated to reform his way of living by his deep, strong sense of +gratitude to Noll, which led him to endeavor to accomplish whatever +the boy suggested. It gave the stalwart fisherman something like a +feeling of shame to see the lad—bright, fresh, and ruddy—enter his +dirty and smoke-begrimed hovel and hardly be able to find himself a +seat among the litter of old nets, broken chairs, household utensils, +and all conceivable kinds of rubbish which strewed the floors and +filled the corners.</p> + +<p>"It be a shame," Dirk said to his wife, after Noll had gone, one day, +"that the lad hev ter stan' up, an' ben't able ter find a seat, nohow. +I tell ye it be a shame, woman!"</p> + +<p>"Ye might mend the chairs a bit, man!" retorted Mrs. Sharp. "I'll +warrant the lad be able ter find a seat then."</p> + +<p>Dirk was sulky for a while after this, but saw that there could be +nothing to sit upon so long as the chairs were for the most part +legless, and at last got energy enough to mend them after a rude +fashion. Then another place was found for the old nets besides the two +corners by the fireplace, and when these had been removed, Mrs. Sharp +took her broom and—well, it was not exactly sweeping, for the woman +had not much idea of what a good housekeeper would call sweeping, but +it was a feeble attempt at cleanliness, and she really thought she had +made a great exertion, and was certainly proud of the achievement. +Dirk chanced to be at home when Noll came again, and the flash of +surprise and pleasure which swept over the boy's face as he entered +and noted the change which had taken place since his last call pleased +Dirk amazingly.</p> + +<p>"Here be a seat fur ye, lad," he said, not without some pride in his +tone, as he brought forward a rough three-legged block and placed it +for his visitor. A faint stir of worthy ambition having slightly +roused Dirk and his wife, they were hardly contented to allow matters +to remain as they were. Mrs. Sharp once more took her broom, and used +it with rather better effect. Dirk made an onslaught upon the rubbish +which had been collecting in their kitchen and about the doorsteps for +years, and which no one had had the energy to remove, and threw many a +basketful into the sea.</p> + +<p>The neighbors, meanwhile, were not entirely insensible to the fact +that Dirk's house began to present—both within and without—a much +more cleanly and respectable appearance than their own. They stopped +at the door to look in and say, "La, ye be slickin' up finely, Dirk!" +or, "Ye be gittin' fine ways, lately, man. An' what be all this fur?"</p> + +<p>"Why," Dirk would answer, "I be 'shamed of livin' like a beast, man. +An' the young master be wishin' us to hev cleaner housen an' slicker, +an' I be willin' to do't ef he wish, now! He be a good lad to mend our +housen so finely, and w'u'd ye think I ben't willin' to do his wish?"</p> + +<p>Noll was greatly encouraged at these signs of improvement, and +mentally rejoiced, hoping to see this new ambition spread till the +whole twelve houses were reclaimed from their present filth and +wretchedness.</p> + +<p>The carpenter's work came to an end at last,—his labor all plain and +visible to every eye in patched walls, roofs, mended doors and +windows, and the general look of repair about the whole line of what +were once but the poorest of shelters. Sampson's task had been a hard +and bothersome one,—"Couldn't ha' got another man to teched it," the +skipper said,—and Noll expected, as he walked around to Culm one +afternoon with his roll of bills to pay the carpenter, that the bill +would be a large one,—perhaps even more than Ned's generous bounty +and his own amount of spending-money, saved since the lumber was +purchased, could meet. He found Sampson packing up his tools,—he was +to leave on the "Gull" the next morning,—with the bill all ready, +added up and written out on a bit of smooth shingle. It proved to be +five dollars less than the sum which Noll held in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I swun!" said Sampson, roughly, as he counted over the bills which +the boy placed in his hands, "I told the skipper, comin' down, that +you was a born fool to be layin' out your money in this style. Now, +I've been thinkin' on't over all the while I've been hammerin' and +sawin', and I can't make out, to save my neck, how you're goin' to get +any return from this 'ere investment. 'Tain't payin' property, I +should judge," said the carpenter, looking up and down the beach.</p> + +<p>"Of course I don't expect to get any money back from it," said Noll, +laughing a little at the idea. "It was to help these fish-folk and to +try and make them more comfortable that I did it."</p> + +<p>Sampson put the roll of bills away in his capacious purse, remarking, +"Well, you're a queer un. I did the job right well, though, if I do +say it, and I ha'n't charged very steep for it, neither. Couldn't do +it, somehow!—went too much against the grain. And—well, can't you +shake hands over it? You're a tip-top paymaster, and if you want +anything done, I'll come and do it, if I'm in China—there! Don't you +lay out another cent on this settlement, though,—'tain't worth it."</p> + +<p>Noll did not promise to take this advice, and started homeward, +Sampson calling after him, "Good-by, good-by, lad! Hope you'll get +some return from this 'ere investment!"</p> + +<p>So the work was done, and a glad and happy letter went over the sea to +Hastings, telling Ned Thorn that the labor was accomplished, and the +houses all as whole and comfortable as when new, and that the people +were actually beginning to show a little thrift and ambition; and +saying, among other things, "I send you back five dollars that were +left,—so you can begin to save your money again for that pony. And, +oh! Ned, I don't think you can know how much good that money did! +Perhaps you never will know (it must seem to you almost like throwing +it away, because you are where you cannot see any result from it), and +I felt, at first, as if you ought not to make the denial; but, +somehow, I'm very glad, now, and I shall always feel sure that if you +<i>do</i> make fun and pretend to laugh at a plan, you're all the time +meaning to 'give it a lift,' as you say. And, oh! Ned, I believe I'm +one of the happiest boys in the world! and I'm sure Uncle Richard has +changed a great deal since last spring, when you were here, for he's +got over being cross and gloomy, and actually asked me yesterday +where I spent so much of my time. I'm going, if I can, to persuade him +to take a walk with me, one of these afternoons, and so bring him +around to the new houses. Wouldn't you like to be here to see us then? +As for my school, it flourishes a little. There are still twelve +scholars, and all but four have got through with their sand letters, +and are at work at their 'a-b, ab,' and 'b-a, ba.' They'll get into +spelling-books, sometime. Now, I'll end this long letter with telling +you once more that you can't know how much good your money has done +and will do, and say,</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;">Good-night,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10.5em;"><span class="smcap">Noll Trafford</span>."</span><br /> + +<p>Noll did not lose sight for a moment of his plan to persuade Uncle +Richard to take a walk with him. It filled his thoughts all the +pleasant days that followed after Mr. Sampson's departure, and several +times he hinted very broadly to his uncle that it was "a splendid +afternoon for a walk! the beach is hard as a floor, and the tide out." +But Trafford was oblivious to all hints, and at last, on one warm, +balmy, cloudless afternoon, Noll thought, "It is now, or never! I'll +ask him at once." And straightway he started for the library, where he +knew his uncle sat reading.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph1b" id="glyph1b"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 1" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph202" id="glyph202"></a> +<img src="images/fig020.jpg" width="400" height="162" alt="glyph 20" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Happy Walk</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>rafford looked up from his books as his nephew entered, and greeted +him with a smile. Noll thought this welcome portended good, and +remembered, with a grateful thrill in his heart, that Uncle Richard +had fallen into the habit of greeting him thus of late. He went up to +the reader's chair, and without waiting for his courage to cool, laid +a hand on the reader's arm, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Uncle Richard, I've come to ask a great favor of you. Do you think +you'll grant it? Can't you guess what it is?"</p> + +<p>Trafford did not reply at once, but sat looking steadfastly into his +nephew's face, his eyes wearing the dreamy, far-away look which +lingered in them much of late, and it was not until Noll had repeated +his question that he replied, musingly,—</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I cannot think. Perhaps you wish more pocket-money, or—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" answered the boy, quickly, "it's nothing like that, Uncle +Richard! It's—it's—oh, it's will you take a walk?"</p> + +<p>Trafford's forehead began to wrinkle and slowly gather the shade of +gloom which seemed always hovering about him, even in his most +cheerful moments; but before it had time to cover the man's brow, and +before he could utter a refusal, Noll's hand was endeavoring to +smooth away the wrinkles, and he was saying,—</p> + +<p>"There, don't say 'No,'—don't, Uncle Richard! I won't ask you to go +again if you are not pleased with this walk, but <i>this</i> time—just +<i>this</i> once—do say 'Yes,' uncle! There can't be a pleasanter +afternoon in the whole year than this, and I've walked alone, always +till now. Why, Uncle Richard, you won't say 'No' <i>this</i> time?"</p> + +<p>Trafford hesitated, a refusal trembling on his lips, which he did not +quite wish to utter. The boy <i>had</i> walked alone, he remembered, and it +was a very simple request to grant; and if it was going to be such a +pleasure and gratification to Noll, why not yield, and for once put +aside his own preferences and inclinations? It is not an easy matter +for a man who has lived only for himself and his own pleasure to put +the gratification of these aside to give place to the happiness and +comfort of another; but, with an effort, Trafford put his books away, +and rose from his chair, saying,—</p> + +<p>"This once, Noll,—this once. One walk with me will suffice you, I +think. When shall we start?"</p> + +<p>"Now,—at once, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, joyfully; "it's two o'clock +already, and the tide a long, long way out. Don't let's wait a minute +longer."</p> + +<p>Trafford smiled a little at his nephew's eagerness, and taking his +hat, followed the boy to the piazza. It was a great change from the +half-gloom of the library, and the chilliness of the long, dark halls, +to the bright, sunny piazza, where the light fell so warm and broadly, +and from whence the blue and shining sea stretched far and wide and +vast.</p> + +<p>Noll felt sure that Uncle Richard must notice it and rejoice, even +though it might be secretly. From east to west there were no clouds, +and nothing to hinder the sun-beams from finding the earth and working +wondrous charms on land and rock and sea. They stood for a few minutes +there, one of them, at least, enjoying the wide view very much, then +Noll said,—</p> + +<p>"We'll go up the shore, if you'd as lief, Uncle Richard. It's much +pleasanter that way, I think."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Trafford, with an indifference which was not +encouraging, and they passed down the steps on to the sand. It was a +silent and uncomfortable walk for the first few rods, Trafford walking +with his head bowed upon his breast and looking only at the yellow +sand upon which he trod. He seemed to have no eyes for the calm and +gentle peace which had descended upon that afternoon, robbing the sea +of its terror and making it enchanting and lovely, and weaving a +mystic charm about the bare, bald Rock basking warm and purple under +the sun. Even the waves murmured only softly and soothingly and with +drowsy echoes, as they rippled in and out among the rocks and along +the sand. Fortunately for their pleasure, Noll picked up a curious +pebble before they had gone a great way. It was not an agate, nor was +it like the rounded pebbles of porphyry which the tide washed up, and +puzzling over this, and asking Uncle Richard, at last, to explain its +nature, somehow broke the heavy silence which had been between them, +and questions and pleasant talk came naturally enough after this.</p> + +<p>Trafford lost his gloom and reserve, and followed after his nephew, +chatting and explaining strange matters of rock and sea, and stopping +now and then to pull over great bunches of freshly-stranded kelp to +help Noll search for rare shells or bits of scarlet or purple weed +which were hidden and entangled there. How brightly shone the sun! +What peace and calm hovered over land and sea! He was just beginning +to be conscious of the joy and loveliness which the afternoon held. It +was no wonder, he thought, that Noll's blithe, unclouded heart loved +such a pleasant earth, and found delight in all the hours which +flitted by. But for himself, alas! all this brightness was clouded +over by the ever-present, ever-shadowing darkness of the future. It +might have been different if—if—But with a sigh Trafford put away +these thoughts, and followed on. They lingered around the rocks in +their path, black with fringes of dry sea-weed, and talked of gneiss +and sienite, granite and trap; they stopped at the curve in the shore, +and sat down to watch the white flitting of sails on the far +horizon-line, and somehow, the sight of them led to a long talk about +Hastings and Noll's papa, and happy memories of other days. Trafford +was in a softened mood as they rose up from their seat on a great +fragment which had fallen from the cliff above, and Noll said,—</p> + +<p>"Come, Uncle Richard, let's keep on toward Culm. It's <i>so</i> pleasant, +and night is a long way off yet."</p> + +<p>If he had followed his own inclinations, the uncle would have turned +about and retraced his steps, but Noll had started on, and Trafford +followed, thinking, "It isn't often the boy has company in his +rambles. I can humor him for once."</p> + +<p>Slowly enough they approached the Culm houses, loitering along the +moist, shining sand, over which the waves had rolled and rippled but a +few hours before, and marking their devious path with straying +footprints. Noll's heart began to beat somewhat faster as they neared +the fishermen's houses, and he kept a keen watch upon his uncle's face +in order to detect the first look of surprise and astonishment that +should come across it when he perceived how the huts had been +improved. But Trafford's eyes were turned toward the sea, thoughtfully +and gravely, and they drew very near the village without the discovery +being made. They came upon Dirk, Hark Darby, and two or three other +fishermen, spreading their nets in the sun, all of whom touched their +hats and nodded respectfully to Noll, eying the uncle, meanwhile, with +curious eyes and half-averted faces. The sight of these men brought +Trafford's eyes and thoughts back to Culm and the present. He turned +to Noll, saying, with a little smile,—</p> + +<p>"Some of your sworn friends?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they're my friends, Uncle Richard," said Noll, expecting every +moment to see Trafford raise his eyes to the houses, which they were +passing, "and they do me a great many favors too."</p> + +<p>"In what way?" Trafford was about to ask; but just then he looked up +and about him, and the words died on his lips. Noll paused, waiting in +suspense for what was to come next. His uncle stood still, and looked +for a full minute upon Dirk's house, then cast his eyes up and down +the line of dwellings, while a look of wonder and amazement came over +his face. He turned about, and looked at Noll, who could not, for the +life of him, keep the bright color from creeping up into his cheeks +and over his forehead, and then he looked at the houses again. A +sudden suspicion came into Trafford's mind, and turning his keen eyes +upon Noll, he exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Can you explain this?"</p> + +<p>The nephew hesitated, looked down in some embarrassment, then +gathering sudden courage, looked up and answered, brightly, "Yes, +Uncle Richard, I know all about it."</p> + +<p>It was all plain to Trafford then. For a moment his own eyes faltered +and refused to meet Noll's, and he showed some signs of emotion. But +his voice and tone were as calm as ever when he said, a few minutes +after,—</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> did this? How can I believe it? What had you to do with? And +why was I not consulted, if this was your work?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, quickly, "don't be vexed with me. You +gave me permission to help these Culm people. Don't you remember?"</p> + +<p>Trafford made no reply, and again looked at the line of comfortable, +well-repaired houses. There were deeper thoughts and emotions in his +heart at that moment than Noll could know or guess.</p> + +<p>The long silence was so uncomfortable that the boy was fain to break +it, with, "I've one more thing to show you, Uncle Richard. It's not +much,—only just a beginning,—but I'd like you to see and know about +it."</p> + +<p>Trafford followed, without a word, and Noll led the way to the little +schoolroom, with its two benches and three-legged stool and pile of +well-thumbed primers and spelling-books.</p> + +<p>"It's not much," said Noll, apologetically, "but it's a beginning, and +they all know their letters, and some can spell a little."</p> + +<p>Trafford evinced no surprise, much to Noll's wonder, and merely asked, +"Where do you find the time?"</p> + +<p>"After recitations," replied the nephew; and that was all that was +said about the matter.</p> + +<p>Trafford went out and sat down on the little wharf, and Noll lingered +in the door-way of his schoolroom, thinking that he had never seen +Uncle Richard act more strangely. Was he offended at what he had done +and was doing for the Culm people? he wondered. He looked out and saw +that his uncle had turned his face away, and was looking off upon the +sea with the same dreamy, thoughtful look which he had noticed in his +eyes of late. Noll would have given a great deal could he have known +his thoughts at that moment. To human eyes this grave and thoughtful +man, who sat on the wharf, was not a whit less the stern and gloomy +creature that he had been an hour before. Yet, all hidden from others' +gaze, and almost from his own consciousness, a sudden sense of regret +and of a great short-coming in himself had welled up through the crust +of his hardened heart. His heart had been deeply stirred, and now it +smote him. His thoughts took some such shape as this,—even while he +was looking with such apparent calmness upon the changing, shadowy +lights of the sea:—</p> + +<p>"This boy has done more in this short summer for his fellow-men and +for his God than I have done in my whole forty years of life! Oh, what +a life mine has been!—all a wreck, a failure, a miserable waste! And +he? Why, in this short summer-time, and on this barren Rock, he has +made his very life a blessing to every one upon it. I suppose those +dirty, ignorant fishermen bless the day that brought him here. And I? +O Heaven! what a failure, what a failure! I've done the world no +good,—it's no better for my having lived in it,—it would miss me no +more than one of these useless pebbles which I cast into the sea. And +this boy—<i>my</i> boy—always at work to make others rejoice that he was +born into the world!"</p> + +<p>For all the calmness and repose that was on his face, he longed to cry +out. Oh! was there no deliverance? Might not these long wasted years +yet be paid for by deeds of mercy and charity? But where was there a +deliverer? and who could tell how many years of good deeds and charity +could pay for forty years of wasted ones?</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph43" id="glyph43"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 4" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph183" id="glyph183"></a> +<img src="images/fig018.jpg" width="400" height="157" alt="glyph 18" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">New Thoughts and New Plans</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgn.jpg" alt="N" title="N" /></div><p>oll, sitting in the doorway, was presently aroused from a little +reverie into which he had fallen by hearing a voice call, "Noll, my +boy, come here." He obeyed the call, and started for the little wharf, +half expecting that Uncle Richard was about to reprove him for what he +had done. Trafford gazed in his nephew's face for a short space, and +then, smothering what his heart longed to cry out, and what he had +intended to say to the boy, he sighed only, "We will start homeward, +if you are ready."</p> + +<p>Noll was sure that his uncle had kept back something which it was in +his heart to say, and, wondering what it could be, he followed after +the tall figure along the homeward path.</p> + +<p>The sun was getting well down into the west. The fair clearness of the +sky was broken by a soft, mellow haze which began to steal across it, +yet the afternoon was no less beautiful, and along the horizon there +were long and lovely trails of misty color,—faint, delicate flushes +of amber and purple,—which gave an added charm to the day's +declining.</p> + +<p>Not a word did uncle and nephew speak till, as they rounded the curve +of the shore, and the stone house came in sight, Trafford asked, +abruptly, "Noll, where did your pocket-money go?"</p> + +<p>The boy explained the whole matter, with an account of Ned Thorn's +bounty and help, at the last, and then they paced along the sand in +silence, as before. Noll managed to get many looks at his uncle's +face, and seeing that it wore no stern nor forbidding aspect, ventured +to ask,—</p> + +<p>"Are you offended with me, or what, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>Trafford took his nephew's hand as he replied, "Not in the least, +Noll."</p> + +<p>His voice was strangely kind and tender, and Noll exclaimed, looking +up joyfully and brightly, "I'm very glad, Uncle Richard! and do you +know your voice sounded like papa's just now?"</p> + +<p>They walked hand in hand along the shore,—Noll, at least, very +happy,—and looking afar at the sea through glad and hopeful eyes. He +mentally prayed that Uncle Richard's gloom and sternness might never +return, and that he might always be in his present softened and +subdued mood. They came to the stone house at last, and, as they +reached the steps, Noll took one long look at his uncle's face, +thinking to himself that not soon again should he see it so gentle and +tender, for the gloom of the library would soon shadow it, and make it +once more stern and forbidding. But, just as if he felt something of +this himself, Trafford lingered on the steps, as if loath to go in, +and at last sat down. Noll inwardly rejoiced, and seated himself on +the bit of green which he had caused to grow, by much watering and +nourishing, close beside the piazza. That little breadth of grass, +with its deep verdure, was a wonderfully pleasant thing for the eyes +to rest upon in this waste of rock and sand. Trafford looked down at +it and at the boy sitting there,—his curly locks blown all about his +face by the warm wind,—and thought to himself, that, wherever the lad +went, brightness and pleasantness sprang up about him, even though the +soil was naught but sand and barrenness. His heart was full of +reproachful cries. "What this boy has done,—and <i>I</i>!" was a thought +continually haunting him. And he did not try to put it away; but, as +he sat there, went back over all the months of the lad's stay, +remembering what he had done to brighten the old stone house and +himself, and contrasting all the boy's actions and motives with his +own,—sparing himself not at all in the condemnation which his own +heart was ready to pronounce. "What this boy has done,—and <i>I</i>! I? +Nothing, nothing! The earth will never miss me, for I have had no part +in its life, and have cared naught for its joys or its sorrows; and +beyond—where this boy's heaven lies—there will be no place for me, +because I have not sought it, and have cared only for my own peace. So +I have no part nor place in the world or out of it." A more vivid +sense of this truth came to Trafford here, and he sighed long and +heavily, thinking of what might have been. He saw and felt what a +great matter it was to have a heart wherein God's love dwelt so +steadfastly that eye nor ear could ever be closed against the wants of +his creatures, and the work of his that lay waiting for the doing. And +it was another matter to have a heart so cold and frozen that no +warmth of his love ever thrilled it with pity or compassion,—ever +drew it with tender, gentle guidance toward himself,—ever stirred it +with longings for his love and his blessing and upholding. It was no +wonder, he thought, that for one heart the earth was joyous and +beautiful, while for the other it was but a gloomy, unhappy waste; for +over the pure, warm heart's earth God reigned, and his sunshine +lighted it, and his flowers blossomed by the wayside, and they who +lived in the land were his own, and their needs the needs of his +children. All doing was but doing for God, while in a cold, frozen +heart his work is not remembered, and the sunshine is but gloom, +because it does not come from him, and the flowers are not his, and +the poor soul mourns and sorrows, wrapped up in its own darkness and +chilliness, and fails to find the earth bright or beautiful.</p> + +<p>With such thoughts as these in his heart, Trafford was silent a long +time. The sun set, and shadows began to steal over the sea, gradually +and softly wrapping its farther distances in hazy indistinctness. +Hagar's voice, from the kitchen-door, where she was calling her +chickens to their supper, floated around to his ears and awoke him +from his long and sorrowful reverie. He started up, surprised to see +how fast the light had flitted from sky and earth. Noll still sat on +the bit of grass, busy over a heap of shells and pebbles, which he had +gathered during his afternoon walk. Trafford looked at him a few +minutes in silence, and finally asked,—</p> + +<p>"What plans have you made for winter about your school, my boy?"</p> + +<p>A sudden look of surprise flitted over the boy's face ere he answered, +"I haven't made any, Uncle Richard. I can't, you see, because the days +will be so short that I'm afraid there'll not be time after my +recitations. And there's no stove nor fireplace in the room, and not +much of anything comfortable. But I'm going to try, though," he added, +hopefully.</p> + +<p>Trafford was silent and thoughtful for a long time. At last he said, +"What would you say if I forbade you to continue your school through +the winter?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think you'll say that, Uncle Richard," said Noll,—not very +confidently, however. "I should be very sorry to give it up now."</p> + +<p>"Even if I thought it best?"</p> + +<p>Noll could not deny but that he should. "They're just beginning to +learn," he said, "and it would be too bad for them to lose all they have +gained. Don't you really think so, too, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<a name="rockgrey" id="rockgrey"></a> +<img src="images/rockgrey.jpg" width="429" height="550" alt="Culm Rock" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h5>Culm Rock.</h5> + +<p>Trafford made no reply to this question, but, when he spoke again, +said, "Not even if another teacher filled your place, Noll?"</p> + +<p>The boy's tongue was silent with wonder and astonishment. Then, +thinking his ears had deceived him, he said, "Why—why—what did you +say, Uncle Richard?"</p> + +<p>"I asked you," said Trafford, "whether you would be willing to give up +the school if another teacher took your place?"</p> + +<p>The warm, eager color rushed into Noll's face, and he cried, "Do you +mean that—that—a teacher might take my place, Uncle Richard? Do you +really mean it? Were you in earnest, and shall I answer?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure," said his uncle, gravely enough.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Uncle Richard!" cried Noll, "I <i>knew</i> the time would come some +day! I knew it! I knew it! And will you hire a teacher for those Culm +children? Was that what you meant?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know that they need two," said Trafford.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll give up the school this minute!" said Noll, remembering +that he had not answered his uncle's question; "I'm willing to, if the +children can only have a teacher. Oh, but it seems too good to be +true! And are you really going to hire some one to take my place?"</p> + +<p>"I have hardly thought yet; you must not press questions upon me too +fast. I do not know my own mind."</p> + +<p>Hagar heard their voices, and came around the piazza corner to say, +"Tea hab been waitin' fur ye dis yer whole hour, Mas'r Dick, an' +'tain't growin' better, nohow. Will ye hab it wait any longer?"</p> + +<p>"No, we're coming, shortly," said Trafford, and presently they went in +to tea, for which Noll had not the least appetite, in spite of his +long walk,—it being quite driven away by the question which his uncle +had put to him,—and he spent most of the meal-time in taking keen and +watchful looks at Uncle Richard's face, to see when it began to cloud +over with gloom and grow stern and moody again. But the shadow which +he so much dreaded did not make its appearance, and from the +supper-table they went to the library, where Hagar had lit the lamp, +Noll feeling wonderfully happy and quite sure that this was the eve of +a brighter day for Uncle Richard and the Culm people.</p> + +<p>Contrary to his usual habit, Trafford did not take up his books on +reaching the library, but sat looking thoughtfully at Noll, and at +last, as if speaking his thoughts aloud, he said,—</p> + +<p>"If a new teacher comes, a new schoolroom will have to follow, as a +matter of consequence; and those two rough benches which I saw over at +Culm are hardly the best style of school furniture. And how is it +about books?"</p> + +<p>"There are none but primers and leaves from old spelling-books," said +Noll, sitting very still and quiet with delight at hearing Uncle +Richard ask such questions. It all seemed like a dream, and not at all +a matter of reality. What could have come across the man's feelings so +suddenly and with such effect?</p> + +<p>Trafford resumed his inquiries after a short silence, and little by +little drew from his nephew the whole story of the school's +commencement, and what drawbacks the lack of a good room, with seats +and desks and the necessary books, were, till he had made himself +acquainted with all the needs of the school. He talked with Noll about +the Culm people, and listened to the boy's hopeful and enthusiastic +account of their slight improvement, with something that was very like +interest. But the school seemed to interest him most. He proposed that +a teacher be sent for to take charge of the school during the winter, +and that the best room which could be found among the houses be fitted +up as a schoolroom, and as nicely and warmly as possible. The teacher +and the furniture would have to come from Hastings, and most likely a +carpenter would be needed. Noll thought of John Sampson at once.</p> + +<p>So the evening passed away in planning and discussion, and when Noll +went to bed, it seemed as if all the events of the afternoon and +evening were but phases of a happy dream, which morning light would +banish as unreal. His thankfulness for this token of dawn, after the +long, black, weary night of gloom through which he had struggled, +could not find words enough in which to praise God for this promise of +brighter days. He prayed that it might not be fleeting, and that +morning might not show this gleam of brightness to be only imaginary. +But the morrow came, and proved yesterday's events to be real and +true, and Uncle Richard still without his stern and gloomy face, and +ready to perfect the plans which they had discussed the previous +evening.</p> + +<p>One day after another passed, till Noll began to be certain that +Uncle Richard's gloom and moroseness had departed from him forever. +The boy wondered and surmised, but could not account for this sudden +disappearance of the shadow. What had wrought the change so suddenly? +Would it last alway? True, Uncle Richard was not cheerful yet, and he +seemed to be carrying some heavy grief or sorrow about with him; but +from his face the grimness and gloominess were gone, and Noll was sure +that there must be some little change in his heart, else he would not +care for the welfare of these Culm children.</p> + +<p>A week or two elapsed before this new plan was put in operation, or +rather before anything was done toward carrying it out. The skipper +was hardly the person to intrust with the care of finding a teacher +and looking up school-books, and for a time they were in doubt and +perplexity. Then Noll proposed—what he had long been wishing—to go +to Hastings himself, and find such a teacher as was needed, procure +the suitable books and furniture, and bring John Sampson back with +him. It would require but a week's absence, and in that time all the +business could be done, and some happy days be spent with Ned Thorn +and old friends.</p> + +<p>Trafford hesitated a long time. Who could tell what peril the boy +might be in while crossing the sea? How could he lose him now? And, +when once in the charmed circle of old friends and associations, would +he not dislike to return to gray and barren Culm Rock? But Noll went.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph53" id="glyph53"></a> +<img src="images/fig005.jpg" alt="glyph 5" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">In Peril of the Sea</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he day had dawned clear and brilliant, but as the afternoon waned, a +gray curtain of ragged cloud slowly rose and hid the sun, and brought +an early nightfall. The wind was strong, and the sea—calm and silvery +but a few hours before—began to toss and thunder heavily. Hagar came +from the pine woods with a great basket of cones, just as the early +dusk began to settle over the windy sea and to wrap the forest in +heavy shadow, and as the old woman crossed the narrow bar of sand +which connected Culm Rock with the main-land, the wind swept over in +such strong gusts, and with such blinding sheets of spray, that her +safety was more than once endangered. But she reached the firm, +unyielding Rock, with no worse misfortune than a drenching befalling +her, and made her way to the warm and comfortable precincts of her +kitchen, with many ejaculations of delight and thankfulness. The first +sound which greeted her ears on entering was the long-drawn, solemn +voice of the organ.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what Mas'r Dick's got on his heart dis yer night?" she +muttered, bustling about to prepare supper; "'tain't sech music as dat +yer organ make lately. 'Pears like somethin' was de matter, anyhow."</p> + +<p>She prepared supper in the dining-room, muttering to herself about the +lonesomeness and silence of the house since "Mas'r Noll dun gone off;" +and when the solitary meal was in readiness, put her head in at the +library-door and called her master to tea. When she had got back to +her kitchen, and was standing in the open door, her grizzled head +thrust out into the gathering gloom and tempest to watch the progress +of the storm, she noticed that the music did not cease, but kept on in +its slow and solemn measure, rising and falling and stealing +plaintively in.</p> + +<p>"Something's de matter, sure," Hagar said, turning about and shutting +the door; "dat ain't de kind of music dat Mas'r Dick's made lately. +'Pears like he's 'stressed 'bout somethin'! But, Hagar, ye can't do +nuffin but jes' trust de Lord, nohow. Ye'd better get yer own supper, +ef yer Mas'r Dick don't tech his."</p> + +<p>She ate her supper and washed the dishes, and gave the little kitchen +a stroke or two with her broom, and yet the music from the library +came stealing in as sad-voiced and heavy as ever.</p> + +<p>"'Pears as if he'd never eat his supper," Hagar grumbled; "de chile +can't live on music, allers, nohow. Reckon he'll nebber hab much +sperits till he eats more. But jes' stop yer talkin', chile, ye can't +do nuffin' but trust de Lord."</p> + +<p>By and by the wandering notes ceased, and in the deep silence there +came up the hoarse and awful roar of the surf, with the wailing of the +wind over the chimney, and filled the house with their echoes. Hagar +heaped wood on the fire, drew her little low chair nearer the light +and gladsome blaze, shivering and muttering as she did so. She had a +great dread of cold and darkness, and the deep hush, broken by the +clamor of the sea, made her afraid.</p> + +<p>"De Lord's about," said she, drawing her old woollen shawl close +around her; "de Lord's on de sea, an' 'pears like nobody need be +feared when he holds it in his hand like as I holds dis yer silber ob +Mas'r Noll's dat he lost under de rug in de dinin'-room,"—looking +down at the shining coin which she had picked up that morning, and +wondering where the boy was at that moment. "'Pears as ef de sunshine +had been hid de whole time sence he went off to de city," she +muttered, gazing in the coals. "Wonder ef Mas'r Dick misses him? +Wonder ef dis yer ole woman won't be tickled 'nuff to see him when de +day comes? Ki! Hagar, ye knows ye will."</p> + +<p>The roar of the sea and the cry of the wind came in again, more +lonesome, sadder than ever. The old negress shivered, peered about her +into the dark corners of the kitchen, and crooned to herself,—a wild, +monotonous air, set to words which came to her lips for the +occasion:—</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Oh, Hagar, don't ye know</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">De Lord's on de sea?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He rides on de waves,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And de wind is in his hand,—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">De Lord keeps dem all!</span><br /> + +<p>What ye feared of, Hagar? Kase, don't ye know de Lord's in it? 'Pears +like ye done forget dat de whole time—Now!" and she broke into her +rhymeless chant again. It was only a way she had got of setting her +thoughts to music, drawing the words out very slowly, and weaving to +and fro the while. When she had repeated her first lines, she kept on +with her thoughts, peering over her shoulder at the flickering shadows +which the fire cast on the wall behind her, shivering with awe at the +clamor without, and chanting, waveringly,—</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Oh, Hagar, don't ye know</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">De Lord's on de sea?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">De wind blows, an' de sky is dark,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An' de sea <i>cries like a little chile</i>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An' de boats will be blowed away;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">But de Lord is good, an' mornin' will come,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">An', oh, Hagar, sing hallelujah!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fur de Lord is in it all!"</span><br /> + +<p>Here she stopped her chanting, and began to sing "Hallelujah!" softly, +ceasing her swaying, to look into the coals. The fire burned down to +rosy embers, in which little blue-tongued flames darted up +fitfully,—anon lighting up the room brilliantly, then dying away and +leaving it almost in darkness,—while Hagar's crooning died away to a +whisper. A little gray light still shone in at the kitchen-window, but +it was fast flitting. The roar of the sea became thunder, the wind +grew tempestuous. By and by the rain began to fall, sounding strangely +soft and still, when compared with the din of wind and waves.</p> + +<p>"God bress us!" said Hagar, "dis yer is an awful night. Keep de boats +off de Rock, Lord, and pity de sailors in dis yer awful storm!"</p> + +<p>The old woman knew how the sea must look now,—yeasty, horrible, its +white wave-caps shining through the darkness and hurrying to topple +over and thunder against the rocks. To her, as she sat crouched before +the fire, it seemed to howl and scream and mourn hoarsely, like some +great voice rending the night with lamentation.</p> + +<p>"Call on de Lord, Hagar," she muttered frequently; "can't nuffin else +help ye now!"</p> + +<p>Sometimes she fell to chanting her thoughts,—the sound of her own +voice was pleasant to her in the loneliness,—and she piled cedar +chips on the fire to see their cheerful blaze and enjoy their brisk +crackle.</p> + +<p>"Might as well hab a candle," she said, after a time. "Git yer +knittin', chile, an' 'pear as ef ye didn't distrus' de Lord. What ef +de wind is blowin'? what ef de sea is a-screamin'? Don't ye know whose +wind and whose sea 'tis?" She got up to grope for a candle on the +shelf over the fireplace.</p> + +<p>"Hagar!" exclaimed a voice at the farther end of the kitchen,—a +voice so full of compressed fear and anxiety that the old negress +tumbled back in her chair with affright,—"Hagar! are you here?" +demanded the voice.</p> + +<p>"Bress ye! yes, I's here, Mas'r Dick!" she answered, catching sight of +his white face by the dining-room door. "I's here, but ye spoke so +suddent! Jes' wait, an' I'll hab a candle in a minnit."</p> + +<p>The candle was found, and, after a long blowing of coals and burning +of splinters, began to burn dimly. Hagar set it on the table, and +looked up at her master with a start of alarm, his face was so white +and anxious.</p> + +<p>"Hagar," said he, huskily, "<i>Noll was to start from Hastings this +morning!</i>"</p> + +<p>The old negress stood looking at him a full minute,—a fearful, +lonesome minute in which the rain beat against the panes, and the +awful voice of the sea filled the room,—then she sank down by the +fire with a low cry.</p> + +<p>"Lord bress us all!" she wailed, as she looked up, "fur he'll nebber +get here, Mas'r Dick!"</p> + +<p>Trafford looked at her silently. Oh, that awful voice without!—the +thunder, the tremble of the earth, the screaming of the wind! At +last,—</p> + +<p>"Is ye certain sure, Mas'r Dick? D'ye <i>know</i> he started? Did he say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hagar, if I did not—<i>not know</i>,—if I had any doubt that he +started, I would give all my possessions this very moment!"</p> + +<p>"'Tain't de money nor de lands dat'll do now!" moaned Hagar, beginning +to sway back and forth; "it's only de Lord! De Lord's on de sea +to-night, an' 'tain't fur man to say! Oh, Mas'r Dick! t'ink o' dat +bressed boy in dese waves an' dis wind!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said the master, imperatively, "I will <i>not</i> think of it! It +can't be! Noll? Oh, Hagar, I believe I'm going mad!" He turned away +from the old negress and opened the door. The tempest swept in, +overturning the candle and flaring up the fire, and bearing the rain, +in one long gust, across the little kitchen, even into Hagar's face.</p> + +<p>Trafford stood there, regardless of wind and rain, looking out upon +the sea. The mighty tumult awed him and filled his heart with a sense +of man's utter weakness and helplessness. The foamy expanse gleamed +whitely through the night,—awful with the terror of death,—and its +deafening roar smote upon his ears, and in the slightest lull, the +rain-drops fell with a soft, dull patter. Noll in it all?—in this +fearful, yawning sea,—in this wild tumult of wind and rain,—in the +vast waste of waves which the thick darkness shrouded, and where death +was riding? "God help me!" he cried in sudden frenzy,—"God help me!" +He looked up at the thick, black depths of sky with a groan of agony +when he remembered his utter powerlessness. But what right had he to +look to Heaven for aid?—he who knew not God, nor sought him, nor +desired his love? The bitterness of this thought made him groan and +beat his breast. Would He—whom all his life long he had refused and +rejected—hear his cries?</p> + +<p>Hagar's voice came to him here through all the din and thunder, +beseeching that the door might be closed. He closed it behind him, +and stepped out into the darkness. It was already past the hour for +the "Gull" to arrive, he remembered, and then a sudden thought flashed +through his brain that beacons ought to be kindled to guide the +skipper, if he were not already beyond the need of earthly guides and +beacons. And close upon this thought came a remembrance of the Culm +fishermen,—stout, skilful sailors, all of them,—and a great hope +filled his heart that in them he might find aid in his extremity. And +without waiting for a second thought, he started through the inky +darkness and the tempest for Culm village. He ran till he was +breathless. He climbed and groped his way over and along the slippery +rocks, the awful voice of the sea filling his ears and goading him on.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph222" id="glyph222"></a> +<img src="images/fig022.jpg" alt="glyph 22" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Weary Watching</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he evening wore on. They were all on the beach,—Trafford and the +Culm fishermen,—and now a beacon fire streamed up into the darkness, +and made the night seem even more black and intense. They had piled +their heap of driftwood somewhat in the shelter of a great rock, and +around it the men were huddled, muttering and whispering to each +other, and casting sober glances at Trafford, who stood apart from +them in the shadow. Not a word had he spoken since the fire was +kindled, but, grim and silent as a statue, had stood there, with his +eyes looking upon the gleaming sea, and the rain beating in his face. +He had worked desperately while gathering driftwood.</p> + +<p>"The master be crazed, like," Dirk had whispered to the men as they +came in with armfuls of fuel. "D'ye see his eyes? D'ye see the way he +be runnin' up an' down, poor man?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, an' his lad be where many o' your'n an' mine ha' been, eh, Dirk?" +said Hark Harby. "Mabby he ken tell what 'tis ter be losin' his own, +an' no help fur it, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Sh!" said Dirk; "the sea ben't able ter get sech a lad as his every +day. If he be lost, 'tis a losin' fur more'n he, yender."</p> + +<p>This was before the beacon was kindled. Now they huddled in a gloomy +circle about the hissing, sputtering fire, some crouching close to the +rock to save themselves from the rain, and the others drawing their +heads down into their wide-collared jackets, that bade defiance to the +wet. The wind whirled and raved, and the sea thundered on. The fire +cast a little pathway of light through the darkness, down to the sea's +edge, and they could see its waves all beaten to foam as white as +milk, flecking the sand in great patches. It was an awful waiting.</p> + +<p>By and by Hagar came down along the sand in a great hood-cloak that +gave her a most weird and witchlike appearance. The fishermen looked +at her with startled, suspicious eyes as the bent old figure suddenly +emerged from the darkness into the full glare of the firelight. The +old negress passed on to where Trafford was standing.</p> + +<p>"I's here, Mas'r Dick," she said, touching his arm, as if fain to +assure him of her presence and sympathy.</p> + +<p>He did not repel her, but said, with much of kindness in his tone, +"This is no place for you, Hagar."</p> + +<p>"De Lord's here," said Hagar, quietly, "an' I's gwine ter stay. I +isn't feared, Mas'r Dick."</p> + +<p>Trafford looked in her wrinkled, time-worn old face yearningly. This +black, ignorant old woman had something within her heart that gave her +a peace and serenity in this fearful hour that he envied. He felt the +truth of this as he had never felt it before. She was stayed and +upheld by some invisible hand. Somehow, in her humble life, this old +negress had found some great truth which all his own study and +research had failed to teach him. He turned about and made her a seat +of boards on an old spar which lay on the sand, under the shelter of +the rock by the fire.</p> + +<p>"T'ank ye, Mas'r Dick," said Hagar, tremulously, as she sat down. This +unusual kindness touched her. It was like his old-time thoughtfulness +and gentleness, when he was her own blithe, merry schoolboy, she +thought.</p> + +<p>The rain began to fall less heavily. Only now and then a great drop +fell with a hiss and sputter into the fire; but the wind grew fiercer +as the evening waned, and the thunder and pounding of the sea was +deafening. The spray dashed higher and higher, quite up to the backs +of the men who huddled about the fire, and its fine mist sifted even +into Hagar's face and grizzled locks.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't nuffin tu what dat bressed boy is suff'rin'," she sighed, +wiping the cold drops off her cheeks; "'pears as ef dis ole heart 'ud +split'n two, thinkin' ob it. O good Lord, bress de chile!—bress +him,—bress him!—dat's all Hagar ken say."</p> + +<p>It was a weary watching. As the war of the sea grew louder and the +wind fiercer, the Culm fishermen gathered into a yet closer group, and +looked with awed and sober faces in the fire. For all that these men +followed the sea, and it was almost a native element to them, they +seemed to have a great dread and awe of it. Trafford yet stood apart +from them with his eyes looking into the dense night, and Hagar, all +muffled in her great cloak, swayed slowly to and fro with her face +hidden. Oh, the suspense and agony of those minutes!—the weary +watching and waiting for—what?</p> + +<p>It came at last. In the short space of silence between the bursting of +two great waves, there rose a cry from out the great waste of darkness +beyond their little length and breadth of light. Trafford started and +sprang forward. The men around the fire were startled from their +crouching positions by this shrill, sudden shout, and looked in one +another's faces and—waited. But the cry was not repeated. Then Dirk +said,—</p> + +<p>"It wur the skipper, sure. O Lord, men! but I be feared the 'Gull' be +on the rocks, yender."</p> + +<p>The sweat stood in drops on his forehead, and he slowly clinched and +unclinched his great brawny hands. Trafford heard his words, and a +sudden faintness like death smote him. But it passed away, and in +sudden frenzy and despair he rushed up to Dirk, exclaiming,—</p> + +<p>"How do you know, man? How can you tell? There was only a cry!"