The Coxswain's Bride; also, Jack Frost and Sons; and, A Double Rescue by Ballantyne (reading fiction .TXT) 📕

visited the cavern of the wreck, with the view, if possible, of recovering something from the sunk vessel, but though most of the men could swim, none of them could dive, therefore the result was failure.

They succeeded, however, in making soap by boiling wood-ash and seal’s fat in their cast-iron pot. Those who are accustomed to the celebrated “Pears” can scarcely understand what an addition to cleanliness and comfort resulted from this coarsely manufactured article.

Gulls’ eggs were found in great quantity on the cliffs, and the discovery and capture of wild pigs added to the luxury of their table—which latter, by the way, was an ingenious contrivance of Joe Slag. Binding four sticks together in the form of a stout oblong frame, Joe had covered this—filled it in as it were—with straight branches about a finger thick, laid side by side and tied to the frame. This he fixed on four posts driven into the ground, and thus formed an excellent, if not an elegant, table.

One morning at breakfast, Terrence O’Connor was observed to be unusually busy with a large hook.

“Are you goin’ to fish for sharks to-day?” asked Slag.

“Faix, no; it’s to the woods I’ll go fishin’ to-day, Joe. Now, Nell, gi’ me the stoutest line ye’ve got on hand, mavourneen.”

“Will that do? I made it the other day specially for sharks—or whales!” said Nellie, with a light laugh, for she expected him to reject the line she held up.

“The very thing, Nell. Hand it over. Now, boys, I’m off to try my luck i’ the woods, for I’m gittin’ tired o’ the say.”

O’Connor went off alone, bestowing a mysterious wink on Peggy Mitford as he left.

The Irishman had observed that the wild pigs were particularly fond of a certain root which was plentiful in a valley about three miles distant from the hut. Repairing to that valley, he dug up one of the roots, baited his hook with it, hung it from a low branch to attract attention, fastened the other end of the line to a tree, and went off to hide and bide his time. Before half-an-hour had elapsed, a gay young pig visited the scene of its former festivities, saw the pendent bait, smelt it, took it in its mouth, and straightway filled the woods with frantic lamentations. The struggle between the Irishman and that pig was worthy of record, but we prefer leaving it to the reader’s imagination. The upshot was, that the pig was overcome, carried—bound, and shrieking—to the hut, and tamed by Peggy. In a short time, other pigs were caught and tamed. So, also, were rabbits. These bred and multiplied. The original pig became the mother of a large family, and in a short time something like the sounds and aspects of a farm began to surround the old hut. Still further—by means of the cast-iron pot, which already boiled their soup and their soap—they managed to boil sea-water down into salt, and with this some of the pigs were converted into salt pork—in short, the place began to assume the appearance of a busy and thriving backwoods settlement.

“It’s risin’ tide with us again, after a fashion, Nell,” said the coxswain to his wife, as they stood one evening on the sea-shore watching the sunset.

Nellie sighed. “It is, Bob,” she said, “and I’m very thankful; but—but I’d rather be at home in Old England among kith and kin, even though the tide was low!”

“What! alongside o’ Aunt Betty?”

“Yes, even alongside o’ Aunt Betty; for if this voyage has taught me anything at all, it has taught me that, after all, ‘there’s no place like home!’”

“Right you are, Nell,” said Joe Slag, who came up at that moment, “there’s no place like home—when it’s a happy one; but if it ain’t a happy one, there may be difference of opinion even on that pint, d’ee see?”

That very night, a great ocean steamer, bound from the Antipodes to Old England, chanced to diverge from her true course, and sighted the beacon-fire which Tomlin—on duty at the time—was stirring up to fervent heat. The Captain was not one of those whom Terrence O’Connor credited with diabolic possession. He was a good man; and, knowing that men did not light beacon-fires on lonely islands merely for amusement, he resolved to lay-to till daylight, which was due in about an hour from the time the island was sighted. Meanwhile, he sounded his steam whistle.

At the sound, the hut instantly disgorged its male inmates, who, recognising the familiar noise and the steamer’s lights, sent up a shout of mingled joy and thanksgiving.

“Get out the boat, boys!” cried Hayward, as he ran back to the hut to rouse the women.

