Esther's Charge: A Story for Girls

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER VIII.

  THE CITY OF REFUGE.

  It must not be supposed that the city of refuge was forgotten orneglected all this time.

  Saturday afternoons had always been kept sacred to it, except when someother attraction took the children elsewhere. The changes which hadtaken place on the other days did not affect Saturday to any greatextent.

  Mr. Earle was always up at the Crag on that afternoon, shut up in thelaboratory with Mr. Trelawny. He did not volunteer either drives orsails on that day, and other people were busy too. Esther always had anumber of little Saturday duties to think of; Prissy was safely shut upin the lending library; and the four younger children invariably spentthe leisure time together, and almost as regularly got the oldfisherman's boat and took a trip across to their island.

  But they had kept this a profound secret, and, so far, there had been nodanger of its escaping them. Mr. Polperran had not been told about theisland, but Bertie had had leave to whisper to him that they had a verynice place they went to down by the sea, and he had said it was allright, and he was glad they should play there. For Mr. Polperran was aCornishman born and bred, and he did not wish his children to grow uptimid or dependent. He would have brought them up more robustly had itnot been for the fears and prejudices of his wife, who had lived almostall her previous life in London. As it was, he was quite pleased for hislittle son to have boy companions to teach him bolder sorts of gamesthan he had ever learned at home, and he told Mrs. Polperran not to mindif Milly and Bertie did come back wet and dirty. They were getting goodfrom the salt water and from their companions, and the rest matterednothing.

  So the secret of the island never transpired in that house, and Estheralways thought that Pickle and Puck spent their Saturday afternoons inthe rectory orchard.

  Orders had been issued to the fishermen generally, and Pollard inparticular, that the children were not to be permitted to go out alonein a boat; and had they attempted to embark down at the little quay inthe village, they would have been quickly stopped. But Pickle had hadthe wits to foresee that from the first, and had made his bargain withthe queer, old, half-daft man who lived at the creek, and who was veryglad to let the little gentleman have the use of his boat for a fewhours on Saturday, for the payment of the shilling which Pickle alwaysgave him.

  Pocket-money was plentiful with the two boys, who had come with an amplestore, and who received their usual amount weekly from their aunt. Therewas not much chance of spending it in such a quiet place. Fishing-tackleand sweet stuff from the one village shop absorbed a little, but therewas always a shilling for "Jonah," as they called him, whenever theywanted the boat, and the old fellow was cunning enough not to say a wordabout it, so that nobody in the place knew that the children made apractise of being out on the water alone.

  To be sure, there was not a great deal of risk in this. The boat wasvery safe and heavy; their island was not far away, and was well withinshelter of the bay. They were not strong enough to care to row fartherout to sea, and the weather through the summer had been exceptionallyfine and calm.

  "I wish we could get a nice breezy day," Pickle had often said; "thenwe'd hoist up the sail and have a jolly time. But it never blows onSaturday afternoon. I call it a swindle."

  There was a sail to the boat, and the boys were learning more and moreof the management of a sailing craft. They often went out with Mr. Earlein the _Swan_, and sometimes he would take the tiller and make themmanage the sail, whilst sometimes he would take the sail and set them onto steer. They were growing expert now, and they had never been lackingin boldness from the first. One day Mr. Trelawny came down himself, andPuck was put in charge of the tiller and Pickle of the sheet; andbetween them, with only a little assistance and instruction, theymanaged to get the boat through the water very creditably.

  "You'll make a pair of good jack-tars in time," had been Mr. Trelawny'sencouraging verdict at the end of the voyage; and ever since Pickle andPuck had been burning and yearning for a chance of displaying theirprowess by taking a sail quite on their own account.

  They had begged to have the _Swan_ for their experiment, but had beenforbidden.

  "Don't try to run before you can walk," Mr. Earle had advised. "This isa ticklish coast, and you don't know much about it yet. And though theweather has been very settled, nobody knows what may happen. Sometimes agale of wind gets up just when one expects it least. You'd be in a nicepredicament if that were to happen. You must wait till you're older andstronger before you go sailing alone."

  "I call that rot," Pickle said rather loftily in private to his brotherafterwards; "we could do it perfectly well now, I'm sure."

  But as Pickle was really trying to cure himself of his self-will anddesire to do everything his own way, he did not say anything more abouthaving the _Swan_ to go sailing in. Perhaps he felt that Mr. Earle's"no" was a different sort of thing from his father's, and that coaxingand teasing would be thrown away here. So the two things together kepthim quiet.

