Part 2 (1/2)

”But _one_ house! Whose is it?” cried Noll, eagerly.

”Why, it be one Trafford's, one o' the strangest--” A sudden expression in the boy's face checked the words on the skipper's tongue, and the truth began to dawn upon his slow brain. ”Great fishes!” cried he, falling back a step or two, ”ye ben't goin'

_there_?”

”Yes,” said Noll, as quietly as he could. ”Why not?”

The skipper gave him a long, steady survey, and then stumped away across the deck without another word, leaned over the rail, and began to whistle. Noll looked after him, half determined to follow and demand what he meant, yet half dreading to learn that all his visions were a great way from the truth. Perhaps it would be better to wait, he thought; night would bring the journey to an end, and then he should know all. So he did not follow the skipper, but kept his seat, while a great many shadowy forebodings crept into his heart, and he began to look back over the trackless waste which they had come, and wish, almost, that he was back in dear old Hastings--in the old home where papa and he had spent so many happy hours--and that Culm Rock was a myth. The sun rose royally up to noon, and odors of dinner began to ascend from the hatchway. Noll had a dinner of his own somewhere in a basket, which he brought forth and ate on the bale which served him for a seat, enjoying the novelty in spite of the anxious speculations concerning his new home in which he could not help indulging.

After dinner the skipper was in better humor than ever, and took his turn at the helm. Noll, wandering about the deck, stopped to watch him, whereupon the master of the ”Gull” good-naturedly answered all his questions, and even allowed him to take the tiller a few minutes, laughing the while at his white hands that could hardly grasp it.

”Wish ye could see my lads' hands!” he said; ”could take both 'o'

yourn in one uv 'em, an' not know they was holding anything. But you'll have browner paws afore ye leave Culm!”

”Of course!” said Noll, ”for I'm going to get Uncle Richard to teach me to row,--I can swim now,--and I'm going to be around the sh.o.r.e half the time.”

”Likely enough, likely enough!” said the skipper, meditatively; and when Noll had pa.s.sed on, he muttered, ”It's a pesky shame fur the lad to be sent off and cooped up on the Rock! Don't know what he's comin'

to, nuther. I'll be blamed ef I ain't sorry for the boy!”

CHAPTER IV.

DISAPPOINTMENTS.

It was late afternoon when land loomed up blue on the horizon. Mr.

Snape had taken the tiller, and Noll stood leaning over the rail by him, eager and watchful for the first look at Culm. ”Mought as well wait a bit,” Jack Snape had drawled out; ”we sha'n't get there fur a long while yet, lad.”

But the boy chose to keep his place, and kept his eyes unweariedly on the distant point for which the ”Gull” was making. Yet it was but tiresome watching, after all, and the brisk breeze seemed to have failed them somewhat, for the vessel's speed had sensibly diminished.

”He'll be glad 'nough to look t'other way arter he gits there,”

muttered Skipper Ben, between the whiffs at his pipe; ”my lads 'ud think they's killed for sartin to be shut up there a week.” He got up at last, knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and disappeared down the hatchway, returning presently with a spy-gla.s.s, which he carried to his pa.s.senger with, ”Lookee here, boy, take this an' make out what ye ken. 'Tain't much ye'll see yet, but mebby ye'll get a look arter a time.” He sat down again, looking at the boy's face from time to time, and wondering if this sending him to Culm Rock was not some of that Lawyer Gray's work. The skipper had not a very high opinion of lawyers.

Slowly, slowly the blue point began to take shape, and Noll's gla.s.s brought it to his eyes all too faithfully. The skipper saw the eager look and the warm color which had been on his face fade slowly out as the ”Gull” drew nearer and nearer the journey's end, and the warm-hearted sailor waxed indignant. ”Mought ha' told him what ter expect, anyhow!” he muttered, shaking a great bale with his brawny hands as if it had been Lawyer Gray's shoulders.

The ”Gull” stood in toward sh.o.r.e. First, the pine woods, vast and sombre, showed themselves; then, a little way on, Culm Rock came slowly into view, bald, ragged, and desolate. Noll's face was very grave, but he kept his place and said nothing. Slowly the curve of the sh.o.r.e unfolded itself, a long line of yellow sand, length after length of scarred and jagged rock. The sound of the surf came faintly out, sounding over the ripple of water about the ”Gull's” prow. Not a sign of life, as yet, had showed itself. The vessel kept steadily on till, at last, the whole great breadth of the Rock lay before them, rising huge and ma.s.sive out of the sea, and, in a sheltered hollow on the sh.o.r.e, a great stone house stood up, gray and weather-beaten as the cliffs about it.

”Is that the house?” Noll asked, turning to the skipper, and laying down his gla.s.s.

The old sailor nodded a.s.sent, thinking to himself that he had never seen it look darker and gloomier, and wondering what the boy thought.

”Aren't you going to stop?” Noll asked, as the ”Gull” kept on, and the stone house dropped astern.

”Goin' round to the landin',” explained Mr. Snape; ”'tain't good moorin's till ye git half a mile fu'ther round. Ye'll git ash.o.r.e pretty quick.”

Under the cool and heavy shadow of the Rock they crept, coming out of it at last into the full glory of the sun's setting. All the west was aflame, and the sea glowed and sparkled like molten gold. Even the wretched little Culm fish-huts looked almost fair and comely in this flood of light.

Noll Trafford scanned the little wharf, where a motley collection of men were gathered, with a quick-beating heart. Which of them could be Uncle Richard? Would he give him a kind welcome? The boy's spirits began to rise somewhat under the influence of the broad, cheerful glow of suns.h.i.+ne and the speedy prospect of meeting this uncle who was to be as a father to him. The remembrance of the gray old house under the shadow of the rocks around the curve of the sh.o.r.e still lay somewhat heavily on his heart; but if Uncle Richard were only glad to see him, all that would not matter, he thought. He stood by the prow as the ”Gull” moved slowly up to the wharf, eagerly scanning every face that was watching the craft's motions. A sudden pang of disappointment chilled him from head to foot, for among that idle, s.h.i.+ftless-looking group, there was not one whom he could possibly mistake for his uncle.

They were all fishermen, dull-faced, dirty, and out at their elbows.