“Get ready, quick! Eva; a steamer at last, thank God, in the offing! Don’t lose a moment. They may have little time to wait. Boat will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Ay, an’ pack up all you want to carry away,” cried the coxswain, crossing the threshold at that moment.

“So it is all going to end suddenly like a dream!” said Eva, as she hastened to obey orders.

“Home, sweet home!” murmured Nellie, trembling with joy at the prospect.

“Wherever you are, my dear, the home will be sweet,” said Peggy. “Though of course it wouldn’t be that without your ’usband, for it takes two to make a fight, you know, an’ it takes two no less, I think, to make things pleasant, but—dear, dear, what a disagreeable thing it is to ’ave to dress in a ’urry, though one shouldn’t—”

“Look alive, there! look al–i–ve!” roared O’Connor, putting his head in at the door. “Daylight’s a-breakin’, an’ they won’t—”

“Oh! Terrence, that reminds me—don’t forget our pets,” cried Nellie, who had steadily declined to speak of them as “live stock.”

“All right, missis. It’s lookin’ after them I am this minnit.”

The Irishman ran, as he spoke, to the styes and hutches where the pigs and rabbits were kept and opened the doors.

“Out wid ye!” he cried, “the Act of Emancipation’s passed, and ye’re all free—ivery mother’s son of ye.”

Accustomed to his voice and his caressing hand, the astonished creatures seemed to look up at him in surprise.

“Be aff, at wance, hooroo!” cried the excited man, with a clap of his hands and a Donnybrook yell that sent all the “pets” leaping and squealing into their native jungle.

Soon after that the boat was bounding out to sea under the impulse of strong arms and willing hearts. A few minutes more, and they were receiving the warm congratulations of the passengers and crew of the steamer. Then the order was given to go ahead full speed, and the engine’s great heart seemed to throb sympathetically within the hearts of the rescued ones as the vessel cut her way swiftly through the Southern Ocean—homeward bound for Old England! Nevertheless, there was a touch of sadness in the breasts of all as they turned their farewell gaze on the receding island and thought of the pets, the old hut, the long period of mingled pleasure and suffering, and the lonely grave.

We cannot part from the friends whose footsteps we have followed so long and so far without a parting word or two.

On returning to his native village, Bob Massey found that his successor as coxswain had died, and that another man had not yet been appointed to the lifeboat—he was therefore installed, with much rejoicing, in his old position as a rescuer of human lives. Joe Slag, naturally and pleasantly, also fell into his old post at the bow. Nellie found that Aunt Betty had had what the villagers called “a stroke” during her absence; which crushing blow had the effect of opening her eyes to many things regarding herself and others, to which she had been particularly blind before. It also had the effect—indirectly—of subduing much of the evil in her character and bringing out much of the good. As evil begets evil, so good begets good; and one result of this law was, that the seven children, whom she had brought—or banged—up, became seven repentant and sympathetic and reasonably good creatures when they saw the old mother, whom they used to think so harsh and so physically strong, reduced to amiable helplessness. Thus it came to pass that there was not in all the village an old woman who was so well looked after by her progeny as Aunt Betty.

Terrence O’Connor continued to rove about the world in the capacity of a ship’s cook till near the end of his days. John Mitford and Peggy unexpectedly came into a small inheritance soon after returning home, and settled down for life close to the coxswain’s cottage. Tomlin went to New Zealand to seek his fortune. Whether he found it or not, we cannot tell! Last, but not least, Dr Hayward and his wife returned to their native land, and for many years afterwards kept up a steady correspondence with Nell Massey, in which, you may be sure, there were frequent and pleasant allusions to the time which they had spent together on the lonely isle in the southern seas.

One morning, Nellie presented her husband with a baby boy. Bob was out with the lifeboat rescuing a shipwrecked crew at the time the presentation was made. On his return, he opened the door and stood before his wife dripping wet.

“Fifteen saved this time, Nell,” he began, but the nurse stopped him by exhibiting the baby boy.

“Thank the Lord!” he said, with a glad look in his wet eyes.

“You mustn’t come near us,” said the nurse, with a look of warning. “Only a look just now.”

“The tide has risen to the flood now, Bob,” murmured the young mother, softly.

“Ay,” said the coxswain in a deep voice, “an’ it’s a high spring tide too. God bless you, Nell!”

The End.