WATER-LILIES
A PARTY of people, young and old, sat on the piazza of a seasidehotel one summer morning, discussing plans for the day as theywaited for the mail.
"Hullo! here comes Christie Johnstone," exclaimed one of the youngmen perched on the railing, who was poisoning the fresh air with thesickly scent of a cigarette.
"So 'tis, with 'Flucker, the baddish boy,' in tow, as large aslife," added another, with a pleasant laugh as he turned to look.
The new-comers certainly looked somewhat like Charles Reade'spicturesque pair, and every one watched them with idle interest asthey drew nearer. A tall, robust girl of seventeen, with dark eyesand hair, a fine color on her brown cheek, and vigor in everymovement, came up the rocky path from the beach with a basket oflobsters on one arm, of fish on the other, and a wicker tray ofwater-lilies on her head. The scarlet and silver of the fishcontrasted prettily with the dark blue of her rough dress, and thepile of water flowers made a fitting crown for this bonny youngfish-wife. A sturdy lad of twelve came lurching after her in a pairof very large rubber boots, with a dilapidated straw hat on the backof his head and a pail on either arm.
Straight on went the girl, never turning head or eyes as she passedthe group on the piazza and vanished round the corner, though it wasevident that she heard the laugh the last speech produced, for thecolor deepened in her cheeks and her step quickened. The boy,however, returned the glances bent upon him, and answered the smileswith such a cheerful grin that the youth with the cigarette calledout,--
"Good-morning, Skipper! Where do you hail from?"
"Island, yender," answered the boy, with a gesture of his thumb overhis shoulder.
"Oh, you are the lighthouse-keeper, are you?"
"No, I ain't; me and Gramper's fishermen now."
"Your name is Flucker Johnstone, and your sister's Christie, Ithink?" added the youth, enjoying the amusement of the young ladiesabout him.
"It's Sammy Bowen, and hern's Ruth."
"Have you got a Boaz over there for her?"
"No, we've got a devil-fish, a real whacker."
This unexpected reply produced a roar from the gentlemen, while theboy grinned good-naturedly, though without the least idea what thejoke was. Pretty Miss Ellery, who had been told that she had "arippling laugh," rippled sweetly as she leaned over the railing toask,
"Are those lilies in your pails? I want some if they are for sale."
"Sister'll fetch 'em round when she's left the lobs. I ain't gotnone; this is bait for them fellers." And, as if reminded ofbusiness by the yells of several boys who had just caught sight ofhim, Sammy abruptly weighed anchor and ran before the wind towardthe stable.
"Funny lot, these natives! Act as if they owned the place and are asstupid as their own fish," said the youth in the white yachtingsuit, as he flung away his cigarette end.
"Don't agree with you, Fred. I've known people of this sort all mylife and a finer set of honest, hardworking, independent men I nevermet,--brave as lions and tender as women in spite of their roughways," answered the other young man, who wore blue flannel and had agold band on his cap.
"Sailors and soldiers always stand by one another; so of course yousee the best side of these fellows, Captain. The girls are finecreatures, I grant you; but their good looks don't last long, more'sthe pity!"
"Few women's would with the life they lead, so full of hard work,suspense, and sorrow. No one knows till one is tried, how muchcourage and faith it takes to keep young and happy when the men oneloves are on the great sea," said a quiet, gray-haired lady, as shelaid her hand on the knee of the young man in blue with a look thatmade him smile affectionately at her, with his own brown hand onhers.
"Shouldn't wonder if Ben Bowen was laid up, since the girl bringsthe fish. He's a fine old fellow. I've been to No Man's Land many atime blue-fishing with him; must ask after him," said an elderlygentleman who was pacing to and fro yearning for the morning papers.
"We might go over to the island and have a chowder-party or afish-fry some moonlight night. I haven't been here for severalyears, but it used to be great fun, and I suppose we can do it now,"suggested Miss Ellery with the laugh.
"By Jove, we will! And look up Christie; ask her when she comesround," said Mr. Fred, the youthful dude, untwining his languid legsas if the prospect put a little life into him.
"Of course we pay for any trouble we give; these people will doanything for money," began Miss Ellery; but Captain John, as theycalled the sailor, held up his hand with a warning, "Hush! she'scoming," as Ruth's weather-beaten brown hat turned the corner.
She paused a moment to drop the empty baskets, shake her skirts, andput up a black braid that had fallen down; then, with the air of oneresolved to do a distasteful task as quickly as possible, she cameup the steps, held out the rough basket cover, and said in a clearvoice,--
"Would any of the ladies like some fresh lilies? Ten cents a bunch."
A murmur from the ladies expressed their admiration of the beautifulflowers, and the gentlemen pressed forward to buy and present everybunch with gallant haste. Ruth's eyes shone as the money fell intoher hand, and several voices begged her to bring more lilies whilethey lasted.
"I didn't know the darlings would grow in salt water," said MissEllery, as she fondly gazed upon the cluster Mr. Fred had justoffered her.
"They don't. There's a little fresh-water pond on our island, andthey grow there,--only place for miles round;" and Ruth looked atthe delicate girl in ruffled white lawn and a mull hat, with aglance of mingled pity for her ignorance and admiration for herbeauty.
"How silly of me! I am SUCH a goose;" and Miss Ellery gurgled as shehid her face behind her red parasol.
"Ask about the fish-fry," whispered Mr. Fred, putting his headbehind the rosy screen to assure the pretty creature that he didn'tknow any better himself.
"Oh yes, I will!" and, quite consoled, Miss Ellery called out,"Girl, will you tell me if we can have chowder-parties on your rocksas we used to a few seasons ago?"
"If you bring your own fish. Grandpa is sick and can't get 'em foryou."