</p> + +<p>Before Dirk could answer, there rose, clear and distinct, that one +solitary voice from out the darkness,—a fearful, appealing cry for +aid from some human heart out there in the awful presence of death. +And that thrilling cry was all. It never came again. Trafford beat his +breast with agony. Then he turned upon the fishermen.</p> + +<p>"Why do you stand here," he cried, furiously, "when they are perishing +out there? My boy is there!—my boy that's done so much for you and +yours! Will you let him drown without lifting a hand to save him?"</p> + +<p>"It be no use to try," said the men, pointing to the surf; "boat's ud +crack like a gull's shell out there."</p> + +<p>"But try,—only try!" shouted Trafford, in an agonized tone. "If money +will tempt you, you shall have all of mine! You shall have more than +ever your eyes saw before! I will make you all rich!—only try,—only +try!"</p> + +<p>"We'd try soon enough for the young master's sake, an' ye might keep +yer gold," said Dirk; "but it wud be no use, an' only losin' of life. +The lad be beyont our help or yer gold, either."</p> + +<p>"'Tain't de money nor de lands dat'll do, now," moaned Hagar; "it's +only de Lord!"</p> + +<p>"But think of it, you ungrateful wretches!" cried Trafford, +frantically,—"the lad has done more for you and yours than you can +ever repay! He went across the sea this time to do you good, and it's +for your sakes that he's out in the peril yonder! Will you let him +drown without even an attempt to save him? Will you?"</p> + +<p>Dirk shook his head. "It be no use," he said, "but we ken try. I be +not one to hev it said that I be unthankful. Here, lads, give us a +hand! Ef I'll be riskin' my life fur any one, 'tis fur the lad +yender."</p> + +<p>They dragged a boat down to the curling line of foam, and watching for +a favorable opportunity, launched it. Trafford sprang in with them, +and they pushed into the darkness. It seemed hardly three minutes to +those who stood around the fire, before a great wave came riding in +and threw the boat and its load upon the sand. Dirk sprang up and +seized Trafford before the returning flood had engulfed him. He +pointed to the rent ribs of the boat, saying, as he shook himself,—</p> + +<p>"It be as I told ye. Yer lad be beyont yer gold or yer help."</p> + +<p>They made no more attempts. Trafford gave up the idea of a rescue, and +paced up and down the sand in the very face of the surf that drenched +him at every tumble. Utterly helpless! The cold, cruel sea mocked his +despair and frenzy. It was great and mighty, and even now was +swallowing his treasure, he thought, which lay almost within his power +to save. So near!—and yet death between! The thought made him half +wild with despair and horror. Yet there was no help,—nowhere to turn +for aid or succor,—not the faintest hope of saving the boy's life. +The sea must swallow him.</p> + +<p>The fishermen looked askance at the wild, desperate figure that rushed +up and down the sand as if it sought to burst through the sea and save +its treasure, and whispered gloomily among themselves. Suddenly the +man wheeled about and came up to the fire, crying, fiercely,—</p> + +<p>"Hagar, you have a God! I cannot find him. Pray to him,—pray to him! +Quick, woman!—pray to him before it's too late!"</p> + +<p>"Lord help ye, Mas'r Dick!" said Hagar, "I's jes' prayin' fur de dear +chile ebery minnit! Don't ye know it? But de Lord's out +thar!"—pointing with her skinny finger to the depths of darkness +which shrouded the sea, with such vehemence as to startle the +fishermen; "he's wid dat boy, and thar can't nuffin kill his soul. +It's only goin' to glory quicker'n de rest ob us. Don't ye know it, +Mas'r Dick?—can't ye feel it? What's de winds or de waves, so long as +de Lord's got ye in his arms, holdin' ye up?—as he's got dat boy ob +your'n. Oh, Mas'r Dick! jes' humble yerself 'fore de Lord, right off. +What's de use ob stribin' to fight him?—what's de use? 'Tain't no +use!—ye knows it dis minnit!—ye knows it all ober! Call on de Lord +yerself, Mas'r Dick!—call on de Lord 'fore it's too late!"</p> + +<p>"I cannot, I cannot!" groaned Trafford, dropping down on the sand by +his old nurse; "I don't know him, and he will not hear me. Oh, my boy, +my boy!"</p> + +<p>He gave up then. Hagar knew by the way he sank back upon the sand, all +the wildness and fierceness gone out of his face, and the crushed, +broken-hearted manner in which his head drooped, that he had given up +the boy. She gathered his head on her knee, as she had often done when +he was a youth, and stroked it tenderly, saying, as her tears +dropped,—</p> + +<p>"Poor chile, poor honey! Hagar's sorry fur ye. It's a dreadful t'ing +not ter know de Lord; ain't it, chile? Can't do nuffin widout him, +somehow. But Hagar hopes ye'll find him; she hopes ye'll find him dis +berry night. 'Pears like he ain't fur off dis awful night; an', O Lord +Jesus!"—folding her hands reverently, and looking toward the sea as +if she saw her Redeemer walking there,—"come an' bress dis poor +broken heart dat can't find ye. It's jes' waitin' fur de bressin', +an' 'pears like 'twould faint ter def ef ye didn't come. Come, Lord, +come."</p> + +<p>The night wore slowly on. The "Gull" began to break in pieces and +float ashore. The fishermen had enough to do to snatch the boxes and +bales which the sea hurled up. As yet, none of the "Gull's" more +precious freight of life had made its way through the sea to the +shore. Dirk was watching keenly for it. A half-dozen draggled, fearful +women had stolen down from their houses, and were standing by the +fire, whispering and talking in undertones, with many glances of pity +at the figure lying prone on the sand with its head in the old black +woman's lap.</p> + +<p>"Alack!" said Dirk, with a great sigh, "it wur a fine lad. I never +knowed kinder nor better. Ye ken all say that, women, an' this be the +sorriest night I ever knowed, 'cept when my little gal died. He wur +good to my little gal, the lad wur, an' he giv' me a bit o' flower to +put on the sand where she be sleepin', an' it growed an' growed an' +blossomed, an' the blossom wur like a great blue eye,—like my little +gal's eye,—an' many's the night after fishin' I've gone up ter the +buryin'-place ter look at it. An' now the lad himself be gone," said +Dirk, wiping his eyes and snuffling.</p> + +<p>"Ay, it be a heavy night!" moaned the women, wiping their eyes with +the corners of their aprons.</p> + +<p>A great heap of bales and boxes and bits of the "Gull's" timbers was +accumulating on the sand by the fire. The women sat down on them, +keeping up their low talk and whispers, and watching the two silent +figures the other side of the fire. The man moved not a muscle. The +old negress bent over him, stroking his forehead and whispering and +crooning. Only once he had said, chokingly, "My Noll!—all that was +left to me," and now lay passive and unheeding, overwhelmed and +crushed by the sense of his loss and the consciousness that the sea +had quenched the brave, bright life forever.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph173" id="glyph173"></a> +<img src="images/fig017.jpg" alt="glyph 17" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph93" id="glyph93"></a> +<img src="images/fig009.jpg" width="400" height="156" alt="glyph 9" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Waiting</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he long, long, weary night gave way to a gray and gloomy dawn. The +tempest had not abated, and the sea thundered as furiously as ever. +The wet and shivering women had gone back to their houses and their +little ones; and as the cold, steely light of the coming day began to +whiten in the east, Hagar made her way back to her kitchen, where she +kindled a fire to warm her numb limbs. Never more, she +thought,—rocking to and fro before the pleasant blaze,—could the old +house be bright or cheerful. The sea had quenched its life and its +joy, and never again would the merry voice echo in the great rooms, or +the quick, eager steps sound along the hall and in at her +kitchen-door.</p> + +<p>"O good, bressed Lord!" moaned she, "bress yer poor chil'en dat's lef' +behind! 'Pears like dey was jes' ready ter fall down an' faint ter def +ef ye didn't hold 'em up. O Lord, keep Hagar up, an' 'vent her from +'strustin' ye! Bress us, Lord, fur we ain't nuffin dis yer time. Ye's +all we hab ter hold on ter."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Trafford and the fishermen lingered on the shore, waiting +for the sea to give up its dead. The east grew whiter, and light +broke dimly over the waste of waves, and faintly showed them where the +"Gull" had struck. There was not much left of the little craft,—only +a few timbers and the taper point of a mast, wedged in between some +outlying rocks, which the sea thundered over. It was a dreary +sight,—the vast, immeasurable waste lashed into foam, and dimly +discerned through the gray gleaming of the dawn, with the bit of wreck +swaying in the wares, where those lives had gone out in the awful +thunder and darkness; but Trafford gazed upon it with a calm face. +Groans and lamentation could not express the agony which rent his +heart, and he walked up and down the drenched sand with a calm, white +face that awed Dirk whenever he looked upon it.</p> + +<p>"It be a heavier stroke for the master an' we ken tell, lads," he +said to his comrades, as they kept keen lookout for the poor bodies +which the sea still kept.</p> + +<p>"Ay, there be a heart within him like the rest of us," said one of the +fishermen, looking at Trafford as he kept his watchful vigil; "an' he +be only losin' what we hev lost afore."</p> + +<p>"But the lad wur not like ours," said Dirk, pityingly, "an' it wur a +finer lad an' ever I see afore."</p> + +<p>So they talked as they watched and waited, and the light grew, and +somewhere behind the lowering banks of clouds in the east the sun had +risen, and all the land and sea lay cold and warmthless and forlorn. +Trafford relinquished not his keen search for a moment, fearful lest +the waves should cast his lost treasure at his feet and snatch it back +before he could grasp it. The dear face might be bruised and battered +by the cruel, remorseless sea, and the eyes could never beam upon him +with any light of love or recognition, he thought; yet find it and +look upon it he must, even though the sight agonized him. So he +watched and waited, with his tearless eyes roaming along the line of +foam.</p> + +<p>An hour fled. The sea relented, and gave up one poor form into the +fishermen's hands. Trafford walked calmly out to where the men were +bending over it with pale, awed faces, and saw that it was not Noll. +He shivered, looking at the skipper's stalwart figure, and wondered +whether, if the sailor but had the power of speech, he might not tell +him something of his boy,—whether he met death's dark face calmly and +fearlessly, and whether he sent a message to those whom he saw on the +shore and could not call to. This thought gave him fresh anguish. If +Noll had sent him a farewell,—a last message,—oh, what would he not +give to hear it? But, if that were really the case, it had died with +those to whom it was intrusted. The sea would never whisper it,—the +dead could not. He went back to his lonely pacing.</p> + +<p>Another long, long hour passed. The bit of wreck that was jammed +between the rocks went to pieces and came ashore. Ben's mate came with +it, but no Noll. The men began to straggle homeward, weary and worn +with the night's vigil, till only Dirk and Hark Darby were left to +keep the stricken master of the stone house company. Oh, such a weary +waiting it was!—the ceaseless pouring of the waves upon the sand +filling their ears with clamor, and the fearful tide bringing them +not the treasure which they sought. Would the sea never give it up? +Was the dear form caught and held by the entangling arms of some +purple weed in the sea depths? or was it cradled in the calm, +unruffled quiet of some crevice of the rocks?</p> + +<p>"Oh, cruel, cruel sea!" he cried to himself, "to rob me of my boy, and +refuse to give back the poor boon of his body."</p> + +<p>It never came. The morning wore on to noon, the noon to night, and +still the lonely watcher paced up and down. Toward night the tempest +abated, and the turmoil of the sea subsided somewhat. The gray clouds +broke and let through a slant mist of yellow sunshine as the sun +departed, and the storm was over. Its work was done; and as the clouds +fled in ragged squadrons, the calm, untroubled stars shone out over +the sea, and mocked, with their deep, unutterable peace, the aching, +wretched heart of him who still kept up his lonely pacing. Trafford's +eyes suddenly caught sight of their silvery glitter, and he stopped, +looking up at them, while the sudden thought flashed through his mind, +"Is my boy up there? beyond those shining worlds, in that happy heaven +which he trusted in?"</p> + +<p>The thought held him silent and motionless. It had not entered his +heart before. He had been searching for the lad upon this dreary, +sea-beaten shore, without a thought of anything beyond. Was he really +standing upon a heavenly shore, where no waves beat nor tempest raved, +and, perhaps, looking down upon his own lonely vigil?</p> + +<p>There was something in this thought which brought a great calm upon +his heart. True, the boy was no less dead nor separated from him; the +merry voice was no less hushed to him for all his life and journeying, +and the echo of his footsteps might never float down from heavenly +paths to gladden his ears; yet, though he realized this, there was a +wonderful peace and joy in thinking of the lad as happy and joyous in +a sphere where nothing would ever blight his happiness; where he had +found those who bore him a great love and had been long waiting for +his coming. Trafford sat down on the great pile of broken timbers, and +once more looked upward at the stars. Pure and unwavering their gentle +eyes looked down at him. And then peaceful as an angel's whisper, came +the remembered words of one who was an angel too: "Oh, Richard! don't +fail—don't fail to find Him and cling to Him, and come up,—come up +too."</p> + +<p>Why, oh, why, of all times, did this gentle breathing come to him +here? It seemed to Trafford as if his wife's lips had whispered it +close to his ear, and he bowed his head upon his breast, while his +breath came quick and fast, and bitter tears of grief stood in his +eyes. Had God taken his treasures, one after another, and placed them +in that heaven which they all looked forward to, that his own wayward, +straying heart might be drawn thither? Was this last loss meant to be +the great affliction which, through love, should turn his heart toward +God and his kingdom? He could not tell; his heart was strangely +stirred and melted within him. It seemed to him as if that angel +whisper had driven the great burden of despair and agony out of his +heart by its gentle breathing, and left it broken and sorrowful, yet +not without peace and hope. He looked up at the stars and thought of +Noll, and wept. They were not tears of agony, and he did not rave and +groan. A slow step came along the sand, turning hither and thither, as +if in quest of some one. It drew near Trafford, at last, and a +tremulous old voice said,—</p> + +<p>"Is dis ye, Mas'r Dick? Hagar's glad 'nough ter find ye, anyhow. +'Pears like she couldn't stay up ter de house, nohow,—'twas so +lonesome."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, Hagar," said the man, without raising his head.</p> + +<p>The twilight was so thick that the old negress could not see the +speaker's face, but a certain tremble and softness of his voice did +not escape her notice.</p> + +<p>"Have ye foun' de Lord, Mas'r Dick?" she asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>"I know not what I have found," Trafford answered, while his tears +fell; "but if I might find his face, and know that it smiled upon me, +I should care for little else."</p> + +<p>"Now praise de Lord!" said Hagar, fervently; "dat's more'n ye ever +felt afore. Thar's help fur ye, Mas'r Dick, an' 'tain't fur off!"</p> + +<p>"Too far for me to find it!" said Trafford; "he does not smile upon +those who have rejected him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, chile!" said Hagar, in a shocked tone; "don't ye know de Lord's +all mercy an' lubbin' kin'ness? Don't ye know he won't 'spise an' hate +ye jes' as ef he was like a man? Oh, honey! Hagar's feared ter hear ye +talk like dat. 'Pears as ef ye made de Lord jes' like poor, eble, +good-fur-nuffin man."</p> + +<p>Trafford made no reply. A sudden darkness seemed shutting down upon +him. It was as if a great golden gleam had fallen out of heaven upon +him, warming and softening his heart, and when he turned with tears +and joy to look along its pathway heavenward, it vanished and left him +groping in confusion and dismay. He got up from off his seat, saying, +mournfully,—</p> + +<p>"The brightness is all gone from me! I'm in doubt and fear. Oh, how +can I ever find his face?—and how can he ever smile upon me who have +rejected him?"</p> + +<p>Hagar sighed heavily as she said, "Ye don't 'preciate de Lord, chile. +Ye talks jes' as ef he was a man, an' could feel 'vengeful towards ye! +Don't s'pose any <i>man</i> could forgive ye, honey, but de bressed Lord +is all lub,—Hagar knows <i>dat</i>,—an' Jesus died jes' as much fur ye as +he did fur anybody. Ye's got to look to dat bressed Lord Jesus, an' ef +ye looks hard 'nough, ye'll find him. Oh, Hagar t'anks de Lord frum de +bottom ob her heart fur yer feelin' so to-night."</p> + +<p>"But I have not found him! He is hidden from me!" said Trafford.</p> + +<p>"But ye will ef ye looks long enough!" said Hagar, cheerfully; "he'll +come out ob de darkness to ye: bimeby. Bress ye, chile, dis ole woman +was lookin' an' seekin' an' stribin' in mis'ry till she was 'bout +ready to give up in 'spair; but I foun' him at las', an' he nebber +'sook Hagar,—nebber!"</p> + +<p>The sea was growing calmer with every hour that passed. But it was +rough and thunderous still, and its wave-crests gleamed whitely under +the starlight. Trafford at last remembered the lateness of the hour, +and said, "Come, Hagar, this is no place for us. We will go in."</p> + +<p>The two slowly made their way along the shore up to the dark and +deserted stone house. Hagar smothered the sigh that rose up from her +heart as the silence and loneliness smote upon it, and led the way +around to her kitchen-door.</p> + +<p>"Poor chile! ye habn't had nuffin to eat dis day," said she, after +they were once within her little dominion and she had kindled the +fire; "go into de libr'y, honey, an' I'll hab ye sumfin' purty quick."</p> + +<p>But Trafford shook his head, saying, "Not there!—not there, yet!" and +sat down on the bench by the fire.</p> + +<p>Hagar moved wearily about from the cupboard to the table, saying to +herself,—</p> + +<p>"What ye t'inkin' ob, Hagar, to tell him dat? Dar's all poor Mas'r +Noll's books an' t'ings lyin' 'bout eberywhar, an' how ken de poor +chile stan' it? De Lord's han' is heaby upon him, an', O good Lord +Jesus, jes' come an' bress de poor chile an' sabe him!"</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph112" id="glyph112"></a> +<img src="images/fig011.jpg" alt="glyph 11" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph152" id="glyph152"></a> +<img src="images/fig015.jpg" width="400" height="159" alt="glyph 15" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Days of Calm</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgh.jpg" alt="H" title="H" /></div><p>e found it at last,—the peace which comes after a long, weary, +despairing struggle. But it was not easily won. It seemed to Trafford +as if God had hidden himself in a thick, awful darkness, through which +not the faintest ray of light or hope could glimmer upon his heavy, +despairing heart. He sought for him as one who, feeling himself in +the grasp of Death, would seek for Life. He had long rejected him and +put him away; now, in his hour of anguish and extremity, his face and +his peace were hard to find. Never had such utter silence reigned in +the stone house since its occupancy as reigned there now. Hagar kept +mostly within her own province, and Trafford sat day after day in the +dining-room, hardly stirring from thence. He had not entered the +library since the night of the shipwreck, neither had Hagar stepped +within the room, where all Noll's books and shells and treasures +gathered from the sea lay, and where everything hinted of the sunny, +joyous life which once had made the great room cheerful. Neither +looked within, as if they dreaded to recall the dear and pleasant +vision of the curly-haired boy who had lived and studied there. These +were the days in which Trafford groped in darkness and despondency. +Hagar set the table by his side, and brought him his meals, and +carried away the untasted viands, with much sighing and regret, but, +nevertheless, with joy in her heart.</p> + +<p>"'Pears as ef 'twas a drefful t'ing fur de poor chile ter be suff'rin' +so," she would sigh to herself as she watched his worn and heavy face +on her passages through the room; "but Hagar's t'ankful 'nough to see +it, 'cause de poor chile'll find de Lord bimeby. Bress de Lord! Mas'r +Dick'll find him some time!"</p> + +<p>A long and weary week passed away. Without, the world had never been +fairer, nor the sea lovelier. No storms lashed it, and the great world +of waves glittered calm and untroubled under the sun, with no hint of +death or woe in its purple evening lights or its bright morning +gleams.</p> + +<p>Then, after this long seeking, a faint hope began to dawn in +Trafford's heart. He did not dare to give it heed or trust at +first,—he who had been in despair so long,—and when, at last, he +began to put forth feeble, trembling anticipations of the peace and +joy which might come when God's smile and forgiveness shone upon him, +this little ray of hope broadened and grew warmer and brighter, and he +began to look up out of his depths of anguish. It was long coming,—it +seemed at times to be utterly unattainable,—it was sometimes almost +within his heart, and then it fled from him; but at last it came, and +abode with him,—this peace which a poor, wandering soul feels after +it has found its Lord. Then he was at rest. He came out into Hagar's +kitchen one sunshiny afternoon, and, in answer to the old negress' +look of wonder and surprise at seeing him there, said, with a grave +joy thrilling his words,—</p> + +<p>"Hagar, I have found him; and I do not think that his peace will ever +leave me, or that my heart will ever forget him."</p> + +<p>Hagar got up off the bench where she was sitting, and came slowly +forward, saying, brokenly, "Bress de Lord, bress de Lord! dat's all +Hagar ken say. Oh, chile, ef ye knew how dis ole heart felt ter hear +ye say dem words! ef ye only c'u'd know! But ye nebber will till dis +ole woman gits such a tongue as de Lord'll gib her when she gets ter +heaben. Den Hagar ken tell ye!"</p> + +<p>She followed him to the door, and sat down there in the sunshine, +softly blessing him again and again as she watched him follow the +thread of a path which led around to the piazza. Trafford paused +here, on the smooth sand by the piazza-steps, and looked out upon the +sea. It was like a new sea, and the very earth seemed not as of old, +for now God reigned over them, and it was his sunshine which fell so +brightly and broadly everywhere, and his smile and the knowledge of +his forgiveness which filled his heart with such utter peace and +tranquillity. This great joy and calm held him quiet for a little +space, and, when he turned about, his eyes fell upon the little +breadth of grass waving there by the step. One or two gay, crimson +asters nodded in the warm wind, planted there by the same hand that +watered and cared for the bit of turf. Trafford sat down by them, +stroking the turf's green blades, and gazing at the warm-hued flowers +through tears. "Gone—gone," they seemed to whisper as they softly +rustled. Somehow these tender, soulless things brought up the boy's +memory most vividly. He remembered how Noll sat on the same bit of +turf only those two short weeks ago with the warm wind blowing his +curly locks about his eyes while he looked off upon the sea. Who +thought of danger or death then? Who thought of death lying in wait in +that calm, shadowy sea? Trafford's tears fell thick and fast upon the +green blades, thinking of the lad. Did ever the sea quench a fairer, +brighter life? he wondered,—a life fuller of rich and generous +promise? Yet, only two short weeks ago,—short, in reality, but slow +and long in passing,—the boy had sat upon this little breadth of +verdure full of life and spirits and happiness.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" sighed he, "I knew not a treasure I possessed till it passed +from me. Now that I have lost it, I see what a blissful life I might +have made for myself and it. God forgive me! but I was harsh and cruel +to the boy. I made his life darker and less joyous than it ought to +have been."</p> + +<p>He sat here for a long time, till once more his face was calm and +undisturbed. Sometime, he thought, he might meet the boy face to face, +and tell him all that his heart longed to unburden itself of. He rose +up, at last, and went slowly in, pausing at the library-door. After a +few seconds of indecision, he opened it, and went softly in. The room +was cold and chilly from its long unoccupancy; but through one of the +high windows, and along the floor, streamed a broad bar of cheerful +sunlight. It fell right across Noll's study-table and the chair which +he was wont to occupy. Trafford moved forward, sat down in the chair, +and looked about him with misty eyes. Traces of the boy's presence +everywhere! The familiar school-books, open to the last lessons which +Trafford had heard him recite; bits of paper, with sums and solutions +traced thereon; copies of the fine and feathery sea-moss, which it was +the boy's delight to gather, with odd pebbles and shells, met his gaze +on either hand. He took up a scrap of paper from among the rest, and +found something thereon which the boy had written, evidently in an +idle moment. Trafford, however, read it not without emotion. It merely +said:—</p> + +<p>"<i>Wednes., Aug. 24.</i>—This is a long, gray, rainy day, and I have not +stirred out of the house. I am at this moment (or ought to be) +studying my Latin lesson. Uncle Richard has not spoken a word to me +since breakfast. I wish I knew what made him look so grim and sober +to-day, and I <i>do</i> wish he would speak to me. When the fog lifted just +now, I fancied I saw a ship on the horizon, bound for Hastings, I +suppose. Oh, but I—"</p> + +<p>Here the slight record was broken off. Perhaps the boy had gone back +to his Latin, or perhaps the passing ship had taken his thoughts along +with it to Hastings, and thus left the half-commenced exclamation +unfinished. Trafford read and reread the little bit of paper, and +folded it carefully, and put it away with the precious letter which +the boy's father had written on his dying-bed. Then he began to +gather up Noll's books, thinking to put them out of his sight, but +stopped before he had taken the third in his hand. Why hide them? Why +shut them up in darkness, as if some evil, dreaded memory were +connected with the sight of them? Had not everything about the boy and +his life been bright and pleasant to think of? He put the books back +in their places, saying to himself, "They shall stay where they are. +Hagar shall not move them, and I will have them before my eyes alway, +just as his dear hands left them? Why should I try to hide aught that +his blessed memory lingers around?"</p> + +<p>So he left everything just as Noll's hands had placed them last, and +rose up from his chair, and went to his old familiar seat by the great +bookcase, where he had sat and pored over great volumes day after +day, and watched the boy at his studies. The portrait on the wall +looked down at him with its soft and tender eyes, and he thought, "Now +I may look at it without its reproaching me; for, dear heart, I have +begun to 'come up.' I have turned my eyes toward thy abode, and, God +helping me, I may some day hear thy own sweet voice. And though I may +never see the boy's face, and rejoice to look upon it as I do upon +thine, yet his pure memory lingers about everything that he loved and +touched, and his face can never be removed from my heart."</p> + +<p>Calm and peaceful days passed, and the third week after the shipwreck +went by, and life in the stone house began to move on as it was wont +to do. Once more the red light from the library-window streamed out +into the night, but there was no Skipper Ben and his "Gull" for it to +guide. Not a sail had been seen near the Rock, and its inhabitants had +been shut out from the rest of mankind for three long weeks. That +which at first was only an inconvenience grew to be a serious matter +at last. The Culm folk, never very provident, exhausted their supply +of flour and meal, and had only fish to eat; and fish, with a little +salt, was not an extensive nor varied bill of fare.</p> + +<p>In some way or another, Hagar discovered that the people had exhausted +all their stores, and through her it came to Trafford's ears.</p> + +<p>"Nuffin but fish ter live on, an' not de greatest plenty o' dat," +Hagar had said, standing beside Trafford's chair in the library.</p> + +<p>The man started, as a sudden remembrance of forgotten duties came +into his mind. He had neglected to look after those Culm people,—he +had forgotten about Noll's school and its pupils. But it should be so +no longer, he resolved at once. That work which the boy loved and +desired to complete, he would take up and carry out. It should be a +pleasure and delight. He would gather up the broken, half-completed +plans, and make it the work of his life to perfect them as Noll would +have done. Now the inmates of the stone house were not well supplied +with provisions, as the winter stores had not been laid in. There was +no telling when another ship would touch at Culm, but, in all +probability, it would be soon. The skipper must have friends +somewhere, who would be searching for his whereabouts. Trafford +divided his supplies with the fishermen, trusting that ere long some +sail would appear, bound for the Rock, or within signalling distance +of it. He walked often by the sea, looking toward Hastings, and trying +in vain to discern some sail bound hitherward. He walked over to Culm +village, and lingered about the little room where Noll's school had +been, and resolved that the plan of a new schoolroom, with good seats, +benches, and a faithful teacher, should be carried out if ever +communication was opened between the Rock and Hastings. And if no +teacher could be got for the winter, he would teach the children +himself. He wondered whether there were any chairs or benches left +from the cargo of the "Gull," remembering that Noll was to bring +school-furniture from Hastings with him; but, though he searched long +and keenly among the timbers and refuse which the sea had thrown up, +he could not find so much as a bit of varnished wood that looked as if +it might have belonged to a desk or chair. At this he wondered, but +thought, "The poor boy was unsuccessful, or else the sea refuses to +give up aught that was his, as well as himself."</p> + +<p>And still he watched and waited for a sail, thinking that if none came +soon, a way must be devised for getting to Hastings.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph1d" id="glyph1d"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 1" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="glyph203" id="glyph203"></a> +<img src="images/fig020.jpg" width="400" height="162" alt="glyph 20" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Out of the Sea</span></h3> +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/imgt.jpg" alt="T" title="T" /></div><p>he fourth week after the shipwreck dragged slowly away,—spent in +watching and waiting for a sail. None came. The lack of good food was +getting to be a serious matter for both Culm folk and the inmates of +the stone house. Trafford's stores were well-nigh exhausted, and the +last day of that long fourth week was spent in company with Dirk +Sharp and some of his comrades, devising plans by which they might +communicate with Hastings. The master of the stone house walked +homeward after his conference with the fishermen, and paused in the +gathering dusk on the spot where he had stood that fearful night when +the "Gull" and her crew were on the rocks in the awful roar and +thunder of the tempest. How silent and peaceful it all lay now,—the +sea purpling in its calm and shadowy depths, its waves faintly +murmuring on the pebbles, and, overhead, the arch of silvery sky +bending down to the far horizon, full of the tender lights of the +after-glow! Only one month since that fearful night, yet how far in +the dim past the event seemed! What a great darkness and despair he +had struggled through! How full and real every minute of those four +weeks had been! And, as he stood there, such strong and tender +memories of the lad he had lost came back to him that he turned away +with a throbbing heart, and walked homeward along the sand with a +bowed head, and so failed to see the white gleaming of a sail which +rose out of the sea and stood toward the Rock. The lingering daylight +touched it with a rosy flush as the rising night-breeze bore it +steadily onward; but Trafford saw it not, and went up the +piazza-steps, and into the stone house, without turning his eyes +seaward.</p> + +<p>He ate his scanty supper, which Hagar—poor heart!—had placed upon +the table with a wonderful display of dishes, as if to make up for the +lack of food by a board spread with cups and plates enough for a +feast, and then took his way to the silent library. He sat down at +his organ, and from its long-silent pipes drew soft and tender music +that filled the room and stole gently through the house. The tears +came into Hagar's eyes as she listened to it.</p> + +<p>"'Pears as ef de angels was singin'," she said, wiping her cheeks. +"Hagar wonders ef de Lord'll gib her a voice like dat when she gets +ter glory."</p> + +<p>It died away at last in gentle, tremulous whispers, and Trafford +walked to the window and looked out. Twilight had settled so thickly +that the sea was quite hidden, save a faint glimmer of ripples along +the sand. Deep quiet reigned over land and sea, and nowhere with such +undisputed sway as in the stone house. Trafford lit his study-lamp and +sat down, with no desire, however, to read or study. Hardly had he +seated himself, when, with startling suddenness, a shrill scream broke +upon the deep quiet. It was Hagar's voice, and the cry came from her +kitchen; and before Trafford had recovered from his surprise, there +was a little sound of commotion in her distant province,—doors were +thrown open, voices echoed, and then along the silent hall came a +sound—the rush of eager feet—that drove every trace of color from +Trafford's face, as well it might, and made his heart beat so loud and +wildly that he pressed his hands over it to stay its tumultuous +beating. He started up, gazing with wide-open eyes at the +library-door, while at every echo of those coming footsteps, he +started and trembled, and grew faint with anticipation. The door burst +open, and there stood—Noll Trafford!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"> +<a name="richardgrey2" id="richardgrey2"></a> +<img src="images/itsigrey.jpg" width="430" height="550" alt="It's I, Uncle Richard" title="" /> +</div> + + +<h5>"It's I, Uncle Richard".</h5> + +<p>One moment the boy paused, perhaps frightened by the white face of the +man who sat gazing motionlessly at him, then he bounded forward, +crying, "It's I, Uncle Richard!—your own Noll!"</p> + +<p>Trafford's arms did not clasp the boy about; his tongue refused to +articulate; his heart could not take in this great, overwhelming joy. +But Noll's arms were about his neck, the boy's warm breath was upon +his cheek, and in his ears was the lad's whisper, "It's I,—I, Uncle +Richard! no one else!"</p> + +<p>Then the man began to sigh, just as if he were awakening from a long +and troubled dream, and presently he put out his hand and touched the +boy's cheeks, as if to assure himself that it was not all a vision, +and then he said, chokingly, "My boy,—<i>mine</i>! O God! I don't deserve +this."</p> + +<p>His arms clasped the lad in one long, fervent embrace. He bent his +head over the curly locks, and wept for joy, stroking the lad's +shoulders and pressing his hands the while, as if he were not yet sure +that the boy was a reality. He looked upon him as one from the dead. +Had the sea given him up?—had that terrible tempest spared him in its +wild fury? Why had the boy lingered so long? Where had he been +sojourning all these long weeks? But too happy in the consciousness +that it was really Noll, safe and unharmed, who was before him, to +care for aught further at present, he sat silently holding the boy's +hands, while his heart gave grateful thanks to God.</p> + +<p>"Poor Uncle Richard!" said the boy, at last.</p> + +<p>Trafford's lips moved, and with an effort he said, "No, no,—not +<i>poor</i>! I'm rich, rich!—<i>so</i> rich! O God, help me! I can't believe my +own happiness."</p> + +<p>"But it's really I, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, assuringly; "you've +felt my hands, my face, my shoulders, and aren't they alive and warm?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is really you, thank God!" said Trafford, drawing a long +breath, while he gazed upon the merry face that he never more expected +to see on earth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and oh, Uncle Richard, you can't know how I longed to see you, +to tell you that I was alive and safe! I knew you would worry, but I +didn't think you'd think me dead. I didn't think <i>that</i> till we got to +Culm, and Dirk and all the rest trembled, and were actually going to +run away from me!"</p> + +<p>"Then you have not been harmed?" said Trafford: "but oh, my boy, +where were you on that awful night?"</p> + +<p>"Safe and sound, with Ned Thorn, at Hastings, Uncle Richard, and not +even dreaming of danger or shipwreck. You see, the furniture was not +ready, and I hadn't found a teacher, and so I stayed. Ned and I went +down to the wharf the night before the 'Gull' was to sail, and carried +a letter to the skipper to give to you, telling you why I couldn't +come; but poor Ben never got here alive, and the letter was lost with +him, I suppose. Oh, Uncle Richard, if I <i>had</i> started,—if the +furniture had been ready—"</p> + +<p>"Thank God it was not!" interrupted Trafford, presently; "he watched +over you, he stayed your coming, and now he has brought you out of the +sea, as it were, to me. Oh, Noll!"</p> + +<p>The boy looked up eagerly. "Have—have you found the Lord Jesus, Uncle +Richard?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Trafford's hands rested tenderly on the boy's head. "Yes," he said, +with a great calm and peace in his voice, "I found him through great +sorrow and grief. I think God led me through all this suffering that +my heart might be softened and turned toward him. And now this Saviour +has brought you back to me!"</p> + +<p>A deep silence followed, full of unutterable joy. Trafford reverently +bent his head, his lips quivering with emotion, and with his nephew's +hands clasped in his, silently thanked God for his goodness, for this +great joy which was come into his life, for this precious lad that was +dead and now was alive again. It seemed as if God had brought him out +of the sea to him. At last Noll said, taking up his explanation where +he had left it off,—</p> + +<p>"After we had given the letter to the skipper, I thought no more about +it, and Ned and I were busy enough with seeing about the furniture for +a day or two, and we didn't notice the storm, or even think of the +'Gull' being in danger. And Mr. Gray helped me to find a teacher, and +we were so busy with plans that the time passed away before I knew it, +and when I came to go down on the wharf to engage a passage with Ben, +the men said the 'Gull' had never got back from her last trip, and +they were afraid it was lost. Ned didn't believe there had been a +shipwreck, neither did Mr. Gray. He said that most likely the skipper +had been kept by some business, or perhaps the 'Gull' had gone farther +down the coast than usual. Oh, Uncle Richard! we didn't think that +poor Ben was drowned, nor that you thought me wrecked with him."</p> + +<p>Trafford said, "Those were fearful days for me. Go on, go on, Noll."</p> + +<p>"We went down to the wharf every night till another week was gone, and +then, we began to be certain that Ben was either wrecked or sick, and +I began to be anxious to get some word to you. I thought that perhaps +you might be worried about me, though Mr. Gray said that if the 'Gull' +was wrecked anywhere near Culm, you could not help but know I was not +on board. We waited and waited till the three weeks were gone, and +then some of Ben's friends began to talk of going in search of him. +But it was only till last night that they were ready to go, and we +came off before daylight this morning. Oh, the time has seemed so +long, Uncle Richard! but here I am, safe and sound, once more."</p> + +<p>Trafford looked at his nephew as if he could yet hardly believe his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"And you should have seen Dirk and the rest!" continued Noll; "why, he +wouldn't speak to me at first, but was going to run away; but when he +did find that it was really I, he cried like a great child. He said +that you thought me dead,—you can't know how I felt when he said +that, Uncle Richard,—and so Ned and I didn't wait any longer, but ran +all the way here. I can think, now, why you looked so white when I +came in at the door!"</p> + +<p>Trafford stroked the boy's hair, saying, "I never thought to hear the +echoes of your feet again. God knows. Oh, my boy, <i>you</i> can never +know what this night has brought to me. He who led you thither only +can. But whose name did you mention?"</p> + +<p>"Ned's; he came down with me, Uncle Richard, for it's vacation at +Hastings. We came up to the kitchen-door, because Hagar's light shone +so brightly, and what do you think? she threw up her hands and +screamed at the sight of me. But it didn't take long to make her +certain that I was real, and not a vision. And, oh, there's one thing +I'd forgotten! The new teacher is at Culm, waiting for Dirk to come +over with his trunks. It's one of papa's old scholars, Uncle Richard, +and his name is Henry Fields. He worked with papa in the old sea-town +where we lived, and he's come down to work here at Culm among our +fish-folk. I like him very much, and you can't help but like him, +too; and we've brought a cargo of benches and desks all ready to—"</p> + +<p>The library-door began to swing softly open,—not so softly, however, +but that Noll heard and stopped.</p> + +<p>"It's Ned," he said, looking over his shoulder. "Come in!"</p> + +<p>Ned came shyly around to where they were sitting, his usually merry +face sobered by something which he perceived in the faces of his +friends before him. A silence fell upon them here. Ned leaned against +his friend, looking soberly at Trafford's rapt face, and wondering +where all the man's grimness and gloominess had gone. And just then a +sudden thought came into Noll's heart, and he said, looking up +brightly,—</p> + +<p>"It's a year this very night since I came to you, Uncle Richard! +Don't you remember? What a long, long time!"</p> + +<p>Trafford said, "Yes, I remember. Through all the days since then God +has been teaching me, and he has led me on to this; and, oh! my boy, +the sea may never divide us again, for, though through its dark floods +we go down to death, beyond there is light and God and heaven!" And in +his voice there was peace unutterable.</p> + +<p><br /></p> +<p><br /></p> + +<p>If this Story of a Year, and what it taught, is not already too long, +you may know that a schoolhouse was built at Culm, and that Henry +Fields proved a good and faithful teacher; that a stanch, new "White +Gull" was built, and one of Skipper Ben's sea-loving sons was its +captain; that the Culm children and their parents slowly improved in +more ways than one under the constant, unfailing care and effort of +Trafford and his nephew; that the Rock was not always Noll Trafford's +home, but exchanged for a pleasanter one in Hastings, though the old +stone house was often brightened by his presence, and never got to be +entirely gloomy and deserted again.</p> + + +<p><br /></p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="glyph44" id="glyph44"></a> +<img src="images/fig004.jpg" alt="glyph 4" title="" /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Culm Rock, by Glance Gaylord + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CULM ROCK *** + +***** This file should be named 20524-h.htm or 20524-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/2/20524/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, David T. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Culm Rock + The Story of a Year: What it Brought and What it Taught + +Author: Glance Gaylord + +Release Date: February 6, 2007 [EBook #20524] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CULM ROCK *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, David T. Jones, Bill Tozier +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + CULM ROCK, + + The Story of a Year: + + WHAT IT BROUGHT AND WHAT IT TAUGHT. + + BY + GLANCE GAYLORD. + + + + + BOSTON: + + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by + HENRY HOYT, +In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. + + INNES AND NILES, + Stereotypers and Printers, + 37 Cornhill, Boston. + + + + CONTENTS. + + Chapter Page + + I.--The Old Stone House 5 + + II.--Letters 21 + + III.--On the "White Gull" 37 + + IV.--Disappointments 53 + + V.--The First Evening 71 + + VI.--Culm Sights 89 + + VII.--How the Month was spent 107 + + VIII.--Noll's Decision 124 + + IX.--Dirk's Trouble 142 + + X.--In the Sea 159 + + XI.--Dirk's Treasure 177 + + XII.--Firelight Talk 195 + + XIII.--The Winter's Waning 219 + + XIV.--Ned Thorn 236 + + XV.--Plans 254 + + XVI.--The Work Begun 272 + + XVII.--The Work Progressing 288 + +XVIII.--The Work Finished 304 + + XIX.--A Happy Walk 320 + + XX.--New Thoughts and New Plans 336 + + XXI.--In Peril of the Sea 353 + + XXII.--Weary Watching 367 + +XXIII.--Waiting 384 + + XXIV.--Days of Calm 400 + + XXV.--Out of the Sea 416 + +[Transcriber's Note: In this e-text, italics have been denoted by +enclosing the affected text in underscores] + + + +CULM ROCK. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE OLD STONE HOUSE. + + + Culm Rock was a wild place. You might search the coast for miles and +not find another bit of nature so bare and rent and ragged as this. So +fiercely had the storms driven over it, so wildly had the wind and +waves beat, that the few cedars which once flourished as its only bit +of greenness were long ago dead, and now held up only bleached and +ragged hands. Jutting out into the sea, the surf rolled and thundered +along its jagged shore of rock and sand, and was never silent. It +would have been an island but for the narrow strips of sand, heaped +high and ridgelike, which bound it to the main land; and this slender +bridge, it often seemed, would be torn away by the ravenous sea which +gnawed and engulfed great tracts at once, and yet heaped it higher and +broader in the next storm. Beyond, on the firm and unyielding land, +the pine woods stood up, vast, dim, and silent, stretching away into +the interior. So, with the great dark barrier of forest behind and the +waste of shining sea in front, Culm Rock seemed shut out from all the +rest of the world. True, sails flitted along the horizon, and the +smoke of foreign-bound steamers trailed against the sky, giving token +of the great world's life and stir; and there were Skipper Ben and the +"White Gull" who touched at the little wharf at Culm every week; but +for these, the people--for there were people who dwelt here--might +have lived in another sphere for aught they knew or were conscious of +what was transpiring in the wonderful land which lay beyond the +stretch of sea, and between which and themselves the "White Gull" was +the only means of communication. + + Do you wonder that people could spend their lives here, die, and never +have seen the world without? There were only a dozen houses,--poor, +racked, weather-beaten things, nestled on a bit of sand on a far +corner of Culm,--inhabited by fishermen and their families. They were +rough, hardy folk, but ignorant, and with only ambition enough to get +their living out of the great sea, and a poor and scanty enough living +at that. Skipper Ben brought them molasses and calicoes down in the +"White Gull," and took their fish in exchange; and if he told them a +bit of news from the great city and the greater world, it was all very +well. If he failed to do this, it was all very well too. + + Back of the fisher huts, the rocks rose high and dark, and quite hid +the pine woods and the isthmus of yellow sand, and everything that +could make Culm at all cheery or pleasant. This eminence was Wind +Cliff, and served as a landmark for all the sailors whose path lay +along the coast. Around this the gulls were alway flitting and +screaming, and their nests were everywhere in the crevices of the +rocks. Bald and gray it rose, scarred and rent with storms and age, +and so steep as to be almost inaccessible. It fronted the north-west, +and from its sharp tip the rock sloped south to the sea, and held in +one of its great hollows down by the shore a house--such a house as +you would not have looked for at Culm--with walls of stone and tall, +ancient chimneys and deep-set windows, like eyes looking forever at +the sea. + + It was so dark and weather-beaten that at first sight you might almost +fancy it to be but some quaint, odd shape which the rocks had taken, +by dint of the stress of winds and waves beating upon them for long +ages. But a house it was, and made by human hands, and human beings +dwelt in it. At night the red light from its windows streamed out upon +the water, and in many a dark and tempestuous watch had Skipper Ben +guided the "White Gull" into port through the friendly gleaming of +this beacon. For a long period of years the old house had stood empty +and tenantless, the windows and doors broken and gone, the wind +sweeping through and the rain beating in, and everything but the stout +walls and chimneys a ruin. The superstitious fishermen would not +inhabit it, and told tales of smugglers and pirates who made it their +haunt, with other fanciful stories which always seem to linger about +the sea, and in which there was not the faintest shadow of truth. +Desolate and neglected, it stood there year after year, till, one day, +Skipper Ben brought down carpenters and masons on the "White Gull," +and straightway they went at work upon the old house. Doors went up, +windows went in, a piazza pushed itself out towards the sea-front, +and there was great bustle and activity about it for weeks. Then the +laborers went away, and when the skipper came again, he brought, +instead of groceries and store-cloth, a great quantity of furniture, +the like of which the poor people at Culm Rock had never seen, and +with the furniture came the master of the new house--a sorrowful, +bowed man--and his housekeeper, a thin, wrinkled negro woman. + + Then the smoke curled out of the great stone chimneys once more, the +light streamed from the windows at night, and the fishermen and +sailors rejoiced that at last the old house had found a tenant and no +longer yawned bare and empty. The "White Gull" came more than once +with a cargo for the master of the stone house, who, the skipper told +the Culm folk, "was a mighty rich man, but the down-heartedest chap +he'd ever cast eyes on. Why, man, he just sot lookin' over the rail +the best part o' the way down, with his eyes in the water, and said no +more nor a stone. What ye think? Now lookee here, men, let me give ye +a bit o' advice. Don't ye go to pesterin' him with yer talk and yer +questions; fur he's diff'rent make 'an I be, an' 'twon't do. Let him +alone, an' keep yer own side o' the Rock." + + The skipper's word was looked upon with respect by all the fish-folk, +and they heeded his advice. So, in consequence, the owner of the stone +mansion was undisturbed, and lived in the greatest seclusion. He never +came within the limits of the little village, and whenever he was +seen, it was only as pacing slowly along the shore. He passed the +fishermen as they were hanging up their seines in the sun without +heeding them, or acknowledging their respectful bows. The old black +housekeeper came down to the village sometimes after fish or gulls' +eggs, but went her way without satisfying the eager questions with +which the women plied her. So one year passed away, then a second, and +the master of the stone house was still as much a mystery to the poor +fishers as ever. He rarely walked upon the sand, gave them not a look +if ever they chanced to meet, and living, apparently, for no one but +himself, took not the slightest interest in their welfare, cared +naught for wreck or disaster on the shore, and seemed always stern and +sorrowful. + + No company ever came down on the "White Gull" to visit this strange +and silent man, and he had no friends, apparently. Skipper Ben +brought stores for him occasionally, and sometimes a letter; but this +last event was a rare one, and the man seemed to have little more +communication with the great world out of which he had come than did +the humble Culm fishermen. With winds and storms, the third year +rolled around, and the master of the old house was still as much of a +recluse as ever; but the Culm people had ceased to regard him with any +interest, and the man led a most solitary life, hardly seeing a human +being, other than his housekeeper, from month to month. Do you wonder +what could make him so stern and sad? Here is his story:-- + + One sweet and golden summer day, a man stood by the bedside of his +wife,--he, crushed and heart-broken; she, faint and dying, but calm +and loving and comforting. She held his hand, and whispered brokenly +such words as she could only hope to comfort him with; and the last +faint whisper which trembled on her lips was, "Oh, Richard, don't +fail--don't fail to--to find Him and cling to Him, and come--come +up--too." And with that she was dead. And the man left the bedside, +and went out into the summer fields, where the birds were flitting and +the bees droning and the wide earth seemed brimming with life and joy, +and prayed that he might die too, since she was gone. But the birds +sang on as joyously as ever, and the sun shone no less brightly +because of the sorrow in the earth, and after his first tears were +shed, his heart began to grow hard and bitter, and he put away the +dying whisper, and went back to the dear dead face, cold and stern. +His friends came to console him, but he would not listen, and after it +was all over, and the gentle face hidden forever under the brown +earth, he began to think of fleeing to some spot where he might find +rest and quietness, and hide himself from all thoughts of the dear one +who had left him, smothering his sorrow, and living as if she had not +been. "I have been robbed," he said, bitterly; "all my happiness has +been stolen from me. I can't seek Him; I will not. Oh, if there is a +kind and merciful God, why has he stricken me? why has he taken all +the joy out of my life? why has he left me without a comforter in the +world?" So, without seeking for a Comforter, without striving to "find +Him," as the dear voice had whispered, he turned away and strove to +crush out the love and the tender memories which haunted his heart, +and most of all that dying whisper which said, "Don't fail--don't fail +to find _Him_." + + Grown suddenly stern and morose, Richard Trafford looked about him for +a refuge where he might flee from all society, and most of all from +the spot where _her_ presence seemed yet to linger. He discovered wild +and solitary Culm Rock, and purchased the old stone house. Here, he +thought, with the everlasting sound of the sea in his ears, with all +the wildness and barrenness about him, and apart from the rest of +mankind, he would bury himself, and forget all the bright and happy +days which had passed. He left his friends without giving them any +clew to his whereabouts, and with faithful old Hagar, who persisted in +following him, took up his abode by the sea. But do you think his +sorrow lessened? Do you think he found peace and happiness again? He +carried his hard and bitter heart with him, and there was no happiness +to be found by the sea. One year after another rolled away until the +three were gone, and still he was wandering along his own thorny path, +bowed with his sorrow, sighing and lamenting for the bright form which +had left him, and still deaf to its whisper, "Find _Him_, and come up +too." He walked on the sands, lonely and desolate; he paced about the +great rooms of the stone house, oppressed and heavy-hearted; he shut +himself up in his library and pored over books in vain. His sorrow +clung to him, followed him everywhere; his heart was stubborn and +bitter and rebellious. Perhaps he despaired of ever losing the +burden, for one day he brought out a portrait, wrapped and swathed +with great care, and, tearing all the veilings off, gazed once more on +the sainted face which he had not looked upon for three long and heavy +years. He did not hide it again, but hung it upon his library wall, +where the tender face and calm and loving eyes looked down and almost +melted him to tears. + + He wondered how he could have kept it veiled and hidden so long. He +wondered if those three years had not been spent in vain, unless it +were to learn that he could not crush out his sweet memories if he +tried. + + He sank down into his chair as he thought of this, and going back over +the three past dreary years, remembered what a weary blank they were, +thought, with a heavy sigh, what a shipwreck his life had been, and +how he was now floating about without rudder or compass or anchor, +merely a drifting wreck. And as he sits there in the sunshine which +streams through the wide, high old window, we will see him for the +first time. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +LETTERS. + + + Richard Trafford was a man of forty; but his hair was tinged with +gray, and grief and wretchedness had worn heavy lines in his face. As +he sat in the library this September afternoon, looking up at the +portrait on the wall, he seemed almost an old man. The room was wide +and high, with tall oaken bookcases at either end. Two great windows, +before one of which he sat, looked out upon the sea and the white line +of foam curling upon the sand. The waves were but mere ripples this +calm afternoon, but from the shore there came up a ceaseless, steady +murmur that made itself heard in the quiet of the room; and by and by +Trafford's eyes turned from the calm face above him and looked out +seaward. White and shining lay the vast expanse, with here and there +the faint film of a sail upon the horizon. Nothing to be seen but +water and the great dome of sky and the little spit of yellow sand +where the tide was murmuring. How many sunny afternoons he had thus +looked out upon the sea, vast and gleaming! How many lonely afternoons +and long, weary nights he had listened to the slow chanting of the +tide, watched it creep up the sand with its puffs of thick foam, +watched it as it slowly receded and left its burden of weed and shell +behind! Flowing and ebbing forever, alway at its work, in and out, in +and out, through storm and shine, through night and day, it seemed to +mock his own idle, useless life, and reproach him with its never +silent voice. Of what use, he wondered as he sat there, was such a +life as his? To-morrow the tide would be at its work again, the ships +go on, the sun shine warm and bright over all,--and he? For him +to-morrow would be but the repetition of to-day; the same dragging +hours, the same apathetic poring over books, the same half-hours at +the organ with the music-books, playing sad melodies which accorded +well with his own sombre feelings. He looked up at the portrait and +sighed; remembered the dear one's dying words, and thought, "I might +have found Him once; but it's too late now. All that passed away a +long time ago, and now,--it's only to plod on and on, year in and year +out, till the end." And what then? + + There came a soft rap at the door. + + "Come in, Hagar," said he, heavily, without taking his eyes off the +sea; and then the door was pushed open, and a head, surmounted by a +great yellow turban, looked in. + + "Somethin' fur you, Mas'r Dick," said the owner of the turban, without +coming in, however. + + "What is it?" said Trafford, abstractedly. + + The door opened wider, and the old housekeeper entered. She was bent +and thin, with great wrinkles in her forehead and face, and wherever a +tuft of wool peeped out from under the fanciful headgear, it showed +quite gray; but her step was quick and firm as she went across the +floor to the figure by the great window. + + "A letter, Mas'r Dick," said she, standing by Trafford's chair; "dat +yer old skipper brought it. Said he brung it straight from de city." + + "Ben Tate?" asked the master. + + Hagar nodded assent. "Said ye was to hev it dis yer afternoon, sure," +said she; "'twa'n't no letter to be lyin' 'round in dem Culm huts, so +he cum up here wid it hisself. Be it frum Hastings, Mas'r Dick?" + + Hagar had lived in the Trafford family from childhood, and Richard had +grown up to manhood under her eyes, had married, and she went to live +with the young people. She had seen the wife fade and die, and the +husband grow stern and gloomy, and out of solicitude and affection had +clung faithfully to him through all fortunes. It would seem, to hear +her talk, that she never had quite realized that Richard Trafford, the +man of forty, was any other than "Mas'r Dick," the boy whose smartness +at school, and whose popularity among his companions, had always been +her boast and pride. Gray and worn he was getting, gloomy, sad, even +harsh at times to her, yet he was only "Mas'r Dick," and her own +little boy, for whom she must watch and care to the best of her +ability. Now, as she queried where the letter might be from, she +dropped down in a chair a little way from him, and waited till he +should see fit to answer her question; for could there be a paradise +on earth, it would have been represented to Hagar by Hastings,--that +great city where their old home had been, where her own childhood had +been spent, and where all the friends of her kin and color dwelt. It +was a hard matter to tear herself away from them all and follow +Richard Trafford to dreary Culm Rock; but, with some tears and +sighing, she had said to her people, "Yer don't know nuffin about it. +Ye habn't got any 'Mas'r Dick;' so how ken ye? 'Tain't in dis yer old +heart to let de chile go off sufferin' all by hisself, now! Bress de +Lord, I'll stick to de poor boy, an' keep him frum jes' worryin' his +life out." So here she was in her old age, away from all her people, +yet happy because it was to serve "Mas'r Dick." + + Trafford took up the letter,--a large, thick one, bearing the marks +of the skipper's great fingers on its envelope, and smelling of fish, +as if it had performed its journey in company with herring and +cod,--and said, "Yes, Hagar; it's from Hastings, of course." + + The old housekeeper lingered, looked at the master in hopes that he +would bid her stay, and then, as he tore open the letter with a moody +face, went slowly out, closing the door softly behind her. + + The handwriting was unfamiliar, and Trafford wondered where it came +from, feeling vexed that it should have arrived at that moment; and so +began to read an emphatically business letter:-- + + + "HASTINGS, Sept. 7th. + +"_To Mr. Richard Trafford, of Culm Rock_: + + "SIR,--I am sorry to be under the painful necessity of informing you +of your brother's death. The Rev. Oliver Trafford died the 15th of +March last, leaving me as the executor of his estate. He was anxious +to see you till the very last; but as we had no clew to your +whereabouts, and only discovered your place of residence by accident a +short time ago, that pleasure was denied him. He left one child--a boy +of fourteen, or thereabouts--for whose welfare he was much distressed. +He often expressed it as his desire that, should you ever make your +appearance, this boy might be received by you as your own, and, +indeed, left written statements to that effect. There is, also, among +his private papers, a sealed letter for you, which, I doubt not, +contains some such request. The boy, I am happy to say, is not likely +to prove a burden or trouble to you, being obedient and all that +could be desired. He is smart and sprightly, and quite a favorite in +the circle in which his father moved, and from my own acquaintance +with him (very intimate during the past six months) can assure you +that he will prove anything but a poor acquisition. + + "As to the estate, I am sorry to say that Mr. Trafford left but little +of value,--enough, perhaps, to educate the boy; but, as I hear you are +a gentleman of fortune, this, I presume, is a matter of very little +moment. I shall be happy to show you your brother's accounts at any +time, and to have the honor of answering any inquiries which you may +be disposed to make. I enclose a note from your nephew. Awaiting your +decision in the matter, I am, sir, your most obedient servant, + + "Thomas Gray. +"Room 8, at No. 67 Court St." + + + With a gloomy face, Trafford laid down the lawyer's letter, and took +up his nephew's. He did not remember ever having seen the boy. He was, +most likely, a crazy, boisterous lad, that would be forever in +mischief, and bring the house about their heads. As for having him at +Culm Rock, it was too preposterous a thought to be entertained for a +moment. He had decided at once how Mr. Gray's letter should be +answered, and felt too indifferent to care about reading his nephew's. +What did these things matter to him? Yet, after a time, he thought +better of it, and took up the note again, saying to himself, "I'll +read it, if only because it's poor Noll's boy;" and opening the +missive, found therein the following frank boy's letter:-- + + + "HASTINGS, Sept. 7th. + + "DEAR UNCLE RICHARD,--I don't know what to say to you--it all seems so +strange and awkward. Mr. Gray said I was to write, however, and send +the note with his; so I am trying. It is such a long time since I saw +you that I've forgotten your face, and I think you must have forgotten +that there was such a person as myself in the world. Papa died almost +six months ago, and he said all the time, at the last, 'Go for Uncle +Richard!' but I didn't know where you were, and Mr. Gray could not +find out till a short time ago; so papa died without seeing you. I +don't know what he wanted to say, but he told me that I was to live +with you and be your boy; and Mr. Gray says the papers say the same +thing." Here the writer had evidently faltered, and been at a loss +how to proceed further with intelligence which it, apparently, was +very irksome for him to disclose; but he continued with, "There are +only you and me left, and I am sure I would like very much to be your +boy and live with you, as papa said; but--but I don't know--I +mean--Well, I can't say it, Uncle Richard, but I mean that I wish I +might know what you thought about it first. I wouldn't like to come, +you know, unless you liked,--unless you were _glad_ to have me. Mr. +Gray has all papa's business to settle, and I suspect he wants to get +me settled, too, somewhere, pretty quick; and so, if you please, I +hope you won't mind whatever he may say about me, and only do just as +you like about giving him permission to send me. I can find a home +somewhere, if you would rather. + + "My name is Oliver,--Noll, everybody calls me; I'm almost fifteen, and +have always been at school in Hastings, and papa used to give me +lessons beside. Is there a school at Culm Rock? I do wish you could +have seen papa, dear Uncle Richard, he longed so for you when he died; +but there is a letter for you among his papers, which will be sent to +Culm Rock, if I do not come to bring it. Mr. Gray will tell you all +about me, I suppose, and the affairs besides; so I will stop. + + "Your nephew, + + "NOLL TRAFFORD. + + + "--And don't mind what Mr. Gray says, please, and only do as you like." + + + Richard Trafford finished this letter with something like a grim smile +on his lips. + + "The boy has got the true Trafford spirit," he said to himself, "and +some of Brother Noll's gentleness, I fancy. Ah, Noll was always a +happier man than I!" + + He read the boy's letter again, wondering what made it seem so bright +and pleasant, and feeling vexed with himself for doing it. Why should +he care for this boy or this boy's letter? Had he not fled to Culm +Rock to escape all knowledge of what was transpiring in the world +without,--to forget friends and kin, if that was possible? He looked +up and met the sweet, grave eyes of his wife looking down into his, +and read something there which made his eyes fill and his lip quiver. + + "Ah," he sighed, "why did I not try to follow after?" And with this +thought in his heart, he rose and stood by the window, looking down at +the crawling tide. His thoughts came back to the boy, presently, and +with another grim smile upon his face, he remembered what a dull and +dreary place Culm Rock would be for a lad of fourteen. He would soon +tire of it, and be glad enough to go back to Hastings, he fancied. If +he was a wild boy, he should go back on the return of the "White +Gull;" if he could be tolerated, he might stay till he tired of it. It +was poor Brother Noll's boy, after all, he thought, and he could not +make his heart quite hard enough to refuse him a home. So, when +Skipper Ben returned to Hastings with his next cargo of fish, he +carried a letter hidden away under his pea-jacket, and this was what +it contained:-- + + "CULM ROCK, Sept. 12th. + +"_To Noll Trafford_: + + "Come; you are welcome. + +"UNCLE RICHARD." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ON THE "WHITE GULL." + + + The breeze was crisp and fresh that morning, and the skipper anxious +to set sail. Everything was in readiness on board the "White Gull," +but still its master did not give the word to cast off, and stumped up +and down the deck, muttering and grumbling to his mate. + + "Allus jes' so!" he said, wrathfully; "these town folks never up to +time. Think on't, Jack, that 'ere lawyer, Gray, promised to get the +youngster here a good half-hour afore sunrise! Here it's sun-up +already, and this breeze won't last forever, nuther." + + "Why don't ye go 'long 'thout him?" queried Jack Snape from his seat +on a bucket. + + "Would, ef 'twa'n't fur that pesky lawyer!" growled the skipper; "an' +'tain't every day ye can get a passenger fur the Rock, nuther. Mought +as well take what passage-money he can, a fellow mought, Jack." + + The mate of the "White Gull" began to whistle, and fumbling in his +pea-jacket brought out a pipe and tobacco, with which he proceeded to +console himself. Skipper Ben took a few more impatient turns up and +down the deck, and sat down at last in grim despair, while the wind +came in strong, steady puffs, and the craft rocked and swayed gently +on the swell of the tide. The city behind them was hardly awake yet. +Its roofs and steeples loomed through a veil of haze or smoke which +hovered over and clung about the towers, and only a faint murmur told +of the stir and bustle which were presently to reign. On the wharves a +few early drays were rumbling down after their loads of merchandise, +and one or two vessels had left their moorings, and, taking advantage +of the favorable breeze, were standing out to sea, which fact did not +at all add to Skipper Ben's good-nature. + + "Here they come," drawled the mate, putting up his pipe; and then a +carriage came rattling down the wharf, stopping in front of the "White +Gull." + + "Come at last, hev ye?" shouted the skipper, gruffly. "Call this a +half-hour afore sunrise, squire?" + + "Well," said the lawyer, looking at his watch, "I thought we were +prodigiously early. Driver, put these trunks aboard in a hurry, since +the skipper is waiting; and--Noll, are you ready?" + + The skipper left his craft and came to bear a hand with the trunks, +looking askance, meanwhile, at the boy who had got out of the carriage +and stood on the wharf's edge, surveying the "Gull." + + "Hope you'll have a good run, skipper," said the lawyer, as the +baggage went over into a cavernous aperture in the deck; "fine breeze, +I should say. Have a good care of this passenger of yours, man." + + "Ay, squire, we'll manage. Can't stop fur words from ye this morning; +should ha' been a long piece down the coast afore this time o' day. +Bear a hand there, Jack!" + + "Good-by, Noll," said the lawyer; "keep up a stout heart, my boy, and +don't forget your city friends. You'll have a fine run down to Culm, +and you must send me a line back by the skipper. Good-by!" and Mr. +Gray got into his carriage and rolled back toward the city. + + Noll Trafford stood leaning against a great post and looking after the +lawyer's carriage with a slight choking in his throat, till the +skipper's gruff "Get aboard here, lad!" warned him that the "Gull" was +about to cast off. Slowly the wharf glided away, and the little +coasting vessel stood out into the channel. The city spread itself out +behind them, a long maze of brick and slate, with spires and domes +showing dimly through the blue haze which wrapped them about. On the +far, watery horizon lay a belt of vapory clouds which presently began +to rend and tear and float off in ragged masses, and then a great red +sun gleamed through and made a golden roadway across the sea, and +transformed the misty fleeces of vapor to wonderful hangings of +amethyst, streaked with great threads of scarlet. + + "Jes' sunrise!" muttered the skipper; "make the best o' this 'ere +breeze, eh, Jack?" + + "Ay," drawled the mate, "we'll catch it afore long, skipper." + + The city's old cold front suddenly gleamed out in vivid gold, the +spires grew rosy in the first rays of sunlight, and, all its dimness +and dulness gone, Hastings lay gleaming and glowing in the fair +morning light like some vision of fairyland. + + Noll Trafford, sitting on a great bale of merchandise near the stern +of the "Gull," gazed at the city, slowly sinking and fading in the +sea, with a feeling somewhat akin to homesickness. It had never looked +so bright to him before as at this moment of his departure from it, +and he was leaving behind a great many friends--all his school +acquaintances, all the scenes and haunts that were dear to him--to +go--where? He hardly knew, himself, but his bright fancy had pictured +Culm as some pleasant little sea town, where there would, perhaps, be +a great beach to ramble upon and hunt for minerals and shells, and +where he would soon make plenty of new acquaintances. And Uncle +Richard he had pictured to himself as a gentle, kind man,--grave, +perhaps, but who would love him and try to fill the place of his own +dead father. So, with these bright visions filling his mind, it was +little wonder that he turned from the stern, after Hastings had faded +into the merest blue dot on the horizon-line, and looked forward to +the time when the journey's end should be reached, with happy +anticipations. Before them lay the vast and boundless sea, with no +trace of shore or island save a low blue belt in the south, like a +cloud, and the "Gull" began to pitch and toss somewhat with the great +ocean-swell. Skipper Ben, having got well in the way of the breeze +which was carrying his vessel steadily before it, began to regain his +good-humor. Sitting on the top of a cask, he puffed away at his pipe +and soliloquized to himself about his passenger, who sat regarding +Jack Snape's movements at the helm with much interest. The skipper +had three or four boys at home,--great sturdy, brown-faced, +stout-armed fellows,--between whom and this fair-faced, curly-headed +boy there was little resemblance, he felt. "Town breedin', town +breedin'," muttered he; "it's curi's what it'll make of a lad. This +chap'll grow up with his head full o' le'rnin' into a lawyer or parson +or somethin' like, and my lads'll be skippers like their dad, with no +le'rnin' to speak on. I'll warrant this lad could get off more +book-stuff in five minutes 'an mine ever heerd on." His eyes followed +the boy as he went out to stand by Jack's elbow and ply this +slow-witted gentleman with quick, eager questions. He was slender and +rather tall for one of his age, but lithe and agile, as the skipper +noted. "One o' mine could jes' trip him with a turn o' his hand," +thought he; yet he regarded the lad with a mixture of kindness and +respect, after all. There were other things in the world beside bone +and muscle, he remembered, and when the boy came slowly along the +deck, after a fruitless attempt to coax the mate into conversation, he +put out one of his big red hands and stopped him. Noll looked up, +inquiringly. + + "Goin' down to Culm for a bit o' vacation?--to git scarce o' the +books, eh?" queried the skipper. + + "Vacation? Oh, no," said the boy, quickly; "I'm going there to +live,--to have a home." + + The master of the "Gull" came near dropping his pipe with amazement. +"_You_ live at Culm!" said he, incredulous; "what ye goin' to live +in?" + + It was Noll's turn to look amazed. He suddenly faced the skipper, +saying, very earnestly, "What kind of a place is Culm Rock, anyhow? +Isn't it a town?" + + A broad grin stretched across the old sailor's face, then he laughed +aloud. "Did ye hear that, Jack?" he cried; "here's a lad what's goin' +to Culm to live, an' he wants to know ef it's a town!" + + "'Twon't take him long to find out arter he gets there," drawled Mr. +Snape. + + Noll turned away and walked to the stern, thinking the skipper was a +very uncivil fellow to laugh at his ignorance, and sat down again on +the bale, secretly ill at ease on account of these sailors' words. +What kind of a place could Culm Rock be? + + All around the boundless waste of waves flashed and glittered under +the sun, and the "Gull" sailed steadily on her course with not a +fleck of land in sight,--nothing around but the vast blue of the +sea,--above, only the great azure arch of sky. It was a new and +strange sight to Noll Trafford. He lay on his back on the bale, and +looked up into the wonderful depths of the blue dome, where no clouds +sailed, and speculated about his destination. Somehow, the bright +vision of a pleasant sea town with a shining beach of sand and pebbles +had faded, and in its stead there was doubt and perplexity. Was it +only a rock, as the name suggested, and no town? However, Uncle +Richard was there, and that was one comfort; and perhaps the skipper +was only joking, after all. He wished, though, that he might know what +to expect; he wondered why he had not thought to ask Mr. Gray before +starting. He lay a long time listening to the rush of water about the +vessel, a strange and unusual sound to his ears. By and by a brawny +hand touched his shoulder, and a gruff voice said,-- + + "Lookee here, lad!" Noll turned about and saw the skipper. "'Twa'n't +manners in me to laugh at ye, I 'low," said he, good-humoredly; "but +'twas droll, ennyhow. Hain't ye never been to Culm afore?" + + "Never," said Noll. + + "An' ye don't know nuthin' what it's like?" + + "No; how should I?" said his passenger; "I didn't know there was such +a place in the world a month ago." + + The skipper looked incredulous once more. "An' now ye goin' there to +live!" he exclaimed; "why, there ben't but one house there fit fur +such as you, an' 'tain't there ye're bound, not by a long shot!" + + "But _one_ house! Whose is it?" cried Noll, eagerly. + + "Why, it be one Trafford's, one o' the strangest--" A sudden +expression in the boy's face checked the words on the skipper's +tongue, and the truth began to dawn upon his slow brain. "Great +fishes!" cried he, falling back a step or two, "ye ben't goin' +_there_?" + + "Yes," said Noll, as quietly as he could. "Why not?" + + The skipper gave him a long, steady survey, and then stumped away +across the deck without another word, leaned over the rail, and began +to whistle. Noll looked after him, half determined to follow and +demand what he meant, yet half dreading to learn that all his visions +were a great way from the truth. Perhaps it would be better to wait, +he thought; night would bring the journey to an end, and then he +should know all. So he did not follow the skipper, but kept his seat, +while a great many shadowy forebodings crept into his heart, and he +began to look back over the trackless waste which they had come, and +wish, almost, that he was back in dear old Hastings--in the old home +where papa and he had spent so many happy hours--and that Culm Rock +was a myth. The sun rose royally up to noon, and odors of dinner began +to ascend from the hatchway. Noll had a dinner of his own somewhere in +a basket, which he brought forth and ate on the bale which served him +for a seat, enjoying the novelty in spite of the anxious speculations +concerning his new home in which he could not help indulging. + + After dinner the skipper was in better humor than ever, and took his +turn at the helm. Noll, wandering about the deck, stopped to watch +him, whereupon the master of the "Gull" good-naturedly answered all +his questions, and even allowed him to take the tiller a few minutes, +laughing the while at his white hands that could hardly grasp it. + + "Wish ye could see my lads' hands!" he said; "could take both 'o' +yourn in one uv 'em, an' not know they was holding anything. But +you'll have browner paws afore ye leave Culm!" + + "Of course!" said Noll, "for I'm going to get Uncle Richard to teach +me to row,--I can swim now,--and I'm going to be around the shore half +the time." + + "Likely enough, likely enough!" said the skipper, meditatively; and +when Noll had passed on, he muttered, "It's a pesky shame fur the lad +to be sent off and cooped up on the Rock! Don't know what he's comin' +to, nuther. I'll be blamed ef I ain't sorry for the boy!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +DISAPPOINTMENTS. + + + It was late afternoon when land loomed up blue on the horizon. Mr. +Snape had taken the tiller, and Noll stood leaning over the rail by +him, eager and watchful for the first look at Culm. "Mought as well +wait a bit," Jack Snape had drawled out; "we sha'n't get there fur a +long while yet, lad." + + But the boy chose to keep his place, and kept his eyes unweariedly on +the distant point for which the "Gull" was making. Yet it was but +tiresome watching, after all, and the brisk breeze seemed to have +failed them somewhat, for the vessel's speed had sensibly diminished. + + "He'll be glad 'nough to look t'other way arter he gits there," +muttered Skipper Ben, between the whiffs at his pipe; "my lads 'ud +think they's killed for sartin to be shut up there a week." He got up +at last, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and disappeared down the +hatchway, returning presently with a spy-glass, which he carried to +his passenger with, "Lookee here, boy, take this an' make out what ye +ken. 'Tain't much ye'll see yet, but mebby ye'll get a look arter a +time." He sat down again, looking at the boy's face from time to time, +and wondering if this sending him to Culm Rock was not some of that +Lawyer Gray's work. The skipper had not a very high opinion of +lawyers. + + Slowly, slowly the blue point began to take shape, and Noll's glass +brought it to his eyes all too faithfully. The skipper saw the eager +look and the warm color which had been on his face fade slowly out as +the "Gull" drew nearer and nearer the journey's end, and the +warm-hearted sailor waxed indignant. "Mought ha' told him what ter +expect, anyhow!" he muttered, shaking a great bale with his brawny +hands as if it had been Lawyer Gray's shoulders. + + The "Gull" stood in toward shore. First, the pine woods, vast and +sombre, showed themselves; then, a little way on, Culm Rock came +slowly into view, bald, ragged, and desolate. Noll's face was very +grave, but he kept his place and said nothing. Slowly the curve of +the shore unfolded itself, a long line of yellow sand, length after +length of scarred and jagged rock. The sound of the surf came faintly +out, sounding over the ripple of water about the "Gull's" prow. Not a +sign of life, as yet, had showed itself. The vessel kept steadily on +till, at last, the whole great breadth of the Rock lay before them, +rising huge and massive out of the sea, and, in a sheltered hollow on +the shore, a great stone house stood up, gray and weather-beaten as +the cliffs about it. + + "Is that the house?" Noll asked, turning to the skipper, and laying +down his glass. + + The old sailor nodded assent, thinking to himself that he had never +seen it look darker and gloomier, and wondering what the boy thought. + + "Aren't you going to stop?" Noll asked, as the "Gull" kept on, and the +stone house dropped astern. + + "Goin' round to the landin'," explained Mr. Snape; "'tain't good +moorin's till ye git half a mile fu'ther round. Ye'll git ashore +pretty quick." + + Under the cool and heavy shadow of the Rock they crept, coming out of +it at last into the full glory of the sun's setting. All the west was +aflame, and the sea glowed and sparkled like molten gold. Even the +wretched little Culm fish-huts looked almost fair and comely in this +flood of light. + + Noll Trafford scanned the little wharf, where a motley collection of +men were gathered, with a quick-beating heart. Which of them could be +Uncle Richard? Would he give him a kind welcome? The boy's spirits +began to rise somewhat under the influence of the broad, cheerful glow +of sunshine and the speedy prospect of meeting this uncle who was to +be as a father to him. The remembrance of the gray old house under the +shadow of the rocks around the curve of the shore still lay somewhat +heavily on his heart; but if Uncle Richard were only glad to see him, +all that would not matter, he thought. He stood by the prow as the +"Gull" moved slowly up to the wharf, eagerly scanning every face that +was watching the craft's motions. A sudden pang of disappointment +chilled him from head to foot, for among that idle, shiftless-looking +group, there was not one whom he could possibly mistake for his uncle. +They were all fishermen, dull-faced, dirty, and out at their elbows. +Some frowsy, ill-clad women had come out of their houses, and, with +children clinging to their skirts, looked on with idle curiosity. + + So this was Culm Rock! Noll's bright fancies had all fled, and his +heart was suddenly very heavy. He looked back across the sea toward +Hastings, longingly, and thus verified the skipper's prediction. If +Uncle Richard had only been there to greet him, he thought, chokingly, +it would not have mattered so much, but now, it was all forlorn and +dreary enough. + + "'Tain't much uv a town arter all; is it?" drawled Mr. Snape, with a +broad grin on his thick features. + + "Shut up, Jack!" growled the skipper. "Can't ye see the lad's got all +he ken weather?" Then he turned to Noll, proffering his rough +sympathy. "Sorry fur ye!" he said. "Culm ain't the place for the like +o' you, an' what ye cum here fur, I can't see. But keep a stout heart, +lad, an' rough it out best way ye can; ain't no other way now." + + "I'm going to," said Noll, with an effort; "I won't mind after a +little, I guess. Good-by, skipper;" and he stepped out on to the +little wharf among the fish-folk, who made way, regarding him +curiously. + + "Keep 'long up the shore," called the master of the "Gull" after him, +"and you'll cum to the house afore long. I'll send yer trunks up by +some o' these 'ere good-fur-nothin' Culm folks. Good-by, lad!" + + The skipper watched the boyish figure walking away up the sands, and +remarked to his mate, "Ef I knew that was some o' Gray's work, I'd +jes' like the fun o' bringin' the ole chap down here on the 'Gull,' +an' lettin' him loose to browse on the rocks,--jes' to see how _he'd_ +like it!" + + Noll walked briskly, trying to keep up good heart by whistling and +humming snatches of tunes, looking back over his shoulder at the +wonderful gleaming of the west, and the queer picture which the +fish-huts and the group of idlers made, with the "Gull" lying by the +little wharf, her cloud of canvas yet unfurled and its shadow gleaming +white as ivory in the depth of water on which she floated. At his feet +the tide was murmuring. How far and vast stretched the sea! What a +minute atom of earth was Culm Rock, compared with the boundless waste +of waves which compassed it about! Bending over all, the evening sky +lay cool and serene, flushed, where it met the water, with lovely +stains of color. Noll was but dimly conscious of these things as he +hurried on, because his heart was filled with conjectures about the +stone house and the friend he was to find there. The disappointment of +not finding his uncle awaiting him with a warm greeting still lay +heavily on his heart; and as he passed the curve of the shore, and the +stone house came in sight, his quick pace slackened, and he walked but +slowly. + + There was no one visible on the piazza. All the doors and windows were +closed, though the evening was warm and mild. + + The boy wondered if his uncle was absent. Perhaps, he thought, with a +little thrill of pleasure, that, after all, was the reason why Uncle +Richard had failed to meet him. + + A thin blue film of smoke crept up from one of the tall chimneys, +telling him that some one was within the gloomy old structure, which, +it seemed to him, looked much more like a grim fortress than a +_peaceful_ dwelling. Not a blade of grass or anything green flourished +about it; all was rock and sand and stranded kelp. + + His heart beat fast as he went up the piazza-steps, and noted how his +footsteps echoed in the silence. He rapped on the great oaken +front-door. No one answered the summons. He rapped again, wondering if +Uncle Richard was really gone, and his heart began to grow heavy +again, as it had done upon his first disappointment at the wharf. The +lonely voice of the sea stole up to his ears, and he turned about to +look. Twilight was fast settling down upon it, and already the far +horizon was hidden; but along the shore the waves shone and gleamed +whitely. Noll's first pang of genuine homesickness came upon him here. +It seemed as if he had not a friend this side of the wide, dark sea. + + This second summons met with no better success than the first. Noll +turned away, went back down the steps, and there stopped to look about +him. He discovered some straggling footprints in the sand leading +around the corner of the house, and these he followed for lack of a +better guide. They led him to a long, low projection from the main +body of the house, a kitchen it appeared to be, and here he found a +wide-open door, from whence came the strains of a hymn half chanted, +half sung. Noll rapped. The singing ceased. A slow step came across +the kitchen floor, and a voice said, "Bress us! who's dis?" + + Noll looked up at the wrinkled black face framed by a great yellow +turban, and said,-- + + "I'm Noll Trafford. Didn't--didn't Uncle Richard expect me?" + + Old Hagar threw up both hands crying, shrilly, "Bress de Lord! is dis +Noll Trafford's boy?" and then stared blankly at him. + + "Yes, if you mean Uncle Richard's brother," said Noll, still very +sad-hearted; "and wasn't he looking for me at all?" + + "Bress ye, honey!" said Hagar, recovering her senses, "he didn't say +one single word to me 'bout ye! Dun forgot it, I 'spose. But don't ye +stan' on dem yer steps another minnit; come right in, honey. I'll see +Mas'r Dick dis instant." + + Noll followed her into the little kitchen, where on the hearth a fire +was crackling and flashing its red flicker over the walls. He sat down +on a rough wooden bench by the door, wondering if his uncle could +really have forgotten that he was coming, and feeling not all +light-hearted, while Hagar clattered away to "see Mas'r Dick." She +came back pretty quick, saying,-- + + "You's to go right in to de lib'ry, chile, right in jes' as soon as I +git dis yer candle lit;" and getting down on her knees she puffed away +at the coals and burned splinters till she succeeded in coaxing her +tallow candle to burn. She got up, came back to where Noll was +sitting, and holding the light close to his face, looked down at him +long and steadily. + + "Bress de Lord!" she said, stroking his curly hair, "you's de bery +picter ob yer father. 'Pears like 'twas him I see'd dis minnit 'fore +me! Did ye drop down frum de sky, or what, chile?" + + "I came down on the 'White Gull,'" Noll answered. + + "Well, now!" said Hagar; "an' why didn't yer father come too?" + + "Papa? Oh, why--papa is dead," said Noll, with a little quiver in his +voice which he could not possibly prevent, he was so lonely and +homesick. + + Old Hagar gave a shrill wail and set her candle down. + + "Now don't tell me dat!" she cried. "Mas'r Oliver dead? Well, well, +honey, we dunno nuffin on dis yer Rock? De whole ob creation might cum +to an' end, an' we nebber hear on't. An' you's all alone now, chile?" + + "Yes," said Noll, feeling at that moment as if there wore never truer +words spoken. + + "An' you's come down to lib wid yer Uncle Dick?" + + "Yes." + + "Well, bress de Lord fur dat!" said Hagar, joyfully; "couldn't a +better ting happened to dat yer man, nohow. Jes' what he wants,--a boy +like yerself, wid yer own father's face. An' did Mas'r Dick know ye's +comin'?" + + "Yes, he knew," said Noll; "he--he told me I'd be welcome. Do you +think I am?" + + "Why, yes, honey! What made ye ask dat? Yer Uncle Dick is a strange +man, an' ye mustn't mind if he don't say much to ye, an'--but come +right in de libr'y, chile, fur he's waitin' fur ye. Come right along; +I's lit de lamp in dar;" and taking up her candle, she led the way. + + "Don't yer mind dis ole hall," said Hagar, by way of apology as they +entered a long, bare, chilly corridor; "nobody comes here but me, an' +I don't mind. It's only my road frum de libr'y to de kitchen. _He_ +nebber comes out here." + + From this hall they passed into the dining-room, where stood a +supper-table very plainly spread. + + "Mas'r Dick didn't eat nuffin to-night," said Hagar, glancing around +as she clattered on. At one end of the dining-room they came to a door +which the old housekeeper softly opened. + + "Go right in, honey," she said to Noll, in a whisper; "he's dar," and +then turned away. + + Richard Trafford sat by one of the great bookcases, reading. The +lamplight fell full upon his worn and sorrowful face. He did not hear +the door open, did not hear Noll's light step, and was first conscious +of the boy's presence when two arms were suddenly clasped about his +neck, and a voice, trembling with a mixture of joy and sadness, cried, +"Oh, Uncle Richard!" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE FIRST EVENING. + + + Richard Trafford, a little startled, unclasped the boy's hands without +a word, and held him off by one arm. Full in the light he held him, +gazing in his face long and keenly. Then he said, "So this is Noll!" + + Oh, how coldly the words fell upon the boy's heart! How the stern +voice and the keen gray eyes chilled him! Not a word of welcome, +after all,--only those four chilling words. The boy's disappointment +was so great, his heart so lonely and homesick, that he stood with +downcast eyes, before his uncle, to hide the tears that glittered in +them, and could not answer a word. Trafford released his nephew's arm +with a sigh. The boy was the very counterpart of his father, of +Brother Noll, he thought,--the same fair, high forehead and curling +locks, the same deep blue eyes, the same eager, impetuous manner. This +resemblance touched him somewhat; he noted, also, that the boy's lips +quivered a little, and so said, in a kindlier tone,-- + + "You're very welcome to Culm, Noll. Are you tired with the journey?" + + "No--yes--some, I mean," stammered poor Noll, winking hard to keep +the tears back. + + "And you'd like some supper, I dare say," continued his uncle. + + "Yes, by and by," the nephew managed to answer. + + A silence fell upon them here,--long and deep,--in which the eternal +murmur of the sea stole in. Trafford's eyes did not move from the +boy's face; and at last he said, taking his hand,-- + + "You're wonderfully like your father, Noll,--in more ways than one, I +hope. Can a lad like you ever be contented in this old house?" + + "I--I hope so, Uncle Richard," Noll replied, mocking these words, +however, by a very despairing tone. + + Trafford smiled grimly. "He's weary of it already," he thought; "and +who can wonder? Noll and I couldn't have endured it at his age, I +suppose." Then he added aloud, "If you tire of it, Noll, you shall +have liberty to return to Hastings whenever you choose. You're not to +stay against your will, remember. You may find it lonely and dull, +perhaps; if so, I leave you to go or stay, as you choose." + + The tone in which this was spoken was so sad that Noll ventured to +look up into his uncle's face. The gray eyes had lost their stern +light, and looked very sorrowful. + + "I--I will never want to go back, Uncle Richard, if you would like me +to stay," he said, quickly. + + "Ah, you don't know what you say, Noll," Trafford answered, stroking +the boy's hair; "it's a lonely place. For a boy it is horrible. Even +I sometimes find it but a weary resting-place. Ah! wait and see, wait +and see. I've little hope you'll stay longer than a month." + + At this Noll's heart gave a leap of joy. "Do you really _hope_ I'll +stay, Uncle Richard?" he cried. + + Trafford looked at the boy's eager, searching face for a second, then +answered, "Yes, if you can be contented." This was hardly such an +answer as Noll craved, yet it made his heart lighter. Perhaps it was +only Uncle Richard's way, he thought, which made it seem as though he +was not welcome. The old black housekeeper, he remembered, had warned +him not to mind it. With this thought, his heart grew somewhat more +cheerful, and he began to take a brighter view of things. He noted the +tall cases of books and the open organ, and unconsciously these +evidences of taste and refinement made the thought of dwelling in the +stone house more acceptable. If Uncle Richard would only care for him, +he thought, all the rest would not matter. + + Trafford let go his hand, saying, "Go and get your supper, Noll; Hagar +will show you. Then, if you like, you can come back." + + The boy took two or three steps toward obeying, then, as if +remembering some duty unperformed, turned and came back. + + "I had forgotten the letter,--papa's letter,--Uncle Richard," he said, +drawing the missive from his pocket. "Would you like it now?" + + Trafford extended his hand without a word. Noll placed the precious +letter therein, and walked away, looking back at the door to see that +his uncle had broken the seal. Not till the boy's footsteps had died +away did the uncle look upon the hurriedly-traced lines which the note +contained. The letters were feebly made, hinting of the weakness of +the hand which traced them. This was what he found:-- + + + "MY DEAR DICK,--I write this to you from my dying-bed, not knowing +that it will ever reach you, or that you are even upon the face of the +earth. If ever you _do_ return,--if ever you receive this, be kind to +my poor Noll for my sake. Make him your own,--he'll love you,--and +make him such a man, before God, as you know I would have him. + + "If he has disappeared, look him up, search for him, and cherish the +boy as my precious legacy. And, dear Dick, look well to yourself. A +man needs much when he lies where I am lying. We ought to have been +more to each other these past years, not living with a great gulf, as +it were, atween us. This and the thought of my boy is all that weighs +upon me now. + + "And, dear Dick, till we meet again, farewell, farewell. O. TRAFFORD." + + A sudden mist came across the reader's eyes, a sudden throb to his +heart. Brother Noll! the blithe, warm-hearted, once precious brother! +he who had astonished all his friends by studying for a minister, and +who, with all the fervor of youth, had devoted every talent and energy +to the sacred cause. How he had loved him once! How proud and happy +he had been at his success! And here were words, his last thoughts on +earth, breathed from the very depths of his heart, and thrilling with +love for himself and this boy. They stirred the man's heart as it had +not been stirred before since that dreary afternoon when all the joy +and sunshine fled out of his heart and left it so cold and bitter. He +had not realized before that Brother Noll had really ended his +pilgrimage, and passed out of the earth, which, to himself, was such a +weary abiding-place. Now, with the last whispers of that dear heart +before him, the whole bitter sense of his loss came upon him, and he +covered his face, sighing heavily. Back came the remembrance of the +long and happy days of boyhood, with visions of the shining meadows +where they strayed together; with visions of careless, joyful hours, +when they sailed and fished and hunted the woods for purple grapes and +glossy nuts; with visions of those calmer days when they grew up to +manhood together,--Noll always bright and brave and loving, and a +check upon his own wilder spirits. Now he was gone; and all the years +to come could never again bring joy so deep and love so everlasting. +Yet, true and dear to the last, he had breathed his life out in one +sweet message to himself, confiding his love and this boy to him as a +precious legacy. Trafford almost groaned when he thought of his loss. +Oh, what a cruel thing was Death! A fierce, pitiless robber, seeking +for the loveliest and brightest, it had lain in wait, all his life +long, despoiling him of whatever he set his heart upon, he thought, +and leaving him wrecked and desolate. He had thought that no death or +sorrow could ever move him again; yet here was his heart aching as +wretchedly as ever. Was there no place in the wide, wide earth where +such wretchedness could not pursue? He had hoped to find it in this +wild and barren Rock; yet here sorrow had crept in, bitter and +poignant as in the busy city. + + Trafford rose from his chair, put away the message from out of his +sight, and sat down at his organ to still the pain in his heart with +the charm of its music. + + Noll had had his supper, and was sitting, sad and solitary, by Hagar's +fire in the kitchen. He would wait a little, he thought, before going +back to the library, that Uncle Richard might have time to read his +letter. He wondered what its contents could be, and wished and hoped +that papa had written some message there for himself. Would Uncle +Richard tell him if there were? he wondered. Then his thoughts went +back over the sea to Hastings, and there came up such pictures of the +dear old home there, and the faces of his school friends flocked +before him so vividly,--Ned Thorn's in particular,--that he could look +about him only through tears that he strove in vain to banish. + + Hagar had gone out with the candle, so the kitchen was quite dusk, +save where the fire flared scarlet light on the wall and ceiling. +Suddenly, in this silence, there stole in a heavy throbbing, like the +beating of a great, muffled heart, and with a slow and solemn +movement, rolled and swept in long chains of sound through the house, +till, at last, a clear, sweet, flutelike warble broke in and ran up +and down, seeming to wind in and out with the heavy undertone. Hagar +came in just then with her flaming candle, and began to rattle about +among her pots and kettles. + + "What is that?" Noll asked, quickly, as the strains kept stealing in +above the clatter which the old negress made. It had startled him at +first, coming so suddenly, and corresponding so well with the gloom +and mystery which seemed to fill the house. + + "Bress ye, honey!" said the black old figure, stooping over the +cooking utensils on the stone hearth, "don't ye know? Dat's Mas'r Dick +at his organ. He sits dar mos' times at ebenin', an' 'pears like I ken +jes' tell his feelin's by de music he makes. Sometimes I ken hear it +jes' as sad as nuffin ye ken think ob, an' sometimes it's singin' as +ef 'twas 'live and 'joicin.' It dun make ye homesick?" queried Hagar, +dropping her dishcloth and looking up into the boy's face. + + "No," Noll answered, with a sigh, "'tisn't the music. It will all be +gone in the morning, I guess," and tried to look his cheeriest. + + "You's tired out, chile," said Hagar, with ready sympathy; "better go +to bed. I's been makin' ye one in de room jes' side o' Mas'r Dick's. +Bes' room in de whole house!" + + The music had ceased, and Noll left his seat and went groping his way +along the dark, echoing hall, through the dimly-lighted dining-room to +the library-door. Entering, he found his uncle still seated before the +organ, but with his head bent forward upon the music-rack, and +apparently lost in deep thought, for he did not look up till Noll +stood beside him. Trafford made a faint attempt to smile, and asked,-- + + "Could Hagar find you anything fit to eat? We can't live here as at +Hastings. The sea brings us our food." + + Noll said something about not being hungry, and presently Trafford +asked, with the stem and gloomy look upon his face,-- + + "Did you know that Brother Noll, your father, did a very unwise thing +when he put you into my hands?" + + Noll started at the strangeness of the question, and the bright color +came into his face. + + "Do you mean that papa did wrong?" he asked, quickly. + + "Yes, so far as your good is concerned. I can be no companion for you. +You would have got more good anywhere else than here." + + "Don't say that, Uncle Richard!" Noll pleaded. + + "Why not?" Trafford queried, not unkindly; "it is the truth." + + "Papa said that you--you--" There was such a choking in Noll's throat +that he could get no further, and stopped, looking very much +distressed. Trafford took the boy's hand in his own. + + "My boy," he said, huskily, calling him by that title for the first +time, "I'm but a poor wreck at best. I can teach you no good, and God +knows I wouldn't be the means of putting a shadow of evil in your +heart. Your father says, 'Make him such a man, before God, as you know +I would have him.' He asked too much, Noll. Why, boy, I can't rule +myself." Noll said not a word. Uncle Richard was getting to be more of +a mystery to him than Culm Rock had been. "And," continued Trafford, +"we will leave the matter thus: you shall be at liberty, after the +first month, to go or stay, as you like. If you go, it shall be to +stay away forever; if you stay, it shall be at your own risk. Do you +understand?" + + "Yes, Uncle Richard." + + Trafford saw the boy's lips quiver again, and turned quickly away; the +face was so much like his dead brother's. Noll came to him pretty +soon, said "Good-night," and went away. Hagar guided the boy up to his +room, bidding him good-night with many assurances that "'tw'u'd be +pleasanter to-morrow, 'nough sight!" and left him to himself. The +stars shone brightly over the sea. Noll could not read his Bible +verses that night, for the familiar, precious gift of mamma was +locked in the trunk away round the shore at Culm; but he prayed with +all the stronger longing for the Saviour's pity and help; and then +from his bed by one of the great windows, lay listening to the moaning +of the tide below, which seemed the saddest, lonesomest sound he had +ever heard. And his heart ached too. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +CULM SIGHTS. + + + When Noll awoke the next morning, the sun was shining brightly in. It +was not until after some long minutes of yawning and rubbing his eyes, +that he comprehended where he was; then, with some chills of +disappointment, he remembered, and bounded up to look out the window. +The sea lay rippling, cool and fresh below. Here and there faint +trails of mist floated and hovered over the waves, but the breeze was +fast tearing and blowing them away. With a feeling of delight, he saw +on the far horizon-line the white film of shadowy sails. It showed +that there was life and stir somewhere, he thought, and it was +pleasant to think of them as bound for far-off Hastings. Then he +remembered Skipper Ben and the "White Gull," and wondered when he +would return; and then Mr. Gray's note had not been written, he +recollected. + + "Well," thought Noll, "I'll find time for it to-day, I guess. I wonder +if my trunks will come this morning? and--When am I to begin my +studies, and who am I to recite to?" This last thought had not entered +his head before. There was evidently not a school of any kind upon +Culm Rock, and of course Uncle Richard was the only person capable of +teaching him anything. "I wonder if he will offer to teach me?" Noll +thought in perplexity, "or shall I have to ask him? I can't do that! +he's so cold and stern; and besides, I don't believe he would like the +trouble. I wonder if I am to grow up like those dull Culm people?" He +dressed himself, thinking busily enough of a dozen troublesome matters +which had already sprung up to puzzle him, and with these in his head, +went down-stairs. He found the dining-room at last, after getting into +three or four empty, unoccupied rooms, and there found Hagar putting +the last dishes upon the breakfast-table. + + "You's lookin' brighter, honey," said she, gleefully. "Didn't dis yer +ole woman tell ye so? Ki! I knowed how 'tw'u'd be las' night." + + "It _does_ seem pleasanter," Noll admitted; "and where's Uncle +Richard?" + + "Mas'r Dick? He's in de libr'y; goin' to call him dis minnit. +Breakfas' dun waitin' for ye both, honey; an', bress de Lord! how much +ye looks like yer father dis mornin'!" and Hagar caressed the boy's +hair with her skinny old hands, muttering, as she gazed affectionately +in his face, "You's de bery picter ob him,--de bery picter!" + + So Richard Trafford thought as he answered the old housekeeper's call +and entered the dining-room where his nephew was waiting with a cheery +"Good-morning, Uncle Richard." The boy's sunshiny face, somehow, made +the great room brighter, Trafford thought, and Hagar bustled about and +poured the coffee with a lighter heart than she had had since leaving +her people at Hastings. + +[Illustration: "Good morning, Uncle Richard," Page 92.] + + "Jes' what's been lackin' de whole time!" she thought to herself; +"Mas'r Dick wants somethin' he ken love and talk to. 'Pears like +dar'll be a change in dis yer ole house afore long, de Lord willin'." +It was such a long time since the old negress had seen a young face, +or heard the pleasant accents of a young voice, that she made various +pretexts for lingering in the room while the two sat at the table, and +though it was for the most part a silent meal, yet it was a wonderful +pleasure to see Noll eat, Hagar thought. And when the two had left the +table and gone to the library, she soliloquized, "Nebber thought I'd +see a day like dis yer, agen! Wonder what Mas'r Dick t'inks o' de boy? +Bress de chile! if mas'r don't take to him, 'pears like he'll nebber +take to nuffin. Be like habbin' poor Mas'r Noll's face afore him de +whole time, an' ef he ken stan' _dat_, athought lubbin' him, I's +'feard he's dun got colder'n a stone, de whole ob him. You jes' wait +an' see, Hagar!" + + Noll followed his uncle from the breakfast-table into the library, +hoping that he would at once say something about his books or studies, +or at least hint what plans he had made concerning himself. It would +be a great deal pleasanter, Noll thought, to have Uncle Richard +dispose of him, even in a stern, cold way, than to do nothing at all +with him and remain indifferent as to whether he studied or grew up in +ignorance. + + But Trafford had relapsed into one of his gloomy, absent moods, and +took up a book as soon as he reached the library, without a look or +word for Noll. The boy stood by one of the great windows and looked +out on the sea, striving to drown his disappointment by thinking of +other matters. When he had tired of this, and found that +disappointment was long-lived, and would not be drowned, he loitered +by the bookcases, reading the titles, now and then peering into a +volume and looking over its top at his uncle, and thinking him a very +cold or else a very forgetful man. When he had made the tour of the +room several times, and was about to go out in despair, Trafford +looked up. + + "Noll, did you wish to speak to me?" he asked, abruptly. + + The question came upon Noll unawares. + + "Yes, if--if you were not too--too busy," he stammered. "I thought--I +hoped you would say something about my books--my studies, I mean, +Uncle Richard." + + "What about them?" + + "Why, whether I were to study with you, or by myself, or how; and +whether I am to begin now, or wait a while," said Noll, wishing that +his uncle would look less keenly at him. + + Trafford leaned his head upon his hand and reflected a little. At last +he said,-- + + "You will wait, Noll, till your month is up. There would be no use in +beginning studies which, perchance, may end in so short a time. If, at +the end of four weeks, you conclude to stay, then we will talk about +study. Till then, you will wait." + + Noll's blue eyes said, as plainly as eyes could, "Don't mention that +month again, Uncle Richard!" but his tongue was silent, and he +acquiesced in this decision by a nod of his head. + + "You can fill up the time," continued his uncle, "as you like. You had +best make yourself acquainted with the Rock before you decide to stay +here. You will hardly explore it all in one day, I think;" and with +this Trafford turned again to his book. + + Noll found his hat and went out, determined to keep a brave heart if +Uncle Richard _was_ cold and gloomy. If there was no other way, he +would _make_ him love him, he thought, though how that was to be done +he had, as yet, but a very slight idea. He went through the +dining-room, and from thence found his way to the broad front piazza +which faced the sea, and where, the previous evening, he had stood so +lonely and homesick. Everything looked much cheerier to him now, and +he ran down the sand, in front of the house, to the water's edge, +resolved to see the bright side of everything which pertained to gray, +barren Culm. There were stranded shells and bright-hued weeds on the +wet, glittering sand, which made Noll's eyes sparkle with delight. + + "Wouldn't Ned's eyes open to see these!" he thought, "and wouldn't the +dear old fellow like some for his museum! I'll gather a whole box full +and send them up by the skipper some day." + + Thinking of the skipper made Noll remember his trunks, and he wondered +if the "White Gull" had continued her voyage farther down the shore. + + "There's a whole month to explore and pick up shells in," he said to +himself, "and I'll take this forenoon to go around to the landing and +see the skipper, if he's there." + + With this thought, he started off, hoping to find the "Gull" still +lying off the little wharf. The skipper seemed almost like an old +friend, already; and, however rough he might be, he came from +Hastings, and this fact alone made the boy long for a sight of his +face. So he hastened along the sand, toward Culm, with an eye and ear +for everything which he passed. Great boulders, all green and fringed +with sea-weed, were strewn everywhere,--in the yellow sand of the +beach, in the line of the tide and waves which whitened themselves to +foam, and murmured hoarsely against them. In some places the great +mass of the rock came down so near the water's edge that only a +slender path of pebbles was left between it and the waves. In high +tide, Noll thought, this narrow way must be quite covered, and he +wondered why the sea did not carry it quite away. But in other places +the beach was broad and smooth, quite wide enough for many horsemen to +ride abreast. This morning the sea was peaceful and calm. Neither did +it look so vast and illimitable as on the previous night. The tide was +going out, stranding great quantities of glittering weeds and all +sorts of curious objects, the sight of which made Noll's heart glad; +but, without stopping to examine or preserve them, he hastened on, +hoping to soon catch sight of the "Gull." But in this he was +disappointed. No sooner had he passed the curve of the shore than he +saw that the skipper and his craft were gone. There were his trunks to +see to, however; so he kept on, though at a slower pace, wondering if +those dull-looking fishermen could tell him when the "Gull" would +return. + + Not half so fair or comely did the dozen houses look as in the gold of +sunset. Such racked, weather-beaten dwellings Noll had never seen +before. It was a mystery how they could ever stand in a high gale. Not +a solitary vestige of anything green was there to enliven the +barrenness. Long lines of seine were stretched upon stakes, and +dangled from the sides of boulders upon the shore. In the sand some +dirty-faced children were playing, who got up and ran away at his +approach. A little farther on he came upon two fishermen dividing a +basket of fish. They looked up, stared, and nodded respectfully. + + "When did the skipper go?" Noll asked, pausing. + + "Ben, ye mean?" asked one of the men, suspending his labor to take a +more leisurely survey of the questioner. + + "Yes, Ben Tate," said Noll. + + "Afore sunrise," said the other. "Did ye want the skipper, lad?" + + "No, not particularly. When is he going to stop here again?" + + "Ben? Why, he comes Mondays and Thursdays, he does," said the +fisherman; "ye'll find him here day after to-morrow, lad,--early, too, +mos' like." + + "Can you tell me where he left my trunks?" queried Noll. + + At this question, the men looked perplexed. "Do ye mean boxes like?" +they asked, after a time. + + Noll was astonished at this lack of knowledge, but managed to explain +to the two what he meant. + + "Ye'd best go up to Dirk Sharp's," said one; "the skipper leaves much +with Dirk, he does, an' ye'll be like to find 'em there." + + "Back o' the wharf, lad,--back o' the wharf Dirk lives," the other +called to Noll, as he walked away. + + Dirk Sharp's house was rather smarter than the others,--at least, it +was in better repair; but the look which Noll caught of its interior, +as he stood rapping by the open door, sufficed to destroy any +anticipations of industry or thriftiness which he might have formed +from the dwelling's exterior. Dirk was a great broad-shouldered, +slouching fellow, with a general air of shiftlessness about him. At +Noll's summons, he came lounging out of an inner room, and, catching +sight of the boy, said,-- + + "Lookin' for yer trunks, lad? The skipper said ye was to hev 'em las' +night, shore; but ye see," pulling up his sleeve, "as how I got a cut +what's hindered," displaying a long, bloody wound upon his arm. "Ye +sh'u'd ha' had 'em, lad, but for that, as the skipper said. But ef ye +ken wait till the men get back from their seinin'--Ho! there be Bob +an' Darby now," he exclaimed, as he spied the two whom Noll had just +passed. + + "Ahoy there, lads! here be a job fur ye!" he cried to the fishermen. + + The two left their work and came up to Dirk. + + "Here be two trunks to go 'roun' to the stone house fur this lad," +said he. "Ef ye'll shoulder 'em roun' the shore, yer welcome to what +the skipper left fur't. What ye say, lads?" + + "We'll do't fur ye, Dirk, seein' yer cut," said the one who was called +Darby. "Where be the boxes, man?" + + Dirk led them into the inner room, from whence they presently +emerged, each with a trunk on his shoulder, and, bending with their +burdens, started up the shore. + + Noll followed slowly after, wondering why they did not use their boat, +instead of enduring such back-breaking toil. It struck him that he had +never seen such dull, apathetic faces as these Culm people had. Such +utter shiftlessness as everything about the cluster of tumble-downs +betokened he had never imagined. Perhaps all this dreariness and +desolation made itself more keenly felt because the boy was just from +the city, which teemed with life and bustle and energy. In its poorest +quarter he had never seen such a lack of tidiness as the interior of +Dirk Sharp's house presented. He followed the slowly-plodding +trunk-bearers up the yellow sand, wondering if there was such another +wretched, desolate, and forlorn place as Culm Rock in the whole wide +earth. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +HOW THE MONTH WAS SPENT. + + + They were a long time in getting to the stone house. Before they +passed the curve of the shore, the sun was well up in the sky and beat +down with fervid rays upon the sweating, toiling fishermen. Noll +rejoiced when the trunks were safely landed in his room at the top of +the stairs, and the men had taken their departure, each with a piece +of silver in addition to the skipper's fee. It seemed to him that +there was no bright side to the life over in those wretched Culm huts. +If there was, he could not see it. It puzzled and perplexed him to +imagine how human beings could live in such ignorance and apathy of +all that was transpiring about them; and the sights which he had seen +in the miserable, tumbledown village left a very disagreeable feeling +in his heart. Somehow, his hitherto blithe spirits were dampened by +this morning's walk, and he thought the great bare Rock would be a +great deal more endurable if the fish-huts and their inmates were only +off it. True, it would be much lonelier, but that was far more +endurable than the sight of such shiftlessness and ignorance. He +wondered if Uncle Richard ever went among them, and whether he really +knew what a degraded people they had got to be. If he did know, Noll +thought, it was very strange that he did not try to lift them up, +teach them something, or, at least, have a school opened for the +children. Papa, he thought, would have done something for them long +ago. There would have been a little schoolhouse and a teacher. A new +wharf, he was sure, would have taken the place of the rickety old +thing; and by degrees the women would have learned thrift and +neatness, and the men energy and industry. To be sure, it seemed a +great deal to do for such dull, apathetic people, who seemed not to +have a particle of energy and ambition about them; but papa, he +thought, could have done it, and _would_ have done it, had he lived +here as long as Uncle Richard. He remembered a little sea-town, where +they had lived before dwelling in Hastings, how wretched and dirty and +ignorant the fishermen were, and what a great change for the better +came over the place through his father's efforts. + + But now papa was gone, and Uncle Richard? The man was so much of a +mystery to Noll, as yet, that he did not know whether there were any +hopes of his setting himself to the task of lifting the Culm people +out of their slough of wretchedness; but he hoped that his uncle would +see and realize what needed to be done before another year had worn +away. And if he did not? Why, then they would have to go on in their +old way, he thought. He wished that he might do something toward the +work; but, then, how could he? He had no money, and no means of +getting any, and he was not fifteen. + + Noll put away, or tried to do so, all thoughts of the Culm people and +their life, and went to writing the note which Skipper Ben was to +carry to Mr. Gray on his return to Hastings. When it was finished, he +unlocked his trunk, took a look at the thumbed, worn little Bible +which had been mamma's; at the familiar covers of his school-books, +which brought up a hundred visions of pleasant, happy hours in the +great, buzzing schoolroom,--wondered if he should ever know such +joyful moments again,--it seemed quite an impossibility, now,--and +took up, one by one, the keepsakes and knick-knacks which his boy +friends had given him on his departure. There was the new ball which +Sam Scott had given him,--how Sam _did_ love ball-playing!--and which +was now not of the least possible use to him. There was a great bundle +of fish-hooks which Archie Phillips had bestowed upon him, more in fun +than in earnest, but which Noll had treasured because Archie was his +seat-mate. Then there were all sorts of relics and mementos, such as +boys set their hearts upon,--bits of carved wood, favorite drawing +pencils, a purple amethyst, which Johnny Moore, whose father had been +in India, had given him, and, best of all, there was Ned Thorn's dear, +merry face beaming upon him from out the little ebony frame in which +Ned's own hands had placed it the night before his departure. + + Looking at this face, and gazing upon these mementos of his friends, +did not serve to make Noll at all more contented with Culm Rock and +the prospect before him, and, being presently made aware of this by +the heaviness which began to settle upon his heart, he closed the +trunks in great haste, and ran off. + + The day passed quickly enough, even for Noll, and was only the first +of many happy ones spent by the shore and on the rocks. The boy had a +taste for treasuring curiosities, and in the wonderful wealth of weed +and shell which the sea was continually throwing upon the sand, his +love of collecting and preserving was gratified. Every return of the +tide was a great sweeping in of the wonders and beauties of the sea to +add to his stores. There was always something new and strange to +excite his delight and admiration. Then, too, there were long hours +spent in climbing the rocks, till all its cliffs and hollows began to +grow familiar to the boy. He climbed to Wind Cliff, and from its top +looked down on the Culm houses on the sand, and into the gulls' nests +far below in the crevices of the rock, and enjoyed their wild wheeling +and screaming about him as he stood there. From this high look-out he +often stood looking upon such sunsets as he had never seen before. +High up toward the zenith the sun shot its great banners of flame as +it dipped in the sea, and made the vast expanse glow and glitter. In +the east the sails flitted along the purple line of the horizon, and +down in the dusk shadow of the Rock he could see the grim stone house +and the blue thread of smoke from Hagar's kitchen chimney. Sometimes +he made use of Archie Phillips' gift, and caught fish off the rocks, +much to the advantage of the old housekeeper's dinner-table. + + One week after another passed, and still there seemed plenty of +variety and amusement for every day. In one of his rambles, Noll came +upon a little cluster of graves, with the rudest of monuments to mark +them,--most of them were rough head-boards in which the sleeper's name +was cut or scratched,--and this sight of such poor, uncared-for +resting-places in the sand made him sad and thoughtful for more than +one day. What if he were to die and be buried there, too? he surmised. +The thought chilled him. True, he knew that heaven beyond was just as +bright and fair for all that the graves were so forlorn and dreary; +but the thought of lying far from all his friends, on bare and lonely +Culm Rock, oppressed him till new sights and adventures had somewhat +effaced the remembrance of the sight from his mind. Nearly one day was +spent in the pine woods, whose fragrance and sombre light, and the +deep hush reigning within, both awed and delighted him. Then there +were days of storm and mist which could only be spent in his chamber +or in the library. + + Uncle Richard was generally as silent and stern as ever, and sometimes +chilled the boy's heart with his coldness, and sometimes touched it by +his prolonged and heavy sadness. Noll found more ways than one to make +his affection known, and even when his uncle was stern almost to +harshness, found some excuse for his unkindness in his warm heart, +thinking that all would come right at last, and Uncle Richard lose his +coldness and be as kind and regardful as he could wish. Only once did +he lose his temper and rebel, and for this Noll repented heartily as +soon as it was done. He went into the library one afternoon and asked +permission to go around to Culm and climb up to the gulls' nests on +Wind Cliff. He had explored every nook of the Rock, and this was a +pleasure which he had reserved till the last, and, though not quite +confident of being successful in an attempt to scale the precipitous +cliff, yet he was eager and anxious enough to make the trial. Trafford +was in one of his gloomiest moods, and replied, sternly,-- + + "You would like to break your neck, I suppose, sir, and give me the +pleasure of seeing you brought home bruised and bleeding! No, you +shall not go near Wind Cliff!" + + The angry color came into Noll's face in an instant. "I believe it +_would_ be a pleasure for you to see me brought home with a broken +neck!" he cried, impetuously; "and oh, I wish I were back in Hastings, +where somebody cared for me!" And with this Noll hurried out of the +library, slamming the door behind him. + + Trafford heard these words with astonishment; then, as his nephew's +footsteps died away along the hall, he covered his face and sighed +heavily. + + "Ah," he thought, "I did it for his good; yet--the boy distrusts me. +He can't know what I would be to him if I could; how can he? He thinks +me cold and unloving, and--well, he has reason to." + + Hardly had ten minutes elapsed before the door swung softly open, and +Noll re-entered. Trafford did not look up, did not hear him, in fact, +and presently was startled by a voice saying, brokenly,-- + + "Uncle Richard!" + + Then he looked up. Noll stood before him with downcast eyes and a +trembling lip. + + "Well?" said Trafford, speaking neither with coldness nor yet with +kindness. + + "I--I--I didn't mean what I said a few minutes ago, Uncle Richard," +said Noll, chokingly; "there was not a word of truth in it, and I +oughtn't to have said such a thing." + + A deep silence followed, broken at last by another "Well?" from +Trafford's lips. + + "Will you forgive me, Uncle Richard? I was angry then, and I _don't_ +wish I was back at Hastings," said Noll, grieved, and fearful lest he +had only put a wider gulf between himself and his uncle. + + Trafford was silent so long that the boy ventured to raise his eyes. +To his surprise and astonishment, his uncle was regarding him with +eyes that were neither cold nor stern, but almost tender and yearning. + + "Oh! do you forgive me?" Noll cried, taking hope. + + Trafford laid his hand on his nephew's fair, curly hair, stroking it +gently as he had once before done on the boy's arrival. + + "You need not ask that, Noll," he said. "Go where you will,--I can +trust you." + + "But I'll not go to Wind Cliff?" said Noll, "and I wish--you don't +know how much, Uncle Richard!--that I could take back those words." + + "There is no need," said his uncle. "Go where you will." + + Noll took his departure, more confident than ever that under Uncle +Richard's coldness and seeming indifference there lurked love and +regard for himself, and, true to his word, gave up all idea of +ascending the cliff. + + As for Trafford, though outwardly stern and cold as ever, his heart +went out to the boy more yearningly after that. The month was drawing +near its close, and in spite of himself, he could not regard the +approaching day on which Noll's decision was to be made without some +forebodings. Yet, lest the boy should be influenced by perceiving that +his uncle wished his presence, Trafford was gloomier and more +forbidding than ever, those last days. The boy should be perfectly +free to make his choice, he thought; he would use no influence to +change or bias his decision in any manner. + + "Everything I have set my heart upon has been snatched away by death," +he said to himself; "Noll shall stay only because it is his choice. +Never will I, by look or voice, influence him to share my life and +loneliness. If he stays, and I love him as my own, just so surely will +death snatch him away." + + But that the boy was a great comfort and delight to him he could not +but confess to himself. He was surprised to find how, in those few +short weeks, his cheery presence had won upon his heart. He watched +him from the window as he walked on the sand below, searching for sea +treasures, and could not endure the thought of having the boyish +figure gone forever out of his sight. Neither could he think of the +loneliness and silence which would settle down upon the old house +when the gladsome voice and quick footsteps were gone, without a sigh. +Now it was a great pleasure to go out to the tea-table at evening and +find Noll, fresh and ruddy from his ramble on the shore and rocks, +awaiting him one side the table with his grave and yet merry face. How +would it be when he was gone? It were a great deal better, Trafford +thought, that the boy had never come to brighten the old house with +sunshine for a brief space, if now he went and left it darker and +gloomier than before. And would he go? He should be left to choose for +himself, the uncle thought, though the decision proved an unfavorable +one. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +NOLL'S DECISION. + + + Noll stayed. The day on which the decision was to be made he came into +the library, where Trafford sat, saying, gravely, "Uncle Richard, +to-day I was to choose, you know; and I would rather stay at Culm Rock +and be your boy than to go back. May I?" + + "May you?" exclaimed Trafford, on the impulse of the moment, while +even his heavy heart was glad. "How can you ask that? Oh, Noll! do +you know what you are doing?" + + "To be sure, Uncle Richard! I'm going to stay with you," replied Noll, +without any shadow of regret in his eyes. + + "Ah, boy, I fear you will rue it," said his uncle, shaking his head +mournfully; "remember, whatever befalls, that I did not bid you +stay,--it was at your own risk." + + "Why, what do you mean?" Noll asked, with a puzzled face,--"what is to +befall me, Uncle Richard?" + + "I know not,--I know not," Trafford answered; "there may be nothing to +harm you; yet death ever snatches all that is dear to me, and I +tremble for you, my boy." + + Noll looked grave and puzzled still. "I don't understand, Uncle +Richard," he said. + + "No; how can you?" his uncle said, after a pause. "To _you_, death is +only God's hand; to me, it--oh, Noll, I cannot tell you what it is! I +don't wish to shock you, boy, but I'm a long way from where your +father was when he penned me that calm note,--lying in the very arms +of death at the moment." Noll was silent. "Yes," continued Trafford, +"for me there is no brightness beyond the depths of the grave. All is +dark,--dark! and so many of my friends have vanished in it,--so many +have been lost to me there! Ah, my hope was all wrecked long ago!" + + Noll looked up quickly, with, "Papa lost to you, to me, Uncle Richard? +Oh, that is not true at all! Papa _lost_ to us?" + + "Not to you, not to you, Noll, thank God!" Trafford replied; "but to +me,--yes! His faith he left to you,--I can see, I feel it; but I have +none." + + Noll looked up to the sad-eyed, gloomy man, and fathomed the mystery +of his sorrow at once. Who would not be forever sad with nothing +beyond the grave but blank and darkness in which loved hearts were +alway vanishing? + + "Oh, Uncle Richard," said he, "I'm sorry for you!" + + "I don't deserve it," Trafford said, with unusual tenderness. "How can +you love such a man as myself? Oh, my boy, I've been harsh with you, +and cold and stern; go where you'll find some one that can care for +you better than I!" + + But Noll's face suddenly grew bright. "I wouldn't do that," he said, +earnestly,--"never, Uncle Richard! Papa said I was to live with you +and love you, and I _will_, unless you wish me to go. And if you do +not, don't tell me to leave you again!" + + "I will not, Noll," Trafford said. + + So it was all settled, at last, and Noll's heart--in spite of Uncle +Richard's gloominess--was light and glad. He would stay and see if the +man's sorrow and wretchedness could not be driven away, he thought; +perhaps--who could tell?--he would lose his sternness, and become kind +and regardful, and follow in the path which papa had trod. It all +seemed very doubtful now, it was true, but such a thing _might_ be, +after a time. + + "Yes," said Noll, as he thought of these things, "I would much rather +stay with you, Uncle Richard--always. And now shall we talk about +studies?" + + "True, we were to consider that matter," said his uncle; "yet I had +little hope that you would stay, then. What do you study, Noll?" + + "At Hastings I had arithmetic and geography and Latin. Then with papa +I studied history, and a little--a very little, Uncle Richard--in +mineralogy,--he liked that so, you know." + + "And what do you propose to do here?" asked his uncle. + + "I would like to do just the same," said Noll, "and keep up with my +class, perhaps." + + "He has still some thoughts of returning?" Trafford wondered; then +said aloud, "Well, it shall be as you like. And when will you +commence?" + + "At once, if you please, Uncle Richard. I've had such a long vacation +that it will seem good to get back to books once more; they're all +waiting for me up-stairs. Shall I get them?" + + Noll bounded away as his uncle nodded assent, and went up-stairs with +a merry whistle. Trafford listened to the quick footsteps and the +light-hearted music, and really rejoiced that they were not to flee +and leave the old house desolate. It would be a brighter dwelling than +it had been till--till death came, he thought. And if he could not +teach the boy as Brother Noll had desired him to do, yet he would see +that in the matter of books and study he had every advantage. So, when +the boy came down with his arms full of books, he set himself to his +task with an earnestness that pleased Noll wonderfully. + + "Uncle Richard means that I shall progress," he thought; "and oh, I +_do_ hope I can keep up with Ned and the rest!" + + Trafford found his nephew an apt scholar. He had expected that, +however, for the boy came of a book-loving race. Very likely, had the +pupil proved but a dull one, he would sometimes have wearied of his +task of hearing the recitations every day; but as it was, he found a +positive pleasure in his capacity as Noll's instructor, and generally +a relief from his gloominess. + + Noll's study-hours were at his own discretion; the recitations came in +the afternoon, and after four the boy had the remainder of the day to +spend as he liked. Sometimes the shore claimed him, sometimes the +rocks. Then there were excursions, in company with old Hagar, to the +solitude of the pines, after cones and dry, resinous branches for the +kitchen fire, which never seemed to burn well unless the old +housekeeper had an abundance of this kindling material. + + "Nuffin like dem yer pine cones fur winter mornin's," Hagar always +said; and many were the visits which she and "Mas'r Noll" paid to the +woods, returning with laden baskets. + + Somehow, after a time, the boy found more delight in these simple +pleasures than at first. Once, with all his friends about him, he +would have found no entertainment in a journey into the forest after +cones,--there were other delights in abundance, then; but now, forced +to get all his enjoyment out of the simplest, humblest events, this +work of gathering winter fuel grew to be a positive pleasure, after +the recitations were over, and the short October days drawing to a +close. Then, too, the winter stores were being brought down from +Hastings on the "Gull," and Skipper Ben and his crew came often to the +stone house, to break the monotony of days in some little manner. + + "Yer 'live an' hearty yet, lad!" was his greeting as he came around in +the "Gull's" boat with a variety of provisions for winter use, one +cloudy afternoon. "Well, I mus' say I didn't think to find ye so? +Lonesome any? Goin' to let me carry ye back to Hastings afore the +'Gull' stops runnin'?" + + "No," said Noll, bravely, "I'm going to stay, skipper." + + "Ye'll find the weather a tough un, bime-by," drawled Mr. Snape, as he +rolled a flour-barrel up the sand. + + "Yes," said the skipper, "winters are mos'ly hard uns down here. An' +what ye goin' to do when the 'Gull' stops cruisin' fur the season, an' +ye can't get a word frum the city?" + + This was a contingency for which Noll had made no calculation. Not +hear a word from Hastings for a whole long winter? + + "Well," he said at last, "that isn't pleasant to think of, but I'll +manage somehow, skipper. And you must bring me a great packet of +letters to last till the 'Gull' commences her trips again." + + "Ay, lad," said the skipper, his eyes twinkling. "What be these?" +drawing a parcel from under his pea-jacket. + + Noll's eager "Letters! and for me?" tickled the old sailor +wonderfully. + + "Yes, these be letters," he said, chuckling; "Jack, here, talks o' +runnin' a smack down this winter purpose to bring yer mail!" + + "'Tw'u'd take something bigger'n a smack," observed Mr. Snape, looking +askance to see how Noll grasped the precious parcel. + + "All yer frien's said as how I was to bring ye back on the 'Gull,'" +called the skipper after him, as Noll went running across the sand +toward the house. + + "Oh, how I wish--No! I can't go, skipper; it's no use talking," Noll +answered back as he gained the piazza, and there sat down to open his +precious missives. + + Five or six of his boy friends had agreed to surprise him each with a +letter, and here they were, together with a kind note from Mr. Gray. +What a comfort and pleasure they were! It was almost like seeing the +writers' faces and talking with them, Noll thought. + + Trafford came out upon the piazza while he sat there absorbed in their +contents, and as he walked along toward the skipper, who stood waiting +at the bottom of the steps, noted the boy's eager, delighted face, and +wondered why the lad did not return to his friends, where, it was +quite evident, he was much desired and longed for. Why did he stay on +this dreary Rock? What was there here to make the place endurable for +a boy of his age and tastes? He could not see. + + Those were the last letters which Noll received. The "Gull" made one +or two trips after that, but the first of November brought keen, +sleety weather, and Skipper Ben came no more; so that for the long +months ahead Culm Rock was to be shut out from the world entirely. The +thought of being isolated from all assistance, in case of illness or +trouble, oppressed Noll somewhat till he had accustomed himself to the +thought, and then a vague dread of loneliness and homesickness in the +dragging days of winter haunted him for a time. But getting bravely +over these, and interested in his studies, he began to find that the +November days were not so intolerable, after all. + + Uncle Richard had surprised him one day by bringing in a +writing-table, from one of the unoccupied rooms, and placing it +opposite his own chair by one of the tall windows. "For your books, +Noll," he had said; and from thenceforth the boy's well-worn school +volumes had a place there, and study in the cold chamber was exchanged +for the comfortable warmth of the library. It was not an unpleasant +schoolroom, by any means, though the high, old window framed nothing +but a great stretch of sea and sky,--both, this chilly month of +November, often gray and misty. + + Instead of the roar and din of the city which sounded about the +dearly-remembered room at Hastings, there was the hoarse murmur of the +tide on its rocks and pebbles, the wild whirling of the wind and its +screaming around the corners and over the chimney,--not cheery sounds, +any of them; yet, in the still afternoons, and the cozy quietness of +long evenings when the lamp shed its mild light over the room, and the +fire on the hearth shone redly, there was such calm and peace for +books and study as Noll found both pleasant and profitable. + + In these days, you may be sure, the boy's thoughts were often across +the vast gray sea in front of his window, even when he was bending +over his problems or translations; not that he regretted his decision +to share Uncle Richard's life with him, nor that he had any thoughts +of fleeing away, but those flitting sails on the far horizon were +messengers which alway bore on their white wings thoughts of hope and +love and patience to those over the sea. + + It was not the natural sphere of a boy,--this monotonous, unvarying +round of days, with no companions of his age or tastes; and, as week +after week passed, and Noll was still blithe and apparently contented, +Trafford wondered and conjectured, and could not surmise a reason for +it; though, had he observed closely, it would not have been a great +mystery. For Noll there was the unfailing comfort of the little Bible +which lay beside the huge old bed up-stairs, and which gave the double +comfort of its own blessedness and the remembrance of its preciousness +to her who turned its pages to the last; and there were ever the +pitying ears of Jesus ready to hear the story of discouragement and +loneliness, when the burden of slow, weary days seemed _too_ heavy to +bear. + + Into Trafford's life had come more brightness and content than he had +known since that dark day when his wife left him and vanished in the +darkness which, to his eyes, filled and hovered over the grave. It did +not, as yet, seem like a real and lasting joy; he trembled lest some +day it should prove but a dream, a vision, and so vanish. He often +laid aside his book and looked up, half expecting to find the room as +silent and lonely as when, of old, he was the only inhabitant of the +great library; but there, at the opposite window, sat the pleasant +figure of the boy, busy with his books, and as real and tangible as +heart could wish. It was a perpetual delight, though he hid all +knowledge of it from Noll, to feel that the boy was present, to see +him curled up in a great chair by the fire, watching the flames or the +depths of rosy coal, of a twilight, and to feel that he was _his_,--a +precious gift to love and cherish. So the man's heart began to go out +toward the boy,--tremblingly, warningly at first, then, as he found +him true and worthy, with all its might and all the fervor of which it +was capable. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +DIRK'S TROUBLE. + + + Noll closed his books one afternoon after recitations, saying, "I'll +put on my overcoat, Uncle Richard, and take a run up the shore,--just +for exercise. The waves are monstrous, and how they thunder! I haven't +seen them so large since I came to Culm." + + "Look out for the tide," continued his uncle; "keep away from that +narrow strip of sand up the shore, for the waves will cover it in an +hour." + + Noll promised to be cautious, and ran off after cap and overcoat. +Hagar met him as he came down from his room all muffled for the walk, +and exclaimed,-- + + "Bress ye, honey! where ye bound fur now? Dis yer is a drefful bad +time on de shore! I's 'feard to hev ye roun' dar!" looking at him +anxiously. + + Noll laughed merrily. "Do you think I'm too small to take care of +myself, Hagar?" he asked; "I'm only going for a walk, and to see the +waves. I'll be back for supper with Uncle Richard." + + The sky was wild and gray with clouds. A keen, chilly wind swept +fiercely over the rocks and along the shore, and the dark, +foam-fringed waves rode grandly in upon the beach with a thunderous +shock as they flew into spray. Some of the spray mist wet Noll's face, +even as he stood upon the piazza steps. But, warmly clad, and loving +the sight of the wild tumult, he started with a light heart for his +walk up the shore. As far as he could see, the sea was dark and +gloomy, with long curves of foam whitening its surface and gleaming on +the crests of its racing waves. At his feet, on the sand, lay great +tangles of kelp and flecks of yeasty froth. The air was keen, and +frosty enough to film the still pools in the hollows with brittle ice, +and where the spray fell upon the rocks, it congealed and cased the +old boulders with glittering mail. Not a sail was there in sight, and +Noll thought the sea had never looked so vast and lonely as now. Along +the horizon the clouds were white-edged, and seemed to open and lead +away into illimitable distances of vapor. He stopped under the shelter +of a rock to look behind him, over the path which he had trodden. The +stone house looked dark and forbidding, like everything else under +this wild gray sky; but Noll had long ago ceased to consider it as +resembling a prison. It was home, now, and so took a fairer, brighter +shape in his eyes. Beyond, the pines stood up against the sky, full of +sombreness and inky shadow. + + "How cold and desolate everything is!" thought Noll; "but it's not +half so gloomy as it seems, after all. I wish, though, that Ned--dear +fellow!--was here, just to make it lively once in a while." He walked +on, listening to the heavy thunder of waves, and looking upon the +troubled waste of sea, till he came to the curve of the shore. Here +lay the narrow path of pebbles against which his uncle had warned him. +But there seemed no immediate danger, for the path looked as wide as +ever, and as there was yet an hour before the tide would be in, Noll +hurried across, the salt spray flying wildly about him. + + "I'll go on a little further," he thought, "and I shall get home long +enough before tea-time, then." + + Having gone a little way, however, he chanced to remember that he had +not been at Culm village for a month, at least, and longed to take a +run down to the little cluster of houses. + + "How the waves will dash in there!" he thought; "and I wonder how +those huts stand such a tempest as this? I've a good mind to go, +anyhow,--it's such a good chance to see the place in a gale." He +wavered and walked hesitatingly about in the sand for a few minutes, +and at last decided to go. He ran and walked by turns, the wind +blowing his curly locks in his eyes and taking his breath almost away +with its fierce gusts; yet he kept on. It seemed as if the waves +jarred and thundered heavier on this Culm side than on his own quarter +of the Rock; at any rate, the wind was more powerful, and blew the +spray upon him in showers. + + "I'll get drenched, if the wind keeps on like this!" he thought; "if I +weren't so near, I'd turn back; but the houses are in sight, already, +and I've got to get acquainted with salt water. I'll keep on!" + + When he drew near the little settlement, he was tired enough with +running and battling the wind, and was content to take a slower pace. +Never had the fishermen's huts looked so forlorn and miserable as now. +Noll half expected to see them come tumbling and rolling along the +sand in every gust of wind which struck them; yet, with some +mysterious attraction to their sandy foundations, they held their own, +though some of them creaked and groaned with the strain which was +brought to bear upon their timbers. + + The boy kept on toward the little wharf, over which the waves rolled +and tumbled furiously, without meeting a soul. The water dashed so +high and wildly up the sand that he was obliged to keep well up beside +the houses to escape a drenching. He thought he had never looked upon +so grand a sight as the sea presented here,--all its vast waste +lashed into great waves that came roaring in like white-maned monsters +to dash themselves upon the laud. + + Standing here, close by Dirk Sharp's door, Noll suddenly fancied he +heard a faint wail within. He was not at all sure, the sea thundered +so, and the wind screamed so shrilly about the miserable dwelling; but +presently, in a slight lull of the tempest, he heard the wail--if wail +it was--again. It sounded like the voice of a child,--a child +suffering illness or pain. + + "I wonder if Dirk has any little ones?" thought Noll; "and what can he +do with them, if they are ill?" + + Mentally hoping that his ears had deceived him, and that no one on the +desolate Rock stood in need of aid which they could not have, he was +about to turn away and retrace his steps homeward, as the sky seemed +to shut down grayer and darker than before, and nightfall was +approaching. But at that instant the door of the dwelling opened, and +out came Dirk, beating his breast and crying aloud, whether with pain +or grief Noll was too surprised to notice at first. + + The man failed to see the lad standing close by his door-step till he +had taken several strides up and down the sand, where the wind blew +the spray full upon him,--walking there hatless and coatless. When he +did perceive him, he stopped short, exclaiming, almost fiercely,-- + + "What _ye_ here fur, lad?