  Nevertheless there was a great desire in his mind to show off hisprowess and skill in the art of practical navigation, and it had beenquite a disappointment to him that Saturday after Saturday came andwent, and there was not enough breeze in the bay to fill the sail of"Jonah's" old boat.

  "It seems as if it was just to spite us," he grumbled more than once;"but it'll have to come some day, and then you'll see what you'll see."

  It did not seem much like coming this breathless September afternoon.The sun shone as fiercely as if it were the height of summer. There wasneither a cloud to be seen in the sky nor a breath of air to be felt.

  "It'll be precious hot pulling across," said Puck rather ruefully, "butI suppose we'd better go."

  "Oh yes; and then we can have a jolly bathe, and paddle about all thetime in the pools. Besides, Milly and Bertie can pull a bit now; we cantake turns with those old sweeps."

  Bertie and Milly were always all eagerness to go across. To them theisland was a veritable city of refuge. Prissy could never find themthere, and that was in itself a wonderful boon on holiday afternoons.True, Prissy was generally all the time in the parish room; but therehad been occasions when she had turned up unexpectedly, and hadinterrupted and condemned the most charming games. There was none of thedelicious security from interruption at home that was one of thegreatest charms of the island. And the very fact of going thither bythemselves in a boat was an immense attraction to the rectory children,who were hardly ever taken out upon the water, even when Mr. Trelawnydid offer them a sail in the _Swan_.

  Mrs. Polperran could not conquer her nervous fears for them when out ina boat. She hated the water herself, and feared it for the little ones.She had an idea that Mr. Trelawny was a very headstrong, rash sort ofman, and she almost always found some excuse for declining hisinvitations to her children. If they had known this themselves theywould have been much distressed; but happily they were in ignorance, andsupposed that Mr. Trelawny only cared about Pickle and Puck, whoregarded him in the light of a new relation.

  However, the bliss of these excursions to the island had made awonderful difference in their lives. There was always something to lookforward to all the week. And they had now the delightful sense of havinga place all their own--a real city of refuge, where even Prissy couldnever find them; and they were gradually collecting there amiscellaneous assortment of treasures, keeping in view the possibilitythat they might some day really have to flee to their island home forsafety from some peril, and desirous to have some useful stores laid upthere in readiness.

  Most Saturdays they made some additions to their supplies. They had anold tin box which Pickle had begged from Genefer, and this was hidden ina cleft of the rocks in the little creek which formed their mostsheltered hiding-place. The stores were all hidden away in this box,and kept very well. They tasted the biscuits and the chocolate-stickseach time, to make sure they were keeping all right, and Milly declaredthat they grew "more and more delicious" with the flight of time.

  The he
at was very great to-day upon the water, but when they reached theisland they could find all sorts of nice places to shelter themselvesin. Shoes and stockings were off in a moment, and Milly's skirts weresoon tucked right away, so that she could paddle with the best of them.

  "Oh, I do wish we could live here always, and not have to go home atall!" she cried. "I'd like to sail away to the other side of the world,and live on a coral island, and eat bread-fruit, and have a delicioustime. I wonder how long it would take to get there. I wonder why nobodydoes nice interesting things except in books. Why doesn't Mr. Trelawnygo and see nice places like that when he has a boat of his own, insteadof always living up there in a house and staring at things with anelectric eye?"

  "I don't believe he's got an electric eye," said Puck. "His eyes arejust like everybody else's!"

  "I heard father say he had," said Bertie quickly; "so he must have it,I'm sure."

  "Well, I don't much believe he has," reiterated Puck. "I asked Essie ifhe had only the other day, and she didn't know; and Aunt Saint said shethought it was all nonsense."

  "Perhaps it's Mr. Earle then," said Milly; "but somebody's got one upthere, I know. I think father said they couldn't do all theirexperiments unless one of them had an electric eye."

  "Mr. Earle's eyes are just like other people's when he takes off hisspectacles," returned Puck.

  "I'll tell you what that is," said Pickle, who came up at the moment; "Iwas telling Essie about it only last night. I think she was ratherfrightened. I've been asking lots of things about electricity, and it'sawfully queer sort of stuff--all in volts and things. And you can switchit on and off as you like. I suppose that's what they do with theireyes--sometimes they're like other people's eyes, and sometimes they'reelectric. And you have to have a complete circuit, you know. I thinkthat's what Mr. Earle uses his spectacles for. I think it completes thecircuit."

  "Yes, because they're round," added Puck; and the three younger onesregarded Pickle with looks of respect, as one who has been dabbling deepin the fount of knowledge.