"We will provide them, but who will cook them for us? It's suchhorrid work."
"Any one can fry fish! I will if you want me to;" and Ruth halfsmiled, remembering that this girl who shuddered at the idea of porkand a hot frying-pan, used to eat as heartily as any one when thecrisp brown cunners were served up.
"Very good; then we'll engage you as cook, and come over to-night ifit's clear and our fishing prospers. Don't forget a dozen of thefinest lilies for this lady to-morrow morning. Pay you now, may notbe up;" and Mr. Fred dropped a bright silver dollar into the basketwith a patronizing air, intended to impress this rather tooindependent young person with a proper sense of inferiority.
Ruth quietly shook the money out upon the door-mat, and said with asudden sparkle in her black eyes,--
"It's doubtful if I bring any more. Better wait till I do."
"I'm sorry your grandfather is sick. I'll come over and see himby-and-by, and bring the papers if he would like some," said theelderly gentleman as he came up with a friendly nod and realinterest in his face.
"Very much, thank you, sir. He is very feeble now;" and Ruth turnedwith a bright smile to welcome kind Mr. Wallace, who had notforgotten the old man.
"Christie has got a nice little temper of her own, and don't knowhow to treat a fellow when he wants to do her a favor," growled Mr.Fred, pocketing his dollar with a disgusted air.
"She appears to know how to treat a gentleman when HE offers one,"answered Blue Jacket, with a twinkle of the eye as if he enjoyed theother's discomfiture.
"Girls of that class always put on airs if they are the least bitpretty,--so absurd!" said Miss Ellery, pulling up her long gloves asshe glanced at the brown arms of the fisher maiden.
"Girls of any class like to be treated with respect. Modesty inlinsey-woolsey is as sweet as in muslin, my dear, and should be evenmore admired, according to my old-fashioned way of thinking," saidth
e gray-haired lady.
"Hear! hear!" murmured her sailor nephew with an approving nod.
It was evident that Ruth had heard also, as she turned to go, forwith a quick gesture she pulled three great lilies from her hat andlaid them on the old lady's lap, saying with a grateful look, "Thankyou, ma'am."
She had seen Miss Scott hand her bunch to a meek little governesswho had been forgotten, and this was all she had to offer in returnfor the kindness which is so sweet to poor girls whose sensitivepride gets often wounded by trifles like these.
She was going without her baskets when Captain John swung himselfover the railing, and ran after her with them. He touched his cap ashe met her, and was thanked with as bright a smile as that the eldergentleman had received; for his respectful "Miss Bowen" pleased hermuch after the rude "Girl!" and the money tossed to her as if shewere a beggar. When he came back the mail had arrived, and allscattered at once,--Mr. Fred to spend the dollar in more cigarettes,and Captain John to settle carefully in his button-hole thewater-lily Aunt Mary gave him, before both young men went off toplay tennis as if their bread depended on it.
As it bid fair to be a moonlight night, the party of a dozen youngpeople, with Miss Scott and Mr. Wallace to act as matron and admiralof the fleet, set off to the Island about sunset. Fish in abundancehad been caught, and a picnic supper provided to be eaten on therocks when the proper time arrived. They found Sammy, in a cleanblue shirt and a hat less like a Feejee headpiece, willing to do thehonors of the Island, beaming like a freckled young merman as hepaddled out to pull up the boats.
"Fire's all ready for kindlin', and Ruth's slicin' the pertaters.Hope them fish is cleaned?" he added with a face of deep anxiety;for that weary task would fall to him if not already done, and thethought desolated his boyish soul.
"All ready, Sam! Lend a hand with these baskets, and then steer forthe lighthouse; the ladies want to see that first," answered CaptainJohn, as he tossed a stray cookie into Sammy's mouth with a smilethat caused that youth to cleave to him like a burr all the evening.
The young people scattered over the rocks, and hastened to visit thepoints of interest before dark. They climbed the lighthouse tower,and paid Aunt Nabby and Grandpa a call at the weather-beaten littlehouse, where the old woman lent them a mammoth coffee-pot, andpromised that Ruth would "dish up them fish in good shape at eightpunctooal." Then they strolled away to see the fresh-water pondwhere the lilies grew.
"How curious that such a thing should be here right in the middle ofthe salt sea!" said one of the girls, as they stood looking at thequiet pool while the tide dashed high upon the rocks all about them.
"Not more curious than how it is possible for anything so beautifuland pure as one of those lilies to grow from the mud at the bottomof the pond. The ugly yellow ones are not so out of place; but noone cares for them, and they smell horridly," added another girl ina reflective tone.
"Instinct sends the white lily straight up to the sun and air, andthe strong slender stem anchors it to the rich earth below, out ofwhich it has power to draw the nourishment that makes it so lovelyand keeps it spotless--unless slugs and flies and boys spoil it,"added Miss Scott as she watched Mr. Fred poke and splash with hiscane after a half-closed flower.
"The naughty things have all shut up and spoilt the pretty sight;I'm so disappointed," sighed Miss Ellery, surveying the green budswith great disfavor as she had planned to wear some in her hair andact Undine.
"You must come early in the morning if you want to see them at theirbest. I've read somewhere that when the sun first strikes them theyopen rapidly, and it is a lovely sight. I shall try to see it someday if I can get here in time," said Miss Scott.
"How romantic old maids are!" whispered one girl to another.
"So are young ones; hear what Floss Ellery is saying," answered theother; and both giggled under their big hats as they caught thesewords followed by the rippling laugh,--
"All flowers open and show their hearts when the sun shines on themat the right moment."
"I wish human flowers would," murmured Mr. Fred; and then, as ifrather alarmed at his own remark, he added hastily, "I'll get thatbig lily out there and MAKE it bloom for you."