--what ye here fur? The Lord knows it's no +place fur the sort ye b'long to!" + + "I was looking at the sea," said Noll; "and--and--what's the matter, +Dirk?" + + "Nothin' that'll do ye any good ter know!" cried Dirk, roughly, +beginning to pace up and down the sand again. "Ye can't know nothin' +o' trouble, lad! How ken ye?" + + Noll hardly knew what answer to make to this vehement question, and +finally made none at all, but asked,-- + + "Are any of your family ill, Dirk?" + + "Ill? Sick, ye mean? O Lord! yes, yes,--and dyin'!" + + Noll started. Some one ill and dying on this dreary, wretched Rock! +and no doctor to give aid. He did not know how far he might dare to +interrogate Dirk in his present half-frenzied condition, but ventured, +after a minute or two of silence, to ask,-- + + "Is it one of the children?" + + "Yes, my little gal!" said Dirk, groaning,--"my little gal it is, an' +nothin' to keep her frum it. O Lord! seems as ef I sh'u'd go mad!" and +he threw up his hands to the lowering sky in despair, and faced about +to the sea, letting the cold drops drive into his face. + + Noll was fain to comfort him, but was at a loss how to offer +consolation to such anguish as Dirk's. + + "Isn't there some one on the Rock that can help, that knows something +about medicine?" he asked, eagerly. + + "No, no, lad!" Dirk cried, "there ain't a soul this side o' the sea +ken help my little gal! Ye don' know nothin' o' trouble, lad! Ye don' +know what 'tis ter feel that yer chile's dyin' fur want o' somethin' +to save it! O Lord! seems as ef I c'u'd swim through this sea to +Hastings fur my little gal!" + + He rushed down to the boiling surf, and Noll half expected to see him +throw himself into the sea; but he came back, drenched with a great +wave, with despair and agony upon his face. + + "Here, lad," he exclaimed, "come in,--come in an' see what trouble is! +Ye don' know. How ken ye?" + + Noll followed, and Dirk pushed open the door of his dwelling. The air +which met the boy as he entered the small, low room was so close and +foul that he almost staggered back. The floor was bare, and through a +crack under the door the keen wind swept in across it, flaring the +fire on the stone hearth and puffing ashes and smoke about. A fishy +odor was upon everything. Household utensils were scattered about in +front of the hearth, occupying a quarter of the room, and what few +chairs and other articles of wooden furniture there were, were fairly +black with dirt and smoke. Noll had never before entered a dwelling so +filthy, wretched, and miserable as this. + + "Here, lad," said Dirk, brokenly,--"here--be--the--little gal," and +pointed to one corner, where, watched over by a thin, slovenly woman, +the child lay on its little bed. + + The mother did not take her eyes off the girl, and Noll went forward, +with much inward repugnance, to look upon Dirk's treasure. The child's +cheeks were flushed a bright red, and it lay with drowsy, heavy-lidded +eyes, uttering, at intervals, a low wail. + + Noll shivered, and involuntarily thought of those dreary, desolate +graves which he stumbled upon in one of his rambles. Could nothing be +done? Must the child die for lack of a little medicine? He looked +through the little dirt-crusted window upon the tossing sea, and saw +what a hopeless barrier it interposed between them and aid. He thought +of Uncle Richard, and knew that it was useless to expect aid from that +direction; and then he thought of _Hagar_! She was a good nurse, he +remembered, and knew--or claimed to know--a vast deal about medicine. +Perhaps she could help this child! he thought, with a glad heart, and +if she could! His heart suddenly sank, for he remembered that the old +housekeeper could not make a journey through the storm and tempest, +even had she the necessary skill. + + "But," he thought to himself, "I can tell her about the child,--it's +got a fever,--and she can send medicines; and to-morrow, if it's +pleasant, she can come herself!" and thinking thus, Noll turned to +Dirk, with-- + + "I can get you some medicines, I think, from our old housekeeper. May +I? Shall I try?" + + The fisherman was silent with surprise. He would probably have sooner +expected aid from across the raging sea than from this lad. + + Noll read an answer in his eyes, and hastened to the door, and bounded +away without waiting for any more words or explanations. + + How fast it had grown dark while he was in Dirk's hut! The horizon was +quite hidden, so was all the wide waste a half-mile from shore; but +with the coming of night the sea had lost none of its thunder, nor +the wind aught of its fierceness. Noll ran till he was out of breath. +Then he walked, thinking that the homeward path was wonderfully long. +Then he ran again, feeling almost as if the child's life depended upon +his exertions, and seeming to hear its wail above all the din of wind +and waves. + + Suddenly he plashed to his ankles, and this brought his headlong race +to an abrupt termination. What could it mean? Then he remembered, with +a sudden chill, what, in his eagerness and anxiety, he had entirely +forgotten,--the tide was coming in, and was already over the path +which Uncle Richard warned him against. + + He looked back. The beach over which he had come glimmered faintly in +the dusk, with its long line of breakers gleaming far up and down. +Back there in the darkness, he thought, Dirk's child was dying for +want of medicine. Oh! what to do? He looked down at the foam creeping +about his ankles, and said to himself,-- + + "Pshaw! it's only over shoe, now, and my feet are wet already. I'll +dash through; 'twon't take but three minutes, and I _can't_ wait!" + + He sprang on, thinking to clear the short strip, which the tide had +covered, with a few bounds. A wave, high and broad, which had been +gathering power and volume in all its long, onward course, came +sweeping thunderingly in and engulfed him. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +IN THE SEA. + + + Noll's presence of mind enabled him to clutch the jagged sides of the +rock desperately, so that in the wave's return he was not drawn with +it into the sea depths. Stunned, strangled, half blinded, and impelled +by a sudden horror of death in the cold, treacherous sea, he took two +or three forward steps, fell, then rose and strove to struggle on. +But a little hollow in the path let him down into the flood to his +waist. The spray flew into his eyes and mouth, and breathless and +bewildered he fell again, this time to disappear under the +foam-flecked water. He struggled up to air and life at last, with many +gasps for breath, and once more clutched at the rocks behind him. It +all seemed like the terror of a dream, not real and threatening. Was +he to be drowned? Some sudden thought of the pleasantness of life, of +dear friends across this same cruel, ravenous sea, of Uncle Richard +and his warning, came to him here. To be drowned in this dark, chill, +raging flood? Oh! no, no! Then he saw, out in the gloom and mistiness, +the white gleaming of a wave-crest, rising and sinking, but sweeping +steadily toward him, and knew that it would dash upon his narrow +foothold. Could he survive another? + + Then from Noll's lips came a shrill cry, which rose above the thunder +and battering of the sea; and, whether from terror or whether from the +fact that the dear name was so warm and vivid in his heart at that +moment, the cry was not "Help!" but, "Papa, papa!" + + The cry was answered!--at least, Noll fancied it was, and clung to the +jagged edges of rock with a new love of life in his heart, and, with +his eyes on the approaching wave, which began to loom up dark and +vast, cried out again with all his might. + + Out of the darkness which hovered over his submerged path beyond, a +figure came struggling,--battling the water and making desperate +efforts to run,--crying,-- + + "Noll, Noll! where are you?" + + "Here,--Uncle Richard,--quick!" answered the boy, clinging desperately +to his only refuge,--the slippery, icy rocks. + + The wave came thunderingly in, burst, and hid uncle and nephew from +each other. Trafford uttered a groan of despair, and stood, for an +instant, like one palsied. Back swept the flood, leaving the sand bare +for a minute, and with a shout, the master of the stone house rushed +forward, seized the figure which had fallen there, and sprang away +toward the sand and safety. He gained it, and tremblingly laid his +burden down. Had he only saved a body from which the life had flown? + + "Oh, Noll!" he cried, brokenly,--"Noll, Noll!" + + Only the sea and the wailing of the wind answered him. Hurriedly +gathering the boy in his arms, he started for the house, running and +stumbling through the sand and over the rocks, fearful lest he should +reach its warmth and shelter too late. But before he had gained half +the distance between him and the redly-gleaming window, where he knew +Hagar was sitting before her fire, Noll stirred in his arms. Trafford +stopped, fearing that his excited imagination had deceived him. + + "Noll," he cried, "speak to me,--speak!" + + "Yes--only--I'm--I'm so cold," chattered Noll, faintly; "and--Uncle +Richard--you--you've saved me!" + + Trafford could not speak, so great was the load which had suddenly +lifted from his heart. He started on with his burden, though Noll +protested against being carried, and at every step rejoiced within +himself. What cared he for the thunder of the sea, the wind's +screaming, and the terror of death which they boded? _His_ treasure +was safe, safe!--torn from the very yawning mouth of the deep, and +what were wreck and disaster of others to him? He came to the little +kitchen, presently, the light from its one window toward the shore +beaming cheerily upon him, and threw open the door and entered so +suddenly that Hagar screamed out with affright. + + "De good Lord help us now!" she cried at the sight of the master and +his burden. "What's happened, Mas'r Dick?" + + Noll answered, assuringly, "Nothing very serious, Hagar. I've been +in--the sea. Oh, Uncle Richard! how did you find me?" + + Trafford set his burden down upon the three-legged stool which Hagar +had just vacated, saying,-- + + "I was looking for you, Noll, and heard your cry. O Heaven! what if I +had failed to hear it!" + + "I should have been swept away," said Noll. + + Here Hagar recovered her wits sufficiently to give a little howl of +lamentation. + + "Out ob de sea! out ob de sea!" she cried; "de Lord be t'anked fur it! +Dat yer sea am a drefful t'ing, honey,--allers swallerin', swallerin', +an' nebber ken get 'nough fur itself, nohow. Hagar's seen it; she +knows what dat yer sea is, an' t'ank de Lord, he's let ye come out of +it alive. Mas'r Dick, why don't ye t'ank Him fur savin' ob yer boy fur +ye?" + + "Hush!" said Trafford, his face growing gloomy; "find Noll some dry +clothes, Hagar. Quick, woman!" + + "Yes, in a minnit, Mas'r Dick; quick's I ken git dis yer ole candle +lit. But ef ye don't t'ank de Lord now, ye'll have to come to it 'fore +long, Mas'r Dick; Hagar tells ye so! dat yer time'll come! it'll +come!" + + "Hush!" said Trafford, harshly, "and do as I bade you." + + Hagar went out, sighing, "Dat time'll come, dat time'll come, bress de +Lord!" + + Noll looked up from his seat by the fire, where he sat dripping and +shivering, and said,-- + + "But aren't you glad I'm safe, Uncle Richard?--aren't you thankful?" + + Trafford answered this question with a look which made his nephew +exclaim,-- + + "I know you are, Uncle Richard! Then why--why--aren't you thankful to +God?" + + "Don't, don't, Noll!" said his uncle. "Strip off those wet garments +and make haste to get warm again. Culm Rock is no place for one to be +sick in. Hurry, boy?" + + Instead of hurrying, however, Noll suddenly grew very grave and +exclaimed,-- + + "Oh, I've forgotten something, Uncle Richard! That tide drove it all +out of my head. What can I do? Dirk Sharp's little girl is +sick--dying, and I was to bring her some medicine, if Hagar had any!" + + "What is Dirk or his to you?" exclaimed Trafford. "Was that what kept +you so late? Is that how you came to be caught by the tide?" + + "Yes," said Noll, "I--" + + His uncle interrupted him with a stern, "Noll, you reckless lad! What +are those Culm people to us,--to me? You put your life in peril--oh, +I tremble to think _what_ peril!--for Dirk's miserable child? What +were you thinking of? Have you no regard for your life,--for my +happiness?" + + "Why," said Noll, quickly, "Dirk loves his child as well as you love +me, and I thought perhaps Hagar's medicines could help it, and I +didn't know there was any peril till I got into it; and oh, Uncle +Richard, what will they do now that I can't come back?" + + "I don't know," said Trafford, gloomily; "they are accustomed to such +things, I suppose. Shall I have to command you to take off those wet +clothes?" + + Noll began to remove his ice-cold garments, but presently said,-- + + "Is there,--do you think there'll be any hope of my going back +to-night, Uncle Richard? The child is dreadful sick, you know." + + "Going back!--to-night! Are you crazy, Noll?" Trafford cried. "No, you +will not put foot outside the door this night!" + + "But, Un--" + + "Hush! not another word," said his uncle, sternly. "If you have no +regard for your life, I must have for you. Hagar is waiting at the +door with your dry clothes. Are you ready for them?" + + Noll answered "Yes," his heart suddenly filled with a dreary +recollection of the sight which he had seen in Dirk's miserable abode. +It seemed to him as if he could hear the sick child's wail above the +war of the storm. Dirk, he thought, would watch and wait for his +return, peering through the dirty little window into the gathering +gloom and darkness, and, finding that he did not come, would settle +back into despair again. + + Noll put on the dry garments with a heavy heart. He was sure he felt +strong enough to return to Culm, and although the sea barred the beach +path, yet, with a lantern, he could find a way over the rocks, he +thought. But Uncle Richard had utterly refused; so there was no hope, +and the child must suffer on, and Dirk watch in vain. + + "Oh," thought Noll, "why wasn't I more careful? Why _didn't_ I think +of the tide? Then nothing would have happened, and I could have gone +back!" + + Hagar came in, saying, "Ye'll hab yer supper here, in de kitchen, +Mas'r Noll, 'cause it's warmer fur ye dan in de dinin'-room. Ye won't +mind Hagar's ole kitchen jes' fur once, honey?" + + "No," said Noll, sadly, "I won't mind at all, Hagar, and I'm not +hungry--much." + + Trafford went out to change his own wet clothing. The old housekeeper +bustled between her cupboards and a little round table which she had +drawn before the fire, casting wistful looks at Noll as he sat gravely +gazing in the coals. + + "Bress de Lord! bress de Lord fur savin' ye!" she ejaculated, +fervently, as she bent down over her tea-pot which was spouting +odorous jets of steam from its place on the hearth; "'pears like dar +wouldn't be nuffin left in dis ole house ef de sea had swallered ye, +Mas'r Noll. Don't _ye_ t'ank de Lord?" she asked, peering up into the +boy's sober face. + + "Yes; I'm glad to live, and I thank God for saving me; but oh, Hagar," +said Noll, almost with tears in his eyes, "there's somebody on this +Rock to-night that's as sad as you or Uncle Richard would have been +if the tide had swept me away!" + + "Now!" said Hagar; "an' who is dem yer?" + + "Dirk Sharp's little girl is sick with a fever, and I think she's +going to die,--though of course I can't tell,--and they haven't a drop +of medicine. Just think, Hagar,--dying, and nothing to save!" + + Hagar thought, and sighed heavily over her tea-pot. "Don' know what's +goin' to 'come o' them yer Culm folks!" she said. + + "And," continued Noll, "I promised to bring Dirk some medicine,--I was +going to get it of you; but I got into that fearful tide and was half +drowned, and now--oh, what can I do?" + + "Bress ye, honey, ye didn't 'spect to go back in de dark to Culm?" +cried Hagar. + + "I would--if Uncle Richard hadn't forbidden," said Noll; "do you think +you have any medicines that can help the child, Hagar?" + + "Don' know," shaking her turbaned head. "Ef 'twas rheumatiz, or ef +'twas a cut, or ef 'twas one o' dem yer colds, Hagar'd 'spect to know; +but can't tell nuffin 'bout fevers, nohow. 'Tw'u'd be jes' as de +Lord's willin'!" + + "Will you go, or send something in the morning?" queried Noll. + + "Ef it's pleasant, honey, Hagar'll go wid ye. Yer supper's waiting fur +ye!" + + Noll sighed, and did not stir. The misery which he had seen in Dirk's +wretched hut haunted him. + + Hagar poured out the boy's cup of tea, waited a little space, then +returned it to its steaming pot again. + + "Come, yer supper's cold 'nough, now, honey," said she, coming up to +Noll's seat. "What ye waitin' fur? Oh, chile, ye grows more'n' more +like yer poor father. T'inkin' ob de mis'ry ober dar; ain't ye?" + + "_Such_ misery, too!" said Noll. + + "Well, dar's mis'ry eberywhere!" said Hagar; "can't go nowhere but +what ye'll find it. Yer Uncle Dick has had mis'ry 'nough in his day, +but 'tain't done him no good 'tall. Jes' froze his heart up harder'n a +stone." + + "It isn't all stone," said Noll. + + "Don' ye t'ink so? Well, 'pears like ye's sent here by de Lord, jes' +to break dat heart ob his all to pieces!" said Hagar, earnestly. + + "Sent here to break Uncle Richard's heart?" laughed Noll. "Well, I +wonder if he thinks I came here for that purpose?" + + "Don' know," said the old housekeeper, with a shake of her head; "but +dat's what I t'ink de Lord sent ye here fur. Dat heart ob his is all +frizzed up. 'Spects 'twon't be so allus, chile,--de Lord helpin'." + + Noll ate his supper, bade Hagar good-night, admonishing her to "be sure +and have the medicines ready the first thing!" and groped his way to +the library, where his uncle was sitting at his organ. + + Trafford stopped playing the instant the door opened, and as Noll drew +near, put his arm about him, saying,-- + + "My boy!--_mine!_--doubly my own since I snatched you from death! Oh, +Noll! if I had lost you!" + + The boy sighed. "Dirk has got to lose _his_ child," he said, "and oh, +Uncle Richard, I should be a great deal happier if I might only try to +save it!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DIRK'S TREASURE. + + + At the first gray glimmer of the wintry dawn, Noll was awake. He felt +stiff and lame after his adventure of the previous evening, and not at +all inclined to stir. But a sudden recollection of Dirk and his child, +and the aid which he had promised them, came to him almost as soon as +he was conscious of the day's dawning, and he got up and limped to +the window to see whether there was any prospect of Hagar's journey to +Culm being realized. The sky was as gray and sombre as yesterday's had +been. All the sea was in a great turmoil, and rolled in a flood of +foam upon the shore as far as he could see. Not a sail in sight upon +the lonely waste, not a sign of human life anywhere. Now and then a +snow-flake fluttered down; and the wind screamed shrilly about the +house-corners, and wailed hoarsely in the casements. + + "Hagar can't go to-day," thought Noll, with a sinking heart; "and, oh! +what _can_ be done?" + + He trembled for fear Uncle Richard would forbid him to go to Culm +again. He felt as if he could never bear to meet Dirk's eyes after +promising him aid and failing to bring it; and, with this thought +oppressing him, and the lonely cry of the sea filling his ears, he +dressed himself, and went down to the library with a downcast heart. +His uncle sat by a window, looking, with a sad and gloomy face, upon +the sea; and, as his nephew entered, acknowledged his "Good-morning, +Uncle Richard," with only a cold nod. But Noll, resolved to have the +matter settled at once, came up to his chair, saying,-- + + "I've got a great favor to ask of you, Uncle Richard. May I go around +to Culm after breakfast?" + + Trafford's face grew gloomier than before. + + "For what?" he asked. + + "To carry something for Dirk's child," Noll answered, meeting his +uncle's stern eyes with his own pleading blue ones. + + "Pshaw!" exclaimed Trafford, impatiently, "what are these miserable +fish-folks to you? I don't want you to care for them!" + + "But, Uncle Richard--" + + "Well?" + + "Dirk's child is sick,--dying, I'm afraid!" + + "So are hundreds in this world. There's misery everywhere." + + "Perhaps I might aid this misery, Uncle Richard, if you'll let me try. +Will you?" + + "You will have more than your hands full if you are going to look +after these Culm people," said Trafford, coldly; "you had better not +begin." + + Noll's face grew graver and graver, and he made no reply to his +uncle's last remark. + + "Well," said Trafford, after a long silence, "do you wish anything +more, Noll?" + + The boy turned away, as if hurt by his uncle's coldness, and walked +quickly to the library door. There he wavered--stopped--then turned +about, and came back. + + "Uncle Richard," said he, tremulously, "papa said I was to do all the +good I could in the world, and never pass by any trouble that I might +help, and--and I think he would tell me to go to Dirk's, if he were +here." + + Trafford turned about with an impatient word upon his lips, but it was +not spoken. It seemed to him as if his dead brother stood before +him,--as he had known him when they were boys together,--and that +those words were meant for a reproach. He put out his hand and touched +Noll's shoulder, as if to make sure that it was really his nephew and +no vision. + + "Ah!" said he, with a sigh, "your father looks out at me from your +eyes, Noll. Turn them away from me. Go to Culm, if you like,--you +have my permission." + + "Breakfas's waitin' fur ye!" said Hagar, at the door. + + "But, Uncle Richard," said Noll, in some perplexity, "I don't like to +go and have you all the time wishing me at home." + + "I cannot help that," said Trafford, as he rose to answer Hagar's +call. "I have given you permission,--go." + + The breakfast was a silent one. After it was over, and the door had +closed upon the grim master of the house as he went back to his books, +Hagar said,-- + + "Don't ye let nuffin make ye downhearted, honey! De Lord'll help ye, +ef yer Uncle Dick won't. 'Tain't de might nor de money dat'll do +eberyting, chile. All 'pends on whether de Lord's on yer +side. Jes' come in my ole kitchen and see what I's put up fur ye to +carry to dem yer mis'able folks." + +[Illustration: "Dis yer is brof." Page 183.] + + Noll got his overcoat and cap, and followed the old housekeeper into +her cozy and comfortable dominion. + +"Look at dis yer," said Hagar, taking a basket off the table; +"jes' as chock full as nuffin ye ken think ob. Dis yer is +brof,--chicken-brof,--an' dat yer bundle is crackers. Dis bottle's de +med'cine, an' de chile is to hab a teaspoonful ebery half an hour. Ef +I could be there, de chile should hab a sweat, sure; but dis +med'cine'll hev to answer! Dis yer is a teaspoon an' a teacup, 'cause +ye won't find nuffin fit fur to drink nuffin out ob. Hagar knows how +dem yer Culm folks lib! Now, ken ye 'member all dat, honey?" + + "Yes," said Noll, "and I thank you a hundred times, Hagar. I'd better +start at once, without waiting another minute." + + The old housekeeper followed him to the door, cautioning, "Keep 'way +from dat yer sea, chile! Don't yer git into dat yer drefful tide, +honey! an' de Lord bress ye an' bring ye safe back!" + + The wind was keen and bitter, and the sea thundered as mightily as on +the previous evening. Noll hurried along over the great patches of icy +sea-weed and frozen pools of water in the rocks and hollows, and +thought, now that he was making such haste, that the way had never +seemed quite so long before. He paused for a moment to look upon the +scene of last night's peril, and remember, with a shudder, how the +waves battered, and how they pierced and numbed him with their cold. +Then he ran along the hard, sandy beach as fast as the wind and his +burden would let him. The Culm huts came in sight at last, cheerless +and desolate, and with no sign of life or occupancy about them, save +the faint smoke which the wind whirled down from the chimneys. + + Noll began to regard Dirk's habitation with anxious eyes long before +he drew near. He half expected to see the fisherman's tall figure +pacing up and down the sand, beating his breast and groaning with +despair, perhaps; but instead, the sands were deserted. Noll came +opposite the miserable dwelling, and paused a few seconds before +rapping, waiting to hear the sick child's low wail. He heard only a +confused, unintelligible murmur of voices. + + A woman answered his summons,--not the child's mother, but a neighbor, +evidently,--and stood staring blankly at him. + + "Can I see Dirk,--Dirk Sharp?" Noll asked. + + At the sound of the boy's voice, the fisherman himself came to the +door. His face was haggard, and looked wan and worn, for all the +bronze of wind and weather that was upon it. + + "Lord bless ye, lad!" he cried to Noll, "but ye be too late." + + "Too late?" + + "Yes," brokenly, "my little gal died las' night." + + Noll was silent with surprise. He was too late,--too late. + + "Oh, Dirk," he said, as soon as he could speak, "I would have come +back last night, but I got into the sea, and--and it was impossible. +So I brought what I could this morning." + + Dirk looked at the lad and his basket, and choked. At last he said, +gratefully, "It be good in ye to care for the like o' us, lad. We be +poor folks fur ye to look at, the Lord knows! What did ye bring fur my +little gal?" + + Noll lifted the cover of his basket, and Dirk peered in, exclaiming, +"My little gal never seed the like o' them, lad! She wur a tender +thing, my little gal wur, and mabby ef she'd had a bit o' somethin' +better'n the salt fish--Well, she be beyond meat and drink now," he +said, choking again. + + Noll knew not whether to turn back, or to stay. Dirk, however, +presently said, "Come, lad, step in an' see my little gal. She wur as +white an' sof'-cheeked as yerself. O Lord! I might ha' knowed she'd +never come up stout an' growin' like the rest," he groaned as he +turned back to lead the way for Noll. + + In the room where the little one had lain sat three or four old +fish-wives,--wrinkled, weather-beaten old faces they had,--who were +nodding and whispering over their pipes in a solemn kind of way, +occasionally addressing a word to the mother, who sat enveloped in the +smoke which poured into the room from the ill-constructed fireplace. +They regarded Noll with many curious glances as he passed through +after Dirk to the apartment where the child was laid, and one old +creature followed after them, apparently to ascertain the boy's +errand. + + It was a bare room where Dirk's treasure was sleeping,--not a thing in +it save the two wooden stools and rough board which upheld their still +little burden. Pure and white the child lay,--a fair, delicate flower +when compared with the dinginess and squalor of everything about it; +and something of this contrast seemed to glimmer upon Dirk's rough +perceptions, for he said to Noll,-- + + "Ye wouldn't think she could be mine, lad! Ye don't wonder the little +gal couldn't come up like the rest o' the young uns?" + + "It wur a fair gal, Lord knows," said the old fish-wife who had +followed them in; "it warn't black and freckly, never. Sich kinds +don't love this salt water, Dirk Sharp,--ye couldn't ha' raised her, +man!" + + "Oh, my little gal!" murmured Dirk, smoothing a fleck of golden hair +with his great brawny hand. + + "Ye be fair an' white," said the old fish-wife, touching Noll's cheek +with her skinny finger, "an' what be ye here on the Rock fur?" + + "Sh!--ye let the lad alone, mother," said Dirk; "he be come here to +bring my little gal somethin', an' she be beyond eatin' an' drinkin'. +He be a good lad to do it!" + + Noll looked upon the little sleeper's face, and then at the wretched +surroundings, and was glad for the child's sake that sleep and peace +had come at last. Yet his heart was heavy as he looked upon his basket +and its now useless contents, and he thought, "Oh, if I had only been +more careful last night!--perhaps--perhaps Hagar's medicines could +have helped it." He turned to Dirk, saying, quietly,-- + + "I must go now. I'm--I'm _so_ sorry I was too late!" + + The fisherman followed Noll out on to the sand, and, as the boy was +about to turn away homeward, took both his hands in one of his own +great brown ones, saying,-- + + "Ye be kinder to me 'an I ken tell ye, lad. I thought yer kind had no +heart fur us folk. Bless ye, lad, bless ye!" + + Noll's homeward walk seemed somewhat brighter to him, even though he +left the child dead behind him. Dirk's gratitude, a small matter +though it may have been, gave him a thrill of pleasure. It was +pleasant to think that he had one friend among the fish-folk, rough +and ignorant though they were. He remembered how, in the little +sea-town in which his father had once dwelt, the fishermen came at +last to love and respect the kind minister who worked so patiently to +raise them out of their slough of ignorance and degradation, and that +whenever his father walked among them, they flocked about him to +listen to his words and counsel, and watch for his look or smile of +approval. + + "And," thought Noll, "if Uncle Richard would only do as papa did, what +a happy man he would be, and what good he could do for Culm!" But that +time--if ever it came--was yet a long, long way off, he thought, and +so the people must live on their old, dreary, wretched life till some +one taught them better. + + The boy walked soberly home, with a great many serious, earnest +thoughts in his heart. Somehow, this morning's sight had made another +impression upon his mind beside that of sadness and disappointment. He +felt and saw that there was a great work to do. Who was to do it? + + Hagar met him at the door, rejoicing that he had returned in safety, +but, stopping only to tell her that the child was dead, Noll went on +to the library. It was the boy's intention to open his heart to his +uncle, and tell him of all the want and wretchedness there was at +Culm, while the impression was so deep and vivid in his mind; but +Trafford sat at the organ and took no notice of his nephew's presence, +and, after a long lingering, Noll gave up the attempt for that day, at +least. + + It was late in the afternoon when he went out for his accustomed walk. +Partly by accident, partly by design, he came to the little place of +graves in the frozen sand, and there found the funeral party from the +fish-huts just gathering about the shallow resting-place which had +been scooped for Dirk's treasure. The huddling crowd of poorly-clad +men and women respectfully made way for him, and Dirk looked +unutterable thanks for what he considered a great honor. Without a +prayer, without a word of consolation, the little one was lowered +into the earth amid the wailing of the women, and the shrill and +lonely screaming of the fierce and bitter wind. + + Noll had never seen anything so unutterably dreary, and when all was +over, and the mourners had disappeared over the other side of the +Rock, he went home, thinking more deeply than ever of the work to be +done, and wondering who was to do it. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +FIRELIGHT TALK. + + + The warmth and quietness of the library made such a bright and +pleasant contrast to the dreary scene in the Culm burying-ground that +Noll gave a great sigh of pleasure and relief as he entered the room +and found it light and cheerful with the blaze of a brisk fire on the +hearth. He sat down in one of the big arm-chairs which stood either +side of the fireplace, and held his numbed hands in the warmth, and +looked about him, thinking that the old stone house was a palace in +comparison with the other Culm habitations. Uncle Richard sat in his +usual seat by the window, with his face toward the darkening sea, and, +with the dismal scene which he had just witnessed fresh in his mind, +Noll felt a tenderer yearning toward the stern man,--feeling, somehow, +as if they could not be too near and dear to each other on this lonely +Rock, where, just now, it seemed as if there was little else than +wretchedness. Perhaps it was this feeling which led the boy to leave +his seat and stand by his uncle's chair, and, with one hand on the +grim man's shoulder, to say, "Dirk's child is dead, Uncle Richard, and +they've just buried it. Oh! what a lonely place to be buried in! I +would rather lie in the sea, it seems to me." + + Trafford turned suddenly about at these words, exclaiming, "Hush, +hush! don't talk about death, boy! What have you been up to that +dreary little heap of graves for?" + + "Partly to please Dirk,--partly because I wished, Uncle Richard. It's +a dismal place! I'm glad enough to get back." + + "We shall both sleep there soon enough," said Trafford, who seemed to +be in one of his gloomiest moods. "Why go there till we go for the +last time?" + + Noll's arm went about his uncle's neck. "Don't say such things!" he +said. "Perhaps we'll not live here always, Uncle Richard; and, if we +do have to be buried up there in the sand, heaven is just as near, +after all." + + Trafford looked at the boy's face, ruddy and glowing from the long +walk in the wind, and sighed,-- + + "Yes, for you, Noll. But for me,--no, no!" + + "Why, Uncle Richard?" + + "Because--it is all dark,--dark! I have nothing, see nothing to hope +for beyond." + + "Why won't you try to hope?" said Noll, softly. + + "Hush! it's no use. Your Aunt Marguerite bade me follow after her long +ago. I did not try. Your father said almost the same, Noll. Yet here I +am,--I have not tried, I see no light, there is no hope for me." + + The crackle of the fire and the hoarse voice of the sea had the +silence all to themselves for a long time. At last Noll said,-- + + "When papa died, he did not fear at all, Uncle Richard. He said it was +only the end of his journey, and that I was to follow on in the same +way till I got to him at last. And papa said the truth, Uncle +Richard." + + "Yes! he never said aught else, Noll,--never!" + + "And," continued the boy, his face growing grave, "papa said I was +never to forget God, and never to forget to help any of his creatures +if they were in trouble, and, oh! Uncle Richard, I hope I never +shall!" + + "Ah!" said Trafford, thoughtfully, "your father ever had others' +welfare at heart. I remember, when we were lads, how, one day, in +coming from the woods with nuts and grapes, we passed a poor creature +by the roadside, who seemed fainting with fatigue or hunger. We both +laughed at the queer figure at first, and passed by merrily, and went +on our way; but Noll's face grew graver and graver, I remember, and by +and by he would turn about, in spite of me, and go all the long way +back to empty his pockets of their pennies and bits of silver into the +wanderer's lap. Yes, he had a heart for every unfortunate, and it was +not closed against them as he grew older." + + Again the room was silent, while the fire flickered and painted +flame-shadows on the wall, and lit up the dusky corners with its red +glow. Noll sat on the arm of his uncle's chair, and watched the +quivering shapes, and, in fancy, went back over the sea to Hastings. +It was something such a night as this, he remembered, that papa had +bidden him farewell,--lying so calm and patient in the great south +chamber, where people were stepping softly about, and speaking in +whispers and sighs. And papa's dear arms had been around him till the +last, Noll thought, with his eyes brimming, and seeming yet to feel +their gentle pressure; and, as long as it could whisper, the dear +voice had breathed love and solemn counsel and fervent prayer into his +ears. Back to the boy came the vivid recollection of all the hushed +voice had said,--all the injunctions, the earnest entreaties to follow +in the path which led only heavenward, and his heart was so full that +he longed to cry out, "Papa, papa! If I might only see your face in +this dreary place!" + + Trafford presently said, speaking his thoughts aloud, "It was an evil +day that separated us. God only knows what I might have been, had I +always lived in the sunshine of his pure, warm heart. Why are you so +silent, Noll?" + + The boy could not trust himself to speak, and Trafford suddenly saw +that there were tears shining in his eyes. Noll felt his uncle's hand +laid upon his head, and the stern voice said, with all the tenderness +of which it was capable,-- + + "It's a hard life for you, Noll. I can see,--I know it." + + "No, no!" said the boy, quickly, "it's not that, Uncle Richard! I was +only thinking of--of papa,--that was all." + + "What about him?" queried Trafford; "I never knew that you mourned +before." + + "Why," said Noll, chokingly, "papa told me so much,--so much that he +wished me to do and be,--and it all came to me just then, as if he +were saying it over again." + + "What did he wish you to do and be?" Trafford quietly asked. + + "He said that--that I should find Christ's work to do wherever I might +be, and that I must do his work and follow him wherever I should go; +and--and I'm a long way from that, Uncle Richard; though," Noll added, +turning his face away from the shining firelight, "I do try to do it, +and not forget him nor his work." + + Again Trafford's hand was laid upon the boy's head, this time to +stroke his curly locks away from his eyes, where the wind had blown +them. + + "Did he tell you aught of me?" he asked, presently. + + "No,--only that if you ever found me, or I you, that I was to be your +boy. Papa said you would care for me." + + "He believed in me still! He trusted me!" said Trafford. "Alas! he +knew not what a father I should make his child." + + Noll slipped off the chair arm, saying, "Don't say that again, Uncle +Richard. Papa trusted you,--so do I. And, if you please, will you go +out to supper? Hagar called a long time ago. Come, Uncle Richard, +don't look so gloomy! Papa smiled even when--when he was saying +good-by to me." + + The instant these words escaped Noll's lips he half regretted them. He +had never before allowed his uncle to know that he thought him sad and +gloomy, and he was not quite sure that the careless word would strike +agreeably upon his ears. But Trafford only said,-- + + "Yes, Noll, I know. We will go out to supper," and rose from the chair +and followed after his nephew. + + The boy did his best to make the meal a cheery one, thinking to +himself that this, as much as anything, was a part of the work which +papa wished him to do; and, observing his efforts, Trafford endeavored +to keep pace with his nephew's cheerful talk. Noll did not go back to +the library after tea was over, but followed Hagar out to her kitchen +as she went thither with her tray of dishes, and sat down in the cozy +corner by the fireplace. Somehow, the boy thought, the old +housekeeper's humble kitchen seemed to gather more brightness and +cheerfulness into its rough and smoke-tarnished precincts than the +great library, with all its comforts and elegancies, ever held. The +reason for this he did not seek; he only knew that it was so, and +liked the wooden seat in the chimney-corner accordingly. Hagar came +out with her last tray-load from the dining-room, and set it down upon +the table with,-- + + "Bress ye, honey, Hagar's glad 'nough to see ye sittin' dar. 'Pears +like I never heard de sea shoutin' like it is dis yer ebenin'. Seems +as ef all de folks dat de cruel ole monster hab swallered wur jes' +openin' the'r moufs and cryin' 'loud! Hagar t'anks de Lord dat yer +ain't in de bottom ob it, honey." + + The old housekeeper took two or three side glances at the boy's sober +face as she poured the hot water over her dishes, and said at last, +"Now don' ye s'pose Hagar knows what ye're t'inkin' ob so hard, chile? +Ki! she c'u'd tell ye quicker'n nuffin. You's t'inkin' ob dem mis'able +Culm folks, you is." + + "You are partly right," said Noll. "It seems to me as if I couldn't +think of anything else. I try to sometimes, but the sight of their +wretched ways keeps coming to me, and it's no use to try and put it +away. Oh, dear, I wish something could be done for them!" + + "Dat's yer bressed father all ober!" said Hagar. "'Spects ef he was +'live an' livin' on dis yer wild'ness, we'd see somethin' did fur 'em. +But Mas'r Dick--well, his heart is all frizzed up, jes' as I telled ye +afore. But de Lord'll open it sometime, honey,--Hagar's got faith +'nough to b'lieve dat!" + + "Oh! I hope so," said Noll; "but what are the people going to do till +then?" + + "Can't tell ye nuffin 'bout dat," said Hagar, making a vigorous +clatter among her dishes; "'spects the day's comin', tho', when de +Lord gets ready fur't. 'Tain't till _he_ says, honey." + + Noll gravely replenished the fire from the great basket of cones and +chips which stood on the hearth, and stood listening, for a little +time, to their brisk snap and crackle, then turned to Hagar, saying,-- + + "Do you think I could do anything for them, Hagar? I've been thinking +this long time about it, and there's no one to ask but you, for I +can't quite get courage enough to say anything to Uncle Richard about +it,--he would be angry, I'm afraid. Do you think I could do anything, +Hagar?" + + The old housekeeper let go her dishcloth, and turned about to look at +Noll, as he stood before the fire. Her eyes surveyed the lad from head +to foot,--as if it was the first time she had seen him,--and after a +few minutes of silence she slowly said, "What put dat in yer head, +chile?" + + "I don't know; it's been there this great while. It was the misery +over there, I suppose," said Noll. + + "Well, well," said she, turning back to her dishes, "Hagar's +'stonished, she is! Does I 'spect ye ken do anything fur dem yer? +Bress de Lord! He'll help ye, honey!--he'll help ye! An' ef it wa'n't +de Lord dat put it in yer head--Well, chile," Hagar added, "de Lord's +eberywhere, an' 'pears to me like as ef it was his doin'. What ye +t'ink, honey?" + + Noll was looking in the rosy bed of coals, and for a few minutes made +no reply; then he said, in answer to Hagar's question,-- + + "I'd like to think that, Hagar. I'd like to have all my thoughts and +plans come from him, and I'd like to do the Lord's work; for that's +what I promised,--that's what I am trying to do." + + Hagar wiped a pile of plates, and laying down her towel, said, +reverently,-- + + "Promise, chile? Did ye promise de Lord, or who?" + + After she had asked this question, she looked furtively over her +shoulder at Noll, as if fearing she had asked about something which +she had no right to know. + + But Noll, with hands clasped over knee, was looking straight into the +firelight, and did not appear offended; and pretty soon he said, +slowly and softly, Hagar stopping her clatter to listen,-- + + "Before mamma died--Did you know mamma, Hagar?" + + "Not muchly, chile," said Hagar; "yer Uncle Dick's wife was my lady." + + "Well, before mamma died," continued Noll, "we used to take long walks +upon the shore by the town. A great shining shore it was, I remember, +and yellow like gold sometimes when the sun shone upon it." + + "Like de shore ob de new Jerusalem," interposed Hagar, gazing +abstractedly in her dish-pan. + + "And there were great cedars and pines drooping down from the rocks," +continued Noll, "and here mamma and I used to walk up and down when +papa was busy in his study; and almost always he used to come out to +walk a little with us before we were through. And one day we waited a +long time for him to come out, and at last sat down on a rock, for +mamma was not well then, and could not walk long without a rest; and +as she looked across the smooth water, she said, 'And the building of +the wall of it was of jasper: and the city was pure gold, like unto +clear glass.' Though I was a good deal smaller than I am now, I knew +what she meant, and of what she was thinking, for mamma used to talk +about leaving me then; and I laid my head in her lap and cried a +little, and said,-- + + "'Oh, don't talk of that, mamma, for what am I going to do?'" + + Noll choked a little here at the remembrance, and Hagar drew a long +breath. + + "Then," continued Noll, with a quivering voice, "she bent her face +over me and the tears in her eyes ran over on to my cheeks, and she +said,-- + + "'Oh, my little Noll, if mamma could feel sure that you were ready to +come after her into that city, she would never cry or mourn again!' + + "It seemed as if my heart would break to see her cry and to know that +I was _not_ ready, and that I could not stop her tears. I wanted to +scream and groan, my heart swelled so." + + "Ob course ye did," said Hagar, with ready sympathy. + + Noll was silent for a long minute. Somehow, the talk with Uncle +Richard in the library had brought back the remembrance of all these +past events so brightly and vividly that it was like living them over +again. But he had not yet got to the "promise," and Hagar was waiting +patiently. So he continued, with a slight effort, saying,-- + + "Mamma dried her tears very suddenly, for papa came in sight just +then, and I suppose she feared he would be worried or anxious about +her, and though she said nothing more to me about the city to which +she was going, I couldn't forget her tears, nor that she was sorrowful +and unhappy on my account. It made me miserable. I didn't want to walk +with her the next day, for fear I should see her tears again; and I +knew I could not bear _that_. So when it came time to go, I hid away, +and she went alone." + + "Poor honey!" said Hagar, reflectively. + + "But that only made it all worse. I knew that I was all wrong, and +that I ought to try and find Jesus, through whom, mamma said, she +could only enter into the city. But it seemed as if he had hidden away +from me; and the way was all dark and I was afraid and wretched and +miserable." + + "Oh, chile," said Hagar, "de bressed Lord was waitin' an' ready to +take ye up in his arms de berry minnit ye frowed yerself on his +mercy!" + + "Yes," said Noll, "but I was not ready. I held back, and was wicked +and wretched; but it couldn't last alway, and one night when I had +said my prayer and been tucked in bed by mamma's poor weak, patient +hands, I could delay no longer, and throwing my arms about her neck +when she bent down to kiss me, I cried and sobbed, and begged her to +help me find Jesus, who reigned over the city, and mamma cried +too,--tears of joy they were, she said,--and told me that I had not to +seek for him as for a great stranger, but that he stood ready to enter +in and dwell in my heart the moment I yielded it up to him." + + "Dat was de bressed troof!" said Hagar, with shining eyes; "an' what +did ye do den, honey?" + + "Mamma called papa to come, and he prayed that Jesus would forgive me +and make my heart his own, and help me to always walk in the path that +ends at last at the gate of his city. And," Noll added, turning partly +about to Hagar, "I did give up, and--and I think he forgave me. The +dreary load went off my heart, and I promised Jesus then to never +forget him nor his work. When mamma did at last go to the city, I +promised her the same; when papa went, I promised him too. That is my +promise," said Noll, a little tremulously. "Do you think I can forget +it, Hagar? Do you think I can help wanting to do what is his work?" + + Hagar wiped her eyes. "'Spects dere's no need ob answerin' dat +question," said she, quietly; "when de Lord's wid ye, dar ain't nobody +gwine to 'vent yer workin' good, nohow." + + "But I don't know how to begin," said Noll, "even if I could do +anything. There's so much to be done, and I've nothing to do with. And +I'm afraid that Uncle Richard will forbid me to do anything about it. +He doesn't want me to go to Culm, he says, and he dislikes the Culm +people." + + Hagar did not know what consolation to offer for this unfavorable +prospect. She could not counsel the boy to disobey his uncle's +commands, neither did she accept the idea of having Noll's projects +defeated for lack of permission to carry them out. + + "Don' know, honey," said she, after a long meditation; "can't tell ye +nuffin 'bout dat, nohow. But jes' go right on wid yer plans, an' de +Lord'll find a way fur ye. He ken do it,--he ken do it, chile." + + But the question was not settled in Noll's mind. It was not a thing to +be undertaken without much deliberation, and, as yet, only the vaguest +of schemes floated through his mind. He wished to aid, he longed to be +doing something of the work that was to be done, but there did not +seem to be the smallest prospect of a commencement. + + Christmas came and went. The eve was not an unpleasant one to Noll, +though he remembered all too well what a blithe evening the last +Christmas-eve had been, and could not help thinking yearningly of the +dear friends gathered merrily together across the sea, and wonder +whether he was missed from the throng, as he sat by the fire all the +solitary evening. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE WINTER'S WANING. + + + Dirk's little one was not the only fever-stricken sleeper that was +laid to rest in the dreary little burying-ground that winter. The +fever, born of want and filth and exposure, lingered among the +wretched huts, taking down the strong men and wasting the lives of the +little ones, till, after weary lingering, they flickered out. Of +course the sick ones had but the poorest of care and the rudest of +medical aid. The people were disheartened and apathetic, and seemed to +have no idea of cleansing their habitations or reforming their way of +living. Noll once ventured to hint to Dirk, with whom he was more +intimately acquainted than the others, that cleanliness and care might +do much toward ridding them of the haunting fever. The fisherman +stared blankly at this suggestion, and replied,-- + + "It mought do fur the like o' ye, lad; but we be poor folks, an' I +don't think 'tw'u'd do the good ye think. The fever be come, an' it be +goin' to stay till we be all lyin' up in the sand yender." + + So the sickness lingered, meeting no resistance and no attempts to +check its progress. It smote heaviest the little ones just toddling +about, and who had not enough of strength and endurance in their +little bodies to resist the slowly-destroying fever. So Dirk's +treasure did not sleep alone in the sand, for many another father's +was there to keep it company. Oh! the weariness of the days, the slow +dragging of the weeks! When the sickness seemed to have spent itself, +and hope was beginning to flicker up, back came the destroyer and fell +upon some little one whom father and mother had fondly hoped to +save,--for these Culm people, dull and ignorant though they were, had +a strong and passionate love for their children that showed itself +most vividly in these days of death,--and then the people settled into +their old apathetic despair and found no light nor comfort for their +souls. + + Was it any wonder that--with all this misery and death about him, and +the sight of it distressing him--Noll should grow sick at heart? The +gloom of the old stone house and the desolateness of his new home, +when compared with the one which he had left, had, at first, been all +that his fresh young spirits could bear; and, having grown to like his +new abode in a measure, he found, even then, that it would not do to +remember Hastings and his friends too often; and now, in these dreary +days, the boy began to grow less cheerful and to feel an unconquerable +desire to go back to those who loved him and whose homes knew nothing +of dreariness or gloom. This longing for friends he kept bravely to +himself, because he thought it was a part of his work--the work which +it seemed to him was God's--to be as brave and cheerful as possible +before Uncle Richard, and win him out of his gloom and moroseness. So +this yearning and desire for brighter scenes and faces was kept a +secret, and Trafford suspected nothing of it. His keen eyes, however, +detected that Noll was graver and less talkative than usual, and he +began to look about for a reason. Some dim knowledge of the sickness +and death in the village had crept in to him through Noll's and +Hagar's talk, and a sudden fear chilled him lest his nephew, too, was +to be stricken down with the lingering fever. What if it should be so? +What if even now the boy was oppressed with the languor and depression +which precedes illness? With this thought torturing him, he called to +Noll one afternoon from the library window, as the boy was idly +walking up and down the frozen sand. After a few minutes of waiting, +Noll made his appearance at the library door, looking a little +surprised, perhaps, at this unusual summons. Trafford bade him come up +to his chair, and Noll obeyed. + + "Where were you all the forenoon?" questioned the uncle. "I saw you +but once after breakfast." + + Noll looked as if he had much rather refrain from answering, but said, +after a few seconds of hesitation, "Over at Culm, Uncle Richard." + + "At Culm!" exclaimed Trafford, sternly. "Isn't the fever raging +there?" + + "Yes, sir." + + "And you have been exposing yourself? Speak, Noll!" + + "Why--yes--I suppose so, Uncle Richard. I was in the room where Hark +Darby's little boy was sick." + + Trafford stamped upon the floor with impatience. "What were you there +for?" he cried. + + "To carry something that Hagar made for it to drink. There's no +doctor, you know; and they're terribly poor, Uncle Richard. Oh! if you +could only--" + + "Stop! I wish to hear naught of those fish-folks," cried Trafford. +"Oh! you careless lad, what can I do with you? Are you determined to +catch the fever? Are you bound to be always in danger?" + + "No; but it's terrible over there, and--and they're dying with the +sickness, and nothing to make them comfortable! Oh! how can I help it, +Uncle Richard?" + + Trafford looked into the lad's earnest eyes and sighed. "Would you +like to take the fever and be buried with the rest up there in the +sand?" he asked. + + Noll shivered a little, and answered, "No, I don't want to die, Uncle +Richard. But I think I ought to help them all I can, over there, for +all that. And it's such a little--such a _very_ little--that I can do! +Oh! Uncle Richard, don't you think it is terrible to see them so +wretched, and no one to help them?" + + "I don't see them!" said Trafford; "I should know nothing of it but +for you, and I don't want you to see them or know aught of the misery +or the sickness. Do you understand?" + + Noll looked at his uncle as if he failed to comprehend. + + "You don't mean that I'm not to go there any more?" he said. + + "Yes, since you are not disposed to incline to my wishes, I must +command you. You are not to go near--" + + This time it was Noll who interrupted. Before Trafford could finish +his command, the boy had taken two or three quick steps forward and +clasped his arms so quickly and convulsively about the stern man's +neck that he was startled into silence. + + "Don't, don't say that, Uncle Richard!" cried Noll; "I couldn't mind +you if you did! It wouldn't be right,--when they're all sick and +almost starving,--and I couldn't do it, and it is not as papa told me +to do! And--" + + Trafford endeavored to release Noll's hold, but the boy only clung the +tighter, exclaiming,-- + + "No, no! don't say it, Uncle Richard, for I couldn't mind you! Papa +never would wish me to! And oh, why don't _you_ help those poor, dying +people? Why don't you help them, Uncle Richard? Why don't you,--why +_don't_ you?" + + Surprised at this unusual vehemence on the part of his nephew, +Trafford was silent, hardly knowing whether to be angry or +indifferent. That this matter lay very near the boy's heart, he had no +longer any doubt. What could he do with him? + + "Noll," said he after a long silence, "do you mean that you will not +obey me?" + + The boy hesitated. "In everything else, Uncle Richard," he answered, +with red cheeks and downcast eyes; "but this--but this--oh, how can +you ask me to stop? There isn't any one else to do anything, and it +helps a little, and they look for me to come every day; and if I did +not--oh, Uncle Richard, it would be too cruel! I can't do it! Do _you_ +think papa would be pleased?" + + "But you are mine, now, not his," said Trafford; with something like +displeasure in his tone; "aren't you aware of it?" + + Noll said not a word, but stood with his eyes turned away from his +uncle's, and his cheeks crimsoning, while his breath came quick and +fast. + + "Will you obey me or not?" Trafford asked, sternly. + + Noll turned around and met his uncle's eye. He began to plead. His awe +of his uncle seemed to have vanished for the time, and Trafford was +astonished at the boy's earnestness and vehemence. Two or three times +he was about to put up his hand to command silence, but Noll redoubled +his pleading, and he continued to listen. All the remembrances of the +past dreary weeks--the want, the slow wasting, the flickering out of +life, the dismal laying away of the poor body in the sand--came to +Noll as vividly as the reality which he had witnessed, and made him +pray for relief with an earnestness and entreaty which ordinarily were +not his. + + "Just think, Uncle Richard," said he, in conclusion, "papa would have +gone to their aid long ago. He bade me do all the good I could, and +you won't forbid me?--oh, I know you will not!--and won't you help me +to do more,--won't you, Uncle Richard?" + + Trafford gloomily pushed his nephew away. + + "Go!" he said; "I do not care to see you any more this afternoon." + + Hardly had the boy turned away, however, before the quick thought +flashed into his mind that he had failed to ask him the question for +which he had called him. He might even now be ill, and he was sending +him away in anger! + + "Noll!" exclaimed Trafford, "come back. Are you ill, my boy?" + + "No, sir." + + "Why are you so grave and sober of late?" + + "I didn't know that I was, Uncle Richard." + + Trafford looked keenly in his nephew's face, and at last drew him +toward himself. What if the fever should get a hold of the boy? he +thought, anxiously. There was no aid, no succor! + + "Oh, Noll," he said, as tenderly as he might, "you cannot know what a +blow it would be to me to lose you. Won't you be careful for my sake?" + + "Yes, Uncle Richard; I don't think there is much danger, though. It is +only the weak, half-starved ones that are ill." + + A long silence followed. Then Noll asked, softly,-- + + "Do you give me permission to help them all I can, Uncle Richard?" + + Trafford drew a great sigh, as if he felt himself to be yielding, +perhaps, the boy's very life, and answered, "Yes." + + "And you'll help me, too?" said Noll, brightly. + + "No! Isn't this enough? What more would you have?" + + "I thought that--that perhaps you would help a little, too,--you can +do so much more than I," said Noll. + + Trafford shook his head, gloomily. "No," he said; "I can give you +nothing but money. I have no heart for the work. And now I think of +it, you've had no allowance since you came here, Noll. I had not +thought of it before. Brother Noll and I always had spending-money." + + "But I've no use for it," said Noll, with a little laugh; "I couldn't +spend it if I tried, Uncle Richard!" + + "You may find a use for it when the 'Gull' begins her trips again," +said his uncle; "at any rate, you shall have an allowance. You will +find it on your study table every Monday morning." + + Noll thanked his uncle for this kindness, but at the time, was much at +a loss what to do with his weekly allowance which every Monday morning +brought him. He found a use for it, however, as time will show. + + After this long talk, Noll felt somewhat lighter-hearted, if for no +other reason than because he had received Uncle Richard's permission +to go on with his work of aid. Spring was not far off, and with its +coming the fever would most likely flee, and then, he thought, there +would be some hope of doing something for the Culm people. And was he +not already doing something? + + To Noll, it seemed but the merest trifle; in the eyes of the poor +fish-folk, his deeds were great and wonderful. All unconsciously, the +boy was accomplishing one of the most difficult portions of the task +which he had set for himself,--the winning of those rough, untaught +hearts. Many an uncouth blessing was called down upon the lad's head +as he made his appearance day after day at the doors of the +habitations which the fever had entered. His cheery, gladsome +presence, the Culm folk thought, was like a ray of sunshine in the +gloom of their hovels. It was curious to see how those great brawny +men confided in him, and watched to see him coming down the sands of a +morning-time, with his basket of delicacies on one arm, balanced by a +basket of more substantial food on the other. Not one of the men but +what, in their hearts, loved the boy and blessed the day which brought +him to Culm Rock. And, quite before he was aware of it, Noll had +accomplished one great object, and won the love and confidence of the +fish-folk. + + The snow melted and ran into the sea, the ice in the rock hollows +trickled its life away, and warmer winds and sunnier clouds gave token +of the spring's coming; and Noll grew happier every day and looked +gleefully forward to the coming of the "Gull," and the tidings which +she would bring. Often in these days, when returning from his morning +round, it seemed to the boy as if his own father's blessing rested +upon his heart, it was so light and glad, and that God's love was all +about him and smiling over the barren Rock and the far, wide sea. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +NED THORN. + + + It was on one of the balmiest of spring afternoons that Noll went over +to Culm to see a little child who was recovering from the fever. The +sickness, apparently, had run its course, and the people were +beginning to take heart; and the men were overhauling their nets and +making ready for their summer's work. There had been a heavy storm on +the previous evening, and Noll found quantities of brilliant +sea-weeds and curious shells and pebbles on his walk along the beach, +and lingered long to search for treasures and enjoy the bright +loveliness of the day. Culm Rock and the great sea had never looked +fairer to him than on this afternoon,--the one lying warm and silent, +its great stone ribs purpling under the sun, and the other flecked +with curling ripples of snowy foam and emerald light. + + It was late afternoon when he arrived at the Culm houses, and so long +did he linger that the sun was dipping in the waves before he was +ready to leave his little patient. He was standing in the door, +swinging his basket to and fro, and on the point of taking his +departure, when a sudden shout of voices from without turned his +attention in that direction. There, slowly riding in over the waves +all burnished and aflame with ruddy sunlight, was the "Gull"! + + For a few short seconds Noll actually stood still with pleasure and +delight, then dropping his basket, he ran off across the sand toward +the wharf, as fast as he could go. The fishermen were already +congregating there, and their wives were standing in the doors of +their dwellings to gaze upon the welcome sight. + + The vessel's white wings slowly brought her round to the little wharf, +revealing the skipper's sturdy person, and Mr. Snape's long and solemn +visage. Noll could hardly wait for the craft to touch the planks, and +Skipper Ben spied the lad before the "Gull" came up, with a dull thump +and jar, alongside. + + "Great fishes!" cried he, extending his hand to aid Noll in clambering +aboard, "if here ben't the lad, alive an' hearty! Glad ter see +ye,--glad ter see ye!" shaking the boy's hand as if he never would +have done. + + "You may believe I'm glad to see you!" said Noll; "I never was so glad +to see anything as the old 'Gull' in my life; and oh, why didn't you +come earlier, skipper?" + + Ben laughed. "I knowed ye hev a hard time on't," he said; "reckoned +ye'd be glad ter see the old skipper once more. An', lad, how goes +it?" + + Mr. Snape came up just here, drawling, "What ye think o' the winters +down 'ere, now, lad?" + + "They _are_ long," said Noll; "but I've got through one, somehow. If +it weren't for the sickness, and such a long time without letters, I +wouldn't mind. Oh! skipper, haven't you got a great packet of 'em for +me?" + + "Been sick down 'ere; hev ye?" said Ben, evading Noll's question. +"Well, that's wuss'n bein' without letters, eh, lad?" + + "But haven't you got a bundle of 'em for me?" queried Noll. "I can't +wait, skipper!" + + The skipper began to slowly shake his head. "Sorry," he said, "but I +didn't bring ye nary letter this time. Don' know but all yer frien's +hev forgot ye, fur they didn't give a single scrap o' paper to bring, +nor a message, nuther." + + Mr. Snape began to grin, seeing how Noll's face fell, and how all his +joy and eagerness had suddenly vanished, and stepping along to the +hatchway, made certain mysterious signs and beckonings to something or +some one, there. Noll, filled with disappointment, walked away to the +stern and looked down into the green depths of water rippling there, +and strove to conceal his feelings from the watchful skipper. Up from +the hatchway and along the deck came a light step,--eager, +hurrying,--and before Noll could turn around, two arms had clasped him +about and held him fast against the rail, while a voice--just as full +of laughter and merriness as a voice could be--cried,-- + + "Oh, Noll, Noll Trafford! not to know me! not to _guess_ that I was +here! Why, you dear old fellow, ain't I better than letters? I've a +good mind to never let you look around to pay for not mistrusting that +I was here! Oh, Noll!" + + "Well, I be beat!" said the skipper. "I never seed a lad so +dumbfounded afore. What ye goin' to give me fur bringin' ye sech a +parcel, Master Noll?" + + But Noll had only eyes and ears for his friend. + + "Ned, Ned Thorn!" he exclaimed, looking at his friend with wide-open +eyes, as if he thought he was seeing a vision. "It is really you, only +grown a little taller!" + + "Of course it is; who else should it be?" said Ned, drawing his friend +out to one of the skipper's bales, where they could both sit down. +"You're brown as an old salt, Noll; but you haven't grown a bit! Oh, +but you may believe I'm glad to see you! I thought you'd be dying by +this time to see some one from Hastings, and when the skipper pointed +out the old stone dungeon where you live, I thought likely you were +dead already. What a horrid old fortress 'tis! and weren't you awful +homesick? and aren't you terribly moped up in such quarters? and, you +dear old Noll, how _have_ you managed to live it through, anyhow?" + + "Beats everything at questions, that lad does," observed Mr. Snape to +the skipper; "nigh about pestered me to death, comin' down. You'd +better charge double ef yer goin' to carry him home, 'cause it's two +days' work fur one man ter tend to his talk. I ben't goin' to do't fur +nothin'." + + "They ben't glad to see each other, eh, Jack?" said Ben; "wish there +was some prospect o' taking t'other home, too." + + "I sh'u'd be 'feared the 'Gull''d founder," said Mr. Snape. + + Noll, in the midst of happy talk, suddenly recollected that it was +after sundown, and that Uncle Richard and the tea-table would be +waiting. + + "Come, Ned," he said, gleefully, "I'd forgotten all about sunset and +home till this minute. It's a good long walk, and we must start." + + "I'm ready," said Ned, jumping up. "Skipper, where's my carpet-bag? +I'm going to stay, Noll, just as long as you'll keep me; and now I'm +anxious for a look inside your old dungeon and a peep at that grim +old--that's what the skipper said he was--uncle of yours. Do you think +he'll scold because I've come?" + + "Indeed not!" said Noll; "and Uncle Richard's not so very grim, +either. We'll have splendid times in the old house, and now see if you +aren't sorry when it comes time for you to leave Culm Rock." + + They clambered over the "Gull's" side on to the wharf, and passed +through in the little lane which the fishermen made for them, to the +smooth and shining sand, and so started for the stone house. + + Ned Thorn was a boy of Noll's own age, and much resembled him in +appearance, though, of the two, Ned was a trifle the taller. Indeed, +as Mr. Snape observed, leaning over the rail and smoking his pipe +while he watched the two lads walking briskly homeward,-- + + "They're as like as two peas, Ben,--did ye note?--only one's more so +than t'other." + + It seemed to Noll, while on this homeward walk, that nothing was +lacking to make home pleasant, now that Ned had come. His friend's +presence did not seem a reality, as yet, and he had to listen a long +time to Ned's merry chatter before he could realize that it was +actually Ned Thorn who was walking beside him in this purple twilight, +along the shore of the glimmering, sounding sea. + + "What a queer place!" said Ned, stopping, at the curve of the shore, +to look off at the horizon, which seemed to rise higher than their +heads, and turning to look at the dark wall of rock behind them; "and +what a lonesome sound the waves make! I should have died of the blues +in three weeks. And what a miserable set those fishermen are! They all +seem to like you, though. Did you see how they made way for us, and +touched their caps, some of them? What a capital place to fish, off +those rocks! I'm glad I brought hooks and lines, and--What's that +light ahead? A lighthouse?" + + "No, only Hagar's kitchen window," said Noll; "Hagar's our black +cook, and there's only three of us in that great house, Ned!" + + "I should think you'd lose each other! Is your uncle like your father +at all?" + + "No, Uncle Richard's not much like papa," said Noll, with sudden +graveness; "but he loves me, and--and I hope you'll like him, Ned." + + They walked the rest of the way in silence till they came to the +piazza steps under the shadow of the great stone house. + + "It looks just as it did when I saw it first," said Noll,--"the sea +getting dark and shadowy and making that lonesome sound on the +pebbles, and oh, how I had to rap and search before I could find my +way in! But come on, Ned." + + Noll led his friend along the echoing hall, straight to Uncle +Richard's library, where the lamp had been lighted. + + "This is Ned Thorn, Uncle Richard," said he, as they entered, "and +he's come clear from Hastings to see me." + + "Ned is very welcome," said Trafford, who chanced to be in a cheerful +mood, "and if you boys are ready, we will go out to tea." + + Noll ran on before to Hagar's kitchen, where he burst in, +exclaiming,-- + + "Another plate and teacup, Hagar! Did you know that we have actually +got company? It's Ned Thorn, a dear friend of mine, and he's from +Hastings, and going to stay--I don't know how long. Will you bring +them? Is tea all ready?" + + "Bress ye!" said Hagar, "I's 'stonished to see ye so 'cited, honey. +I'll bring de dishes in a minnit." + + The old housekeeper followed him back to the dining-room, where the +new-comer was endeavoring to interest Trafford in the account of the +day's journey, telling it in such a sprightly manner that the grim +master was betrayed into more than one smile. + + "And now, Mr. Trafford, I'm going to stay here in this dismal old +house just as long as you'll keep me," said Ned, in conclusion. "And +Noll and I are going to have tip-top good times! I don't know as +there's a thing we can have fun out of, but if there isn't, we'll +invent something. We can fish,--there's one consolation! Why, Mr. +Trafford, what does Noll do with himself, anyhow? I think he's grown +as sober as--as--I don't know what!" + + "Very likely," said Trafford, with a shadow of gloom on his face; +"this is a sober place. Noll has seen much of which you know nothing, +and it has made him graver and more thoughtful, I suppose; yet--" + + "Yet you think he's all the better for that?" said Ned, merrily. +"Well, so do I! Papa always says I'm too much of a rattle-box; but I +can't help it. I couldn't be sober, like Noll, if I should try; and +you wouldn't want me to; would you, old fellow?" + + Noll looked as if he was entirely suited, now, and secretly wondered +what Uncle Richard thought of his merry, light-hearted friend. The +days which followed were happy ones. Trafford recollected that Noll +had had a long winter of study, and granted a vacation to last during +Ned Thorn's stay; so the two boys were at liberty to fish and ramble +and explore rock and sand to their hearts' content. They gathered +basket after basket full of sea flowers and weeds of vivid dye, to be +pressed and packed for transportation to Hastings, and such quantities +of shells, with an occasional pebble of agate or carnelian, that Ned +laughingly declared,-- + + "I'll have just all the baggage the 'Gull' can float under, Noll. I'll +have to charter it to convey me and mine; for the skipper won't take +me under any other condition, you may be sure." + + And these days were merry ones too. Hagar declared, "Dat yer Thorn boy +beat eberyt'ing dis ole woman eber seed. 'Peared like ther' was more'n +forty boys racin' up an' down dem yer stairs, an' laughin' at de tops +ob ther voices. Neber seed nuffn like it, nohow! But is ye sorry, +Hagar? Ye knows ye isn't! Ye likes to hear dis yer ole house waked up +an' 'pear as ef 'twas good fur somethin' 'sides holdin' mis'ry." + + Noll more than once trembled lest Uncle Richard should be displeased +at this unusual clamor and mirthfulness, and banish Ned in anger; but +day after day passed, and Trafford made no opposition to the boys' +plans or proceedings, and apparently took quite a fancy to Noll's +friend. + + "I'd just like to coax your uncle into playing a game of ball with +us," said Ned, as the two sat on the piazza one evening at twilight; +"do you suppose he would consent?" + + "Uncle Richard play ball!" exclaimed Noll, laughing at the idea. "No! +I would almost as soon expect to see this old stone house playing at +toss and catch." + + "Well, he _is_ the strangest man!" observed Ned; "but he loves +you,--I can see that, every day,---and perhaps he'll come out as +bright as a dollar, by and by. And--do you remember?--you was to tell +me about that plan to-night. Go in, Noll dear,--I'm all attention." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +PLANS. + + + Noll looked thoughtfully on the sea a few minutes before he said, "I +don't know what you'll say, Ned, the plan is so difficult; but I've +thought of it a long time,--I believe it's been in my head every day +for the last two months,--and it seems to me it is possible. Oh! if it +_were_, I'd be the happiest boy in the land!" + + "Well, now what have you got in your head, I'd like to know?" said +Ned; "tell me quickly, for I hate long speeches, you know." + + "Well, in the first place, you must know I want to help those Culm +people, somehow. That's--" + + "Yes," interrupted Ned, "they need 'helping,' I should think! They're +the laziest, miserablest set of people I ever saw. Some of 'em need +'helping' with a good, sound punching,--'twould stir 'em up a little." + + "That's the object of the plan, and the next thing is how to do it," +continued Noll. "If papa had only lived here a little time, I know it +would have been a different place, and I want to make it what he would +have made it; but, though I can't do that, I want to do something." + + "I'll warrant you do!" said Ned, edging nearer his friend. "What do +you think Hagar has told me about your work this winter? You _are_ the +funniest fellow, and I don't see what puts such ideas in your head, +anyhow!--they never get into mine." + + "Well, I'll never get to my plan at this rate," said Noll, laughing a +bit. "I don't believe the people will ever be any cleaner or more +industrious till they have better houses to live in, and they're too +poor to buy lumber and make repairs. Now, if I could only accomplish +that, I think they'd soon have some pride in keeping their dwellings +nice and neat, and that would keep the fever away, and perhaps--I +almost _know_--they'd soon be a different people!" + + "My stars!" exclaimed Ned, "what're you thinking of? Do you really +mean that--that you're going to repair their huts for them?" + + "Yes, that is what I wish to do, and what I've been planning for," +said Noll, peering through the dusk to see how Ned received the +project; "and do you think I'll succeed?--do you think it is +possible?" + + Ned was silent a few seconds, and the low voice of the sea rose and +murmured far up and down the beach-line and died away in a faint +whisper before he replied, "Well, I _am_ astonished! and if any one +else had proposed it, I should say they were out of their wits. Now, +what are those dirty fishermen to you, Noll?" + + "That was not the question," said Noll. "Do you think I can succeed?" + + "I don't know,--can't tell,--it's all so sudden. Where will you get +the money? and why don't your Uncle Richard do the work, instead of +you?" + + "Uncle Richard? why, he--he doesn't care for the Culm people," Noll +was obliged to confess; "but as for the money, I think I can manage +that. You see, he gives me more spending-money every week than I used +to have in a whole quarter,--I showed you all my savings the other +night, you remember,--and it has got to be quite a sum. Then I have +about as much more that Mr. Gray gave me when I came away, and with +this I'll make a commencement. The--" + + "But what will your uncle say? Does he know?" queried Ned. + + "No, he knows nothing about it. But he gave me permission, a long time +ago, to aid the Culm people, and he lets me do as I choose with my +money. So doesn't my plan seem possible?" + + "Yes, if you can tell where lumber and nails and a carpenter are to +come from," said Ned. + + "Oh! but those will have to come down from Hastings, on the 'Gull,' of +course. There's nothing here to do with," said Noll; "and I mean to +coax Ben Tate to buy the lumber and hire a carpenter for me. You see, +I've got it all planned, and if it will only work!" + + "My stars!" said Ned, "I didn't know you were such a fellow. Why, I +don't wonder these fish-folks all touch their hats to you,--they can +afford to, I think. And, Noll, won't you tell me what these people are +to you? I can't see, for the life of me! And why should you spend all +your money for them?" + + Noll hesitated, not feeling certain that Ned would understand his +reason, if he told him, and, looking up at the stars, which had come +out in great fleets over the sea, was silent. But Ned got up, came to +Noll's end of the step, and, sitting down beside him, said,-- + + "Now for your reason! I'll not be put off at all. Won't you tell me?" + + "Yes, if you wish very much to know," said Noll, in a lower tone. "I +think everybody has a work to do,--a work that God gives them,--and I +think this is mine, that he has given me. And I promised always to do +his work, and I mean to do it, if I can. Besides," he added, softly +taking Ned's hand in his, "it is work that papa would do if he were +here, and I know that he, too, would be glad to have me do it. +Wouldn't you be anxious to get about it at once, and without waiting +for the Culm people to sink lower, if you thought it was your work +and waiting for your hands? Wouldn't you, Ned?" + + Noll's friend was suddenly silent. It was hardly such a reason as he +had expected to hear, and what to reply he did not know. "Noll always +was the funniest fellow ever since I knew him!" he thought to himself. + + Noll waited, and tried to look into his friend's face, and feared that +Ned did not comprehend his motives, after all. At last he said, "Don't +you understand?" + + "Oh, yes," said Ned, quickly, "but I--well--I didn't know what to say, +and, somehow, you make me ashamed. It seems too bad for you to +waste--spend, I mean--your money for those fishermen." + + "Oh, no," said Noll, "I've no need of it for myself, and if I had, +they need it more than I. And, Ned, I want to beg you to help me. +Will you?" + + "Pshaw! I'd be no help at all!" said Ned; "I'm no good at such +things." + + "But will you try?" said Noll, eagerly. + + "Yes, if you wish. But I'll be sure to bother or make a mess of +something,--see if I don't!" + + At that instant the hall door behind them opened, and Trafford stepped +out. So dark had it grown that he failed, at first, to see the two +figures on the step; but when a little stir of Ned's betrayed them, he +exclaimed, in a tone of great relief,-- + + "Ah, here you are, boys! I feared that--that you were up the shore, +perhaps. Come in, come in. Why do you sit here in the darkness?" + + "So I say!" said Ned, briskly, and not regretting this interruption; +"what _are_ we sitting here in the dark for, Noll? Let's go in!" + + As they were groping along their darksome way to the library, Ned +whispered,-- + + "When are you going to begin your plan, or 'put it in execution,' as +the books say?" + + "The skipper will touch here to-morrow; I'd like to see him then," +said Noll. + + "Why not?" returned Ned. "We can get up early and run over to Culm +before breakfast, and coax Ben into doing the business for you." + + "We will!" said Noll, gladly, "and have the work begun at once; and I +knew you'd be willing to help. Oh, Ned, I wish you were to stay here +always." + + The boys did not linger long in the library after arriving there, but +went up to Noll's chamber, where his little hoard of money was +brought forth and counted. Neither of the lads knew how far it would +go toward purchasing lumber, but to them the sum in hand seemed a +large one, and they decided, after much deliberation, to place it in +Ben's hands, and trust to his judgment and discretion. + + "But how is the carpenter to be paid for his labor, if this all goes +for lumber?" queried Ned. + + "Why, my spending-money is accumulating all the time," said Noll, "and +though that won't be enough, I'll manage to get the rest, somehow. +I'll write to Mr. Gray, or do something that will bring it." + + They were both up at the first glimmer of dawn the next morning, and +on their way to Culm long before the mist had fled from off the face +of the sea. They ran, and made all possible haste, and were only just +in time after all; for Ben was about to stand out on the day's journey +as they came panting and breathless on to the little wharf. + + "What be wantin' now, lads?" he cried, gruffly; "we be in a hurry to +get off!" + + "But you must wait a few minutes," said Ned, "for we want to come +aboard, skipper. We can't run a mile for nothing, and before breakfast +too." + + "S'pose I shall hev ter!" grumbled Ben, as he gave them each a hand to +help them up. + + Noll brought forth his roll of money, and narrated his errand, +disclosing for what object the lumber was to be purchased. Ben sat +down and stared blankly at the boy, while Mr. Snape, who had drawn +near, looked utterly bewildered. + + "Let me hear ye say that agen," said Ben, when his scattered senses +began to return; "I think I did not hear ye rightly." + + Noll repeated his errand, aided by some impatient explanations which +Ned threw in for the skipper's benefit. + + "Well," said the "Gull's" master, as he concluded, "I be beat! Why, +lad, 'tw'u'd be like throwin' yer silver into the sea to spend it on +them good-fur-nothin', shif'less critters. An' what be the like o' +them to you?" + + "Why," said Ned, coming to Noll's relief, "he want's to do them good. +Can't you see through a ladder, Ben? And what we want to know is +whether you will do the business?" + + The skipper was silent for a time. What was passing in his mind, the +boys did not suspect, and they feared lest he should refuse. But +presently he got up, saying, with gruffness which was assumed to hide +a sudden tenderness in the old sailor's heart,-- + + "I ken do't fur ye, lad, I s'pose!--tho' I call ye foolish all the +same. The 'Gull' be engaged fur the next run, but the next arter that +ye shall hev yer boards an' yer carpenter." + + "That will be week after next," said Ned. "Hurrah for you, Ben! And I +want to engage a passage home for next week. Come, Noll, let's go back +and let the skipper put out, if he's in such a hurry. A good voyage to +you, Ben!--and don't you forget that I'm to go next week, now!" + + "Ay, ay," said Ben, "get along with you!" and over the side went the +boys, and, after a little delay, off went the "Gull" with Noll's +precious savings on board. + + "Wait," said Noll, as they left the wharf, "there's Dirk Sharp out +there with his boat, ready to put off. Wait here, Ned, till I've +spoken with him." And Noll ran off across the sand. + + Ned sat down on the wharf and watched his friend and the fisherman. +They were sufficiently near for him to note the expressions upon their +faces, and when he saw the blank look of wonder and incredulity that +suddenly came over Dirk's coarse features, he suspected that Noll was +disclosing his project. + + "Oh, but Noll _is_ a queer fellow," he said to himself. "How can he +care for these dirty, dull-witted fellows that can't spell their own +names, when he is so smart and such a long, long way above them?" + + But Noll, he remembered, had answered this question on the previous +evening; yet Ned could hardly comprehend such motives, and so sat +puzzling his head over it till his friend came back with a pleased and +happy face, to say,-- + + "I'm ready now. You should have seen Dirk when I told what was going +to be done! The great fellow almost cried before I could finish; and +he's promised to aid me in a dozen ways, at least, and promised, oh! +so much besides. And it seems as if I'll be the happiest boy in the +world when once things are under way." + + "I suppose you will be," said Ned, with something like a sigh, "and +I wish I could stay and see how the huts'll look after you've done +with them. However," he added, brightly, "I can come again +sometime,--there's one consolation." + + The fair spring days went on with the speed with which all happy days +fly by, and little by little the Culm people began to talk among +themselves of the--to them--great event which was to take place so +soon. Noll overheard one old fish-wife say, "We ben't slick 'nough for +new housen; ther'll hev to be great scrubbin' an' scourin' that day, +eh, Janet?" to her slatternly daughter-in-law; and the boy mentally +prayed that this opinion would gain ground among all the fish-folk. If +there was only some one to teach the children, and save them from the +utter ignorance which was their parents', there would be great hope +for Culm, he thought. + + Ned Thorn went home, and this was the only sad day which Noll knew +during the two weeks' waiting. He could not bid Ned good-by and see +the dear, merry face fade away, as the "Gull" departed, without a +great choking in his throat and a heaviness of heart that made one day +a lonely, homesick one. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +THE WORK BEGUN. + + + You may be sure that Noll did not fail to be at Culm village when the +"Gull" and its precious freight arrived. The sky had been overcast all +day and the sea somewhat rough, so that he was not certain that Ben +would set sail from Hastings. But about half-past four in the +afternoon the white wings of the skipper's craft hovered on the +horizon, and soon after began to loom into shape and proportion. Noll +first descried the welcome sight while standing on the piazza steps, +anxiously surveying the sea and sky. A strong and vigorous breeze bore +the "Gull" rapidly before it, and it was soon evident that it would +arrive at the wharf before himself, unless he started soon. +Recitations were over an hour ago, and he was now at liberty to go +where he chose, and accordingly started for Culm at once. He arrived +there some time before Ben and his craft, after all, and was forced to +sit and wait impatiently. He could see the yellow lumber long enough +before the "Gull" was in hailing distance, and knew that Ben had been +successful. + + The skipper came alongside at last, shouting at the top of his voice, +"Ahoy, there, men! Give us a hand at this 'ere lumber, an' be spry +about it, fur there's a storm brewin', an' I've got ter be twenty mile +down the coast afore it breaks!" + + The fishermen drew near at this summons, and as soon as the "Gull" was +fast, they began to unload the cargo, under the carpenter's +directions. It was carried well up the sand to preserve it from the +dash of the sea and the treachery of the tide, and Noll stood looking +on with a heart so full of joy and satisfaction that he forgot all +about the skipper till a gruff voice cried, "Why don't ye come aboard, +lad? Here be sumat fur ye that come from the city. It be a mighty +thick letter, somehow. Give us yer hand an' come up, lad!" + + Noll got aboard quickly enough after this intelligence, and took the +packet which the skipper fished out from under his pea-jacket, +saying, "I wonder if it can be from Ned?" + + "How ken I tell?" said Ben, evasively. "Best open it, lad,--best open +it." + + Noll quickly had the envelope open, and, holding the packet upside +down, there fell out upon the deck a thick little wad of bank-notes, +which the wind threatened to take off into the sea before the boy's +astonished senses returned to him. Ben prevented such a disaster, +however, by picking up the roll and placing it in Noll's hand, with, +"It's worth savin', lad, fur 'tain't every bush that grows sech +blossoms, eh?" + + "I should think not," said Noll, still full of amazement, and +hurriedly opened his letter to see where this bounty hailed from, +while Ben walked off to assist in his craft's unlading. This is what +Noll's wondering eyes found:-- + + "HASTINGS, May 20th. + +"DEAR NOLL,--I can imagine just how your eyes are staring by this +time; but you needn't be alarmed, for I came by the money honestly. +This is how it was: Papa said I might have a new pony if I would save +my spending-money till I got a third of the sum which one would cost, +and so, though I didn't hint of it to you when I was down at Culm, +I've been laying up and laying up, like an old miser; and last Monday +morning I found that I had got the sum, and so papa made up the rest +to me. But when I thought of you and those miserable Culm people, and +how you were making a fool of yourself (as Ben T. said), I thought I'd +like to--to--well, let pony go, and help you a bit. So here's the +whole sum (if you get it safe), and you're just as welcome as you can +be, and don't you make any fuss about it, for it's your own, and I can +go without spending-money if you can, and am willing to too. And it's +no great denial, either, for the pony'll come sometime, I'm quite +sure. So don't you worry any more about how the carpenter is to be +paid. Good-by, dear old fellow, + + "NED THORN. + + "P.S.--I was just as dismal as I could be after I got home, longing to +go back to that dreary, dismal, good-for-nothing Culm Rock. The +shells, etc., got here all right. Give my respects to Uncle Richard, +and tell him I'll come down and turn his house topsy-turvy for him +again next summer, if he wants me to. Don't you forget to send a +letter back by Ben, now." + + Noll finished this characteristic letter with something very like +tears in his eyes. "The dear, generous fellow!" he thought to himself; +"how could he ever bring himself to do it? for it _is_ a denial, +because Ned is _so_ fond of a horse! And he claimed, all the time, +that he never could help at all!" + + Ben came stumping along the deck with his gruff, "Well, we hev brought +yer lumber an' yer carpenter, lad,--both on 'em the best I c'u'd find. +One's 'bout stacked up on the sand, yender, and t'other'll be waitin' +fur yer orders purty soon. He's good at his trade, John Sampson +be, an' he'll do fair an' square by ye. John ben't delicate +neither, an' won't mind the livin' he'll get 'mongst these 'ere +good-fur-nothin's,--I looked out fur that, ye see." + + "I thank you more than I can tell, Ben," said Noll, taking the +skipper's hand; "and have you taken your pay for the freight and all +the trouble?" + + "The freight be paid fur," said Ben, "an' the trouble likewise. An' ef +ye hev anythin' more fur the 'Gull' ter do, don't ye be backward, boy, +about lettin' her know't." + + The last of the lumber was now being dragged up the sand, and the +skipper hurried away, saying,-- + + "Luck ter ye an' yer undertakin', lad! We be in a desput hurry to get +off, fur we'd stan' a poor chance on this shore in a storm." + + Noll wished the skipper a safe run to a better harbor, and went back +to the wharf, where the carpenter intercepted him. He was a rough, +blunt-spoken man, but was evidently "good at his trade," as Ben had +said, and did not despair of making the Culm huts decent and +habitable; and after a long talk with him, Noll started for home, as +the afternoon was fast giving way to a gray and lowery night. His +heart was full of gratitude and love to Ned, and he stopped more than +once on his homeward walk to read the letter over by the gray glimmer +of twilight. At first he was more than half resolved to return the +money, and bid his friend to buy the pony,--it seemed such a great +denial for horse-loving, mirthful Ned to make,--but as he read the +letter again and again, and pondered over its contents, he began to +think that his friend had more earnestness and love for kind-doing +than he had ever suspected. + + "I wronged the poor fellow," he thought to himself, "because he was +so merry and careless all the time. And now he's sent me this great +roll of bills to help those people whom he pretended to hate! Oh, I +wonder if it is best to keep them?" + + This question was not decided then. It took more than one day's +thought about the matter before he at last concluded to accept Ned's +bounty, and perhaps he would not have decided thus at all if he had +been quite sure that his friend would not be greatly grieved and +offended at having the money returned. + + Meanwhile, the carpenter commenced operations. Dirk's house was the +first to undergo repairs, and Noll took every opportunity to go over +to Culm to see how matters were progressing. It was a great delight to +him to watch John Sampson at his labor, and note how saw and hammer +and plane, guided by his strong and skilful hand, repaired the rents, +brought the shackling doors and windows to comfortable tightness, made +the crooked and twisted roofs to assume something like straight and +even proportions, and righted matters generally. When Dirk's +habitation was thoroughly repaired, it was the wonder and admiration +of all the Culm people. + + "It be like what it was when I was a gal, an' all the housen was new," +said one old fish-wife, who had tottered in with the others. + + "Ay, mother," said Dirk, "an' it be time we had new habits to go with +the new housen, eh?" + + Noll had not allowed any good opportunities, wherein he might hint to +Dirk that cleanliness and industry should reign in the snug new +quarters, to pass without improving them. Dirk, out of regard and +gratitude to "the young master," as he called him, was willing to make +the attempt, and strove, in his bungling way, to impress his neighbors +with the fact that they were expected to reform their way of living. +But it was up-hill work for people who had lived all their life in +filth and wretchedness, and progressed but slowly. Many were the +hours, after the recitations were over, that Noll spent over at the +little village those warm days, planning with John Sampson about +broken doors and shattered beams, which were to be made strong and +serviceable, or, sitting on a pile of lumber, watching the carpenter +as he put in execution the plans which they had made. The children of +the village were generally playing near by, in the sand, with blocks +and chips,--growing up as unlettered and ignorant as their parents. +Some of them were great boys and girls,--almost as tall as Noll +himself,--and had never yet seen the inside of a book. + + "If Uncle Richard would only hire a teacher," thought Noll, "and have +them grow up with some knowledge in their heads, they'd never get so +low and wretched as their parents. But that never'll be, I'm afraid. +Oh! if I were only rich, how quick I'd change it all!" + + But there was no prospect of any such fortune befalling him, and he +usually turned away from the cluster of dirty, unkempt children with a +hopeless sigh. He said, one day, while sitting on a great heap of +shingles beside the carpenter,-- + + "What's to become of all these children, Mr. Sampson? Will they be +left to grow up like their fathers and mothers?" + + "Well, I don't see much to hinder," said the carpenter, with a glance +at the dirty little ones who were throwing sand over their heads. +"Don't think you'll ever see many lawyers and ministers out o' the +lot." + + "If there could only be a school here," continued Noll, "what a change +it would make! But there's no teacher, no schoolroom, no nothing, and +no prospect of there ever being anything!" + + "Why don't you teach 'em yourself?" said Sampson, between the +creakings and rasping of his saw. + + Noll was silent for a few minutes before he answered, "Why, to tell +the truth, I never had thought of the thing. But how can I? I don't +have any time till after four o'clock." + + The carpenter sawed and planed, and made no reply, being entirely +indifferent to the whole matter; but his chance question had put an +idea in Noll's head which was not out of it for that afternoon, at +least. Could he teach those idle, ignorant children? he wondered. +Would they ever sit still long enough to look in a book? And where +could a room for the school be found? And where was the leisure time +to come from? Noll pondered over these questions many days, and +several times came near discarding the plan as impracticable. He knew +that he could only have the time after recitations were over for his +own, and that, at the most, would be only an hour or two,--the time +between four o'clock and the supper-hour. He was quite sure that he +was willing to give this time to the Culm children, if it would do any +good, and if a room could be found for them to assemble in. A whole +week of days went by before he mentioned this plan to any one, and +then it was only Dirk to whom he mentioned it. The rough fisherman +looked upon reading and writing as some of the wonderful and +mysterious arts to which dull and humble people like himself had no +right. He looked blank and mystified at Noll's proposition, and +expressed himself thus:-- + + "I don' know, I don' know, lad,--we but poor folk anyway. But ye ken +do as ye like, an' ef ye say so, the youngsters shall take ter books +an' sech, an' ye ken hev a room where ye say, I'll say fur't. I don' +know, I don' know, lad; ye mus' do as ye think it best, anyway." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE WORK PROGRESSING. + + + Studies at home progressed steadily under Uncle Richard's supervision, +meanwhile, and that grim gentleman found much more pleasure and +satisfaction in directing his nephew's tasks than he would have been +willing to acknowledge. The boy brought so much brightness and +pleasant life into the gloomy stone house that the stern master, as +week after week passed by, visibly began to lose something of his +grimness and gloominess, and to take something like a faint interest +in what was passing around him. And, after a time, he himself began to +be sensible of this gradual change which was stealing over his +thoughts and actions, and, vexed with himself, strove to check these +new emotions, and wrap himself again in the cloak of sadness and +melancholy which so long had shielded him from everything bright and +cheerful and happy. But he found it hardly an easy task. Noll was +almost always blithe and light-hearted, and Trafford found his bright +influence a hard one to struggle against. He loved the boy so well +that it was almost an impossibility to harden his heart to all his +winning ways and pleasant talk, which met him so constantly, and +these summer days, which Noll found such delight in, were days of +struggle and wavering to his uncle. He could not but acknowledge to +himself that he was interested in all the boy's plans for the +future,--all his youthful anticipations of happiness and success,--all +his present little projects for progress and self-improvement,--and +these matters, trivial though they may have been, gradually drew his +thoughts from himself and his sorrow, put them farther and farther +away into the dimness and silence of the past, and made the present a +more vivid and earnest reality. Was it any wonder that, seeing he +could not maintain his gloom and grimness in Noll's sunshine, and +finding it slipping away from him in spite of his endeavors to retain +it, he should astonish his nephew by strange fits of moroseness, +alternating with the utmost kindness and indulgence? + + The boy sometimes fancied that his uncle had grown to utterly dislike +him,--being so irritable and unjust at times; then again his heart was +light with joy and hope, for he fancied that the grim man was just on +the point of losing his great burden of gloom, and becoming hopeful +and unoppressed. But how could he be hopeful for whom there was no +hope?--who refused to trust in God's promises?