Part 2 (1/2)

Yes, the laird himself journeyed with his boys as far as Leith, and saw them safe on board.

When the good s.h.i.+p steamed away at last, he waved them a silent adieu, then turned and walked quickly away.

CHAPTER II.--HURRAH FOR ”MERRIE ENGLAND”!

Neither Duncan nor Conal was a bad sailor, for, their father's estate being near the western sea, many a long summer's day they spent in open boats, and they sometimes went out with the herring-fishers and were heard of no more for clays.

But this was to be a voyage of more than ordinary rigours, for, as bad luck would have it, a gale of wind arose, with tremendous seas, soon after they pa.s.sed Berwick.

The waves made a clean breach over the unfortunate s.h.i.+p, and at midnight, when the storm was at its worst, the boys were suddenly awakened by the strange rolling motion of the steamer, and they knew at once that some terrible accident had happened.

The engines had stopped, for the shaft was broken; and high over the roaring of the terrible wind they could hear the captain shouting:

”All hands on deck!”

”Hands make sail!”

It was but little sail she could carry, indeed, and that only fore-and-afters, jib and stay-sails.

The boys had a cabin all to themselves, and the companions.h.i.+p of honest Viking, the Newfoundland. The poor dog did not know what to make of his situation. If he thought at all, and no doubt dogs do think, he must have wondered why his masters should have forsaken their beautiful home, their wanderings over the hills still clad in crimson heather, or through the forests deep and dark, for a life like this; but to the lower animals the ways of mankind are inscrutable, just as those of a higher power are to us. We are G.o.ds to the pets we cherish, and they are content to believe in and trust us, never doubting that all is for the best. Alas! we ourselves hardly put the same trust in the good G.o.d who made us, and cares for us, as our innocent dogs do in those who own them.

”Well, Conal,” said Duncan, ”this is, indeed, a wild night. I wonder if we are going to Davie Jones's locker, as sailors call it?”

”I don't think so. The captain is a long-headed fellow. I guess he knows what he is up to.”

”I shall light the candles anyhow. I don't like to lie awake in the dark. Do you?”

”Not much. If I was to be drowned I think I would like it to come off in good daylight.”

After a scramble, during which he was pitched three times on the deck, once right on top of the dog, Duncan succeeded in lighting the candles.

These were hung in gimbals, so that the motion of the s.h.i.+p did not affect them.

It was more cheerful now; so, having little desire to go to sleep, knowing that the s.h.i.+p must really be in danger, they lay and talked to each other. Talked of home, of course, but more about the great and wondrous city of London, which, if G.o.d spared the s.h.i.+p, they soon should see.

Presently a bigger wave than any that had come before it struck the s.h.i.+p, and seemed to heel her over right on her beam-ends, so that Duncan almost tumbled out of his berth.

A deep silence followed, broken only by the rush of water into the boys'

cabin.

Viking sprang right into Conal's berth, and crouched, shaking and quivering in terror, at his feet.

There was half a foot of water on the cabin deck.

The worst seemed to be over, however, for presently sail was got on her, and though the wind continued to rave and howl through the rigging, she was on a more even keel and much steadier.

Presently the captain himself had a peep into the lads' state-room.