Part 34 (1/2)
At first Jill had laughed at his efforts to keep up her spirits, but when the boat floated round a point of rock that shut in the cove, she felt all alone, and sat quite still, wondering what would become of her.
She turned her back to the sea and looked at the dear, safe land, which never had seemed so green and beautiful before. Up on the hill rustled the wood through which the happy party were wandering to the Chasm.
On the rocks she still saw the crowd all busy with their own affairs, unconscious of her danger. Here and there artists were sketching in picturesque spots, and in one place an old gentleman sat fis.h.i.+ng peacefully. Jill called and waved her handkerchief, but he never looked up, and an ugly little dog barked at her in what seemed to her a most cruel way.
”n.o.body sees or hears or cares, and those horrid boys will never catch up!” she cried in despair, as the boat began to rock more and more, and the loud swash of water das.h.i.+ng in and out of the Chasm drew nearer and nearer. Holding on now with both hands she turned and looked straight before her, pale and s.h.i.+vering, while her eyes tried to see some sign of hope among the steep cliffs that rose up on the left. No one was there, though usually at this hour they were full of visitors, and it was time for the walkers to have arrived.
”I wonder if Gerty and Mamie will be sorry if I'm drowned,” thought Jill, remembering the poor girl who had been lost in the Chasm not long ago. Her lively fancy pictured the grief of her friends at her loss; but that did not help or comfort her now, and as her anxious gaze wandered along the sh.o.r.e, she said aloud, in a pensive tone,--
”Perhaps I shall be wrecked on Norman's Woe, and somebody will make poetry about me. It would be pretty to read, but I don't want to die that way. Oh, why did I come! Why didn't I stay safe and comfortable in my own boat?”
At the thought a sob rose, and poor Jill laid her head down on her lap to cry with all her heart, feeling very helpless, small, and forsaken alone there on the great sea. In the midst of her tears came the thought, ”When people are in danger, they ask G.o.d to save them;” and, slipping down upon her knees, she said her prayer as she had never said it before, for when human help seems gone we turn to Him as naturally as lost children cry to their father, and feel sure that he will hear and answer them.
After that she felt better, and wiped away the drops that blinded her, to look out again like a s.h.i.+pwrecked mariner watching for a sail. And there it was! Close by, coming swiftly on with a man behind it, a st.u.r.dy brown fisher, busy with his lobster-pots, and quite unconscious how like an angel he looked to the helpless little girl in the rudderless boat.
”Hi! hi! Oh, please do stop and get me! I'm lost, no oars, n.o.body to fix the sail! Oh, oh! please come!” screamed Jill, waving her hat frantically as the other boat skimmed by and the man stared at her as if she really was a mermaid with a fishy tail.
”Keep still! I'll come about and fetch you!” he called out; and Jill obeyed, sitting like a little image of faith, till with a good deal of s.h.i.+fting and flapping of the sail, the other boat came alongside and took her in tow.
A few words told the story, and in five minutes she was sitting snugly tucked up watching an unpleasant ma.s.s of lobsters flap about dangerously near her toes, while the boat bounded over the waves with a delightful motion, and every instant brought her nearer home. She did not say much, but felt a good deal; and when they met two boats coming to meet her, manned by very anxious crews of men and boys, she was so pale and quiet that Jack was quite bowed down with remorse, and Frank nearly pitched the bicycle boy overboard because he gayly asked Jill how she left her friends in England. There was great rejoicing over her, for the people on the rocks had heard of her loss, and ran about like ants when their hill is disturbed. Of course half a dozen amiable souls posted off to the Willows to tell the family that the little girl was drowned, so that when the rescuers appeared quite a crowd was a.s.sembled on the beach to welcome her. But Jill felt so used up with her own share of the excitement that she was glad to be carried to the house by Frank and Jack, and laid upon her bed, where Mrs. Hammond soon restored her with sugar-coated pills, and words even sweeter and more soothing.
