The Lifeboat

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  THE WIDOW'S COTTAGE.

  "About a thousand ships are wrecked, and nearly a thousand lives arelost on the shores of this country _every year_," was still the burdenof Mrs Foster's dreams when she was aroused by a loud knocking at thedoor of her cottage, and the sound of confused voices and trampling ofmany feet outside.

  "Ho! goodness gracious me, ma'am," cried worthy Mrs Laker, burstinginto her mistress's apartment--"if here ain't a thousand robbers as iscome for to pillidge the ouse an' trample down the garding. It's fromthe hattic winder, I see 'em with the moon, if w'ant the lightenin' aglanshin' on their 'orrid faces as is never shaved nor washed, and it'sbin my dream from the years of unsuspectious hinfancy, as is come for topass now in the days of my womanhood, with dead bodies carryin' too,w'ich is wuss. Ho! dear, wot _shall_ I do!"

  "Go and put on your clothes while I open the door," said Amy Russell,entering hastily at the moment in a state of comparative dishabille,with a shawl thrown round her. "Dear mamma, don't be alarmed; it mustbe a mistake. They cannot mean us any harm, I am certain. May I go andopen the door?"

  "Open the door!" shrieked Mrs Laker in the tone of one almost paralysedby astonishment; "open the door to a thousand robbers with swords, andguns, and blood, and dead bodies!"

  As Mrs Laker was robed in her night-gown, and stood erect, with herarms extended and her hair dishevelled, she looked dreadfully tragic andawful, while these fearful words flowed from her pale lips.

  "Hush, Laker," said Mrs Foster, hastily throwing on her garments withtrembling hands, while she made a strong effort to restrain heragitation, "go, dear Amy, and ask what they want; but don't open thedoor."

  She followed Amy to the landing outside, leaving Mrs Laker, glaring insceptical amazement, in the middle of the room. Presently, Amy washeard downstairs speaking through the key-hole. A man's voice replied;there was a suppressed scream and immediately the outer door wasunlocked, the chain removed, and the bolts withdrawn. This was followedby the heavy tramp of men in the passage below, and a wild shriek fromMrs Foster.

  Mrs Laker, still standing with uplifted arms in the middle of thebedroom, and livid with terror, glared round in search of a place ofrefuge, and gasped horribly. Her eye fell on the bed from which hermistress had issued. With a spring that would have done her credit inthe days of her girlhood, she plunged into it, head first, and rolledherself tight up in the clothes, where she lay, quaking and listeningintently.

  "It's only a cut on the head, and a little blood, ma'am, don't bealarmed," said the gruff voice of Bluenose, as the footsteps ascendedthe stair, and approached the bedroom.

  "Cut" and "blood" were the only words in this speech which made anyimpression on poor Mrs Laker, who trembled so violently that thecurtains around her shook again.

  "Lay him in my bed," said Mrs Foster, in an agitated voice.

  "W'y, the bed's all alive--O!" exclaimed Bluenose, in surprise.

  "O Laker! what _are_ you doing there? get out, quick."

  "Mercy, good men, mercy; I--"

  The sentence was cut short by a wild yell, as her eye fell on the paleand bloody face of Guy. She tumbled, clothes and all, over the side ofthe bed in a dead faint, and rolled, in a confused white heap, to thevery feet of her astounded brother, Captain Bluenose.

  "Well, if this don't beat Trafalgar all to sticks!" exclaimed theCaptain.

  "Come, attend to Guy," said Bax, in a deep, commanding voice.

  He lifted up Mrs Laker and the bed-clothes as if she had been a largewashing, and carried her down to her own apartment,--guided by TommyBogey, who knew the way,--where he placed her in bed, and left her torecover as she best might.