--for whom the shadow of +the grave was utter darkness and horror, wherein dear faces had +vanished--forever? + + One day Noll had begged him to come out for a walk on the beach, +thinking he would lead his uncle on and on till they should come out +upon Culm village, and in this manner disclose what he had been doing +for the dwellings and their inmates. + + Trafford at first appeared inclined to consent, and followed his +nephew out as far as the piazza steps, but here he stopped, and all +Noll's entreaties could not prevail upon him to go further. He sat +down, looking dispiritedly across the tranquil sea, all warm and fair +with changing lights, and down at his feet at the bit of verdure which +Noll had caused to flourish by dint of much seed-sowing and watering, +saying, "No, I've no part in it all. I'll go no further." + + So Noll was obliged to set off for Culm alone, consoling himself with +the thought that next time, perhaps, he should be so successful as to +get Uncle Richard a little farther, and next time a little way farther +still, till, at last, they might walk together as uncle and nephew +should. Would that happy day ever come? he wondered. + + At last, after many delays and hindrances, the plan of a school was +decided upon. Noll did not begin the undertaking with much confidence +of success, or with any great hope of making the Culm children very +bright or vigorous scholars; but it would be something toward +supplying the great want, he thought, and who could tell what this +little beginning might lead to? So, about half-past four one misty, +lowery afternoon, he found himself in a little room in Dirk's +dwelling, with ten dirty-faced, frowsy-headed children huddled +together in one corner, each of them regarding him with wide-open +eyes, and apparently without the remotest idea what they were there +for. The only furniture which the "schoolroom" could boast were two +rough benches, just from John Sampson's hands, and a three-legged +stool, which Noll appropriated to himself. Of course none of the ten +had anything in the shape of books or primers, and here the boy had +reason to rejoice that all his old school-books had made the journey +with himself to Culm. + + After getting the wondering assemblage seated in proper order, Noll +began by asking, "Who wants to learn to read?" + + It seemed as if the sound of his voice had wrought a spell, for each +of the ten were as silent as so many mutes. + + "Who would like to know how to read?" Noll repeated. + + Still a long silence, most discouraging to the teacher. At last--the +sound of his voice a most welcome one to Noll--a little fellow, who +sat on the end of one of the benches, ventured to query, "What be +'read'?" + + "Well," thought the would-be teacher, "I've got to explain what 'read' +is before they'll know whether they fancy it, to be sure! I didn't +think of that." + + Among his books was a great primer, with painted letters and pictures, +and bringing this forth, he gathered the ten around him, and used all +his powers of description and story-telling to endeavor to awaken the +slumbering interest of these unpromising pupils. It was a weary hour's +work. A few of them betrayed a slight curiosity in regard to the +bright colors, which Noll endeavored to stimulate; but it soon died +out, and all looked on and listened with listless attention. They +appeared much more inclined to stand with their fingers in their +mouths, and gaze steadfastly into Noll's face, than to put eyes on the +book. + + "If I had the alphabet stamped upon my face, I believe they'd learn +it easily enough!" he thought to himself, in despair, as, on looking +up, he found the whole ten staring in his face, instead of having had +their eyes upon the primer during his long explanation. As a last +resort, he stepped out upon the sand in front of the door, and there +drew a great A. + + "Now," said he, "see which of you can make a letter like that. Take a +stick and try, every one of you. Look sharp, and make it just like the +one I've made." + + Thereupon, there was a great searching for sticks, and when all the +little ones had been supplied, there was a great scratching and +marking in the sand. To Noll's great delight, the result was two or +three tolerable A's, which were allowed to stand, and the rest were +brushed away. Then a new attempt at making the wonderful symbol +ensued, and added another to the successful list, and so the +letter-making was kept up till all the pupils had succeeded in making +a tolerably faithful representation of the letter. Noll began to take +heart. What the children cared nothing for, when seen in the book, +they were apparently delighted to draw on the sand, and soon learned +to give the proper pronunciation of the character. The night came on +apace, and Noll began to perceive that it was time for him to be on +his homeward way. + + "Remember," he said to his pupils, who were scratching A's all about +the door, "you're not to forget this while I'm gone. To-morrow +afternoon I'll come again, and then I shall want to see you make it +over, and you are to have a new letter, besides. Will you all be +here?" + + "Yes! yes!" one after another promised; and, once more bidding them +remember, Noll walked away,--the children still making the mysterious +character along the beach, and keeping it up till darkness came over +sea and land. + + "Only one letter!" Noll said to himself, as he hurried homeward. "Why, +that's not a tenth of what I meant to do this afternoon! What dull +wits they've got! and will they ever, ever learn the whole alphabet?" +The prospect did not seem very encouraging, and he was obliged to +confess himself disappointed with the result of the first day's +lesson. "However, one can't tell much by the first afternoon," he +thought. "Perhaps they'll be quicker and brighter when we're better +acquainted." + + The next afternoon he arrived at Dirk's house at the appointed time, +and found not ten, but twelve awaiting him, sticks in hand, and all +eager for the lesson to commence. Noll could not refrain from laughing +at the sight which the sand directly in front of the house presented, +covered as it was with A's of all shapes and sizes. It looked much as +if a great bird, with a peculiarly-constructed foot, had been walking +there. He did not need to be assured that his pupils had all +remembered yesterday's lesson, and proceeded at once to instruct them +in the art of making B. This the young learners of the alphabet found +to be somewhat more difficult of execution, but appeared to like it +none the less on that account, and, after its curves were mastered, +were much delighted with this acquisition to their stock of +accomplishments. + + While this second lesson was yet in progress, Dirk and one or two +other fishermen came up from their boats, and stopped to look on, with +wonder and astonishment written on their countenances. + + "I don' know," said Dirk, shaking his head as he eyed the mystic +characters traced before him; "we be all poor folk, anyhow, an' this +do beat me! Why, what be this?" he exclaimed, pointing at a letter +staring up at him from the sand at his feet. + + "That be A!" said half a dozen voices at once. + + "An' what be this?" said Hark Darby, pointing to a character by his +feet. + + "That be B!" chorused the voices again. + + The two fishermen exchanged wondering glances. "That do beat me!" said +poor Dirk, regarding the letters before him with much awe. "Ah, lad," +turning to Noll, "my little gal w'u'd liked yer teaching, an' yer B's +an' A's, eh?" and Dirk drew his hand across his eyes. + + Noll went home much encouraged after this second alphabet lesson. Time +and patience would do something for these Culm children, after all, he +thought. And could he have the patience and skill which was necessary? +"I'll try,--I'll try hard for it!" he thought, "and pray Christ to +keep me from losing my patience and courage. It's his work, and he'll +help me to teach them, and by winter there'll be something +accomplished." And of his help he had great need, for patience and +courage were often sorely tried in the days which followed, and it was +not always his pupils' obtuseness which brought the greatest strain to +bear upon them. One old fish-wife, the oldest woman in the village, +had regarded the whole plan of teaching the children as suspicious and +ill-omened. + + "It be a bad day fur us, lads," she warned, standing on Dirk's +door-step among the fishermen, and looking frowningly upon Noll as he +instructed his pupils in the making of U. "It be no good fur yer chile +to be ther', Hark Darby, learnin' ye don' know what! Yes, lads, I say +it be an evil day, and ye'll find no good cum from it! I warn ye, I +warn ye!" shaking her skinny forefinger and solemnly nodding her head. +Noll's face flushed at these words, and he half resolved to go home, +and leave these Culm children to their parents' ignorance. + + "I warn ye! I--" The old crone was about to continue her forebodings; +but Dirk interposed with a gruff, "Hush ye, hush ye, Mother Deb! ye +be doin' the lad wrong. D'ye think he be one to teach our young uns +wrong, eh? Be it evil, think ye? W'u'd he be doin' us a bad turn who's +mendin' the housen an' makin' us comf'table? I'd like ye ter show't, +mother, ef it be!" + + "Ay," said Hark Darby, "an' ef he ken do us evil, who ha' been so good +an' kind in the sickness, we w'u'd like ye ter show't, Mother Deb!" + + The old woman said no more, but went muttering homeward, not all +convinced that Noll was not teaching the children some evil, +mysterious art. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE WORK FINISHED. + + + The days went by,--busy enough for Noll with lessons and the afternoon +lesson at Culm,--and John Sampson's labors began to draw to a close. +The carpenter had worked steadily and faithfully, and the result was a +gratifying one to more than one person. True, the houses were not +models of elegance; that was not needed; and they _did_ look somewhat +patchy, with here and there a fresh new board over the old +weather-beaten gray of the dwelling, and new doors staring blank and +yellow out of the dinginess of their surroundings; but, if they were +not handsome, they were thoroughly repaired and now stood warmer and +more comfortable than any of the present generation of Culm people had +ever known them. + + If they could only have a coat of paint or whitewash to make them look +fresh and cheerful, what an improvement it would be! Noll thought. How +the sun would gleam upon them with his last ruddy rays as he sank into +the sea! How fair and pleasant they would look from the sea, when the +coast first came upon the mariner's vision! It would be one bright +spot against the black background of the Rock,--those twelve +houses,--if only they might have a coat of fresh white paint. But +after counting his stock of money, this desire was obliged to remain +ungratified; for there was the carpenter's bill, which would shortly +be due, and must be paid upon the completion of the work. + + "The houses must wait till--till another year," Noll thought, with +something like a sigh; "they can wait, after all, for the painting +isn't really necessary, though it would improve them wonderfully! And +I'm thankful enough that I can pay the carpenter. Oh, but I wonder if +Ned ever regrets his denial, and longs for the pony?" + + Letters came down from Ned Thorn with almost every trip of the "Gull," +but not a word about the pony did they contain, nor the least sentence +which Noll could interpret to mean a sigh or regret for the pet which +he had given up. If Ned felt any regret, it was all carefully hidden +from his friend's observation, and the missives, which Noll received +through the skipper's kindness, were fairly bubbling over with the +briskness and bright spirits of Ned's light heart. + + "If they should stop coming, I don't know how I _could_ manage," +thought Noll; "I'm afraid Culm Rock would grow dreadfully lonesome and +dreary." It was always, "And how do you get on with your plan?--and +are the houses 'most finished?" or, "Have you got those Culm savages +almost civilized, you dear old Noll?--and does Uncle Richard know +anything about it yet? Won't he stare! and what do you suppose he'll +say?" or, "Oh, now I think of it, how many scholars in Latin have you +got down there? and how do they manage with their Greek? And are you +putting on airs because you've got to be a pedagogue? And how much is +the tuition a term?--because, you see, I've some idea of going away to +boarding-school, and yours might suit me, if the charges aren't too +high." And the whole generally concluded with, "P. S.--I don't mean a +word of all that last I've written, my dear Noll, and you're not to +think so. How does the money hold out? Don't fail to let me know if +you're in a tight place, and I'll try to get a few dollars somehow. +And hurry up and answer this letter by return steamer (what should we +do if the old 'Gull' went to the bottom?), and so good-night," etc., +etc. + + Perhaps Noll expected a great deal too much of the Culm people when he +looked to see them give up their filthy and slovenly habits at once, +after getting fairly settled again in their whole and comfortable +abodes. If he really expected to see this, he was disappointed. People +do not follow a habit for the best part of a lifetime, to give it up +suddenly and at once, even when gratitude and a sense of their +short-coming are both urging them to do so. So he was obliged to +content himself with some few faint evidences of thrift, and a desire +to do better, on the part of those whom he had befriended, and wait +patiently for the rest. + + Dirk's household improved somewhat. Dirk was the most intelligent of +the fishermen, and began to dimly perceive that it was much better and +pleasanter to live cleanly and neatly than to pattern his household +arrangements after the beasts of the field. He was, moreover, strongly +actuated to reform his way of living by his deep, strong sense of +gratitude to Noll, which led him to endeavor to accomplish whatever +the boy suggested. It gave the stalwart fisherman something like a +feeling of shame to see the lad--bright, fresh, and ruddy--enter his +dirty and smoke-begrimed hovel and hardly be able to find himself a +seat among the litter of old nets, broken chairs, household utensils, +and all conceivable kinds of rubbish which strewed the floors and +filled the corners. + + "It be a shame," Dirk said to his wife, after Noll had gone, one day, +"that the lad hev ter stan' up, an' ben't able ter find a seat, nohow. +I tell ye it be a shame, woman!" + + "Ye might mend the chairs a bit, man!" retorted Mrs. Sharp. "I'll +warrant the lad be able ter find a seat then." + + Dirk was sulky for a while after this, but saw that there could be +nothing to sit upon so long as the chairs were for the most part +legless, and at last got energy enough to mend them after a rude +fashion. Then another place was found for the old nets besides the two +corners by the fireplace, and when these had been removed, Mrs. Sharp +took her broom and--well, it was not exactly sweeping, for the woman +had not much idea of what a good housekeeper would call sweeping, but +it was a feeble attempt at cleanliness, and she really thought she had +made a great exertion, and was certainly proud of the achievement. +Dirk chanced to be at home when Noll came again, and the flash of +surprise and pleasure which swept over the boy's face as he entered +and noted the change which had taken place since his last call pleased +Dirk amazingly. + + "Here be a seat fur ye, lad," he said, not without some pride in his +tone, as he brought forward a rough three-legged block and placed it +for his visitor. A faint stir of worthy ambition having slightly +roused Dirk and his wife, they were hardly contented to allow matters +to remain as they were. Mrs. Sharp once more took her broom, and used +it with rather better effect. Dirk made an onslaught upon the rubbish +which had been collecting in their kitchen and about the doorsteps for +years, and which no one had had the energy to remove, and threw many a +basketful into the sea. + + The neighbors, meanwhile, were not entirely insensible to the fact +that Dirk's house began to present--both within and without--a much +more cleanly and respectable appearance than their own. They stopped +at the door to look in and say, "La, ye be slickin' up finely, Dirk!" +or, "Ye be gittin' fine ways, lately, man. An' what be all this fur?" + + "Why," Dirk would answer, "I be 'shamed of livin' like a beast, man. +An' the young master be wishin' us to hev cleaner housen an' slicker, +an' I be willin' to do't ef he wish, now! He be a good lad to mend our +housen so finely, and w'u'd ye think I ben't willin' to do his wish?" + + Noll was greatly encouraged at these signs of improvement, and +mentally rejoiced, hoping to see this new ambition spread till the +whole twelve houses were reclaimed from their present filth and +wretchedness. + + The carpenter's work came to an end at last,--his labor all plain and +visible to every eye in patched walls, roofs, mended doors and +windows, and the general look of repair about the whole line of what +were once but the poorest of shelters. Sampson's task had been a hard +and bothersome one,--"Couldn't ha' got another man to teched it," the +skipper said,--and Noll expected, as he walked around to Culm one +afternoon with his roll of bills to pay the carpenter, that the bill +would be a large one,--perhaps even more than Ned's generous bounty +and his own amount of spending-money, saved since the lumber was +purchased, could meet. He found Sampson packing up his tools,--he was +to leave on the "Gull" the next morning,--with the bill all ready, +added up and written out on a bit of smooth shingle. It proved to be +five dollars less than the sum which Noll held in his hand. + + "I swun!" said Sampson, roughly, as he counted over the bills which +the boy placed in his hands, "I told the skipper, comin' down, that +you was a born fool to be layin' out your money in this style. Now, +I've been thinkin' on't over all the while I've been hammerin' and +sawin', and I can't make out, to save my neck, how you're goin' to get +any return from this 'ere investment. 'Tain't payin' property, I +should judge," said the carpenter, looking up and down the beach. + + "Of course I don't expect to get any money back from it," said Noll, +laughing a little at the idea. "It was to help these fish-folk and to +try and make them more comfortable that I did it." + + Sampson put the roll of bills away in his capacious purse, remarking, +"Well, you're a queer un. I did the job right well, though, if I do +say it, and I ha'n't charged very steep for it, neither. Couldn't do +it, somehow!--went too much against the grain. And--well, can't you +shake hands over it? You're a tip-top paymaster, and if you want +anything done, I'll come and do it, if I'm in China--there! Don't you +lay out another cent on this settlement, though,--'tain't worth it." + + Noll did not promise to take this advice, and started homeward, +Sampson calling after him, "Good-by, good-by, lad! Hope you'll get +some return from this 'ere investment!" + + So the work was done, and a glad and happy letter went over the sea to +Hastings, telling Ned Thorn that the labor was accomplished, and the +houses all as whole and comfortable as when new, and that the people +were actually beginning to show a little thrift and ambition; and +saying, among other things, "I send you back five dollars that were +left,--so you can begin to save your money again for that pony. And, +oh! Ned, I don't think you can know how much good that money did! +Perhaps you never will know (it must seem to you almost like throwing +it away, because you are where you cannot see any result from it), and +I felt, at first, as if you ought not to make the denial; but, +somehow, I'm very glad, now, and I shall always feel sure that if you +_do_ make fun and pretend to laugh at a plan, you're all the time +meaning to 'give it a lift,' as you say. And, oh! Ned, I believe I'm +one of the happiest boys in the world! and I'm sure Uncle Richard has +changed a great deal since last spring, when you were here, for he's +got over being cross and gloomy, and actually asked me yesterday +where I spent so much of my time. I'm going, if I can, to persuade him +to take a walk with me, one of these afternoons, and so bring him +around to the new houses. Wouldn't you like to be here to see us then? +As for my school, it flourishes a little. There are still twelve +scholars, and all but four have got through with their sand letters, +and are at work at their 'a-b, ab,' and 'b-a, ba.' They'll get into +spelling-books, sometime. Now, I'll end this long letter with telling +you once more that you can't know how much good your money has done +and will do, and say, + + Good-night, "NOLL TRAFFORD." + + + Noll did not lose sight for a moment of his plan to persuade Uncle +Richard to take a walk with him. It filled his thoughts all the +pleasant days that followed after Mr. Sampson's departure, and several +times he hinted very broadly to his uncle that it was "a splendid +afternoon for a walk! the beach is hard as a floor, and the tide out." +But Trafford was oblivious to all hints, and at last, on one warm, +balmy, cloudless afternoon, Noll thought, "It is now, or never! I'll +ask him at once." And straightway he started for the library, where he +knew his uncle sat reading. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +A HAPPY WALK. + + + Trafford looked up from his books as his nephew entered, and greeted +him with a smile. Noll thought this welcome portended good, and +remembered, with a grateful thrill in his heart, that Uncle Richard +had fallen into the habit of greeting him thus of late. He went up to +the reader's chair, and without waiting for his courage to cool, laid +a hand on the reader's arm, saying,-- + + "Uncle Richard, I've come to ask a great favor of you. Do you think +you'll grant it? Can't you guess what it is?" + + Trafford did not reply at once, but sat looking steadfastly into his +nephew's face, his eyes wearing the dreamy, far-away look which +lingered in them much of late, and it was not until Noll had repeated +his question that he replied, musingly,-- + + "I'm sure I cannot think. Perhaps you wish more pocket-money, or--" + + "Oh, no!" answered the boy, quickly, "it's nothing like that, Uncle +Richard! It's--it's--oh, it's will you take a walk?" + + Trafford's forehead began to wrinkle and slowly gather the shade of +gloom which seemed always hovering about him, even in his most +cheerful moments; but before it had time to cover the man's brow, and +before he could utter a refusal, Noll's hand was endeavoring to +smooth away the wrinkles, and he was saying,-- + + "There, don't say 'No,'--don't, Uncle Richard! I won't ask you to go +again if you are not pleased with this walk, but _this_ time--just +_this_ once--do say 'Yes,' uncle! There can't be a pleasanter +afternoon in the whole year than this, and I've walked alone, always +till now. Why, Uncle Richard, you won't say 'No' _this_ time?" + + Trafford hesitated, a refusal trembling on his lips, which he did not +quite wish to utter. The boy _had_ walked alone, he remembered, and it +was a very simple request to grant; and if it was going to be such a +pleasure and gratification to Noll, why not yield, and for once put +aside his own preferences and inclinations? It is not an easy matter +for a man who has lived only for himself and his own pleasure to put +the gratification of these aside to give place to the happiness and +comfort of another; but, with an effort, Trafford put his books away, +and rose from his chair, saying,-- + + "This once, Noll,--this once. One walk with me will suffice you, I +think. When shall we start?" + + "Now,--at once, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, joyfully; "it's two o'clock +already, and the tide a long, long way out. Don't let's wait a minute +longer." + + Trafford smiled a little at his nephew's eagerness, and taking his +hat, followed the boy to the piazza. It was a great change from the +half-gloom of the library, and the chilliness of the long, dark halls, +to the bright, sunny piazza, where the light fell so warm and broadly, +and from whence the blue and shining sea stretched far and wide and +vast. + + Noll felt sure that Uncle Richard must notice it and rejoice, even +though it might be secretly. From east to west there were no clouds, +and nothing to hinder the sunbeams from finding the earth and working +wondrous charms on land and rock and sea. They stood for a few minutes +there, one of them, at least, enjoying the wide view very much, then +Noll said,-- + + "We'll go up the shore, if you'd as lief, Uncle Richard. It's much +pleasanter that way, I think." + + "Very well," said Trafford, with an indifference which was not +encouraging, and they passed down the steps on to the sand. It was a +silent and uncomfortable walk for the first few rods, Trafford walking +with his head bowed upon his breast and looking only at the yellow +sand upon which he trod. He seemed to have no eyes for the calm and +gentle peace which had descended upon that afternoon, robbing the sea +of its terror and making it enchanting and lovely, and weaving a +mystic charm about the bare, bald Rock basking warm and purple under +the sun. Even the waves murmured only softly and soothingly and with +drowsy echoes, as they rippled in and out among the rocks and along +the sand. Fortunately for their pleasure, Noll picked up a curious +pebble before they had gone a great way. It was not an agate, nor was +it like the rounded pebbles of porphyry which the tide washed up, and +puzzling over this, and asking Uncle Richard, at last, to explain its +nature, somehow broke the heavy silence which had been between them, +and questions and pleasant talk came naturally enough after this. + + Trafford lost his gloom and reserve, and followed after his nephew, +chatting and explaining strange matters of rock and sea, and stopping +now and then to pull over great bunches of freshly-stranded kelp to +help Noll search for rare shells or bits of scarlet or purple weed +which were hidden and entangled there. How brightly shone the sun! +What peace and calm hovered over land and sea! He was just beginning +to be conscious of the joy and loveliness which the afternoon held. It +was no wonder, he thought, that Noll's blithe, unclouded heart loved +such a pleasant earth, and found delight in all the hours which +flitted by. But for himself, alas! all this brightness was clouded +over by the ever-present, ever-shadowing darkness of the future. It +might have been different if--if--But with a sigh Trafford put away +these thoughts, and followed on. They lingered around the rocks in +their path, black with fringes of dry sea-weed, and talked of gneiss +and sienite, granite and trap; they stopped at the curve in the shore, +and sat down to watch the white flitting of sails on the far +horizon-line, and somehow, the sight of them led to a long talk about +Hastings and Noll's papa, and happy memories of other days. Trafford +was in a softened mood as they rose up from their seat on a great +fragment which had fallen from the cliff above, and Noll said,-- + + "Come, Uncle Richard, let's keep on toward Culm. It's _so_ pleasant, +and night is a long way off yet." + + If he had followed his own inclinations, the uncle would have turned +about and retraced his steps, but Noll had started on, and Trafford +followed, thinking, "It isn't often the boy has company in his +rambles. I can humor him for once." + + Slowly enough they approached the Culm houses, loitering along the +moist, shining sand, over which the waves had rolled and rippled but a +few hours before, and marking their devious path with straying +footprints. Noll's heart began to beat somewhat faster as they neared +the fishermen's houses, and he kept a keen watch upon his uncle's face +in order to detect the first look of surprise and astonishment that +should come across it when he perceived how the huts had been +improved. But Trafford's eyes were turned toward the sea, thoughtfully +and gravely, and they drew very near the village without the discovery +being made. They came upon Dirk, Hark Darby, and two or three other +fishermen, spreading their nets in the sun, all of whom touched their +hats and nodded respectfully to Noll, eying the uncle, meanwhile, with +curious eyes and half-averted faces. The sight of these men brought +Trafford's eyes and thoughts back to Culm and the present. He turned +to Noll, saying, with a little smile,-- + + "Some of your sworn friends?" + + "Yes, they're my friends, Uncle Richard," said Noll, expecting every +moment to see Trafford raise his eyes to the houses, which they were +passing, "and they do me a great many favors too." + + "In what way?" Trafford was about to ask; but just then he looked up +and about him, and the words died on his lips. Noll paused, waiting in +suspense for what was to come next. His uncle stood still, and looked +for a full minute upon Dirk's house, then cast his eyes up and down +the line of dwellings, while a look of wonder and amazement came over +his face. He turned about, and looked at Noll, who could not, for the +life of him, keep the bright color from creeping up into his cheeks +and over his forehead, and then he looked at the houses again. A +sudden suspicion came into Trafford's mind, and turning his keen eyes +upon Noll, he exclaimed,-- + + "Can you explain this?" + + The nephew hesitated, looked down in some embarrassment, then +gathering sudden courage, looked up and answered, brightly, "Yes, +Uncle Richard, I know all about it." + + It was all plain to Trafford then. For a moment his own eyes faltered +and refused to meet Noll's, and he showed some signs of emotion. But +his voice and tone were as calm as ever when he said, a few minutes +after,-- + + "_You_ did this? How can I believe it? What had you to do with? And +why was I not consulted, if this was your work?" + + "Oh, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, quickly, "don't be vexed with me. You +gave me permission to help these Culm people. Don't you remember?" + + Trafford made no reply, and again looked at the line of comfortable, +well-repaired houses. There were deeper thoughts and emotions in his +heart at that moment than Noll could know or guess. + + The long silence was so uncomfortable that the boy was fain to break +it, with, "I've one more thing to show you, Uncle Richard. It's not +much,--only just a beginning,--but I'd like you to see and know about +it." + + Trafford followed, without a word, and Noll led the way to the little +schoolroom, with its two benches and three-legged stool and pile of +well-thumbed primers and spelling-books. + + "It's not much," said Noll, apologetically, "but it's a beginning, and +they all know their letters, and some can spell a little." + + Trafford evinced no surprise, much to Noll's wonder, and merely asked, +"Where do you find the time?" + + "After recitations," replied the nephew; and that was all that was +said about the matter. + + Trafford went out and sat down on the little wharf, and Noll lingered +in the doorway of his schoolroom, thinking that he had never seen +Uncle Richard act more strangely. Was he offended at what he had done +and was doing for the Culm people? he wondered. He looked out and saw +that his uncle had turned his face away, and was looking off upon the +sea with the same dreamy, thoughtful look which he had noticed in his +eyes of late. Noll would have given a great deal could he have known +his thoughts at that moment. To human eyes this grave and thoughtful +man, who sat on the wharf, was not a whit less the stern and gloomy +creature that he had been an hour before. Yet, all hidden from others' +gaze, and almost from his own consciousness, a sudden sense of regret +and of a great short-coming in himself had welled up through the crust +of his hardened heart. His heart had been deeply stirred, and now it +smote him. His thoughts took some such shape as this,--even while he +was looking with such apparent calmness upon the changing, shadowy +lights of the sea:-- + + "This boy has done more in this short summer for his fellow-men and +for his God than I have done in my whole forty years of life! Oh, what +a life mine has been!--all a wreck, a failure, a miserable waste! And +he? Why, in this short summer-time, and on this barren Rock, he has +made his very life a blessing to every one upon it. I suppose those +dirty, ignorant fishermen bless the day that brought him here. And I? +O Heaven! what a failure, what a failure! I've done the world no +good,--it's no better for my having lived in it,--it would miss me no +more than one of these useless pebbles which I cast into the sea. And +this boy--_my_ boy--always at work to make others rejoice that he was +born into the world!" + + For all the calmness and repose that was on his face, he longed to cry +out. Oh! was there no deliverance? Might not these long wasted years +yet be paid for by deeds of mercy and charity? But where was there a +deliverer? and who could tell how many years of good deeds and charity +could pay for forty years of wasted ones? + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +NEW THOUGHTS AND NEW PLANS. + + + Noll, sitting in the doorway, was presently aroused from a little +reverie into which he had fallen by hearing a voice call, "Noll, my +boy, come here." He obeyed the call, and started for the little wharf, +half expecting that Uncle Richard was about to reprove him for what he +had done. Trafford gazed in his nephew's face for a short space, and +then, smothering what his heart longed to cry out, and what he had +intended to say to the boy, he sighed only, "We will start homeward, +if you are ready." + + Noll was sure that his uncle had kept back something which it was in +his heart to say, and, wondering what it could be, he followed after +the tall figure along the homeward path. + + The sun was getting well down into the west. The fair clearness of the +sky was broken by a soft, mellow haze which began to steal across it, +yet the afternoon was no less beautiful, and along the horizon there +were long and lovely trails of misty color,--faint, delicate flushes +of amber and purple,--which gave an added charm to the day's +declining. + + Not a word did uncle and nephew speak till, as they rounded the curve +of the shore, and the stone house came in sight, Trafford asked, +abruptly, "Noll, where did your pocket-money go?" + + The boy explained the whole matter, with an account of Ned Thorn's +bounty and help, at the last, and then they paced along the sand in +silence, as before. Noll managed to get many looks at his uncle's +face, and seeing that it wore no stern nor forbidding aspect, ventured +to ask,-- + + "Are you offended with me, or what, Uncle Richard?" + + Trafford took his nephew's hand as he replied, "Not in the least, +Noll." + + His voice was strangely kind and tender, and Noll exclaimed, looking +up joyfully and brightly, "I'm very glad, Uncle Richard! and do you +know your voice sounded like papa's just now?" + + They walked hand in hand along the shore,--Noll, at least, very +happy,--and looking afar at the sea through glad and hopeful eyes. He +mentally prayed that Uncle Richard's gloom and sternness might never +return, and that he might always be in his present softened and +subdued mood. They came to the stone house at last, and, as they +reached the steps, Noll took one long look at his uncle's face, +thinking to himself that not soon again should he see it so gentle and +tender, for the gloom of the library would soon shadow it, and make it +once more stern and forbidding. But, just as if he felt something of +this himself, Trafford lingered on the steps, as if loath to go in, +and at last sat down. Noll inwardly rejoiced, and seated himself on +the bit of green which he had caused to grow, by much watering and +nourishing, close beside the piazza. That little breadth of grass, +with its deep verdure, was a wonderfully pleasant thing for the eyes +to rest upon in this waste of rock and sand. Trafford looked down at +it and at the boy sitting there,--his curly locks blown all about his +face by the warm wind,--and thought to himself, that, wherever the lad +went, brightness and pleasantness sprang up about him, even though the +soil was naught but sand and barrenness. His heart was full of +reproachful cries. "What this boy has done,--and _I_!" was a thought +continually haunting him. And he did not try to put it away; but, as +he sat there, went back over all the months of the lad's stay, +remembering what he had done to brighten the old stone house and +himself, and contrasting all the boy's actions and motives with his +own,--sparing himself not at all in the condemnation which his own +heart was ready to pronounce. "What this boy has done,--and _I_! I? +Nothing, nothing! The earth will never miss me, for I have had no part +in its life, and have cared naught for its joys or its sorrows; and +beyond--where this boy's heaven lies--there will be no place for me, +because I have not sought it, and have cared only for my own peace. So +I have no part nor place in the world or out of it." A more vivid +sense of this truth came to Trafford here, and he sighed long and +heavily, thinking of what might have been. He saw and felt what a +great matter it was to have a heart wherein God's love dwelt so +steadfastly that eye nor ear could ever be closed against the wants of +his creatures, and the work of his that lay waiting for the doing. And +it was another matter to have a heart so cold and frozen that no +warmth of his love ever thrilled it with pity or compassion,--ever +drew it with tender, gentle guidance toward himself,--ever stirred it +with longings for his love and his blessing and upholding. It was no +wonder, he thought, that for one heart the earth was joyous and +beautiful, while for the other it was but a gloomy, unhappy waste; for +over the pure, warm heart's earth God reigned, and his sunshine +lighted it, and his flowers blossomed by the wayside, and they who +lived in the land were his own, and their needs the needs of his +children. All doing was but doing for God, while in a cold, frozen +heart his work is not remembered, and the sunshine is but gloom, +because it does not come from him, and the flowers are not his, and +the poor soul mourns and sorrows, wrapped up in its own darkness and +chilliness, and fails to find the earth bright or beautiful. + + With such thoughts as these in his heart, Trafford was silent a long +time. The sun set, and shadows began to steal over the sea, gradually +and softly wrapping its farther distances in hazy indistinctness. +Hagar's voice, from the kitchen-door, where she was calling her +chickens to their supper, floated around to his ears and awoke him +from his long and sorrowful reverie. He started up, surprised to see +how fast the light had flitted from sky and earth. Noll still sat on +the bit of grass, busy over a heap of shells and pebbles, which he had +gathered during his afternoon walk. Trafford looked at him a few +minutes in silence, and finally asked,-- + + "What plans have you made for winter about your school, my boy?" + + A sudden look of surprise flitted over the boy's face ere he answered, +"I haven't made any, Uncle Richard. I can't, you see, because the days +will be so short that I'm afraid there'll not be time after my +recitations. And there's no stove nor fireplace in the room, and not +much of anything comfortable. But I'm going to try, though," he added, +hopefully. + + Trafford was silent and thoughtful for a long time. At last he said, +"What would you say if I forbade you to continue your school through +the winter?" + + "I don't think you'll say that, Uncle Richard," said Noll,--not very +confidently, however. "I should be very sorry to give it up now." + + "Even if I thought it best?" + + Noll could not deny but that he should. "They're just beginning to +learn," he said, "and it would be too bad for them to lose all they have +gained. Don't you really think so, too, Uncle Richard?" + +[Illustration: Culm Rock.] + + Trafford made no reply to this question, but, when he spoke again, +said, "Not even if another teacher filled your place, Noll?" + + The boy's tongue was silent with wonder and astonishment. Then, +thinking his ears had deceived him, he said, "Why--why--what did you +say, Uncle Richard?" + + "I asked you," said Trafford, "whether you would be willing to give up +the school if another teacher took your place?" + + The warm, eager color rushed into Noll's face, and he cried, "Do you +mean that--that--a teacher might take my place, Uncle Richard? Do you +really mean it? Were you in earnest, and shall I answer?" + + "To be sure," said his uncle, gravely enough. + + "Oh, Uncle Richard!" cried Noll, "I _knew_ the time would come some +day! I knew it! I knew it! And will you hire a teacher for those Culm +children? Was that what you meant?" + + "I do not know that they need two," said Trafford. + + "Yes, I'll give up the school this minute!" said Noll, remembering +that he had not answered his uncle's question; "I'm willing to, if the +children can only have a teacher. Oh, but it seems too good to be +true! And are you really going to hire some one to take my place?" + + "I have hardly thought yet; you must not press questions upon me too +fast. I do not know my own mind." + + Hagar heard their voices, and came around the piazza corner to say, +"Tea hab been waitin' fur ye dis yer whole hour, Mas'r Dick, an' +'tain't growin' better, nohow. Will ye hab it wait any longer?" + + "No, we're coming, shortly," said Trafford, and presently they went in +to tea, for which Noll had not the least appetite, in spite of his +long walk,--it being quite driven away by the question which his uncle +had put to him,--and he spent most of the meal-time in taking keen and +watchful looks at Uncle Richard's face, to see when it began to cloud +over with gloom and grow stern and moody again. But the shadow which +he so much dreaded did not make its appearance, and from the +supper-table they went to the library, where Hagar had lit the lamp, +Noll feeling wonderfully happy and quite sure that this was the eve of +a brighter day for Uncle Richard and the Culm people. + + Contrary to his usual habit, Trafford did not take up his books on +reaching the library, but sat looking thoughtfully at Noll, and at +last, as if speaking his thoughts aloud, he said,-- + + "If a new teacher comes, a new schoolroom will have to follow, as a +matter of consequence; and those two rough benches which I saw over at +Culm are hardly the best style of school furniture. And how is it +about books?" + + "There are none but primers and leaves from old spelling-books," said +Noll, sitting very still and quiet with delight at hearing Uncle +Richard ask such questions. It all seemed like a dream, and not at all +a matter of reality. What could have come across the man's feelings so +suddenly and with such effect? + + Trafford resumed his inquiries after a short silence, and little by +little drew from his nephew the whole story of the school's +commencement, and what drawbacks the lack of a good room, with seats +and desks and the necessary books, were, till he had made himself +acquainted with all the needs of the school. He talked with Noll about +the Culm people, and listened to the boy's hopeful and enthusiastic +account of their slight improvement, with something that was very like +interest. But the school seemed to interest him most. He proposed that +a teacher be sent for to take charge of the school during the winter, +and that the best room which could be found among the houses be fitted +up as a schoolroom, and as nicely and warmly as possible. The teacher +and the furniture would have to come from Hastings, and most likely a +carpenter would be needed. Noll thought of John Sampson at once. + + So the evening passed away in planning and discussion, and when Noll +went to bed, it seemed as if all the events of the afternoon and +evening were but phases of a happy dream, which morning light would +banish as unreal. His thankfulness for this token of dawn, after the +long, black, weary night of gloom through which he had struggled, +could not find words enough in which to praise God for this promise of +brighter days. He prayed that it might not be fleeting, and that +morning might not show this gleam of brightness to be only imaginary. +But the morrow came, and proved yesterday's events to be real and +true, and Uncle Richard still without his stern and gloomy face, and +ready to perfect the plans which they had discussed the previous +evening. + + One day after another passed, till Noll began to be certain that +Uncle Richard's gloom and moroseness had departed from him forever. +The boy wondered and surmised, but could not account for this sudden +disappearance of the shadow. What had wrought the change so suddenly? +Would it last alway? True, Uncle Richard was not cheerful yet, and he +seemed to be carrying some heavy grief or sorrow about with him; but +from his face the grimness and gloominess were gone, and Noll was sure +that there must be some little change in his heart, else he would not +care for the welfare of these Culm children. + + A week or two elapsed before this new plan was put in operation, or +rather before anything was done toward carrying it out. The skipper +was hardly the person to intrust with the care of finding a teacher +and looking up school-books, and for a time they were in doubt and +perplexity. Then Noll proposed--what he had long been wishing--to go +to Hastings himself, and find such a teacher as was needed, procure +the suitable books and furniture, and bring John Sampson back with +him. It would require but a week's absence, and in that time all the +business could be done, and some happy days be spent with Ned Thorn +and old friends. + + Trafford hesitated a long time. Who could tell what peril the boy +might be in while crossing the sea? How could he lose him now? And, +when once in the charmed circle of old friends and associations, would +he not dislike to return to gray and barren Culm Rock? But Noll went. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +IN PERIL OF THE SEA. + + + The day had dawned clear and brilliant, but as the afternoon waned, a +gray curtain of ragged cloud slowly rose and hid the sun, and brought +an early nightfall. The wind was strong, and the sea--calm and silvery +but a few hours before--began to toss and thunder heavily. Hagar came +from the pine woods with a great basket of cones, just as the early +dusk began to settle over the windy sea and to wrap the forest in +heavy shadow, and as the old woman crossed the narrow bar of sand +which connected Culm Rock with the main-land, the wind swept over in +such strong gusts, and with such blinding sheets of spray, that her +safety was more than once endangered. But she reached the firm, +unyielding Rock, with no worse misfortune than a drenching befalling +her, and made her way to the warm and comfortable precincts of her +kitchen, with many ejaculations of delight and thankfulness. The first +sound which greeted her ears on entering was the long-drawn, solemn +voice of the organ. + + "Wonder what Mas'r Dick's got on his heart dis yer night?" she +muttered, bustling about to prepare supper; "'tain't sech music as dat +yer organ make lately. 'Pears like somethin' was de matter, anyhow." + + She prepared supper in the dining-room, muttering to herself about the +lonesomeness and silence of the house since "Mas'r Noll dun gone off;" +and when the solitary meal was in readiness, put her head in at the +library-door and called her master to tea. When she had got back to +her kitchen, and was standing in the open door, her grizzled head +thrust out into the gathering gloom and tempest to watch the progress +of the storm, she noticed that the music did not cease, but kept on in +its slow and solemn measure, rising and falling and stealing +plaintively in. + + "Something's de matter, sure," Hagar said, turning about and shutting +the door; "dat ain't de kind of music dat Mas'r Dick's made lately. +'Pears like he's 'stressed 'bout somethin'! But, Hagar, ye can't do +nuffin but jes' trust de Lord, nohow. Ye'd better get yer own supper, +ef yer Mas'r Dick don't tech his." + + She ate her supper and washed the dishes, and gave the little kitchen +a stroke or two with her broom, and yet the music from the library +came stealing in as sad-voiced and heavy as ever. + + "'Pears as if he'd never eat his supper," Hagar grumbled; "de chile +can't live on music, allers, nohow. Reckon he'll nebber hab much +sperits till he eats more. But jes' stop yer talkin', chile, ye can't +do nuffin' but trust de Lord." + + By and by the wandering notes ceased, and in the deep silence there +came up the hoarse and awful roar of the surf, with the wailing of the +wind over the chimney, and filled the house with their echoes. Hagar +heaped wood on the fire, drew her little low chair nearer the light +and gladsome blaze, shivering and muttering as she did so. She had a +great dread of cold and darkness, and the deep hush, broken by the +clamor of the sea, made her afraid. + + "De Lord's about," said she, drawing her old woollen shawl close +around her; "de Lord's on de sea, an' 'pears like nobody need be +feared when he holds it in his hand like as I holds dis yer silber ob +Mas'r Noll's dat he lost under de rug in de dinin'-room,"--looking +down at the shining coin which she had picked up that morning, and +wondering where the boy was at that moment. "'Pears as ef de sunshine +had been hid de whole time sence he went off to de city," she +muttered, gazing in the coals. "Wonder ef Mas'r Dick misses him? +Wonder ef dis yer ole woman won't be tickled 'nuff to see him when de +day comes? Ki! Hagar, ye knows ye will." + + The roar of the sea and the cry of the wind came in again, more +lonesome, sadder than ever. The old negress shivered, peered about her +into the dark corners of the kitchen, and crooned to herself,--a wild, +monotonous air, set to words which came to her lips for the +occasion:-- + + "Oh, Hagar, don't ye know + De Lord's on de sea? + He rides on de waves, + And de wind is in his hand,-- + De Lord keeps dem all! + + What ye feared of, Hagar? Kase, don't ye know de Lord's in it? 'Pears +like ye done forget dat de whole time--Now!" and she broke into her +rhymeless chant again. It was only a way she had got of setting her +thoughts to music, drawing the words out very slowly, and weaving to +and fro the while. When she had repeated her first lines, she kept on +with her thoughts, peering over her shoulder at the flickering shadows +which the fire cast on the wall behind her, shivering with awe at the +clamor without, and chanting, waveringly,-- + + "Oh, Hagar, don't ye know + De Lord's on de sea? + De wind blows, an' de sky is dark, + An' de sea _cries like a little chile_, + An' de boats will be blowed away; + But de Lord is good, an' mornin' will come, + An', oh, Hagar, sing hallelujah! + Fur de Lord is in it all!" + + Here she stopped her chanting, and began to sing "Hallelujah!" softly, +ceasing her swaying, to look into the coals. The fire burned down to +rosy embers, in which little blue-tongued flames darted up +fitfully,--anon lighting up the room brilliantly, then dying away and +leaving it almost in darkness,--while Hagar's crooning died away to a +whisper. A little gray light still shone in at the kitchen-window, but +it was fast flitting. The roar of the sea became thunder, the wind +grew tempestuous. By and by the rain began to fall, sounding strangely +soft and still, when compared with the din of wind and waves. + + "God bress us!" said Hagar, "dis yer is an awful night. Keep de boats +off de Rock, Lord, and pity de sailors in dis yer awful storm!" + + The old woman knew how the sea must look now,--yeasty, horrible, its +white wave-caps shining through the darkness and hurrying to topple +over and thunder against the rocks. To her, as she sat crouched before +the fire, it seemed to howl and scream and mourn hoarsely, like some +great voice rending the night with lamentation. + + "Call on de Lord, Hagar," she muttered frequently; "can't nuffin else +help ye now!" + + Sometimes she fell to chanting her thoughts,--the sound of her own +voice was pleasant to her in the loneliness,--and she piled cedar +chips on the fire to see their cheerful blaze and enjoy their brisk +crackle. + + "Might as well hab a candle," she said, after a time. "Git yer +knittin', chile, an' 'pear as ef ye didn't distrus' de Lord. What ef +de wind is blowin'? what ef de sea is a-screamin'? Don't ye know whose +wind and whose sea 'tis?" She got up to grope for a candle on the +shelf over the fireplace. + + "Hagar!" exclaimed a voice at the farther end of the kitchen,--a +voice so full of compressed fear and anxiety that the old negress +tumbled back in her chair with affright,--"Hagar! are you here?" +demanded the voice. + + "Bress ye! yes, I's here, Mas'r Dick!" she answered, catching sight of +his white face by the dining-room door. "I's here, but ye spoke so +suddent! Jes' wait, an' I'll hab a candle in a minnit." + + The candle was found, and, after a long blowing of coals and burning +of splinters, began to burn dimly. Hagar set it on the table, and +looked up at her master with a start of alarm, his face was so white +and anxious. + + "Hagar," said he, huskily, "_Noll was to start from Hastings this +morning!