Rilla of the Lighthouse

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER II. A GIFT FROM THE SEA.

  Sunrise and the memory of the treasure box came at the same time. Rillawas dressed in a twinkling. She did not even stop to peer into the bit ofbroken mirror which Mrs. Sol Dexter had given her, hoping that with itwould go the proverbial seven years of bad luck. Mrs. Sol Dexter kept thegeneral store and postoffice in the fishing village of Tunkett.

  She was absolutely honest, was Mrs. Sol, but not inclined to be generous.If the scales tipped one cranberry too many, out came that cranberry! Shehad never before been known to give anything away, but something whichmight bring bad luck she had been willing to part with.

  It had been a happy day for Rilla, that one, when for the first time shehad acquired a real mirror.

  It was, of course, after the summer season, or she would not have been intown at all. And on that same day her grand-dad had given her a wholequarter to spend just as she wished and she had asked Mrs. Sol Dexter fortwo hair ribbons, one to match the sunrise and one like the green in thehollow of a wave just before it turns over when the sun is shining on it.

  "Queerest gal, that!" Mrs. Dexter confided to her husband, Cap'n Sol, thenext time he came in from one of his sea "v'yages."

  "She must get all them sunset notions from her pa's side. I recollecthearin' he was an artist fellow."

  "Wall," the good-natured man had replied, "if that pore gal gets anycomfort out'n 'em, I'm sure sartin glad. She's little more'n a prisonermost o' the year over thar on Windy Island. Jest because her ma ran off'n' married up wi' that city feller, ol' Ezry Bassett is tarnal sartinthe same thing'll happen to Rilly. But I cal'late them thar city fellars,on the whole, ain't hankerin' to splice up with lighthouse keepers' galsnor grand-gals, neither."

  When Rilla had reached home that never-to-be-forgotten day when she hadpurchased something all by herself and for the very first time, she hadslipped up to her room with the broken mirror and she had tied on both ofthe new hair ribbons, one red and one green. They weren't the shades thatshe had really wanted, but they were the prettiest that Mrs. Sol Dexterhad in stock. Then she gazed long at her reflection in the mirror.Once--just once--her grand-dad had told her that she was the "splittin'image" of her mother, who had died when she was only seventeen.

  "I've allays wished as I had a photygraf of her," Rilla had thought. "NowI can be lookin' in the mirror an' pretendin' it's a picture of mymother, only _she'd_ be lots sweeter lookin'. Mrs. Sol Dexter said as howthe summer folks called _her_ beautiful."

  There was always a wistful, yearning expression in the hazel eyes of thegirl when she thought of her mother.

  But all this had happened the autumn before. Bad luck had _not_ befallenRilla--she didn't even know that a broken mirror was supposed to bringbad luck--and that is probably why it had not done so; for we get, inthis world, what we expect very often, and this little lass, who lived soclose to nature, was always expecting something wonderful to happen andshe found real joy in the simplest things.

  The dog, lying just outside the door, lifted a listening ear the momenthis little mistress had stepped out of bed and he was eagerly waitingwhen she softly opened the door.

  "Sh! Shagsie, ol' dog, don' be barkin'," the girl cautioned. "Grand-dad'sput the light out an' he's gone back to his bunk for 'nother forty winks.You'n I'll have time to see what's in the box. Sh-h! Soft now!"

  The dog's intelligent brown eyes were watching the face of his mistressand he seemed to understand that he must be very quiet. If Muriel tiptoedas she went down the curving flight of steps to the kitchen, so too didShags. As she passed the door of her grand-dad's bedroom she could hearhis even breathing.

  It was not unusual for Rilla and Shags to climb to the top of the cragsto watch the sunrise, and so, even if her grandfather had awakened, hewould have thought nothing of it, but it was not to the highest point ofthe cliff that the girl went.

  Instead, she clambered down what appeared to be a perilous descent, butboth she and the dog were as sure-footed as mountain goats, and they weresoon standing on the out-jutting ledge in front of a small opening whichwas the entrance to her Treasure Cave.

  Eager as the girl was to learn the secret that the box contained, she didnot go in at once, but paused, turning toward the sea. The waves, liftingsnowy crests, caught the dawning glory of the sky. Impulsively shestretched her arms out to the sun.

  There was something sacred to this untaught girl about the rebirth ofeach day, and the glory of the sky and sea was reflected in her radiantupturned face. Only for a brief while did the pageantry last, and theworld--Rilla's world, all that she knew--was again attired in itseveryday garb, sky-blue, sea-green, rock-grey, while over all was theshining sun-gold.

  Stooping, for the cave door was too small to be entered by so tall a girlwere she standing erect, Rilla disappeared from the ledge and Shagsfollowed her. The cave within was larger than one might suppose, and waslighted by wide crevices here and there in its wall of rocks throughwhich rays of sunlight slanted. The continuous roar of the surf, crashingon the rocks below, was somewhat dulled.

  Rilla leaped forward with a little cry of joy.

  "Shags," she called gleefully, "it's still here! 'Twa'n't a dream-boxarter all. I sort o' got to thinkin' in the night it might be." Sheclapped her hands, for there were moments when Rilla was a very littlegirl at heart, much younger than her years, and yet at other times, whenshe was comforting her old grand-dad and soothing away his imaginaryfears, she was far older than fifteen.

  Shags was now permitted to bark his excitement, which he did, capering inpuppy fashion about the banded box of foreign appearance.