  Bax had taken the precaution to despatch a messenger for a doctor beforethey left the beach, so that Guy's hurt was soon examined, dressed, andpronounced to be a mere trifle which rest would heal in a few days.Indeed, Guy recovered consciousness soon after being brought into thecottage, and told his mother with his own lips that he was "quite well."This, and the doctor's assurances, so relieved the good lady, that sheat once transferred much of her anxious care to the others who had beenwrecked along with her son.

  Lucy was placed in the hands of the sympathetic Amy Russell, andconducted by her to her own room, where she obtained dry clothing. Asfor the others, they dried themselves by the kitchen fire, which wasstirred up vigorously by the now restored and repentant Laker, who alsobusied herself in spreading a repast for the shipwrecked men. MrsFoster did the same for a select few, whom she meant to entertain in theparlour.

  "Who is that handsome sailor," said Amy, as she assisted Lucy Burton todress, "the one, I mean, who came up with Guy?"

  "There were four who came up with Guy," replied Lucy, smiling.

  "True," said Amy, blushing (she blushed easily), "but I mean the verytall, dark man, with the black curling hair."

  "Ah! you mean the man who carried good Mrs Laker downstairs in abundle," said Lucy, with a merry laugh.

  "Yes," cried Amy, echoing the laugh, "who is he?"

  "Why, you ought to know him," said Lucy, with a look of surprise, "heresides near you; at least he was one of the boatmen of your own coast,before he became captain of the `Nancy'. His name is Bax."

  "Bax!" echoed Amy. "Is _he_ Bax? Oh, I know Bax well by name. He is afriend of Guy, and a celebrated man on this coast. He is sometimescalled the Stormy Petrel, because he is always sure to be found on thebeach in the wildest gales; sometimes he is called the Life Preserver,on account of the many lives he has saved. Strange," said Amy musingly,"that I should have pictured him to myself so like what he turns out tobe. He is my _beau-ideal_ of a hero!"

  "He _is_ a hero," said Lucy, with such sudden enthusiasm that her newfriend looked up in her face in surprise. "You do not know," continuedLucy, in some confusion, "that he saved my life not much more thantwenty-four hours ago."

  Amy expressed deep interest in this matter, and begged to hear all aboutit. Lucy, nothing loath, related the event circumstantially; and Amy,gazing earnestly in her beautiful animated countenance, sighed andregarded her with an expression of sad interest,--also with feelingswhich she herself could not understand.

  "But how comes it that you have never seen Bax till to-night?" inquiredLucy, when she had finished her narrative.

  "Because I have not been very long here," said Amy, "and Bax had ceasedto dwell regularly on the coast about the time I was saved, and came tolive with Mrs Foster."

  "Saved!--Mrs Foster!" exclaimed Lucy.

  "Yes, Mrs Foster is not my mother."

  "And Guy is not your brother?" said Lucy, with a glance so quick andearnest, that Amy felt a little confused.

  "No, he is not," said she, "but he saved my life at the end of Ramsgatepier, and ever since then I have lived with his mother."

  It was now Lucy's turn to express deep interest. She begged to have thecircumstances related to her, and Amy, nothing loath, told her how Guyhad plunged into the sea when no one else observed her danger, andcaught her just as she was sinking.

  As Amy told her story with animation, and spoke of Guy, with sparklingeyes, and a rich glow on her fair cheek, Lucy gazed at her with graveinterest, and felt sensations in her breast, which were quite new toher, and altogether incomprehensible.

  Three times had Mrs Laker been sent to knock at Amy's door, and informthe young ladies that supper awaited them, before they completed theirtoilet, and descended to the drawing-room.

  Laker called it supper, because she could not conscientiously give thename of breakfast to a meal extemporised about four o'clock in themorning!

  Mr Burton and Bluenose were already seated at the table. Bax stoodnear the fireplace bending down to Mrs Foster, who was looking up inhis face, shaking his hand, and thanking him, with tears in her eyes,for having saved her son's life! Bax was much perplexed by this view ofthe matter, taken and obstinately held to by the widow.