Trusting to an old log that lay in the pond, he went to the end andbent to pull in the half-shut flower; but this too ardent sun wasnot to make it blossom, for his foot slipped and down he went up tohis knees in mud and water.
"Save him! oh, save him!" shrieked Miss Ellery, clutching CaptainJohn, who was laughing like a boy, while the other lads shouted andthe girls added their shrill merriment as poor Fred scrambled to theshore a wreck of the gallant craft that had set sail in spotlesswhite.
"What the deuce shall I do?" he asked in a tone of despair as theyflocked about him to condole even while they laughed.
"Roll up your trousers and borrow Sam's boots. The old lady will dryyour shoes and socks while you are at supper, and have them ready towear home," suggested Captain John, who was used to duckings andmade light of them.
The word "supper" made one carnal-minded youth sniff the air andannounce that he smelt "something good;" and at once every oneturned toward the picnic ground, like chickens hurrying to the barnat feeding-time. Fred vanished into the cottage, and the restgathered about the great fire of driftwood fast turning to clearcoals, over which Ruth was beginning her long hot task. She wore abig apron, a red handkerchief over her head, had her sleeves rolledup, and was so intent on her work that she merely nodded and smiledas the new-comers greeted her with varying degrees of courtesy.
"She looks like a handsome gypsy, with her dark face and that redthing in the firelight. I wish I could paint her," said Miss Scott,who was very young at heart in spite of her fifty years and grayhead.
"So do I, but we can remember it. I do like to see a girl work witha will, even at frying fish. Most of 'em dawdle so at the few thingsthey try to do. There's a piece of energy for you!" and Captain Johnleaned forward from his rocky seat to watch Ruth, who just thencaught up the coffee-pot about to boil over, and with the other handsaved her frying-pan from capsizing on its unsteady bed of coals.
"She is a nice girl, and I'm much interested in her. Mr. Wallacesays he will tell us her story by-and-by if we care to hear it. Hehas known the old man a long time."
"Don't forget to remind him, Aunty. I like a yarn after mess;" andCaptain John went off to bring the first plate of fish to the dearold lady who had been a mother to him for many years.
It was a merry supper, and the moon was up before it ended; foreverything "tasted so good" the hearty young appetites sharpened bysea air were hard to satisfy. When the last cunner had vanished andnothing but olives and oyster crackers remained, the party settledon a sloping rock out of range of the fire, and reposed for a briefperiod to recover from the exertions of the feast, having, like theheroes in the old story, "eaten mightily for the space of an hour."
Mr. Fred in the capacious boots was a never-failing source ofamusement, and consequently somewhat subdued. But Miss Elleryconsoled him, and much food sustained him till his shoes were dry.Ruth remained to clear up, and Sammy to gorge himself on theremnants of "sweet cake" which he could not bear to see wasted. So,when some one proposed telling stories till they were ready to sing,Mr. Wallace was begged to begin.
"It is only something about this island, but you may like to hear itjust now," said the genial old gentleman, settling his handkerchiefover his bald head for fear of cold, and glancing at the attentiveyoung faces grouped about him in the moonlight.
"Some twenty years ago there was a wreck over there on those greatrocks; you fellows have heard about it, so I'll only say that a verybrave sailor, a native of the Port here, swam out with a rope andsaved a dozen men and women. I'll call him Sam. Well, one of thewomen was an English governess, and when the lady she was with wenton her way after the wreck, this pretty girl (who by the way was agood deal hurt trying to save the child she had in charge) was leftbehind to recover, and--"
"Marry the brave sailor of c
ourse," cried one of the girls.
"Exactly! and a very happy pair they were. She had no family whowanted her at home; her father had been a clergyman, I believe, andshe was well born, but Sam was a fine fellow and earned his livinghonestly, fishing off the Banks, as half the men do here. Well, theywere very happy, had two children, and were saving up a bit, whenpoor Sam and two brothers were lost in one of the great storms whichnow and then make widows and orphans by the dozen. It killed thewife; but Sam's father, who kept the lighthouse here then, took thepoor children and supported them for ten years. The boy was a merebaby; the girl a fine creature, brave like her father, handsome likeher mother, and with a good deal of the lady about her, though everyone didn't find it out."
"Ahem!" cried the sharp girl, who began to understand the point ofthe story now, but would not spoil it, as the others seemed still inthe dark, though Miss Scott was smiling, and Captain John staringhard at the old gentleman in the blue silk nightcap.
"Got a fly in your throat?" asked a neighbor; but Kate only laughedand begged pardon for interrupting.
"There's not much more; only that affair was rather romantic, andone can't help wondering how the children turned out. Storms seem tohave been their doom, for in the terrible one we had two wintersago, the old lighthouse keeper had a bad fall on the icy rocks, andif it had not been for the girl, the light would have gone out andmore ships been lost on this dangerous point. The keeper's mate hadgone ashore and couldn't get back for two days, the gale raged sofiercely; but he knew Ben could get on without him, as he had thegirl and boy over for a visit. In winter they lived with a friendand went to school at the Port. It would have been all right if Benhadn't broken his ribs. But he was a stout old salt; so he told thegirl what to do, and she did it, while the boy waited on the sickman. For two days and nights that brave creature lived in the tower,that often rocked as if it would come down, while the sleet and snowdimmed the lantern, and sea-birds were beaten to death against theglass. But the light burned steadily, and people said, 'All iswell,' as ships steered away in time, when the clear light warnedthem of danger, and grateful sailors blessed the hands that kept itburning faithfully."
"I hope she got rewarded," cried an eager voice, as the story-tellerpaused for breath.
