CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
IN THE GULDEN STRASSE AGAIN.
That was all.
"Sail ho!" shouted Eric in stentorian tones, his voice penetratingthrough the entire valley, and reaching probably the remotest extent ofthe island.
The shout was quite enough for Fritz; for, hardly taking time to dress,he at once rushed down to join his brother on the beach.
"Where is she?" he cried out anxiously, when yet some distance off. Hepanted out the question as he ran.
"Right off the bay!" sang out Eric, in quite as great a state offrenzied excitement. "She's hull down to windward now; but she's risingevery moment on the horizon."
"Where?" repeated Fritz, now alongside of the other. "I can't see her."
"There," said Eric, pointing to a tiny white speck in the distance,which to Fritz's eyes seemed more like the wing of a sea bird thananything else.
"How can you make her out to be the _Pilot's Bride_?" was his nextquery. "I can barely discern a faint spec far away; and that might beanything!"
Eric smiled.
"Himmel!" he cried with an infinite superiority. "What bad sight youlandsmen have, to be sure! Can't you see that she is a barque and issteering straight for the bay. What other vessel, I should like toknow, would be coming here of that description, save the old skipper'sship!"
Fritz made no reply to this unanswerable logic; so, he asked anotherquestion instead.
"What time do you think she'll be near enough to send a boat off, eh,brother? We can't go out to meet her, now, you know."
"No, worse luck!" said Eric. "However, I think, with this breeze,she'll be close to us in a couple of hours' time."
"A couple of hours!" exclaimed Fritz with dismay, the interval, in hispresent excited state of feeling, appearing like an eternity!
"Yes; but, the time will soon pass in watching her," replied the sailorlad. "Look how she rises! There, can't you now see her hull above thewaves?"
Fritz gazed till his eyes were almost blinded, the sun being right inhis face when he looked in the direction of the advancing vessel; but,to his inexperienced eyes, she still seemed as far off as ever.
"I dare say you are right, Eric," he said; "still, I cannot see her hullyet--nor anything indeed but the same little tiny speck I noticed atfirst! However," he added, drawing a deep sigh, "if we only waitpatiently, I suppose she'll arrive in time."
"Everything comes to him who knows how to wait," replied his brother,rather grandiloquently; after which speech the two continued to look outover the shimmering expanse of water, now lit up by the rays of thesteadily rising sun, without interchanging another word. Their thoughtswere too full for speech.
Some two hours later, the _Pilot's Bride_--for it was that vessel,Eric's instinct not having misled him--backed her main-topsail and lay-to off the entrance to the little bay, the gaudy American flag being runup as she came to the wind, and a gun fired.
The brother crusoes were almost mad in their eagerness to get on board.
"What a pity we have no boat!" they both exclaimed together.
They looked as if they could have plunged into the sea, ready dressed asthey were, so as to swim off to the welcome vessel!
Eric waved his handkerchief frantically to and fro.
"The skipper will soon know that something has prevented our coming off,and will send in a boat," he said; and the two then waited impatientlyfor the next act of the stirring nautical drama in which they had sodeep an interest.
In a few minutes, they could see a boat lowered from the side of theship; and, presently, this was pulled towards the shore by four oarsmen,while another individual, whom Eric readily recognised in the distanceas Captain Brown, sat in the stern-sheets, steering the little craft inwhaling fashion with another oar.
"It's the good old skipper!" exclaimed Eric, dancing about and wavinghis hat round his head so wildly that it seemed as if he had taken leaveof his senses. "I can see his jolly old face behind the rowers, aslarge as life!"
Two or three minutes more, and the boat's keel grated on the beach, whenFritz and Eric sprang into the water to greet their old friend.
"Waall, boys!" cried the skipper, "I guess I'm raal downright glad tosee you both ag'in, thet I am--all thet, I reckon. It's a sight forsore eyes to see you lookin' so slick and hearty."
So saying, Captain Brown shook hands with the two in his old,thoroughgoing arm-wrenching fashion, their hands when released seemingto be almost reduced to pulp in the process, through the pressure of hisbrawny fist.
Of course, they then had a long talk together, the brothers recountingall that had happened to them in the past year, Captain Fuller of theschooner _Jane_ having taken to the Cape an account of their doingsduring the preceding twelve months.