  Suddenly in the midst of their play Pickle broke into a shout oftriumph.

  "Look, look, look!" he cried, and pointed out to sea.

  "What is it?" asked the others, staring, but seeing nothing, till Bertiesuddenly realized his meaning, and clapped his hands in triumph.

  "A breeze! a breeze!" he shouted. "Now we can go sailing! It's coming upbeautifully!"

  Milly began to caper wildly. She had been longing unspeakably toparticipate in the delights of which she had heard. She thought thatsailing on the water must be just the most delightful thing in the wholeworld, and had shed a few tears in private because she had never been inthe _Swan_, and Bertie only once.

  "Oh, come along, come along!" she cried ecstatically. "Can we reallyhave a sail?"

  Her confidence in Pickle was by this time unbounded. He seemed to heralmost as wise and as resourceful as a grown-up person, without all thetiresome prudence that seemed to come with the advance of years. If hetook them they would be as safe as if they were with Mr. Trelawnyhimself, and Pickle's own confidence in his powers was little less.

  Good resolutions were cast to the winds. Perhaps Pickle did not evenknow that this was the case. He had so longed for a breeze which wouldenable him to sail the fisherman's big boat, and it never occurred tohim to regard this desire as a part and parcel of the self-will he hadtried to get the better of.

  He had given up teasing for leave to go out in the _Swan_ alone. Butthat was quite different. She was a fast-sailing boat, and perhapswanted somebody more skilled to manage her properly; but this old tubwas as safe as a house, he was perfectly certain of that. Besides, theyneed not go any distance, but just sail round and round or backwards andforwards in the bay. He knew quite well by this time how to tack and putthe boat's head about. He could manage that old tub as well as "Jonah"himself.

  "Shall we go and find a coral island?" asked Milly, as they tumbled oneover the other in their haste.

  "I--I don't quite know," answered Pickle, not wishful to seem backwardin the spirit of adventure, but rather doubtful as to the course to takefor such a goal. "Perhaps to-day we'd better not go so very far. We canlook for a coral island next time."

  "Shall we take some provisions with us, in case we're wrecked?" askedMilly with beaming face, as though that would be the crowning delight tothe adventure.

  "We might perhaps," said Pickle; "one gets jolly hungry out sailing. Weoften have something to eat when we're out in the _Swan_."

  Milly ran off to the storehouse for supplies, whilst the boys made arush for the boat. Little puffs of wind were coming up from the west,dimpling the water, which had been as smooth as oil, and making it allruffled and pretty.

  The sun, too, began to be obscured by a light film of cloud, and awayover the land great banks of lurid-looking vapor began pilingthemselves slowly up in the sky; but the children were much too busy tothink of looking out for signs like these, nor would they have been muchthe wiser had they noticed them.

  Some Cornish children, no older than Milly and Bertie, might haveguessed from the look of sky and sea, and from the strange, heavyfeeling in the air, that there was going to be a storm. But Mrs.Polperran had managed to bring up her young family in wonderfulignorance of such matters. Bertie had never been allowed to run down tothe shore to play with or amongst the fishermen's children; and so longas the sun was shining they never thought of such a thing as rain.

  There was sunshine still over the sea, though it was not so bright andhot as it had been.

  "Isn't it nice?" cried Milly, who was in a perfect ecstasy. "It isn'ttoo hot now, and there's a lovely little breeze coming up, and it's allso pretty and nice. Here's our basket; there are some cakes left, andI've put in some biscuits. Let's take a drink of water out of thefountain, and then we can go for ever so long."

  The children kept their "fountain" replenished in dry weather from a canthey brought over, filled from the well behind the fisherman's cottage.They liked drinking from the cleft in the rocks, but unless there hadbeen rain quite lately the cleft was apt to be dry. However, theysatisfied their thirst before embarking, and Milly held her breath asshe watched the old sail slowly swelling itself out as the puffs of windcaught it. It was the most entrancing experience to see the island justgliding away from them, as it seemed, for the boat did not appear to bemoving, and yet there was quite a gap between them and it.

  Then the sheet began to draw. Pickle gave a shout of triumph as theyfelt the movement, and saw the little ripple of water round the prow.

  "She's off! she's off!" shouted both the boys in triumph. "Set her headout to sea, Bertie. That's right. Hold her so. Now we shall go. Thewind's fresher away from shore. Oh jolly, jolly, jolly! Don't we goalong?"