"'I only did my duty; that is reward enough,' she said, when some ofthe rich men at the Port heard of it and sent her money and thanks.She took the money, however, for Ben had to give up the place, beingtoo lame to do the work. He earns his living by fishing now, andputs away most of his pension for the children. He won't last long,and then they must take care of themselves; for the old woman is norelation, and the girl is too proud to hunt up the forgetful Englishfriends, if they have any. But I don't fear for her; a brave lasslike that will make her own way anywhere."
"Is that all?" asked several voices, as Mr. Wallace leaned back andfanned himself with his hat.
"That's all of the first and second parts; the third is yet to come.When I know it, I'll tell you; perhaps next summer, if we meet hereagain."
"Then you know the girl? What is she doing now?" asked Miss Ellery,who had lost a part of the story as she sat in a shadowy nook withthe pensive Fred.
"We all know her. She is washing a coffee-pot at this moment, Ibelieve;" and Mr. Wallace pointed to a figure on the beach,energetically shaking a large tin article that shone in themoonlight.
"Ruth? Really? How romantic and interesting!" exclaimed Miss Ellery,who was just of the age, as were most of the other girls, to enjoytales of this sort and imagine sensational denouements.
"There is a great deal of untold romance in the lives of thesetoilers of the sea, and I am sure this good girl will find herreward for the care she takes of the old man and the boy. It costsher something, I've discovered, for she wants an education, andcould get it if she left this poor place and lived for herself; butshe won't go, and works hard to get money for Grandpa's comfort,instead of buying the books she longs for. I think, young ladies,that there is real heroism in cheerfully selling lilies and fryingfish for duty's sake when one longs to be studying, and enjoying alittle of the youth that comes but once," said Mr. Wallace.
"Oh dear, yes, so nice of her! We might take up a contribution forher when we get home. I'll head the paper with pleasure and give allI can afford, for it must be so horrid to be ignorant at her age. Idare say the poor thing can't even read; just fancy!" and MissEllery clasped her hands with a sigh of pity.
"Very few girls can read fit to be heard now-a-days," murmured MissScott.
"Don't let them affront her with their money; she will fling it intheir faces as she did that donkey's dollar. You see to her in yournice, delicate way, Aunty, and give her a lift if she will let you,"whispered Captain John in the old lady's ear.
"Don't waste your pity, Miss Florence. Ruth reads a newspaper betterthan any woman I ever knew. I've heard her doing it to the old man,getting through shipping news, money-market, and politics in finestyle. I wouldn't offer her money if I were you, though it is a kindthought. These people have an honest pride in earning things forthemselves, and I respect them for it," added Mr. Wallace.
"Dear me! I should as soon think of a sand skipper having pride asone of these fishy folks in this stupid little place," observed Mr.Fred, moving his legs into the shadow as the creeping moonlightbegan to reveal the hideous boots.
"Why not? I think they have more to be proud of, these brave,honest, independent people, than many who never earn a cent andswell round on the money their fathers made out of pork, rum,or--any other rather unpleasant or disreputable business," saidCaptain John, with the twinkle in his eye, as he changed the end ofhis sentence, for the word "pickles" was on his lips when AuntMary's quick touch checked it. Some saucy girl laughed, and Mr. Fredsquirmed, for it was well known that his respectable grandfatherwhom he never mentioned had made his large fortune in apickle-factory.
"We all rise from the mud in one sense, and all may be handsomeflowers if we choose before we go back, after blooming, to ripen ourseeds at the bottom of the water where we began," said Miss Scott'srefined voice, sounding softly after the masculine ones.
"I like that idea! Thank you, Aunt Mary, for giving me such a prettyfancy to add to my love for water-lilies. I shall remember it, andtry to be a lovely one, not a bit ashamed to own that I came fromhonest farmer stock," exclaimed the thoughtful girl who had learnedto know and love the sweet, wise woman who was so motherly to allgirls.
"Hear! hear!" cried Captain John, heartily; for he was very proud ofhis own brave name kept clean and bright through a long line ofsailor kin.
"Now let us sing or we shall have no time," suggested Miss Ellery,who warbled as well as rippled, and did not wish to lose thisopportunity of singing certain sentimental songs appropriate to thehour.
So they tuned their pipes and made "music in the air" for an hour,to the great delight of Sammy, who joined in every song, and waseasily persuaded to give sundry nautical melodies in a shrill smallvoice which convulsed his hearers with merriment.
"Ruth sings awful well, but she won't afore folks," he said, as hepaused after a roaring ditty.
"She will for me;" and Mr. Wallace went slowly up to the rock notfar away, where Ruth sat alone listening to the music as she restedafter her long day's work.
"Such airs!" said Miss Ellery, in a sharp tone; for her "Wind of theSummer Night" had not gone well, owing to a too copious supper."Posing for Lorelei," she added, as Ruth began to sing, glad tooblige the kind old gentleman. They expected some queer ballad ordroning hymn, and were surprised when a clear sweet voice gave them"The Three Fishers" and "Mary on the Sands of Dee" with a simplepathos that made real music-lovers thrill with pleasure, and filledseveral pairs of eyes with tears.
"More, please, more!" called Captain John, as she paused; and as ifencouraged by the hearty applause her one gift excited, she sang onas easily as a bird till her small store was exhausted.
"I call THAT music," said Miss Scott, as she wiped her eyes with asigh of satisfaction. "
It comes from the heart and goes to theheart, as it should. Now we don't want anything else, and had bettergo home while the spell lasts."
Most of the party followed her example, and went to thank and saygood-night to Ruth, who felt as rich and happy as a queen with themoney Mr. Wallace had slipped into her pocket, and the pleasurewhich even this short glimpse of a higher, happier life had broughther hungry nature.
As the boats floated away, leaving her alone on the shore, she senther farewell ringing over the water in the words of the old song, "ALife on the Ocean Wave;" and every one joined in it with a will,especially Mr. Wallace and Captain John; and so the evening picnicended tunefully and pleasantly for all, and was long remembered byseveral.