"Waal," exclaimed the skipper, when he was showed their little cargo ofsealskins and oil, and told also of the treasure which they had found,"I guess you h'ain't made half so bad a job o' crusoeing, arter all! Ireckon them skins an' He, along o' what you shipped afore, will fetchyou more'n a couple o' thousan' dollars; an' what with them doubloonsyou mention, I guess you'll hev' made a pretty considerable pile fur thetime you've been sealin'!"
There being no object to be gained by the vessel remaining any length oftime at the island--which indeed was the reason that the skipper had notbrought the _Pilot's Bride_ to anchor, preferring to ply on and on infront of the bay, so as to be ready for an instant start--the littleproperty of the brothers was, without further delay, taken on board; andthen, crusoes now no longer, they bade adieu, a long adieu, toInaccessible Island, their abiding place for the past two years.
As the _Pilot's Bride_ filled her sails and cleared the headlands,which, stretching their giant arms across the entrance to the littlebay, soon shut out all view of the valley from their gaze, the lastthing they noticed was their hut, the home of so many long and wearymonths, blazing away in regular bonfire fashion. Master Eric had put amatch to the thatch of the little edifice on crossing its threshold forthe last time!
"There's no fear, however, of this bonfire doing as much mischief as thelast, old fellow!" he said apologetically to Fritz as they gazed backover the ship's stern at the rapidly receding island.
"No," replied the other. "It won't do any particular harm, it is true;but still, I think it was a pity to burn down our little home. We havepassed many pleasant as well as sad hours there, you know, during thelast two years."
"That may be all very true, brother," replied Eric, "but do you knowwhat was my real reason for setting fire to it?"
"No," said Fritz.
"Well then I'll tell you," continued the other. "I couldn't bear tothink that those cheeky penguins should invade it and perhaps make theirnests there after we were gone!"
"What?" exclaimed Fritz, beginning to laugh. "You don't mean to say youhaven't forgiven the poor birds yet for--"
"Stop!" cried Eric, interrupting him. "You know what you agreed to, eh?Let bye-gones be bye-gones!"
"Good," said Fritz; and there ended the matter.
The return voyage of the _Pilot's Bride_ back to America was uneventful,although full enough of incident to the brothers after their enforcedexile; but when the vessel arrived again at her old home port ofProvidence in Rhode Island, of course the two had something more toexcite them in the greeting they received from the cheery and kindly-hearted family of the good old skipper at the shanty on the bay.
The worthy dame, Mrs Brown, welcomed them like sons of her own; while,Miss Celia--declared that Eric had grown quite a man--adding, with atoss of her head, that she "guessed he'd lost nothing of his oldimpudence!"
However, in spite of all the kindness and hospitality of these goodpeople, Fritz and Eric were both too anxious to get home to Lubeck toprolong their stay in the States any longer than was absolutelynecessary; so, as soon as the worthy skipper had managed to converttheir stock of sealskins and oil into hard cash--getting the weighty andold-fashioned doubloons exchanged for a valuable banker's dr
aft, saveone or two which they kept for curiosity's sake--the pair were off andaway again on their way back to Europe by the next--starting NorthGerman steamer from New York.
Before setting out, however, Eric promised to return to Providence erethe following "fall," in time to resume his post of third mate of the_Pilot's Bride_ before she started again on another whaling voyage tothe southern seas.
One more scene, and the story of "The Brother Crusoes" will be "as atale that is told!"
It is Christmas Eve again at Lubeck.
The streets as well as the roofs and exteriors of the houses are coveredwith snow, exhibiting without every appearance of a hard winter; while,within, the interiors are filled with bustling folk, busy with all themyriad and manifold preparations for the coming festival on the morrow.
Mirth, music, and merry-making are everywhere apparent.
In the little old-fashioned house in the Gulden Strasse, where Fritz andEric were first introduced to the readers notice, these cheery signs ofthe festive season are even more prominently displayed than usual; for,are not the long-absent wanderers expected back beneath the old roof-tree once more, and is not their coming anticipated at every hour--nay,almost at any moment?
Aye!
Madame Dort is sitting in her accustomed corner of the stove. She islooking ever so much better in health and younger in appearance than shewas at the time of that sad celebration of the Christmas anniversarythree years ago, detailed in an early chapter of the story; and there isa smile of happiness and content beaming over her face.
The good lady of the house is pretending to be darning a pair ofstockings, which she has taken up to keep her fingers busy; but everynow and then, she lets the work drop from her hands on to her knees, andlooks round the room, as if listening and waiting for some one who willsoon be here.