  Milly had no words just at first. It was too delightful and wonderful.Here they were actually in a boat of their very own, heading out forthe beautiful green and golden sea lying away ahead of them, sparklingand dimpling in the westering light. They did not so much as glancetowards land, where the masses of black sulphurous-looking clouds werepiling themselves above the tall crags. They only saw the beautiful,shining sea, and felt the bird-like motion of the boat as she rushedthrough the dimpling waves.

  This was something like sailing. No laborious pulling at those heavyoars that moved so slowly through the water, and often hardly seemed tomake the boat move at all; nothing to do but sit still, just holdingsheet and rudder, and watch the water curling away from the bow as theboat pursued her course. When the puffs of wind came up more stronglythey seemed almost to fly, and when they died down a little the sailwould flap for a few minutes against the mast, and then Puck would altertheir course a little, and soon it would be drawing again beautifully.

  They did not care where they went or what they did. They were having aglorious sail, and they were full of delight and triumph. Nobody couldsay now that they could not manage a boat.

  "Only if we tell," said Milly, frankly expressing the thought in words,"perhap
s they'll never let us go again."

  "That is so stupid of people," said Pickle; "they are always like that.If they'd know we went over to our city of refuge alone in a boat, Ibelieve they'd have stopped us; but we never came to any harm, and nowthat we can sail like bricks, and manage a boat quite easily, they'd goon, saying just the same things as when we'd never been out or had anylessons. So it's no good talking; we'd better keep it our secret, likethe island. But now that the windy time of year is coming, we can go outsailing often. We'll have jolly fun, if some stupid old fishermandoesn't see us and tell; but there seems nobody about to-day anyway."

  "I expect it was too hot and bright for fishing," said Milly. "I knowfishermen like dull days or the nights best."

  A low rumble from the shore boomed through the air, and the childrenlooked round.

  "I think it's a thunderstorm over there," said Puck, "but it's jolly andfine out here."

  "There! I saw a flash of lightning come out of the big black cloud!"cried Milly. "It was so pretty. I don't mind lightning when I'm rightaway from it out here. I don't much like it at home. Let's sail awayfrom it, Pickle, right away. It's quite fine the way we're going, and wego so fast. We shan't have it at all. And when mother wonders why we'renot wet or anything, we shall just say it didn't rain where we were.It's like the Israelites and the land of Goshen."

  Pickle looked just a little doubtfully at the weather. The sun wasalmost obscured now, though it still shone over the sea away to the westand south. The wind was coming up in squally gusts behind them, andsending the boat dancing along merrily. It was certainly great funsailing on like that, but the waves were beginning to grow rather biggerout here than they had looked from inside the bay, and when the windcame rushing along, there were sometimes little crests of foam to beseen, and now and then these dashed into the boat.

  "I think, perhaps, we'd better put her about now," he said, with a lookof wise command directed towards Puck; "the storm might come over here,you know, and then we should get very wet--at least if it rained. Youknow how to put her helm round, Puck, don't you? Or shall I come and doit?"

  "Of course I know," answered Puck rather indignantly; "you just managethe sail. It always flaps a great deal when we put her round on theother tack."

  Milly and Bertie, greatly impressed by this nautical language, sat asstill as mice watching their companions. Milly was rather disappointedat hearing they were to go back, but now that the sun was obscured andthe wind getting up, it wasn't quite so nice upon the water, and Bertiewas looking very solemn indeed.

  "You're not frightened, are you?" she whispered.

  "Oh no; only my inside feels funny," he answered, trying to put a braveface on matters. "I don't think I mind going home so very much."

  Milly had no qualms of seasickness such as were troubling Bertie, butshe did think the boat was rocking rather wildly, and the sail seemed tobe flapping and pulling them over, and the water was very near the edgeof the boat, which seemed to be dipping quite down. She gave a littleshriek, and threw herself towards the other side. Pickle was fightingfiercely with the sail, and she went to his assistance, and only just intime.

  "We must get it down," he said; and Milly helped with all her might, sothat in a few more minutes the boat lay rocking on the waves, the sailfurled up round the mast, whilst Bertie called out dismally that thewater was all over his feet, and Pickle told him rather sharply to getthe water can and bail it out as fast as he could.

  "You didn't turn her head right a bit," he said to Puck. "We were nearlycapsized that time."

  "Then it was your fault with the sail," retorted Puck, who was ratherfrightened. "I didn't do anything wrong."

  "Let's go home now," cried Milly, a little piteously, though strugglinghard against her rising fears; "the sun's gone in, and I think it'sgoing to rain, and oh! what a flash of lightning that was!"