After that day many "good times" came to Ruth and Sammy; and evenpoor old Grandpa had his share, finding the last summer of his lifevery smooth sailing as he slowly drifted into port. It seemed quitenatural that Captain John, being a sailor, should like to go andread and "yarn" with the old fisherman; so no one wondered when hefell into the way of rowing over to the Island very often with hispocket full of newspapers, and whiling away the long hours in thelittle house as full of sea smells and salt breezes as a shell onthe shore.
Miss Scott also took a fancy to go with her nephew; for, being anardent botanist, she discovered that the Island possessed manyplants which she could not find on the rocky point of land where thehotel and cottages stood. The fresh-water pond was her especialdelight, and it became a sort of joke to ask, when she came homebrown and beaming with her treasures in tin boxes, bottles, andbunches,--
"Well, Aunt Mary, have you seen the water-lilies bloom yet?" andshe always answered with that wise smile of hers,--
"Not yet, but I'm biding my time, and am watching a very fine onewith especial interest. When the right moment comes, it will bloomand show its golden heart to me, I hope."
Ruth never quite knew how it came about, but books seemed to findtheir way to the Island and stay there, to her great delight. Ademand for lilies sprang up, and when their day was overmarsh-rosemary became the rage. Sammy found a market for all theshells and gulls' wings he could furnish, and certain oldcuriosities brought from many voyages were sold for sums which addedmany comforts to the old sailor's last cruise.
Now the daily row to the Point was a pleasure, not a trial, toRuth,--for Mr. Wallace was always ready with a kind word or gift,the ladies nodded as she passed, and asked how the old Skipper wasto-day; Miss Scott often told her to stop at the cottage for somenew book or a moment's chat on her way to the boat, and Captain Johnhelped Sammy with his fishing so much that the baskets were alwaysfull when they came home.
All this help and friendliness put a wonderful energy and sweetnessinto Ruth's hard life, and made her work seem light, her patientwaiting for freedom easier to bear cheerfully. She sang as she stoodover her wash-tub, cheered the long nights of watching with theprecious books, and found the few moments of rest that came to herwhen the day's work was done very pleasant, as she sat on her rock,watching the lights from the Point, catching the sound of gay musicas the young people danced, and thinking over the delightful talksshe had with Miss Scott. Perhaps the presence of a blue jacket inGrandpa's little bedroom, the sight of a friendly brown face smilingwhen she came in, and the sonorous murmur of a man's voice readingaloud, added a charm to the girl's humdrum life. She was tooinnocent and frank to deny that she enjoyed these new friends, andwelcomed both with the same eagerness, saw both go with the sameregret, and often wondered how she ever had got on without them.
But the modest fisher-maiden never dreamed of any warmer feelingthan kindness on the one side and gratitude on the other; and thisunconsciousness was her greatest charm, especially to Captain John,who hated coquettes, and shunned the silly girls who wasted time inidle flirtation when they had far better and wholesomer pastimes toenjoy. The handsome sailor was a favorite, being handy at all sortsof fun, and the oldest of the young men at the Point. He was verycourteous in his hearty way to every woman he met, from thestateliest dowager to the dowdiest waiter-girl, but devoted himselfentirely to Aunt Mary, and seemed to have no eyes for younger fairerfaces.
"He must have a sweetheart over the sea somewhere," the damsels saidamong themselves, as they watched him pace the long piazzas alone,or saw him swinging in his hammock with eyes dreamily fixed on theblue bay before him.
Miss Scott only smiled when curious questions were asked her, andsaid she hoped John would find his mate some time, for he deservedthe best wife in the world, having been a good son and an honest boyfor six-and-twenty years.
"What is it, Captain,--a steamer?" asked Mr. Fred, as he came by thecottage one August afternoon, with his usual escort of girls, alltalking at once about some very interesting affair.
"Only a sail-boat; no steamers to-day," answered Captain John,dropping the glass from his eye with a start.
"Can you see people on the Island with that thing? We want to knowif Ruth is at home, because if she isn't we can't waste time goingover," said Miss Ellery, with her sweetest smile.
"I think not. That boat is Sammy's, and as there is a speck of redaboard, I fancy Miss Ruth is with him. They are coming this way, soyou can hail them if you like," answered the sailor, with "a speckof red" on his own sunburnt cheek if any one had cared to look.
"Then we'll wait here if we may. We ordered her to bring us aquantity of bulrushes and flowers for our tableaux to-night, and wewant her to be Rebecca at the well. She is so dark, and with herhair down, and gold bangles and scarlet shawls, I think she would donicely. It takes so long to arrange the 'Lily Maid of Astolat' weMUST have an easy one to come just before that, and the boys arewild to make a camel of themselves, so we planned this. Won't you beJacob or Abraham or whoever the man with the bracelets was?" askedMiss Ellery, as they all settled on the steps in the free-and-easyway which prevailed at the Point.
"No, thank you, I don't act. Used to dance hornpipes in my youngdays, but gave up that sort of thing some time ago."
"How unfortunate! Every one acts; it's all the fashion," began MissEllery, rolling up her blue eyes imploringly.
"So I see; but I never cared much for theatricals, I like naturalthings better."
"How unkind you are! I quite depended on you for that, since youwouldn't be a corsair."
"Fred's the man for such fun. He's going to startle the crowd with aregular Captain Kidd rig, pistols and cutlasses enough for a wholecrew, and a terrific beard."
"I know Ruth won't do it, Floss, for she looked amazed when I showedher my Undine costume, and told her what I wanted the sea-weed for.'Why, you won't stand before all those folks dressed that way, willyou?' she said, as much scandalized as if she'd never seen alow-necked dress and silk stockings before;" and Miss Perry tossedher head with an air of pity for a girl who could be surprised atthe display of a pretty neck and arms and ankles.