Madaleine, prettier than ever, clad in a gala dress and with brightribbons in her golden hair, while her rosebud lips are half parted andher blue eyes dancing with joy and excitement, is pacing up and down theroom impatiently. She is too eager to sit still!
Mouser, our old friend the cat, is curled up in a round ball betweenGelert's paws on the rug in front of the stove; while, as for Lorischen,she is bustling in and out of the room, placing things on the well-spread table and then immediately taking them away again, quiteforgetful of what she is about in her absence of mind and anxiety ofexpectancy.
Burgher Jans, too, now and again, keeps popping his head through thedoorway, to ask if "the high, well-born and noble Herren" have yetcome--the little fat man then retiring, with an humble apology forintruding, only to intrude again the next instant!
Madame Dort had received, late that afternoon, a telegram from Fritz,stating that he had reached Bremerhaven; and that he and Eric were justgoing to take the train, hoping to be with them in Lubeck ere nightfall.
Cause enough, is there not, for all this excitement and expectancy inthe household?
Presently, a party of singers pass down the street, singing a plaintiveVolkslieder, that sounds, oh so tender and touching in the frostyevening air; and then, suddenly, there is a sound of footsteps crunchingthe snow on the outside stairway.
Gelert, shaking off poor Mouser's fraternal embrace mostunceremoniously, starts up with a growl, rushing the moment afterwardswith a whine and yelp of joy to the rapidly thrown open door; and, herehe jumps affectionately up upon a stalwart, bearded individual whoenters, trying to lick his face in welcome.
"Fritz!" cries Madaleine.
"Eric!" echoes the mother, the same instant.
"Madaleine!" bursts forth from Fritz's lips; while Eric, close behind,cries out joyously, "Mother--mutterchen--dear little mother mine!"
The long-expected meeting is over, and the "Brother Crusoes" are safe athome again.
Little remains to be told.
Early in the new year, when winter had given place to spring and theearth was budding forth into fresh life, Fritz and Madaleine weremarried. The happy pair live on still with good Madame Dort in thelittle house of the Gulden Strasse as of yore; for, Fritz has settleddown into the old groove he occupied before the war, having gone back torejoin his former employer, Herr Grosschnapper--although, mind you,instead of being only a mere clerk and book-keeper, he is now a partnerin the shipbroker's business:-- the little capital which he and Ericgained in their sealing venture to Inaccessible Island, and which Fritzhas invested in the concern in their joint names, is amply sufficient tomake him a co-proprietor instead of occupying a subordinate position.
And Eric?
Well, the lad is doing well enough.
He went back to Providence at the end of the following summer, as he hadpromised; and, having joined the _Pilot's Bride_, and sailed in hersince, he is now first officer of that staunch old ship--which the fateswill that our old friend the Yankee skipper shall still command.
The last news from Rhode Island, however, records a rumour anent a"splice," to use the nautical phrase, between Master Eric and Miss CeliaBrown; and report has it that when this matrimonial engagement iseffected "the old man" has announced his intention of giving over hisdearly beloved vessel to the entire charge of his son-in-law.
Still, this has not happened yet--Master Eric being yet too young forsuch honours.
Lorischen and Burgher Jans, strange to say, did not make a match of itafter all, the fickle-minded old nurse backing out of the bargaininstead of holding to her promise after the arrival of her young mastersat home.
Gelert is yet to the fore, and as good and brave an old dog as ever,albeit time has robbed him of some of his teeth and made him somewhatless active; but as for Mouser, he does not seem to have "turned ahair." The highly intelligent animal still purrs and fizzes asvigourously as in his youth--occupying his leisure moments, when notafter birds or mice, in basking in the sunshine on the window-ledgeabove the staircase in summer; while, in winter, he curls himself upbetween Gelert's outstretched paws on the hearthrug, in front of theold-fashioned china stove.
The brothers must have the last word; and, here a little sermon mustcome in.
Do you know, if you should ask them their candid opinion, they wouldtell you that, although the idea of playing at Robinson Crusoe may seempleasant enough to those whose only experience of life on a desertisland is derived from what they have read about its romantic featuresin books, persons, like themselves, who know what the real thing is,could narrate a very different story concerning its haps and mishaps,its deadly monotony and dreary solitude, its hopes and its despair!
THE END.
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