  The boom of the thunder almost immediately after was even more alarming.Poor little Bertie, who was feeling very sick and queer, began to cry;and Pickle looked towards the shore, and marveled how they could everhave got all that way from it in such a little time.

  "We can never row back," was the thought in his heart; "we must get thesail up again somehow. We've sailed the _Swan_ backwards and forwards.Why on earth won't this old tub do the same? It must be Puck's fault."

  He saw that the spirit of the party was becoming damped, and he was themore resolved to keep up a bold front himself.

  "We must just pull her round with the sweeps," he said in his commandingway, "and then we'll get the sail up all right. It's only just thetacking that is a bit difficult. We'll be racing home in a jiffy, you'llsee."

  This was consoling to Milly, who was half ashamed of her sudden fears,and now that the boat ceased to rock and plunge so wildly she began torecover her courage; and it was rather grand to be helping Pickle topull the old boat round. She could do that quite well, as well as helpBertie with the bailing out, which he only prosecuted languidly, lookingalmost ready to cry. His face had a sickly greenish hue too, whichrather distressed Milly, but Pickle said,--

  "He's only seasick. Puck felt like that once or twice. He'll be bettersoon."

  When the boat was really headed for the shore, Pickle tried experimentswith the sail; but do as he would, he couldn't make the boat sailtowards land. It would sail away, or it would sail sideways, but towardsshore it would not go; and indeed they seemed to be getting slowlyfarther and farther away, and Bertie suddenly burst into miserablecrying, begging to be taken home, because he was so very poorly.

  Pickle was beginning to wish very sincerely that they had never lefttheir island. He looked back towards it with longing eyes. It would be areal city of refuge now, but alas! it looked almost as far away as themainland.

  "Can't we row to it?" asked Milly, following the direction of his eyes."I'm quite cool now. I'm rather cold. I should like to row if we can'tsail. We got out here so very quickly, it can't take so very long to rowback."

  It seemed the only thing to do, and Pickle consented to try. He took oneoar, and Milly the other. Puck kept the tiller, and put the boat's headfor their city of refuge, whilst Bertie lay along the bottom of theboat, heedless of damp or discomfort, only longing to be at home in hislittle bed.

  "I hope father won't call it being a cockney," he once said pitifully toMilly, "but I can't help it. I do feel so sick. I wish we'd never come."

  "I dare say Cornish boys are sometimes sick at sea," answered Millyconsolingly. She hardly knew whether she wished they had not come ornot. There was something rather exciting in the adventure, and if onlythey could get back to their city of refuge she thought she should bequite glad. It would make them feel that they really were sailors, to beable to manage a boat in a storm.

  Milly had her back to the shore now, and was pulling her oar verymanfully. She thought they seemed to be going very fast through thewater, though the waves were rather bigger than she liked, and seemedsometimes to rise up very near the edge of the boat. Still she thoughtthey seemed to be getting through them very fast, and made up her mindthat they would soon be at their journey's end now. She almost wonderedwhy Puck did not exclaim that they were close in now. He only satholding the tiller with a very solemn expression on his face.

  "The waves are getting very big," he said at last; "I don't much likethe look of them. This boat doesn't swim nicely, like the _Swan_. Theylook as though they'd come in on us every time."

  Then Milly looked over her shoulder, and gave a little cry ofastonishment and dismay.

  "Why, we're farther off than when we started!" she cried.

  "I think we get farther and farther away every minute," said Puck. "Ishould like to pull round, and put up the sail again, and go round theworld like that. We should come to our island again upside down, youknow, and it would be much easier."

  "It's the wind and the tide against us," said Pickle, with a ratheranxious face. "We shall never get home at this rate."

  A sob from Bertie was the only response to this remark
. Milly was tryingto choke back her tears, because she didn't want it cast in her teeththat girls always cried.

  "What can we do?" said Puck.

  "I think we'd better do as you said," answered Pickle--"get her headround, and put up a bit of sail, and run before the wind. I don't thinkthe old boat is safe going against these big waves. She'll be all rightthe other way, and we shall fall in with some ship soon, and they'lltake us on board; or perhaps we shall get to a coral island after all."

  "I'd rather go home," sobbed Bertie; and Milly wondered if it was verysilly of her, but she wanted much more now to be at home than to see acoral island.

  Pickle put on a brave face, for he felt that he was the captain, andmust support the failing courage of his crew; but he began to wish fromthe bottom of his heart that he had not thrown aside his goodresolutions quite so quickly, and that he had never tried to sail a boatbefore Mr. Earle had given him leave.