"We'll HIRE her, then; she's a mercenary wretch and will do anythingfor money. I won't be scrambled into my boat in a hurry, and we MUSThave Rebecca because I've borrowed a fine pitcher and promised theboys their camel," said Miss Ellery, who considered herself thequeen of the place and ruled like one, in virtue of being theprettiest girl there and the richest.
"She has landed, I think, for the boat is off again to the wharf.Better run down and help her with the bulrushes, Fred, and the restof the stuff you ordered," suggested Captain John, longing to gohimself but kept by his duty as host, Aunt Mary being asleepupstairs.
"Too tired. Won't hurt her; she's used to work, and we mustn'tpamper her up, as old ladies say," answered Mr. Fred, enjoying hisfavorite lounge on the grass.
"I wouldn't ask her to act, if you'll allow me to say so," saidCaptain John, in his quiet way. "That sort of thing might unsettleher and make her discontented. She steers that little craft overthere and is happy now; let her shape her own course, and rememberit isn't well to talk to the man at the wheel."
Miss Perry stared; Miss Ray, the sharp girl, nodded, and Miss Ellerysaid petulantly,--
> "As if it mattered what SHE thought or said or did! It's her placeto be useful if we want her, and we needn't worry about spoiling agirl like that. She can't be any prouder or more saucy than she is,and I shall ask her if only to see the airs she will put on."
As she spoke Ruth came up the sandy path from the beach laden withrushes and weeds, sun-flowers and shells, looking warm and tiredbut more picturesque than ever, in her blue gown and the redhandkerchief she wore since her old hat blew away. Seeing the partyon the cottage steps, she stopped to ask if the things were right,and Miss Ellery at once made her request in a commanding tone whichcaused Ruth to grow very straight and cool and sober all at once,and answer decidedly,--
"I couldn't anyway."
"Why not?"
"Well, one reason is I don't think it's right to act things out ofthe Bible just to show off and amuse folks."
"The idea of minding!" and Miss Ellery frowned, adding angrily, "Wewill pay you for it. I find people will do anything for money downhere."
"We are poor and need it, and this is our best time to make it. I'ddo most anything to earn a little, but not that;" and Ruth looked asproud as the young lady herself.
"Then we'll say no more if you are too elegant to do what WE don'tmind at all. I'll pay you for this stuff now, as I ordered it, andyou needn't bring me any more. How much do I owe you?" asked theoffended beauty, taking out her purse in a pet.
"Nothing. I'm glad to oblige the ladies if I can, for they have beenvery kind to me. Perhaps if you knew why I want to earn money, you'dunderstand me better. Grandpa can't last long, and I don't want thetown to bury him. I'm working and saving so he can be burieddecently, as he wants to be, not like a pauper."
There was something in Ruth's face and voice as she said this,standing there shabby, tired, and heavy-laden, yet honest, dutifuland patient for love's sake, that touched the hearts of those wholooked and listened; but she left no time for any answer, for withthe last word she went on quickly, as if to hide the tears thatdimmed her clear eyes and the quiver of her lips.
"Floss, how could you!" cried Miss Ray, and ran to take the sheaf ofbulrushes from Ruth's arms, followed by the rest, all ashamed andrepentant now that a word had shown them the hard life going onbeside their idle, care-free ones.
Captain John longed to follow, but walked into the house, growlingto himself with a grim look,--
"That girl has no more heart than a butterfly, and I'd like to seeher squirm on a pin! Poor Ruth! we'll settle that matter, and buryold Ben like an admiral, hang me if we don't!"
He was so busy talking the affair over with Aunt Mary that he didnot see the girl flit by to wait for her boat on the beach, havingsteadily refused the money offered her, though she accepted theapologies in the kindest spirit.
The beach at this hour of the day was left to the nurses and maidswho bathed and gossiped while the little people played in the sandor paddled in the sea. Several were splashing about, and one Germangoverness was scolding violently because while she was in thebath-house her charge, a little girl of six, had rashly ventured outin a flat-bottomed tub, as they called the small boats used by thegentlemen to reach the yachts anchored in deep water.
Ruth saw the child's danger at a glance, for the tide was going out,carrying the frail cockleshell rapidly away, while the child riskedan upset every moment by stretching her arms to the women on theshore and calling them to help her.
None dared to try, but all stood and wrung their hands, screaminglike sea-gulls, till the girl, throwing off shoes and heavy skirtplunged in, calling cheerily, "Sit still! I'll come and get you,Milly!"
She could swim like a fish, but encumbered with her clothes andweary with an unusually hard day's work, she soon found that she didnot gain as rapidly as she expected upon the receding boat. She didnot lose courage, but a thrill of anxiety shot through her as shefelt her breath grow short, her limbs heavy, and the tide sweep herfarther and farther from the shore.
"If they would only stop screaming and go for help, I could keep upand push the boat in; but the child will be out presently and thenwe are lost, for I can't get back with her, I'm afraid."
As these thoughts passed through her mind Ruth was swimming stoutly,and trying by cheerful words to keep the frightened child fromrisking their main chance of safety. A few more strokes and shewould reach the boat, rest a moment, then, clinging to it, push itleisurely to shore. Feeling that the danger was over, she hurried onand was just putting up her hands to seize the frail raft and gether breath when Milly, thinking she was to be taken in her arms,leaned forward. In rushed the water, down went the boat, and outsplashed the screaming child to cling to Ruth with the desperateclutch she dreaded.
Both went under for a moment, but rose again; and with all her witssharpened by the peril of the moment, Ruth cried, as she keptherself afloat,--
"On my back, quick! quick! Don't touch my arms; hold tight to myhair, and keep still."