  "Really, ma'am," said he, with a deprecatory smile, "you are mistaken, Iassure
you. I did not save Guy's life--on the contrary, he saved minethis night; for if he had not jumped well to wind'ard with the line andcaught hold of the old foremast, where Tommy and I were perched like twobirds--"

  "Ha," interrupted Bluenose, bluntly, "you'd both's bin in Davy Jones'locker by this time; for I seed the old stick myself, not three minitsarter, go by the board like the stem of a baccy pipe."

  It was just as Bluenose concluded this speech that the young ladiesentered the room.

  "Come," cried Bax, turning quickly towards Lucy, who advanced first,"here is another witness to the fact. Do try, Miss Burton, to convinceMrs Foster that I did not--"

  Bax paused, for his glance fell at that moment on Amy Russell, whom hehad not observed in the confusion of their first appearance in thecottage.

  "My adopted daughter," said Mrs Foster, taking Amy by the hand andleading her forward; "shake hands with Mr Bax, darling, who has savedGuy's life to-night."

  Bax held Amy's white little hand for one moment as tenderly as if hewere afraid his own iron muscles might injure it.

  "I see," said he, with a smile, "that I must submit to be misrepresenteduntil Guy himself comes to defend me."

  Amy glanced at Lucy and blushed. Lucy glanced at Amy and lookedconfused; then the whole party laughed, and Bluenose said that for hispart he didn't see no savin' o' life one way or other, 'xcepting asregarded the lifeboat, which he wos bound for to say had saved the wholelot of 'em, and that was all about it; whereupon they all sat down tosupper, and the missionary asked a blessing; thanking God for theirrecent deliverance, and praying in a few earnest words for continuedfavour.

  Bluenose was a man of peculiar and decided character. He did not at allrelish his position in the drawing-room when he thought of his sisterMrs Laker supping in the kitchen. Being an impulsive man, he seizedhis cap, and said abruptly to his hostess:

  "I'll tell 'ee wot it is, marm, I aint used to this 'ere sort o' thing.If you'll excudge me, marm, I'll go an' 'ave my snack with Bess i' thekitchen. Bax, there, he's a sort o' gen'leman by natur' as well ashedication; but as for me I'm free to say as I prefers the fo'gs'l tothe cabin--no offence meant. Come along, Tommy, and bring yer pannikinalong with 'ee, lad, you're like a fish out o' water too."

  So saying, Captain Bluenose bowed to the company with what he meant tobe an affable and apologetic air, and quitted the room without waitingfor a reply.

  "Ah, Bluenose," said Mrs Laker, as her brother entered, cap in hand,and seated himself among the men of the "Nancy," who were doing fulljustice to Mrs Foster's hospitality, "I thought ye wouldn't be long inthe parlour, for you aint bin used to 'igh life, an' w'y should you? aswas born of poor but respectible parients, not but that the parients ofthe rich may be respectible also, I don't go for to impinge no one, sitdown, Tommy, my dear child, only think! ee's bin 'alf drownded, an' 'ismother dead only two year next Whitsuntide; sit down, Tommy, wot'll ye'ave?"

  Tommy said he would have a bit of beef-steak pie;--got it, and set towork immediately.

  It may be as well to state here that Mrs Laker was not a married woman,but, having reached a certain age, she deemed it advisable, in order tomaintain the dignity of her character and personal appearance (whichlatter was stout and matronly) to dub herself Mrs--Laker being hermaiden name. This statement involves a further explanation, inasmuch asit establishes the fact that Bluenose ought, in simple justice andpropriety, to have gone by the name of Laker also.

  But on the beach of Deal justice and propriety in regard to names arenot necessarily held in great repute. At least they were not so a fewyears ago. Smuggling, as has been said, was rather prevalent in daysgone by. Indeed, the man who was not a smuggler was an exception to therule, if such a man ever existed. During their night expeditions,boatmen were often under the necessity of addressing each other inhoarse whispers, at times and in circumstances when coast-guard earswere uncommonly acute. Hence, in order to prevent inconvenientrecognition, the men were wont to give each other nicknames, whichnicknames descended frequently to their offspring.

