Part 2 (2/2)

”No, I'm no' going. It would do no good and it would anger my father.”

But May persisted.

”Why shouldna we be there as well as half the town? Papa mightna like it, but he couldna help it, if we were once there. And ye ken ye never said good-bye to Willie Calderwood.”

”May,” said her sister, ”when did you see Willie? I mean, when did he tell you that he was to be first mate of the 'John Seaton,' and maybe captain by and by?”

”Oh! I heard that long ago, and I saw him last night. He came a bit of the way home with me. He would have come all the way to say good-bye to you, but he had something to do, that couldna be put off. And I'm sure he'll expect to see you at the pier to-day.”

”But I canna go.”

And then she added--”Well, and what more did he say?”

”Oh! what should he say? He said many a thing. He told me if I would stand on the high rocks above the Tangle Stanes and wave my scarlet scarf when the 'John Seaton' was sailing by, he would take it as a sign of good luck, and that he would come safe home again, and get his heart's wish.”

”And we are going there.”

”Oh! I dinna ken. It's cold, and the s.h.i.+p mayna sail, and we might have to wait. I'm not going.”

”Did he say that to you? Yes, you are going. Do you mean that you would let him be disappointed at the very last, and him taking it for a sign?”

”But the mist is rising, and it's all nonsense--and he winna see.”

”Where is your scarlet shawl? Did you no' bring it?”

”Oh! yes. I brought it fast enough,” said May, laughing and lifting her dress, under which the shawl was fastened. ”As we were going to Auntie Jean's I thought it as well to keep it out of sight. But, Jean, it is wet and cold, and he was only half in earnest.”

”How could he speak out all that he wanted to say, kenning my father!

But you must go.”

”Go yourself. He'll never ken the difference.”

”No, he'll never ken the difference. But when he comes home--what will you say to him then? And besides it was your being there that was to be the sign of his safe coming home--and--his getting his heart's wish.

You are coming.”

They turned their steps northward, in the direction of a high ledge of rocks, that half a mile above the harbour jutted out into the sea. It was this point both had been thinking of when they left home, for they well knew that the young ladies from Saughleas could not, on such a day, go to loiter on the pier with all the town, just to see a whaling s.h.i.+p set sail for northern seas. If the day had been fine, they might have gone with a chance companion or two to see what was to be seen, and to while away an hour. Even in the wind and sleet Jean might have gone with her father, if the s.h.i.+p had not been the ”John Seaton,” or if Willie Calderwood had not been on board. But as it was, she could not even name such a thing to her father. He would have been angry, and it would have done no good.

So it was to the rocks above the Tangle Stanes they must go. If the day had been fine, there would have been other folk there, and many a signal would have been given as the s.h.i.+p went by. But they had the high desolate rocks to themselves when they had clambered up at last, and it was all they could do to keep their footing upon it, for the wind which had met them so fiercely even on the level, raged here with tenfold violence.

And there was no sign of the s.h.i.+p. There was nothing but great wild waves rising and falling as far as they could see, and ma.s.ses of white foam here and there, where they broke themselves on half hidden rocks beneath. There was no sign of life except that now and then a solitary sea-gull shrieked sadly through the blast.

”Eh! but it's dreary and cold,” said May with a shudder.

”Go down to yon sheltered nook and bide there till I tell you that she is coming.”

”But it's a' nonsense, Jean. She mayna come at all, as auntie said.”

”Since we're here, we'll bide a while:” So May went down to the sheltered nook, and wrapping her cloak about her, she took from her pocket a biscuit or two with which she had providently supplied herself, and prepared to wait with what patience she could till her sister chose to go. And Jean, unable to stand still in the bitter wind, struggled up and down the narrow limits of the ledge,--not thinking--hardly feeling-- for she needed all her power to keep her footing on the slippery rock-- only waiting for the s.h.i.+p.

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