Not realizing all the danger, and full of faith in Ruth's power todo anything, after the feats of diving and floating she had seen herperform, Milly scrambled up as often before, and clung splutteringand gasping to Ruth's strong shoulders. So burdened, and consciousof fast-failing strength, Ruth turned toward the shore, and bentevery power of mind and body to her task. How far away it seemed!how still the women were,--not one even venturing out a little wayto help her, and no man in sight! Her heart seemed to stop beating,her temples throbbed, her breath was checked by the clinging arms,and the child, seemed to grow heavier every moment.
"I'll do what I can, but, oh, why don't some one come?"
That was the last thought Ruth was conscious of, as she panted andploughed slowly back, with such a set white face and wide eyes fixedon the flag that fluttered from the nearest cottage, that it was nowonder the women grew still as they watched her. One good Catholicnurse fell on her knees to pray; the maids cried, the governessmurmured, "Mein Gott, I am lost if the child go drowned!" and clearand sweet came the sound of Captain John's whistle as he stood onhis piazza waiting to row Ruth home.
They were nearly in, a few more strokes and she could touch thebottom, when suddenly all grew black before her eyes, andwhispering, "I'll float. Call, Milly, and don't mind me," Ruthturned over, still holding the child fast, and with nothing but herface out of water, feebly struggled on.
"Come and get me! She's going down! Oh, come, quick!" called thechild in a tone of such distress that the selfish German bestirredherself at last, and began to wade cautiously in. Seeing help athand, brave little Milly soon let go, and struck out like anenergetic young frog, while Ruth, quite spent, sank quietly down,with a dim sense that her last duty was done and rest had come.
The shrill cries of the women when they saw the steady white facedisappear and rise no more, reached Captain John's ear, and sent himflying down the path, sure that some one was in danger.
"Ruth--gone down--out there!" was all he caught, as many voicestried to tell the tale; and waiting for no more, he threw off hatand coat, and dashed into the sea as if ready to search the Atlantictill he found her.
She was safe in a moment, and pausing only to send one girl flyingfor the doctor, he carried his streaming burden straight home toAunt Mary, who had her between blankets before a soul arrived, andwas rubbing for dear life while John fired up the spirit lamp forhot brandy and water, with hands that trembled as he splashed aboutlike an agitated Newfoundland fresh from a swim.
Ruth was soon conscious, but too much exhausted to do or sayanything, and lay quietly suffering the discomforts of resuscitationtill she fell asleep.
"Is Milly safe?" was all she asked, and being assured that the childwas in her mother's arms, and Sammy had gone to tell Grandpa allabout it, she smiled and shut her eyes with a whispered, "Then it'sall right, thank God!"
All that evening Captain John paced the piazza, and warned away theeager callers, who flocked down to ask about the heroine of thehour; for she was more interesting than Undine, the Lily Maid, orany of the pretty creatures att
itudinizing behind the red curtainsin the hot hotel parlor. All that night Aunt Mary watched the deepsleep that restored the girl, and now and then crept out to tell hernephew there was nothing to fear for one so strong and healthful.And all night Ruth dreamed strange dreams, some weird and dim, somefull of pain and fear; but as the fever of reaction passed away,lovely visions of a happy place came to her, where faces she lovedwere near, and rest, and all she longed for was hers at last. Soclear and beautiful was this dream that she waked in the early dawnto lie and think of it, with such a look of peace upon her face thatAunt Mary could not but kiss it tenderly when she came in to see ifall was well.
"How are you, dear? Has this nice long sleep set you up again as Ihoped?"
"Oh yes, I'm quite well, thank you, and I must go home. Grandpa willworry so till he sees me," answered Ruth, sitting up with her wethair on her shoulders, and a little shiver of pain as she stretchedher tired arms.
"Not yet, my dear; rest another hour or two and have some breakfast.Then, if you like, John shall take you home before any one comes toplague you with idle questions. I'm not going to say a word, exceptthat I'm proud of my brave girl, and mean to take care of her if shewill let me."
With that and a motherly embrace, the old lady bustled away to stirup her maid and wake John from his first nap with the smell ofcoffee, a most unromantic but satisfying perfume to all the wearywatchers in the house.
An hour later, dressed in Miss Scott's gray wrapper and rose-coloredshawl, Ruth came slowly to the beach leaning on Captain John's arm,while Aunt Mary waved her napkin from the rocks above, and sent kindmessages after them as they pushed off.
It was the loveliest hour of all the day. The sun had not yet risen,but sea and sky were rosy with the flush of dawn; the small wavesrippled up the sand, the wind blew fresh and fragrant from hayfieldsfar away, and in the grove the birds were singing, as they only singat peep of day. A still, soft, happy time before the work and worryof the world began, the peaceful moment which is so precious tothose who have learned to love its balm and consecrate its beautywith their prayers.
Ruth sat silent, looking about her as if she saw a new heaven andearth, and had no words in which to tell the feeling that made hereyes so soft, sent the fresh color back into her cheeks, and touchedher lips with something sweeter than a smile.
Captain John rowed very slowly, watching her with a new expressionin his face; and when she drew a long breath, a happy sort of sigh,he leaned forward to ask, as if he knew what brought it,--
"You are glad to be alive, Ruth?"
"Oh, so glad! I didn't want to die; life's very pleasant now," sheanswered, with her frank eyes meeting his so gratefully.
"Even though it's hard?"
"It's easier lately; you and dear Miss Mary have helped so much, Isee my way clear, and mean to go right on, real brave and cheerful,sure I'll get my wish at last."
"So do I!" and Captain John laughed a queer, happy laugh, as he bentto his oars again, with the look of a man who knew where he wasgoing and longed to get there as soon as possible.