  The father of Captain Bluenose and of Mrs Laker had been a notoriousscamp about the beginning of this century, at which period Deal may besaid to have been in full swing in regard to smuggling and the Frenchwar. The old smuggler was uncommonly well acquainted with the towns ofCalais, Gravelines, Dunkerque, Nieuport, and Ostende--notwithstandingthat they lay in the enemy's country. He had also enough of bad Frenchto enable him to carry on his business, and was addicted to Frenchbrandy. It was the latter circumstance which turned his nose purple;procuring for him, as well as entailing on his son, the name ofBluenose, a name which our Captain certainly did not deserve, seeingthat his nose was fiery red in colour,--perhaps a little too fat to bestyled classic, but, on the whole, a most respectable nose.

  Few of the boatmen of Deal went by their right names; but suchsoubriquets as Doey, Jack Onion, Skys'lyard Dick, Mackerel, Trappy,Rodney Nick, Sugarplum, etcetera, were common enough. Perchance theyare not obsolete at the present day!

  While the crew of the "Nancy" were making merry in the kitchen, theparlour bell rang violently, and Laker disappeared from the scene.

  "You're wanted, Tommy, darling," said the worthy woman, returningpromptly.

  Tommy rose and was ushered into the parlour.

  "Little boy," said Mrs Foster, "my son Guy has sent a message requiringyour attendance. I tried to prevent him seeing you; but he insists onit. Come, I will take you to his room. You must try, child, and notencourage him to talk. It will be bad for him, I fear."

  "Leave us, mother, dear," said Guy, as they entered; "I wish to be alonewith Tommy, only for ten minutes--not longer."

  Mrs Foster tried to remonstrate, but an impatient gesture from her soninduced her to quit the room.

  "You can write, Tommy?"

  "Yes, sir. I--I hope you ain't much hurt, sir?"

  "Oh no!--a mere scratch. It's only the loss of blood that weakens me.I'll be all right in a few days. Now, sit down at that table and take apen. Are you ready?"

  Tommy said that he was, and Guy Foster dictated the following note toMr Denham, of the house of Denham, Crumps, and Company:--

  "Deal.

  "Dear Uncle,--I'm sorry to have to inform you that the `Nancy' hasbecome a total wreck on the Goodwin Sands. The cargo has been entirelylost--also two of the hands.

  "I am at present disabled, from the effects of a blow on the headreceived during the storm. No doubt Bax will be up immediately to giveyou particulars.

  "The cause of the loss of your schooner was, in _my_ opinion,_unseaworthiness of vessel and stores_.

  "Your affectionate nephew, GUY FOSTER."

  "Hallo!" thought Tommy, "that's a stinger!"

  "There," said Guy, as he attached his signature, "fold and address that,and be off with it as fast as you can to the post."

  Tommy vanished in an instant, and was quickly at the post-office, whichstood, at that time, near the centre of the town. He dropped the letterin, and having thus fulfilled his mission, relapsed into that easyswagger or roll that seems to be the natural and characteristic gait ofJack when ashore. He had not proceeded far when the sound of voices indispute attracted his ear. The gale was still at its height, and thenoise occasioned by its whistling among the chimneys and whirling roundstreet corners was so great that the words uttered by the speakers werenot distinguishable. Still there was some peculiarity in the tone whichirresistibly attracted the boy. Perhaps Tommy was unusually curiousthat night; perhaps he was smitten, like Haroun Alraschid, with a desirefor adventure; but whatever was the truth in regard to this, it iscertain that, instead of passing on, as most people would naturally havedone, Tommy approached the place whence the sounds proceeded withcautious steps--keeping as much in the shade of the houses as possible,although owing to the darkness of the night, this latter precaution wasunnecessary.