Part 2 (1/2)
”They may be valuable, as aiding to discover their friends, and should be carefully preserved.” Indeed he neglected no means by which the important object could be obtained, of discovering, at a future period, the family of the little foundlings.
While these matters were being arranged, the wind had dropped again completely, and the sky had a.s.sumed a dull leaden hue, and a thick haze to the eastward rose up and looked like a line of high land. The boat was meantime left hanging astern, while the gig was again hoisted up on the quarter.
Sailors have a strong aversion to having dead bodies on board; and as there was no object to be attained by keeping those of the unfortunate persons who had been discovered in the boat, preparations were made to bury them that evening in the deep ocean. I will not now stop to describe the ceremony. They were sewn up in a clean canvas, with a shot fastened in at the feet, and a clergyman who was among the pa.s.sengers, performed the funeral service. They were then launched overboard, and sunk for ever from the sight of men.
Scarcely had they reached the water than a low moaning sound was heard in the rigging, and the sails flapped heavily against the mast. Captain Willis cast a hurried glance to windward.
”Clew up--haul up--let fly everything--away aloft there--furl topgallant sails, close reef the topsails--be smart, my lads,” he exclaimed in those sharp tones which showed that there was no time for delay. The attentive men flew to their proper posts--some to the tacks and sheets, the bunt-lines and clew-lines, others swarmed aloft like bees on the yards, and with vigorous arms hauled out the earings and secured the sails with the gaskets. They did their work manfully, for they well knew there was no time to lose.
Scarcely, indeed, was all along made snug, and they were coming down again, than the threatening blast struck the s.h.i.+p.
”Hold on for your lives, hold on!” exclaimed the captain. ”Port the helm, port!”
Away she flew before the gale, upright and unharmed. In an instant, it seemed, the sea, before so calm and bright, became covered with a ma.s.s of foam, and then waves rose rapidly, one towering above the other, in quick succession. Two men were stationed at the helm, to keep the s.h.i.+p before the wind, as she ran on under close-reefed fore-topsail.
So engaged had Captain Willis and his officers been in getting the s.h.i.+p into proper order to encounter the gale, that they entirely forgot the boat towing astern. Fortunately no sea had yet risen high enough to drive her against the s.h.i.+p, or serious damage might have been effected.
At last Sir Charles observed her, and called the attention of the first officer to her. In an instant his knife was out, and without waiting to consult the captain, he was cutting away at the tow rope. He was not a moment too soon, for some heavy black seas were seen rolling up like mountains astern. The last strands of the rope parted with a sharp snap, the boat was seen to rise to the top of a wave, and the next rolled her over and over, and she disappeared beneath the waters.
”Alas!” exclaimed Sir Charles, ”sad would have been the fate of the poor children, had we not providentially come up in time to save them.”
Reader, I was one of those poor children, thus providentially rescued from destruction; the other was my sister. Truly I have a right to say, G.o.d equally rules the calm or the tempest--equally in the one and the other does He watch over his creatures.
G.o.d IS EVERYWHERE.
CHAPTER FOUR.
The events I have described in the preceding chapters were afterwards told me by my friends, and I have faithfully given them in the words of the narrators. Of course the commencement of my narrative is somewhat conjectural; but there can be no doubt, from the circ.u.mstances I have mentioned, that the main features were perfectly true. The storm blew furiously all that night, and the s.h.i.+p ran on before it; but as day dawned its rage appeared expended, and by noon the waves subsided, and the wind gently as before filled the broad fields of canvas spread to receive it. I slept through it all, for the close air of the cabins, after having been exposed for so many days in the open boat, made me drowsy. I have a faint recollection of opening my eyes in the morning, and finding the sun s.h.i.+ning in through the port, and the sweet face of Ellen Barrow hanging over me. When she saw me look up and smile, (for even then I thought such a face ought to be beloved, and must be kind and good, and I felt that I did love her), she covered me with kisses, and, forlorn little foundling though I was, I felt very happy. I have no distinct recollection of anything which happened in the boat; but I remember, as if it were yesterday, that lovely countenance, with the sun just tingeing her auburn locks as my waking eyes first fell on it; and though I do not suppose that I had ever heard of an angel, I had some indefinite sort of notion that she was one; at all events, that she was a being in whom I might place implicit confidence, and who would watch over me, and guard me from danger. I put out my little arms and threw them round her neck, and returned her kisses with right good-will.
Dear Mrs Clayton had faithfully fulfilled her promise of carefully nursing my little sister, by holding her half the night in her arms, during the raging of the storm, fearful that any harm should come to her new-found treasure; and it was only when the sea subsided, and the s.h.i.+p was more steady, that she would consent to place her in a little cot which had been slung by her side. In the afternoon all the pa.s.sengers were again collected together on deck. We, of course, afforded the subject of general conversation and curiosity. Speculations of all sorts were offered as to who we could be--where we could have come from, and how it happened that we were in an open boat, in the condition in which we were found. I was asked all sorts of questions; but to none of them could I return a satisfactory answer. I had some indistinct idea of having been on board another s.h.i.+p, and of there being a great disturbance, and of my crying very much through fear; and I suspect that I must have cried myself to sleep, and remained so when I was put into the boat. Ellen Barrow had taken me under her especial protection, though everybody, more or less, tried to pet me, and I was very happy.
Scarcely four-and-twenty hours had pa.s.sed, it must be remembered, since, without food or human aid, we floated on the open ocean, the dying and the dead our only companions; and now we were on board a well-found s.h.i.+p, and surrounded by kind friends, all vying with each other to do us service. Sir Charles every now and then, as I pa.s.sed him, patted me on the head; and as I looked up I liked the expression of his countenance, so I stopped and smiled, and frequently ran back to him. In this manner we shortly became great friends.
”I wonder what their names can be!” exclaimed Mrs Clayton, as those most interested in us were still sitting together in earnest consultation. ”The boy's initials are M.S., and the little girl's E.S., that is certain. If we cannot discover their real names, we must give them some ourselves.”
”Oh, let them be pretty ones, by all means!” cried Ellen Barrow. ”I must not let my pet be called by an ugly name. Let me consider--it must not be romantic either, like invented names found in novels.”
”I should advise you to choose the surname first for both the children, and then settle the respective Christian names,” remarked the judge.
”Will you help us, Sir Charles?” asked Miss Barrow.
”No, my dear young lady--I propose that our committee abide by your choice, if I am allowed to have a word to say about the Christian name-- so on your shoulders must rest the responsibility,” was Sir Charles's answer.
”It must begin with S, that is certain,” said Ellen Barrow, speaking as she thought on. ”Something to do with the sea: Seagrave--I don't like that; Seaton--it might do. What do you think of Seaworth, Sir Charles?
It is a pretty name and appropriate--Seaworth--I like Seaworth.”
”So do I; and I compliment you on the selection,” said the judge. ”Let the surname of the children be Seaworth from henceforth, till the real name is discovered; and now for a Christian name for the boy. It must begin with M. I do not like long names, and I have a fancy for one in particular--I must beg that he be called Mark. I had a friend of that name, who died early. Do you object to it, Miss Ellen?”
”I had not thought of it, certainly,” said Ellen Barrow. ”I was going to propose Marmaduke; but let me try how it sounds in combination with Seaworth--Mark Seaworth--Mark Seaworth. A very nice name; I like it, and I am sure I shall like it very much in a short time.” So, thanks to Sir Charles and Ellen Barrow, I was called Mark Seaworth.