"I hope you will. I wish I could help anyway to pay for all you'vedone for me. I know you don't want to be thanked for fishing me up,but I mean to do it all the same, if I can, some time;" and Ruth'svoice was full of tender energy as she looked down into the deepgreen water where her life would have ended but for him.
"What did you think of when you went down so quietly? Those womensaid you never called for help once."
"I had no breath to call. I knew you were near, I hoped you'd come,and I thought of poor Grandpa and Sammy as I gave up and seemed togo to sleep."
A very simple answer, but it made Captain John beam with delight;and the morning red seemed to glow all over his brown face as herowed across the quiet bay, looking at Ruth sitting opposite, sochanged by the soft becoming colors of her dress, the late danger,and the dreams that still lingered in her mind, making it hard tofeel that she was the same girl who went that way only a day ago.
Presently the Captain spoke again in a tone that was both eager andanxious,--
"I'm glad my idle summer hasn't been quite wasted. It's over now,and I'm off in a few days for a year's cruise, you know."
"Yes, Miss Mary told me you were going soon. I'll miss you both, butmaybe you'll come next year?"
"I will, please God!"
"So will I; for even if I get away this fall, I'd love to come againin summer and rest a little while, no matter what I find to do."
"Come and stay with Aunt Mary if this home is gone. I shall wantSammy next time. I've settled that with the Skipper, you know, andI'll take good care of the little chap. He's not much younger than Iwas when I shipped for my first voyage. You'll let him go?"
"Anywhere with you. He's set his heart on being a sailor, andGrandpa likes it. All our men are, and I'd be one if I were a boy. Ilove the sea so, I couldn't be happy long away from it."
"Even though it nearly drowned you?"
"Yes, I'd rather die that way than any other. But it was my fault; Ishouldn't have failed if I hadn't been so tired. I've often swumfarther; but I'd been three hours in the marsh getting those thingsfor the girls, and it was washing-day, and I'd been up nearly allnight with Grandpa; so don't blame the sea, please, Captain John."
"You should have called me; I was waiting for you, Ruth."
"I didn't know it. I'm used to doing things myself. It might havebeen too late for Milly if I'd waited."
"Thank God, I wasn't too late for you."
The boat was at the shore now; and as he spoke Captain John held outhis hands to help Ruth down, for, encumbered with her long dress,and still weak from past suffering, she could not spring to land asshe used to do in her short gown. For the first time the colordeepened in her cheek as she looked into the face before her andread the meaning of the eyes that found her beautiful and dear, andthe lips that thanked God for her salvation so fervently.
She did not speak, but let him lift her down, draw her hand throughhis arm, and lead her up the rocky slope to the little pool that laywaiting for the sun's first rays to wake from its sleep. He pausedthere, and with his hand on hers said quietly,--
"Ruth, before I go I want to tell you something, and this is a goodtime and place. While Aunt Mary watched the flowers, I've watchedyou, and found the girl I've always wanted for my wife. Modest andbrave, dutiful and true, that's what I love; could you give me allthis, dear, for the little I can offer, and next year sail withSammy and a very happy man if you say yes?"
"I'm not half good and wise enough for that! Remember what I am,"began Ruth, bending her head as if the thought were more than shecould bear.
"I do remember, and I'm proud of it! Why, dear heart, I've worked myway up from a common sailor, and am the better for it. Now I've gotmy ship, and I want a mate to make a home for me aboard and ashore.Look up and tell me that I didn't read those true eyes wrong."
Then Ruth lifted up her face, and the sunshine showed him all heasked to know, as she answered with her heart in her voice and the"true eyes" fixed on his,--
"I tried not to love you, knowing what a poor ignorant girl I am;but you were so kind to me, how could I help it, John?"
That satisfied him, and he sealed his happy thanks on the innocentlips none had kissed but the little brother, the old man, and thefresh winds of the sea.
One can imagine the welcome they met at the small brown house, andwhat went on inside as Grandpa blessed the lovers, and Sammy sooverflowed with joy at his enchanting prospects, that he was obligedto vent his feelings in ecstatic jigs upon the beach, to the greatamazement of the gulls and sandpipers at breakfast there.
No one at the Point, except a certain dear old lady, knew thepleasant secret, though many curious or friendly visitors went tothe Island that day to see the heroine and express their wonder,thanks, and admiration. All agreed that partial drowning seemed tosuit the girl, for a new Ruth had risen like Venus from the sea. Asofter beauty was in her fresh face now, a gentler sort of pridepossessed her,
and a still more modest shrinking from praise andpublicity became her well. No one guessed the cause, and she wassoon forgotten; for the season was over, the summer guests departed,and the Point was left to the few cottagers who loved to linger intogolden September.
Miss Mary was one of these, and Captain John another; for heremained as long as he dared, to make things comfortable for the oldman, and to sit among the rocks with Ruth when her day's work wasdone, listening while his "Mermaid," as he called her, sang as shehad never sung before, and let him read the heart he had made hisown, for the lily was wide open now, and its gold all his.
With the first frosts Grandpa died, and was carried to his grave byhis old comrades, owing no man a cent, thanks to his dutifulgranddaughter and the new son she had given him. Then the littlehouse was deserted, and all winter Ruth was happy with Aunt Mary,while Sammy studied bravely, and lived on dreams of the joys instore for him when the Captain came sailing home again.
Another summer brought the happy day when the little brown house wasset in order for a sailor's honeymoon, when the flag floated gaylyover Miss Mary's cottage, and Ruth in a white gown with her chosenflowers in her hair and bosom, shipped with her dear Captain for thelong cruise which had its storms and calms, but never any shipwreckof the love that grew and blossomed with the water-lilies by thesea.
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