Other people, busied with their own pleasures, forgot all about it by the next day; but Jill remembered that hour long afterward, both awake and asleep, for her dreams were troubled, and she often started up imploring someone to save her. Then she would recall the moment when, feeling most helpless, she had asked for help, and it had come as quickly as if that tearful little cry had been heard and answered, though her voice had been drowned by the dash of the waves that seemed ready to devour her. This made a deep impression on her, and a sense of childlike faith in the Father of all began to grow up within her; for in that lonely voyage, short as it was, she had found a very precious treasure to keep for ever, to lean on, and to love during the longer voyage which all must take before we reach our home.
Chapter XXII. A Happy Day
”Oh dear! Only a week more, and then we must go back. Don't you hate the thoughts of it?” said Jack, as he was giving Jill her early walk on the beach one August morning.
”Yes, it will be dreadful to leave Gerty and Mamie and all the nice people. But I'm so much better I won't have to be shut up again, even if I don't go to school. How I long to see Merry and Molly. Dear things, if it wasn't for them I should hate going home more than you do,” answered Jill, stepping along quite briskly, and finding it very hard to resist breaking into a skip or a run, she felt so well and gay.
”Wish they could be here to-day to see the fun,” said Jack, for it was the anniversary of the founding of the place, and the people celebrated it by all sorts of festivity.
”I did want to ask Molly, but your mother is so good to me I couldn't find courage to do it. Mammy told me not to ask for a thing, and I'm sure I don't get a chance. I feel just as if I was your truly born sister, Jack.”
”That's all right, I'm glad you do,” answered Jack, comfortably, though his mind seemed a little absent and his eyes twinkled when she spoke of Molly. ”Now, you sit in the cubby-house, and keep quiet till the boat comes in. Then the fun will begin, and you must be fresh and ready to enjoy it. Don't run off, now, I shall want to know where to find you by and by.”
”No more running off, thank you. I'll stay here till you come, and finish this box for Molly; she has a birthday this week, and I've written to ask what day, so I can send it right up and surprise her.”
Jack's eyes twinkled more than ever as he helped Jill settle herself in the boat, and then with a whoop he tore over the beach, as if practising for the race which was to come off in the afternoon.
Jill was so busy with her work that time went quickly, and the early boat came in just as the last pink sh.e.l.l was stuck in its place. Putting the box in the sun to dry, she leaned out of her nook to watch the gay parties land, and go streaming up the pier along the road that went behind the bank that sheltered her. Flocks of children were running about on the sand, and presently strangers appeared, eager to see and enjoy all the delights of this gala-day.
”There's a fat little boy who looks ever so much like Boo,” said Jill to herself, watching the people and hoping they would not come and find her, since she had promised to stay till Jack returned.
The fat little boy was staring about him in a blissful sort of maze, holding a wooden shovel in one hand and the skirts of a young girl with the other. Her back was turned to Jill, but something in the long brown braid with a fly-away blue bow hanging down her back looked very familiar to Jill. So did the gray suit and the j.a.panese umbrella; but the hat was strange, and while she was thinking how natural the boots looked, the girl turned round.
”Why, how much she looks like Molly! It can't be--yes, it might, I do believe it _is_!” cried Jill, starting up and hardly daring to trust her own eyes.
As she came out of her nest and showed herself, there could be no doubt about the other girl, for she gave one shout and came racing over the beach with both arms out, while her hat blew off unheeded, and the gay umbrella flew away, to the great delight of all the little people except Boo, who was upset by his sister's impetuous rush, and lay upon his back howling. Molly did not do all the running, though, and Jill got her wish, for, never stopping to think of herself, she was off at once, and met her friend half-way with an answering cry. It was a pretty sight to see them run into one another's arms and hug and kiss and talk and skip in such a state of girlish joy they never cared who saw or laughed at their innocent raptures.
”You darling dear! where did you come from?” cried Jill, holding Molly by both shoulders, and shaking her a little to be sure she was real.