_" + + The old negress stood looking at him a full minute,--a fearful, +lonesome minute in which the rain beat against the panes, and the +awful voice of the sea filled the room,--then she sank down by the +fire with a low cry. + + "Lord bress us all!" she wailed, as she looked up, "fur he'll nebber +get here, Mas'r Dick!" + + Trafford looked at her silently. Oh, that awful voice without!--the +thunder, the tremble of the earth, the screaming of the wind! At +last,-- + + "Is ye certain sure, Mas'r Dick? D'ye _know_ he started? Did he say?" + + "Oh, Hagar, if I did not--_not know_,--if I had any doubt that he +started, I would give all my possessions this very moment!" + + "'Tain't de money nor de lands dat'll do now!" moaned Hagar, beginning +to sway back and forth; "it's only de Lord! De Lord's on de sea +to-night, an' 'tain't fur man to say! Oh, Mas'r Dick! t'ink o' dat +bressed boy in dese waves an' dis wind!" + + "Hush!" said the master, imperatively, "I will _not_ think of it! It +can't be! Noll? Oh, Hagar, I believe I'm going mad!" He turned away +from the old negress and opened the door. The tempest swept in, +overturning the candle and flaring up the fire, and bearing the rain, +in one long gust, across the little kitchen, even into Hagar's face. + + Trafford stood there, regardless of wind and rain, looking out upon +the sea. The mighty tumult awed him and filled his heart with a sense +of man's utter weakness and helplessness. The foamy expanse gleamed +whitely through the night,--awful with the terror of death,--and its +deafening roar smote upon his ears, and in the slightest lull, the +rain-drops fell with a soft, dull patter. Noll in it all?--in this +fearful, yawning sea,--in this wild tumult of wind and rain,--in the +vast waste of waves which the thick darkness shrouded, and where death +was riding? "God help me!" he cried in sudden frenzy,--"God help me!" +He looked up at the thick, black depths of sky with a groan of agony +when he remembered his utter powerlessness. But what right had he to +look to Heaven for aid?--he who knew not God, nor sought him, nor +desired his love? The bitterness of this thought made him groan and +beat his breast. Would He--whom all his life long he had refused and +rejected--hear his cries? + + Hagar's voice came to him here through all the din and thunder, +beseeching that the door might be closed. He closed it behind him, +and stepped out into the darkness. It was already past the hour for +the "Gull" to arrive, he remembered, and then a sudden thought flashed +through his brain that beacons ought to be kindled to guide the +skipper, if he were not already beyond the need of earthly guides and +beacons. And close upon this thought came a remembrance of the Culm +fishermen,--stout, skilful sailors, all of them,--and a great hope +filled his heart that in them he might find aid in his extremity. And +without waiting for a second thought, he started through the inky +darkness and the tempest for Culm village. He ran till he was +breathless. He climbed and groped his way over and along the slippery +rocks, the awful voice of the sea filling his ears and goading him on. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +WEARY WATCHING. + + + The evening wore on. They were all on the beach,--Trafford and the +Culm fishermen,--and now a beacon fire streamed up into the darkness, +and made the night seem even more black and intense. They had piled +their heap of driftwood somewhat in the shelter of a great rock, and +around it the men were huddled, muttering and whispering to each +other, and casting sober glances at Trafford, who stood apart from +them in the shadow. Not a word had he spoken since the fire was +kindled, but, grim and silent as a statue, had stood there, with his +eyes looking upon the gleaming sea, and the rain beating in his face. +He had worked desperately while gathering driftwood. + + "The master be crazed, like," Dirk had whispered to the men as they +came in with armfuls of fuel. "D'ye see his eyes? D'ye see the way he +be runnin' up an' down, poor man?" + + "Ay, an' his lad be where many o' your'n an' mine ha' been, eh, Dirk?" +said Hark Harby. "Mabby he ken tell what 'tis ter be losin' his own, +an' no help fur it, eh?" + + "Sh!" said Dirk; "the sea ben't able ter get sech a lad as his every +day. If he be lost, 'tis a losin' fur more'n he, yender." + + This was before the beacon was kindled. Now they huddled in a gloomy +circle about the hissing, sputtering fire, some crouching close to the +rock to save themselves from the rain, and the others drawing their +heads down into their wide-collared jackets, that bade defiance to the +wet. The wind whirled and raved, and the sea thundered on. The fire +cast a little pathway of light through the darkness, down to the sea's +edge, and they could see its waves all beaten to foam as white as +milk, flecking the sand in great patches. It was an awful waiting. + + By and by Hagar came down along the sand in a great hood-cloak that +gave her a most weird and witchlike appearance. The fishermen looked +at her with startled, suspicious eyes as the bent old figure suddenly +emerged from the darkness into the full glare of the firelight. The +old negress passed on to where Trafford was standing. + + "I's here, Mas'r Dick," she said, touching his arm, as if fain to +assure him of her presence and sympathy. + + He did not repel her, but said, with much of kindness in his tone, +"This is no place for you, Hagar." + + "De Lord's here," said Hagar, quietly, "an' I's gwine ter stay. I +isn't feared, Mas'r Dick." + + Trafford looked in her wrinkled, time-worn old face yearningly. This +black, ignorant old woman had something within her heart that gave her +a peace and serenity in this fearful hour that he envied. He felt the +truth of this as he had never felt it before. She was stayed and +upheld by some invisible hand. Somehow, in her humble life, this old +negress had found some great truth which all his own study and +research had failed to teach him. He turned about and made her a seat +of boards on an old spar which lay on the sand, under the shelter of +the rock by the fire. + + "T'ank ye, Mas'r Dick," said Hagar, tremulously, as she sat down. This +unusual kindness touched her. It was like his old-time thoughtfulness +and gentleness, when he was her own blithe, merry schoolboy, she +thought. + + The rain began to fall less heavily. Only now and then a great drop +fell with a hiss and sputter into the fire; but the wind grew fiercer +as the evening waned, and the thunder and pounding of the sea was +deafening. The spray dashed higher and higher, quite up to the backs +of the men who huddled about the fire, and its fine mist sifted even +into Hagar's face and grizzled locks. + + "'Tain't nuffin tu what dat bressed boy is suff'rin'," she sighed, +wiping the cold drops off her cheeks; "'pears as ef dis ole heart 'ud +split'n two, thinkin' ob it. O good Lord, bress de chile!--bress +him,--bress him!--dat's all Hagar ken say." + + It was a weary watching. As the war of the sea grew louder and the +wind fiercer, the Culm fishermen gathered into a yet closer group, and +looked with awed and sober faces in the fire. For all that these men +followed the sea, and it was almost a native element to them, they +seemed to have a great dread and awe of it. Trafford yet stood apart +from them with his eyes looking into the dense night, and Hagar, all +muffled in her great cloak, swayed slowly to and fro with her face +hidden. Oh, the suspense and agony of those minutes!--the weary +watching and waiting for--what? + + It came at last. In the short space of silence between the bursting of +two great waves, there rose a cry from out the great waste of darkness +beyond their little length and breadth of light. Trafford started and +sprang forward. The men around the fire were startled from their +crouching positions by this shrill, sudden shout, and looked in one +another's faces and--waited. But the cry was not repeated. Then Dirk +said,-- + + "It wur the skipper, sure. O Lord, men! but I be feared the 'Gull' be +on the rocks, yender." + + The sweat stood in drops on his forehead, and he slowly clinched and +unclinched his great brawny hands. Trafford heard his words, and a +sudden faintness like death smote him. But it passed away, and in +sudden frenzy and despair he rushed up to Dirk, exclaiming,-- + + "How do you know, man? How can you tell? There was only a cry!" + + Before Dirk could answer, there rose, clear and distinct, that one +solitary voice from out the darkness,--a fearful, appealing cry for +aid from some human heart out there in the awful presence of death. +And that thrilling cry was all. It never came again. Trafford beat his +breast with agony. Then he turned upon the fishermen. + + "Why do you stand here," he cried, furiously, "when they are perishing +out there? My boy is there!--my boy that's done so much for you and +yours! Will you let him drown without lifting a hand to save him?" + + "It be no use to try," said the men, pointing to the surf; "boat's ud +crack like a gull's shell out there." + + "But try,--only try!" shouted Trafford, in an agonized tone. "If money +will tempt you, you shall have all of mine! You shall have more than +ever your eyes saw before! I will make you all rich!--only try,--only +try!" + + "We'd try soon enough for the young master's sake, an' ye might keep +yer gold," said Dirk; "but it wud be no use, an' only losin' of life. +The lad be beyont our help or yer gold, either." + + "'Tain't de money nor de lands dat'll do, now," moaned Hagar; "it's +only de Lord!" + + "But think of it, you ungrateful wretches!" cried Trafford, +frantically,--"the lad has done more for you and yours than you can +ever repay! He went across the sea this time to do you good, and it's +for your sakes that he's out in the peril yonder! Will you let him +drown without even an attempt to save him? Will you?" + + Dirk shook his head. "It be no use," he said, "but we ken try. I be +not one to hev it said that I be unthankful. Here, lads, give us a +hand! Ef I'll be riskin' my life fur any one, 'tis fur the lad +yender." + + They dragged a boat down to the curling line of foam, and watching for +a favorable opportunity, launched it. Trafford sprang in with them, +and they pushed into the darkness. It seemed hardly three minutes to +those who stood around the fire, before a great wave came riding in +and threw the boat and its load upon the sand. Dirk sprang up and +seized Trafford before the returning flood had engulfed him. He +pointed to the rent ribs of the boat, saying, as he shook himself,-- + + "It be as I told ye. Yer lad be beyont yer gold or yer help." + + They made no more attempts. Trafford gave up the idea of a rescue, and +paced up and down the sand in the very face of the surf that drenched +him at every tumble. Utterly helpless! The cold, cruel sea mocked his +despair and frenzy. It was great and mighty, and even now was +swallowing his treasure, he thought, which lay almost within his power +to save. So near!--and yet death between! The thought made him half +wild with despair and horror. Yet there was no help,--nowhere to turn +for aid or succor,--not the faintest hope of saving the boy's life. +The sea must swallow him. + + The fishermen looked askance at the wild, desperate figure that rushed +up and down the sand as if it sought to burst through the sea and save +its treasure, and whispered gloomily among themselves. Suddenly the +man wheeled about and came up to the fire, crying, fiercely,-- + + "Hagar, you have a God! I cannot find him. Pray to him,--pray to him! +Quick, woman!--pray to him before it's too late!" + + "Lord help ye, Mas'r Dick!" said Hagar, "I's jes' prayin' fur de dear +chile ebery minnit! Don't ye know it? But de Lord's out +thar!"--pointing with her skinny finger to the depths of darkness +which shrouded the sea, with such vehemence as to startle the +fishermen; "he's wid dat boy, and thar can't nuffin kill his soul. +It's only goin' to glory quicker'n de rest ob us. Don't ye know it, +Mas'r Dick?--can't ye feel it? What's de winds or de waves, so long as +de Lord's got ye in his arms, holdin' ye up?--as he's got dat boy ob +your'n. Oh, Mas'r Dick! jes' humble yerself 'fore de Lord, right off. +What's de use ob stribin' to fight him?--what's de use? 'Tain't no +use!--ye knows it dis minnit!--ye knows it all ober! Call on de Lord +yerself, Mas'r Dick!--call on de Lord 'fore it's too late!" + + "I cannot, I cannot!" groaned Trafford, dropping down on the sand by +his old nurse; "I don't know him, and he will not hear me. Oh, my boy, +my boy!" + + He gave up then. Hagar knew by the way he sank back upon the sand, all +the wildness and fierceness gone out of his face, and the crushed, +broken-hearted manner in which his head drooped, that he had given up +the boy. She gathered his head on her knee, as she had often done when +he was a youth, and stroked it tenderly, saying, as her tears +dropped,-- + + "Poor chile, poor honey! Hagar's sorry fur ye. It's a dreadful t'ing +not ter know de Lord; ain't it, chile? Can't do nuffin widout him, +somehow. But Hagar hopes ye'll find him; she hopes ye'll find him dis +berry night. 'Pears like he ain't fur off dis awful night; an', O Lord +Jesus!"--folding her hands reverently, and looking toward the sea as +if she saw her Redeemer walking there,--"come an' bress dis poor +broken heart dat can't find ye. It's jes' waitin' fur de bressin', +an' 'pears like 'twould faint ter def ef ye didn't come. Come, Lord, +come." + + The night wore slowly on. The "Gull" began to break in pieces and +float ashore. The fishermen had enough to do to snatch the boxes and +bales which the sea hurled up. As yet, none of the "Gull's" more +precious freight of life had made its way through the sea to the +shore. Dirk was watching keenly for it. A half-dozen draggled, fearful +women had stolen down from their houses, and were standing by the +fire, whispering and talking in undertones, with many glances of pity +at the figure lying prone on the sand with its head in the old black +woman's lap. + + "Alack!" said Dirk, with a great sigh, "it wur a fine lad. I never +knowed kinder nor better. Ye ken all say that, women, an' this be the +sorriest night I ever knowed, 'cept when my little gal died. He wur +good to my little gal, the lad wur, an' he giv' me a bit o' flower to +put on the sand where she be sleepin', an' it growed an' growed an' +blossomed, an' the blossom wur like a great blue eye,--like my little +gal's eye,--an' many's the night after fishin' I've gone up ter the +buryin'-place ter look at it. An' now the lad himself be gone," said +Dirk, wiping his eyes and snuffling. + + "Ay, it be a heavy night!" moaned the women, wiping their eyes with +the corners of their aprons. + + A great heap of bales and boxes and bits of the "Gull's" timbers was +accumulating on the sand by the fire. The women sat down on them, +keeping up their low talk and whispers, and watching the two silent +figures the other side of the fire. The man moved not a muscle. The +old negress bent over him, stroking his forehead and whispering and +crooning. Only once he had said, chokingly, "My Noll!--all that was +left to me," and now lay passive and unheeding, overwhelmed and +crushed by the sense of his loss and the consciousness that the sea +had quenched the brave, bright life forever. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +WAITING. + + + The long, long, weary night gave way to a gray and gloomy dawn. The +tempest had not abated, and the sea thundered as furiously as ever. +The wet and shivering women had gone back to their houses and their +little ones; and as the cold, steely light of the coming day began +to whiten in the east, Hagar made her way back to her kitchen, +where she kindled a fire to warm her numb limbs. Never more, she +thought,--rocking to and fro before the pleasant blaze,--could the old +house be bright or cheerful. The sea had quenched its life and its +joy, and never again would the merry voice echo in the great rooms, or +the quick, eager steps sound along the hall and in at her +kitchen-door. + + "O good, bressed Lord!" moaned she, "bress yer poor chil'en dat's lef' +behind! 'Pears like dey was jes' ready ter fall down an' faint ter def +ef ye didn't hold 'em up. O Lord, keep Hagar up, an' 'vent her from +'strustin' ye! Bress us, Lord, fur we ain't nuffin dis yer time. Ye's +all we hab ter hold on ter." + + Meanwhile, Trafford and the fishermen lingered on the shore, waiting +for the sea to give up its dead. The east grew whiter, and light +broke dimly over the waste of waves, and faintly showed them where the +"Gull" had struck. There was not much left of the little craft,--only +a few timbers and the taper point of a mast, wedged in between some +outlying rocks, which the sea thundered over. It was a dreary +sight,--the vast, immeasurable waste lashed into foam, and dimly +discerned through the gray gleaming of the dawn, with the bit of wreck +swaying in the wares, where those lives had gone out in the awful +thunder and darkness; but Trafford gazed upon it with a calm face. +Groans and lamentation could not express the agony which rent his +heart, and he walked up and down the drenched sand with a calm, white +face that awed Dirk whenever he looked upon it. + + "It be a heavier stroke for the master an' we ken tell, lads," he +said to his comrades, as they kept keen lookout for the poor bodies +which the sea still kept. + + "Ay, there be a heart within him like the rest of us," said one of the +fishermen, looking at Trafford as he kept his watchful vigil; "an' he +be only losin' what we hev lost afore." + + "But the lad wur not like ours," said Dirk, pityingly, "an' it wur a +finer lad an' ever I see afore." + + So they talked as they watched and waited, and the light grew, and +somewhere behind the lowering banks of clouds in the east the sun had +risen, and all the land and sea lay cold and warmthless and forlorn. +Trafford relinquished not his keen search for a moment, fearful lest +the waves should cast his lost treasure at his feet and snatch it back +before he could grasp it. The dear face might be bruised and battered +by the cruel, remorseless sea, and the eyes could never beam upon him +with any light of love or recognition, he thought; yet find it and +look upon it he must, even though the sight agonized him. So he +watched and waited, with his tearless eyes roaming along the line of +foam. + + An hour fled. The sea relented, and gave up one poor form into the +fishermen's hands. Trafford walked calmly out to where the men were +bending over it with pale, awed faces, and saw that it was not Noll. +He shivered, looking at the skipper's stalwart figure, and wondered +whether, if the sailor but had the power of speech, he might not tell +him something of his boy,--whether he met death's dark face calmly and +fearlessly, and whether he sent a message to those whom he saw on the +shore and could not call to. This thought gave him fresh anguish. If +Noll had sent him a farewell,--a last message,--oh, what would he not +give to hear it? But, if that were really the case, it had died with +those to whom it was intrusted. The sea would never whisper it,--the +dead could not. He went back to his lonely pacing. + + Another long, long hour passed. The bit of wreck that was jammed +between the rocks went to pieces and came ashore. Ben's mate came with +it, but no Noll. The men began to straggle homeward, weary and worn +with the night's vigil, till only Dirk and Hark Darby were left to +keep the stricken master of the stone house company. Oh, such a weary +waiting it was!--the ceaseless pouring of the waves upon the sand +filling their ears with clamor, and the fearful tide bringing them +not the treasure which they sought. Would the sea never give it up? +Was the dear form caught and held by the entangling arms of some +purple weed in the sea depths? or was it cradled in the calm, +unruffled quiet of some crevice of the rocks? + + "Oh, cruel, cruel sea!" he cried to himself, "to rob me of my boy, and +refuse to give back the poor boon of his body." + + It never came. The morning wore on to noon, the noon to night, and +still the lonely watcher paced up and down. Toward night the tempest +abated, and the turmoil of the sea subsided somewhat. The gray clouds +broke and let through a slant mist of yellow sunshine as the sun +departed, and the storm was over. Its work was done; and as the clouds +fled in ragged squadrons, the calm, untroubled stars shone out over +the sea, and mocked, with their deep, unutterable peace, the aching, +wretched heart of him who still kept up his lonely pacing. Trafford's +eyes suddenly caught sight of their silvery glitter, and he stopped, +looking up at them, while the sudden thought flashed through his mind, +"Is my boy up there? beyond those shining worlds, in that happy heaven +which he trusted in?" + + The thought held him silent and motionless. It had not entered his +heart before. He had been searching for the lad upon this dreary, +sea-beaten shore, without a thought of anything beyond. Was he really +standing upon a heavenly shore, where no waves beat nor tempest raved, +and, perhaps, looking down upon his own lonely vigil? + + There was something in this thought which brought a great calm upon +his heart. True, the boy was no less dead nor separated from him; the +merry voice was no less hushed to him for all his life and journeying, +and the echo of his footsteps might never float down from heavenly +paths to gladden his ears; yet, though he realized this, there was a +wonderful peace and joy in thinking of the lad as happy and joyous in +a sphere where nothing would ever blight his happiness; where he had +found those who bore him a great love and had been long waiting for +his coming. Trafford sat down on the great pile of broken timbers, and +once more looked upward at the stars. Pure and unwavering their gentle +eyes looked down at him. And then peaceful as an angel's whisper, came +the remembered words of one who was an angel too: "Oh, Richard! don't +fail--don't fail to find Him and cling to Him, and come up,--come up +too." + + Why, oh, why, of all times, did this gentle breathing come to him +here? It seemed to Trafford as if his wife's lips had whispered it +close to his ear, and he bowed his head upon his breast, while his +breath came quick and fast, and bitter tears of grief stood in his +eyes. Had God taken his treasures, one after another, and placed them +in that heaven which they all looked forward to, that his own wayward, +straying heart might be drawn thither? Was this last loss meant to be +the great affliction which, through love, should turn his heart toward +God and his kingdom? He could not tell; his heart was strangely +stirred and melted within him. It seemed to him as if that angel +whisper had driven the great burden of despair and agony out of his +heart by its gentle breathing, and left it broken and sorrowful, yet +not without peace and hope. He looked up at the stars and thought of +Noll, and wept. They were not tears of agony, and he did not rave and +groan. A slow step came along the sand, turning hither and thither, as +if in quest of some one. It drew near Trafford, at last, and a +tremulous old voice said,-- + + "Is dis ye, Mas'r Dick? Hagar's glad 'nough ter find ye, anyhow. +'Pears like she couldn't stay up ter de house, nohow,--'twas so +lonesome." + + "Yes, I know, Hagar," said the man, without raising his head. + + The twilight was so thick that the old negress could not see the +speaker's face, but a certain tremble and softness of his voice did +not escape her notice. + + "Have ye foun' de Lord, Mas'r Dick?" she asked, quickly. + + "I know not what I have found," Trafford answered, while his tears +fell; "but if I might find his face, and know that it smiled upon me, +I should care for little else." + + "Now praise de Lord!" said Hagar, fervently; "dat's more'n ye ever +felt afore. Thar's help fur ye, Mas'r Dick, an' 'tain't fur off!" + + "Too far for me to find it!" said Trafford; "he does not smile upon +those who have rejected him." + + "Oh, chile!" said Hagar, in a shocked tone; "don't ye know de Lord's +all mercy an' lubbin' kin'ness? Don't ye know he won't 'spise an' hate +ye jes' as ef he was like a man? Oh, honey! Hagar's feared ter hear ye +talk like dat. 'Pears as ef ye made de Lord jes' like poor, eble, +good-fur-nuffin man." + + Trafford made no reply. A sudden darkness seemed shutting down upon +him. It was as if a great golden gleam had fallen out of heaven upon +him, warming and softening his heart, and when he turned with tears +and joy to look along its pathway heavenward, it vanished and left him +groping in confusion and dismay. He got up from off his seat, saying, +mournfully,-- + + "The brightness is all gone from me! I'm in doubt and fear. Oh, how +can I ever find his face?--and how can he ever smile upon me who have +rejected him?" + + Hagar sighed heavily as she said, "Ye don't 'preciate de Lord, chile. +Ye talks jes' as ef he was a man, an' could feel 'vengeful towards ye! +Don't s'pose any _man_ could forgive ye, honey, but de bressed Lord +is all lub,--Hagar knows _dat_,--an' Jesus died jes' as much fur ye as +he did fur anybody. Ye's got to look to dat bressed Lord Jesus, an' ef +ye looks hard 'nough, ye'll find him. Oh, Hagar t'anks de Lord frum de +bottom ob her heart fur yer feelin' so to-night." + + "But I have not found him! He is hidden from me!" said Trafford. + + "But ye will ef ye looks long enough!" said Hagar, cheerfully; "he'll +come out ob de darkness to ye: bimeby. Bress ye, chile, dis ole woman +was lookin' an' seekin' an' stribin' in mis'ry till she was 'bout +ready to give up in 'spair; but I foun' him at las', an' he nebber +'sook Hagar,--nebber!" + + The sea was growing calmer with every hour that passed. But it was +rough and thunderous still, and its wave-crests gleamed whitely under +the starlight. Trafford at last remembered the lateness of the hour, +and said, "Come, Hagar, this is no place for us. We will go in." + + The two slowly made their way along the shore up to the dark and +deserted stone house. Hagar smothered the sigh that rose up from her +heart as the silence and loneliness smote upon it, and led the way +around to her kitchen-door. + + "Poor chile! ye habn't had nuffin to eat dis day," said she, after +they were once within her little dominion and she had kindled the +fire; "go into de libr'y, honey, an' I'll hab ye sumfin' purty quick." + + But Trafford shook his head, saying, "Not there!--not there, yet!" and +sat down on the bench by the fire. + + Hagar moved wearily about from the cupboard to the table, saying to +herself,-- + + "What ye t'inkin' ob, Hagar, to tell him dat? Dar's all poor Mas'r +Noll's books an' t'ings lyin' 'bout eberywhar, an' how ken de poor +chile stan' it? De Lord's han' is heaby upon him, an', O good Lord +Jesus, jes' come an' bress de poor chile an' sabe him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +DAYS OF CALM. + + + He found it at last,--the peace which comes after a long, weary, +despairing struggle. But it was not easily won. It seemed to Trafford +as if God had hidden himself in a thick, awful darkness, through which +not the faintest ray of light or hope could glimmer upon his heavy, +despairing heart. He sought for him as one who, feeling himself in +the grasp of Death, would seek for Life. He had long rejected him and +put him away; now, in his hour of anguish and extremity, his face and +his peace were hard to find. Never had such utter silence reigned in +the stone house since its occupancy as reigned there now. Hagar kept +mostly within her own province, and Trafford sat day after day in the +dining-room, hardly stirring from thence. He had not entered the +library since the night of the shipwreck, neither had Hagar stepped +within the room, where all Noll's books and shells and treasures +gathered from the sea lay, and where everything hinted of the sunny, +joyous life which once had made the great room cheerful. Neither +looked within, as if they dreaded to recall the dear and pleasant +vision of the curly-haired boy who had lived and studied there. These +were the days in which Trafford groped in darkness and despondency. +Hagar set the table by his side, and brought him his meals, and +carried away the untasted viands, with much sighing and regret, but, +nevertheless, with joy in her heart. + + "'Pears as ef 'twas a drefful t'ing fur de poor chile ter be suff'rin' +so," she would sigh to herself as she watched his worn and heavy face +on her passages through the room; "but Hagar's t'ankful 'nough to see +it, 'cause de poor chile'll find de Lord bimeby. Bress de Lord! Mas'r +Dick'll find him some time!" + + A long and weary week passed away. Without, the world had never been +fairer, nor the sea lovelier. No storms lashed it, and the great world +of waves glittered calm and untroubled under the sun, with no hint of +death or woe in its purple evening lights or its bright morning +gleams. + + Then, after this long seeking, a faint hope began to dawn in +Trafford's heart. He did not dare to give it heed or trust at +first,--he who had been in despair so long,--and when, at last, he +began to put forth feeble, trembling anticipations of the peace and +joy which might come when God's smile and forgiveness shone upon him, +this little ray of hope broadened and grew warmer and brighter, and he +began to look up out of his depths of anguish. It was long coming,--it +seemed at times to be utterly unattainable,--it was sometimes almost +within his heart, and then it fled from him; but at last it came, and +abode with him,--this peace which a poor, wandering soul feels after +it has found its Lord. Then he was at rest. He came out into Hagar's +kitchen one sunshiny afternoon, and, in answer to the old negress' +look of wonder and surprise at seeing him there, said, with a grave +joy thrilling his words,-- + + "Hagar, I have found him; and I do not think that his peace will ever +leave me, or that my heart will ever forget him." + + Hagar got up off the bench where she was sitting, and came slowly +forward, saying, brokenly, "Bress de Lord, bress de Lord! dat's all +Hagar ken say. Oh, chile, ef ye knew how dis ole heart felt ter hear +ye say dem words! ef ye only c'u'd know! But ye nebber will till dis +ole woman gits such a tongue as de Lord'll gib her when she gets ter +heaben. Den Hagar ken tell ye!" + + She followed him to the door, and sat down there in the sunshine, +softly blessing him again and again as she watched him follow the +thread of a path which led around to the piazza. Trafford paused +here, on the smooth sand by the piazza-steps, and looked out upon the +sea. It was like a new sea, and the very earth seemed not as of old, +for now God reigned over them, and it was his sunshine which fell so +brightly and broadly everywhere, and his smile and the knowledge of +his forgiveness which filled his heart with such utter peace and +tranquillity. This great joy and calm held him quiet for a little +space, and, when he turned about, his eyes fell upon the little +breadth of grass waving there by the step. One or two gay, crimson +asters nodded in the warm wind, planted there by the same hand that +watered and cared for the bit of turf. Trafford sat down by them, +stroking the turf's green blades, and gazing at the warm-hued flowers +through tears. "Gone--gone," they seemed to whisper as they softly +rustled. Somehow these tender, soulless things brought up the boy's +memory most vividly. He remembered how Noll sat on the same bit of +turf only those two short weeks ago with the warm wind blowing his +curly locks about his eyes while he looked off upon the sea. Who +thought of danger or death then? Who thought of death lying in wait in +that calm, shadowy sea? Trafford's tears fell thick and fast upon the +green blades, thinking of the lad. Did ever the sea quench a fairer, +brighter life? he wondered,--a life fuller of rich and generous +promise? Yet, only two short weeks ago,--short, in reality, but slow +and long in passing,--the boy had sat upon this little breadth of +verdure full of life and spirits and happiness. + + "Ah!" sighed he, "I knew not a treasure I possessed till it passed +from me. Now that I have lost it, I see what a blissful life I might +have made for myself and it. God forgive me! but I was harsh and cruel +to the boy. I made his life darker and less joyous than it ought to +have been." + + He sat here for a long time, till once more his face was calm and +undisturbed. Sometime, he thought, he might meet the boy face to face, +and tell him all that his heart longed to unburden itself of. He rose +up, at last, and went slowly in, pausing at the library-door. After a +few seconds of indecision, he opened it, and went softly in. The room +was cold and chilly from its long unoccupancy; but through one of the +high windows, and along the floor, streamed a broad bar of cheerful +sunlight. It fell right across Noll's study-table and the chair which +he was wont to occupy. Trafford moved forward, sat down in the chair, +and looked about him with misty eyes. Traces of the boy's presence +everywhere! The familiar school-books, open to the last lessons which +Trafford had heard him recite; bits of paper, with sums and solutions +traced thereon; copies of the fine and feathery sea-moss, which it was +the boy's delight to gather, with odd pebbles and shells, met his gaze +on either hand. He took up a scrap of paper from among the rest, and +found something thereon which the boy had written, evidently in an +idle moment. Trafford, however, read it not without emotion. It merely +said:-- + + "_Wednes., Aug. 24._--This is a long, gray, rainy day, and I have not +stirred out of the house. I am at this moment (or ought to be) +studying my Latin lesson. Uncle Richard has not spoken a word to me +since breakfast. I wish I knew what made him look so grim and sober +to-day, and I _do_ wish he would speak to me. When the fog lifted just +now, I fancied I saw a ship on the horizon, bound for Hastings, I +suppose. Oh, but I--" + + Here the slight record was broken off. Perhaps the boy had gone back +to his Latin, or perhaps the passing ship had taken his thoughts along +with it to Hastings, and thus left the half-commenced exclamation +unfinished. Trafford read and reread the little bit of paper, and +folded it carefully, and put it away with the precious letter which +the boy's father had written on his dying-bed. Then he began to +gather up Noll's books, thinking to put them out of his sight, but +stopped before he had taken the third in his hand. Why hide them? Why +shut them up in darkness, as if some evil, dreaded memory were +connected with the sight of them? Had not everything about the boy and +his life been bright and pleasant to think of? He put the books back +in their places, saying to himself, "They shall stay where they are. +Hagar shall not move them, and I will have them before my eyes alway, +just as his dear hands left them? Why should I try to hide aught that +his blessed memory lingers around?" + + So he left everything just as Noll's hands had placed them last, and +rose up from his chair, and went to his old familiar seat by the great +bookcase, where he had sat and pored over great volumes day after +day, and watched the boy at his studies. The portrait on the wall +looked down at him with its soft and tender eyes, and he thought, "Now +I may look at it without its reproaching me; for, dear heart, I have +begun to 'come up.' I have turned my eyes toward thy abode, and, God +helping me, I may some day hear thy own sweet voice. And though I may +never see the boy's face, and rejoice to look upon it as I do upon +thine, yet his pure memory lingers about everything that he loved and +touched, and his face can never be removed from my heart." + + Calm and peaceful days passed, and the third week after the shipwreck +went by, and life in the stone house began to move on as it was wont +to do. Once more the red light from the library-window streamed out +into the night, but there was no Skipper Ben and his "Gull" for it to +guide. Not a sail had been seen near the Rock, and its inhabitants had +been shut out from the rest of mankind for three long weeks. That +which at first was only an inconvenience grew to be a serious matter +at last. The Culm folk, never very provident, exhausted their supply +of flour and meal, and had only fish to eat; and fish, with a little +salt, was not an extensive nor varied bill of fare. + + In some way or another, Hagar discovered that the people had exhausted +all their stores, and through her it came to Trafford's ears. + + "Nuffin but fish ter live on, an' not de greatest plenty o' dat," +Hagar had said, standing beside Trafford's chair in the library. + + The man started, as a sudden remembrance of forgotten duties came +into his mind. He had neglected to look after those Culm people,--he +had forgotten about Noll's school and its pupils. But it should be so +no longer, he resolved at once. That work which the boy loved and +desired to complete, he would take up and carry out. It should be a +pleasure and delight. He would gather up the broken, half-completed +plans, and make it the work of his life to perfect them as Noll would +have done. Now the inmates of the stone house were not well supplied +with provisions, as the winter stores had not been laid in. There was +no telling when another ship would touch at Culm, but, in all +probability, it would be soon. The skipper must have friends +somewhere, who would be searching for his whereabouts. Trafford +divided his supplies with the fishermen, trusting that ere long some +sail would appear, bound for the Rock, or within signalling distance +of it. He walked often by the sea, looking toward Hastings, and trying +in vain to discern some sail bound hitherward. He walked over to Culm +village, and lingered about the little room where Noll's school had +been, and resolved that the plan of a new schoolroom, with good seats, +benches, and a faithful teacher, should be carried out if ever +communication was opened between the Rock and Hastings. And if no +teacher could be got for the winter, he would teach the children +himself. He wondered whether there were any chairs or benches left +from the cargo of the "Gull," remembering that Noll was to bring +school-furniture from Hastings with him; but, though he searched long +and keenly among the timbers and refuse which the sea had thrown up, +he could not find so much as a bit of varnished wood that looked as if +it might have belonged to a desk or chair. At this he wondered, but +thought, "The poor boy was unsuccessful, or else the sea refuses to +give up aught that was his, as well as himself." + + And still he watched and waited for a sail, thinking that if none came +soon, a way must be devised for getting to Hastings. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +OUT OF THE SEA. + + + The fourth week after the shipwreck dragged slowly away,--spent in +watching and waiting for a sail. None came. The lack of good food was +getting to be a serious matter for both Culm folk and the inmates of +the stone house. Trafford's stores were well-nigh exhausted, and the +last day of that long fourth week was spent in company with Dirk +Sharp and some of his comrades, devising plans by which they might +communicate with Hastings. The master of the stone house walked +homeward after his conference with the fishermen, and paused in the +gathering dusk on the spot where he had stood that fearful night when +the "Gull" and her crew were on the rocks in the awful roar and +thunder of the tempest. How silent and peaceful it all lay now,--the +sea purpling in its calm and shadowy depths, its waves faintly +murmuring on the pebbles, and, overhead, the arch of silvery sky +bending down to the far horizon, full of the tender lights of the +after-glow! Only one month since that fearful night, yet how far in +the dim past the event seemed! What a great darkness and despair he +had struggled through! How full and real every minute of those four +weeks had been! And, as he stood there, such strong and tender +memories of the lad he had lost came back to him that he turned away +with a throbbing heart, and walked homeward along the sand with a +bowed head, and so failed to see the white gleaming of a sail which +rose out of the sea and stood toward the Rock. The lingering daylight +touched it with a rosy flush as the rising night-breeze bore it +steadily onward; but Trafford saw it not, and went up the +piazza-steps, and into the stone house, without turning his eyes +seaward. + + He ate his scanty supper, which Hagar--poor heart!--had placed upon +the table with a wonderful display of dishes, as if to make up for the +lack of food by a board spread with cups and plates enough for a +feast, and then took his way to the silent library. He sat down at +his organ, and from its long-silent pipes drew soft and tender music +that filled the room and stole gently through the house. The tears +came into Hagar's eyes as she listened to it. + + "'Pears as ef de angels was singin'," she said, wiping her cheeks. +"Hagar wonders ef de Lord'll gib her a voice like dat when she gets +ter glory." + + It died away at last in gentle, tremulous whispers, and Trafford +walked to the window and looked out. Twilight had settled so thickly +that the sea was quite hidden, save a faint glimmer of ripples along +the sand. Deep quiet reigned over land and sea, and nowhere with such +undisputed sway as in the stone house. Trafford lit his study-lamp and +sat down, with no desire, however, to read or study. Hardly had he +seated himself, when, with startling suddenness, a shrill scream broke +upon the deep quiet. It was Hagar's voice, and the cry came from her +kitchen; and before Trafford had recovered from his surprise, there +was a little sound of commotion in her distant province,--doors were +thrown open, voices echoed, and then along the silent hall came a +sound--the rush of eager feet--that drove every trace of color from +Trafford's face, as well it might, and made his heart beat so loud and +wildly that he pressed his hands over it to stay its tumultuous +beating. He started up, gazing with wide-open eyes at the +library-door, while at every echo of those coming footsteps, he +started and trembled, and grew faint with anticipation. The door burst +open, and there stood--Noll Trafford! + +[Illustration: "It's I, Uncle Richard" Page 421.] + + One moment the boy paused, perhaps frightened by the white face of the +man who sat gazing motionlessly at him, then he bounded forward, +crying, "It's I, Uncle Richard!--your own Noll!" + + Trafford's arms did not clasp the boy about; his tongue refused to +articulate; his heart could not take in this great, overwhelming joy. +But Noll's arms were about his neck, the boy's warm breath was upon +his cheek, and in his ears was the lad's whisper, "It's I,--I, Uncle +Richard! no one else!" + + Then the man began to sigh, just as if he were awakening from a long +and troubled dream, and presently he put out his hand and touched the +boy's cheeks, as if to assure himself that it was not all a vision, +and then he said, chokingly, "My boy,--_mine_! O God! I don't deserve +this." + + His arms clasped the lad in one long, fervent embrace. He bent his +head over the curly locks, and wept for joy, stroking the lad's +shoulders and pressing his hands the while, as if he were not yet sure +that the boy was a reality. He looked upon him as one from the dead. +Had the sea given him up?--had that terrible tempest spared him in its +wild fury? Why had the boy lingered so long? Where had he been +sojourning all these long weeks? But too happy in the consciousness +that it was really Noll, safe and unharmed, who was before him, to +care for aught further at present, he sat silently holding the boy's +hands, while his heart gave grateful thanks to God. + + "Poor Uncle Richard!" said the boy, at last. + + Trafford's lips moved, and with an effort he said, "No, no,--not +_poor_! I'm rich, rich!--_so_ rich! O God, help me! I can't believe my +own happiness." + + "But it's really I, Uncle Richard!" said Noll, assuringly; "you've +felt my hands, my face, my shoulders, and aren't they alive and warm?" + + "Yes, it is really you, thank God!" said Trafford, drawing a long +breath, while he gazed upon the merry face that he never more expected +to see on earth. + + "Yes, and oh, Uncle Richard, you can't know how I longed to see you, +to tell you that I was alive and safe! I knew you would worry, but I +didn't think you'd think me dead. I didn't think _that_ till we got to +Culm, and Dirk and all the rest trembled, and were actually going to +run away from me!" + + "Then you have not been harmed?" said Trafford: "but oh, my boy, +where were you on that awful night?" + + "Safe and sound, with Ned Thorn, at Hastings, Uncle Richard, and not +even dreaming of danger or shipwreck. You see, the furniture was not +ready, and I hadn't found a teacher, and so I stayed. Ned and I went +down to the wharf the night before the 'Gull' was to sail, and carried +a letter to the skipper to give to you, telling you why I couldn't +come; but poor Ben never got here alive, and the letter was lost with +him, I suppose. Oh, Uncle Richard, if I _had_ started,--if the +furniture had been ready--" + + "Thank God it was not!" interrupted Trafford, presently; "he watched +over you, he stayed your coming, and now he has brought you out of the +sea, as it were, to me. Oh, Noll!" + + The boy looked up eagerly. "Have--have you found the Lord Jesus, Uncle +Richard?" he asked. + + Trafford's hands rested tenderly on the boy's head. "Yes," he said, +with a great calm and peace in his voice, "I found him through great +sorrow and grief. I think God led me through all this suffering that +my heart might be softened and turned toward him. And now this Saviour +has brought you back to me!" + + A deep silence followed, full of unutterable joy. Trafford reverently +bent his head, his lips quivering with emotion, and with his nephew's +hands clasped in his, silently thanked God for his goodness, for this +great joy which was come into his life, for this precious lad that was +dead and now was alive again. It seemed as if God had brought him out +of the sea to him. At last Noll said, taking up his explanation where +he had left it off,-- + + "After we had given the letter to the skipper, I thought no more about +it, and Ned and I were busy enough with seeing about the furniture for +a day or two, and we didn't notice the storm, or even think of the +'Gull' being in danger. And Mr. Gray helped me to find a teacher, and +we were so busy with plans that the time passed away before I knew it, +and when I came to go down on the wharf to engage a passage with Ben, +the men said the 'Gull' had never got back from her last trip, and +they were afraid it was lost. Ned didn't believe there had been a +shipwreck, neither did Mr. Gray. He said that most likely the skipper +had been kept by some business, or perhaps the 'Gull' had gone farther +down the coast than usual. Oh, Uncle Richard! we didn't think that +poor Ben was drowned, nor that you thought me wrecked with him." + + Trafford said, "Those were fearful days for me. Go on, go on, Noll." + + "We went down to the wharf every night till another week was gone, and +then, we began to be certain that Ben was either wrecked or sick, and +I began to be anxious to get some word to you. I thought that perhaps +you might be worried about me, though Mr. Gray said that if the 'Gull' +was wrecked anywhere near Culm, you could not help but know I was not +on board. We waited and waited till the three weeks were gone, and +then some of Ben's friends began to talk of going in search of him. +But it was only till last night that they were ready to go, and we +came off before daylight this morning. Oh, the time has seemed so +long, Uncle Richard! but here I am, safe and sound, once more." + + Trafford looked at his nephew as if he could yet hardly believe his +eyes. + + "And you should have seen Dirk and the rest!" continued Noll; "why, he +wouldn't speak to me at first, but was going to run away; but when he +did find that it was really I, he cried like a great child. He said +that you thought me dead,--you can't know how I felt when he said +that, Uncle Richard,--and so Ned and I didn't wait any longer, but ran +all the way here. I can think, now, why you looked so white when I +came in at the door!" + + Trafford stroked the boy's hair, saying, "I never thought to hear the +echoes of your feet again. God knows. Oh, my boy, _you_ can never +know what this night has brought to me. He who led you thither only +can. But whose name did you mention?" + + "Ned's; he came down with me, Uncle Richard, for it's vacation at +Hastings. We came up to the kitchen-door, because Hagar's light shone +so brightly, and what do you think? she threw up her hands and +screamed at the sight of me. But it didn't take long to make her +certain that I was real, and not a vision. And, oh, there's one thing +I'd forgotten! The new teacher is at Culm, waiting for Dirk to come +over with his trunks. It's one of papa's old scholars, Uncle Richard, +and his name is Henry Fields. He worked with papa in the old sea-town +where we lived, and he's come down to work here at Culm among our +fish-folk. I like him very much, and you can't help but like him, +too; and we've brought a cargo of benches and desks all ready to--" + + The library-door began to swing softly open,--not so softly, however, +but that Noll heard and stopped. + + "It's Ned," he said, looking over his shoulder. "Come in!" + + Ned came shyly around to where they were sitting, his usually merry +face sobered by something which he perceived in the faces of his +friends before him. A silence fell upon them here. Ned leaned against +his friend, looking soberly at Trafford's rapt face, and wondering +where all the man's grimness and gloominess had gone. And just then a +sudden thought came into Noll's heart, and he said, looking up +brightly,-- + + "It's a year this very night since I came to you, Uncle Richard! +Don't you remember? What a long, long time!" + + Trafford said, "Yes, I remember. Through all the days since then God +has been teaching me, and he has led me on to this; and, oh! my boy, +the sea may never divide us again, for, though through its dark floods +we go down to death, beyond there is light and God and heaven!" And in +his voice there was peace unutterable. + + * * * * * + + If this Story of a Year, and what it taught, is not already too long, +you may know that a schoolhouse was built at Culm, and that Henry +Fields proved a good and faithful teacher; that a stanch, new "White +Gull" was built, and one of Skipper Ben's sea-loving sons was its +captain; that the Culm children and their parents slowly improved in +more ways than one under the constant, unfailing care and effort of +Trafford and his nephew; that the Rock was not always Noll Trafford's +home, but exchanged for a pleasanter one in Hastings, though the old +stone house was often brightened by his presence, and never got to be +entirely gloomy and deserted again. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Culm Rock, by Glance Gaylord + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CULM ROCK *** + +***** This file should be named 20524.txt or 20524.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/5/2/20524/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, David T. 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