  The girl looked at it with her head on one side. "How in time are we toget into it, ol' dog?" she inquired as she stooped to examine the box."'Pears like we'll have to smash it. Here yo', Shags, what's that tag-endyer tuggin' on? Yo-o! It's the answer to the riddle, like's not! Thatstrap's got a buckle on it, an' it's mate's the same. Heave ho! Open shecomes. Easy as sailin' down stream." As the girl spoke she lifted thecover of the box and uttered a cry of mingled joy and amazement.

  "Thunder sakes! Tarnell!" she ejaculated, unconsciously using both of hergrandfather's favorite exclamations at once.

  "Shagsie, ol' dog, will you be lookin'! There's a mirror inside the coveras hasn't a crack in it. Yo-o! It comes out. There now, stood up it's astall as I am." As the girl talked to her interested companion she liftedthe mirror-lined cover and placed it against the wall of the cave.Meanwhile the curious dog was dragging something from the box. Rillaleaped forward to rescue whatever it might be. "Lie down, sir, and mindorders," she commanded. "I'm skipper o' this craft." After rescuing themysterious something which the dog had evidently considered his rightfulshare of the booty, the girl knelt and examined the contents of the box.She then turned glowing eyes toward her comrade, who had minded her andwas watching her intently, his head low on his outstretched paws. "Land aGoshen!" she ejaculated. "Shagsie, ol' dog, what'd yo' think? This herebox is full o' riggin's for a fine lady such as comes from the city forthe summer, 'pears like, though I've never seen 'em close to."

  Awed, and hardly able to believe her eyes, Rilla lifted a truly wonderfulgarment from the trunk--it was silk--and green, sea-green like the heartof a wave just before its foamy crest curls over in the sun.

  It was trimmed with silvery, spangly lace.

  "It's a dress to wear, 'pears like, though thar's not much to it as yo'could call sleeves, an', yo-o! Shagsie, will yo' look? Here's slipperthings! Soft as the moss on the nor'east side o' a rock an' green, wi'silver buckles." Then the girl's excited, merry laughter rang out as shedrew forth another treasure. "Don' tell me yo' don' know what this hereis, Shagsie," she chuckled. "Maybe yo' think it's a green spider-web, but'tisn't; no, sir, it's got a heel and a toe to it! That's a stockin', ol'dog. Now, who'd----" She paused and listened intently. Ringing clearabove the booming crash of the surf she heard her grand-dad calling.Quickly she ran to the opening.

&nb
sp; "Rilly gal, tarnation sakes, whar be you? Never seem to be around messtime lately. The kettle's singin' like a tipsy sailor and 'bout to danceits cap off."

  "Comin', Grand-dad," the girl thrust her head out to reply, in a quietermoment, when a wave was receding; then hastily, but with infinite care,she knelt and smoothed the silken folds of the shimmering green gown,replaced the mirror-lined top, strapped it down and then covered thewhole with an old sail cloth which had been one of Rilla's formerstowed-away treasures.

  If the girl had been excited the night before, she was much more so thisearly morning. However, her grand-dad was preoccupied and did not noticethe flushed cheeks and eager, glowing eyes of his "fust mate." Silentlyhe ate his quarter of apple pie, gulped down a huge cup of steamingcoffee. It was plain to the girl who watched him that he was thinking ofsomething intently.

  Rilla was counting the minutes that would have to elapse before sherevisited the cave, when her grand-dad pushed his armchair back from thetable and arose.

  "Rilly gal," he peered over his spectacles at the girl, "I've got tonavigate to town this mornin'. Oil and supplies are gettin' tarnicky low,'pears like. Equinoxial storms are due in port mos' any day now, so we'llnot put the v'yage off any longer. Fust mate, be gettin' into yersea-goin' togs."

  Muriel's heart sank. "Oh, Grand-daddy, do I _have_ to go?" The piercinggrey eyes under shaggy brows turned toward the girl questioningly. Had heheard aright? Could it be _his_ "gal" begging _not_ to be taken to town,when usually it was right the other way.

  Then he laughed. "What a suspicious ol' sea-dog I am," he ruminated."Mabbe the gal's rigged up some new fancy notion down in that cave o'her'n." Aloud he said heartily. "All right, fust mate, stay anchored ifye want to. I'm thinkin' thar's nothin' on Windy Island to molest ye.Thar's the gun in the corner if yer needin' it, but Shags, here, willprotect ye, won't ye, ol' skipper?"

  The dog leaped alongside as the old man went down the steep, wet stairsthat led to the wharf, near which a dory was floating.

  The girl stood in the open door, and with shaded eyes watched thescudding sailboat until, as was his custom, her grand-dad turned to waveto her as he passed the first buoy.

  There were many buoys, painted in varying bright colors, that the skipperof each incoming fishing smack might have no trouble in locating his ownparticular mooring place. On a moonlighted night, when the sailing boatswere all in, it was indeed a pretty sight to see the flotilla, some newlypainted and others weather-stained, bobbing on the choppy waters of thebay.

  Windy Island, though only a quarter of a mile wide, was nearly a milelong, and protected one of the snuggest little harbors to be found alongthat wild, rugged coast.

  As soon as the kitchen was shipshape, Muriel raced toward the outer edgeof the cliff, calling "Yo-o, come on, Shagsie, ol' dog. We'll cruise backto the cave."

  But Rilla did not enter her Treasure Cave again that day, for in anothermoment, and quite unexpectedly, she was launched upon her very first realadventure.