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

The man’s object was to dive through the first wave. If he could manage this—and the second—the rest would not be beyond the power of a strong man. A third time he leaped into the rushing flood, and this time was successful. Soon he stood panting on the deck of the stranded vessel, almost unable to stand, and well he knew that there was not a moment to lose, for the ship was going to pieces! Jack Matterby, however, knew well what to do. He drew out the hawser of the rocket apparatus, fixed the various ropes, and signalled to those on shore to send out the sling life-buoy, and then the men of the coastguard began to haul the passengers and crew ashore, one at a time.

The young sailor, recovering in a few minutes, lent a hand. Jack knew him the instant he heard his voice, but took no notice of him, for it was a stern matter of life or death with them all just then.

When Jack and the captain stood at last awaiting their turn, and watching the last of the crew being dragged over the boiling surf, our hero turned suddenly, and, grasping the young sailor’s hand with the grip of a vice, said, “God bless you, Natty Grove!”

Nat gazed as if he had been stunned. “Can it be?” he exclaimed. “We had thought you dead years ago!”

“Thank God, I’m not only alive but hearty. Here comes the life-buoy. Your turn next. But one word before—old Nell; and—Nellie?”

“Both well, and living with your mother—”

“My—” Jack could not speak, a tremendous shock seemed to rend his heart. Young Grove felt that he had been too precipitate.

“Your mother is alive, Jack, and—”

He stopped, for the captain said quickly, “Now, then, get in. No time to lose.”

But Jack could not get in. If he had not been a strong man he must have fallen on the deck. As it was, he felt stunned and helpless.

“Here, captain,” cried Nat Grove, leaping into the life-buoy, “lift him into my arms. The ropes are strong enough for both.”

Scarce knowing what he did, Jack allowed himself to be half-lifted into the buoy in which his old friend held him fast. A few minutes more, and they were dragged safely to land and the ringing cheers and congratulations of the assembled multitude. The captain came last, so that, when the ship finally went to pieces, not a human life was lost—even the ship’s cat was among the number of the saved, the captain having carried it ashore in his arms.

Now, there are some scenes in this life which will not bear description in detail. Such was the meeting of our hero with his long-lost mother. We refrain from lifting the curtain here. But there is no reason why we should not re-introduce the joyful and grateful pair at a later period of that same eventful day, when, seated together by the bedside of old Nell, they recounted their experiences—yes, the same old woman, but thinner and wrinkleder, and smaller in every way; and the same bed, as far as appearance went, though softer and cosier, and bigger in all ways. On the other side of the bed sat the manly form of Natty Grove. But who is that fair girl with the curling golden hair, whose face exhibits one continuous blush, and whose entire body, soul and spirit is apparently enchained by an insignificant piece of needlework? Can that be Nellie Grove, whom we last saw with her eyes shut and her mouth open—howling? Yes, it is she, and—but let Mrs Matterby explain.

“Now, Jack,” said that lady in a firm tone, “it’s of no use your asking question after question of every one in this way, and not even waiting for answers, and everybody speaking at once—”

“Excuse me, dearest mother, Miss Nellie Grove has not yet spoken at all.”

“Miss Nellie, indeed! Times are changed,”—murmured Natty, with a look of surprise.

“Her not speaking proves her the wisest of us all,” resumed the widow, looking at Old Nell, who with tremulous head nodded violent approval. You must know, old Nell had become as deaf as a post, and, being incapable of understanding anything, she gratified her natural amiability by approving of everything—at least everything that was uttered by speakers with a visible smile. When they spoke with gravity, old Nell shook her tremulous head, and put on a look of alarmingly solemn sympathy. On the present occasion, however, the antique old thing seemed to have been affected with some absolutely new, and evidently quaint, ideas, for she laughed frequently and immoderately, especially when she gazed hard at Jack Matterby after having looked long at Nellie Grove!

“Now, Jack,” resumed the widow for the fiftieth time, “you must know that after I lost you, and had given you up for dead, I came back here, feeling an intense longing to see once more the old home, and I began a school. In course of years God sent me prosperity, notwithstanding the murmurings of rebellion which rose in my heart when I thought of you. The school became so big that I had to take a new house—that in which you now sit—and sought about for a teacher to help me. Long before that time poor Ned Grove had been drowned at sea. Your old friend Natty there had become the first mate to a merchantman, and helped to support his grandmother. Nellie, whose education I had begun, as you know, when you were a boy, had grown into a remarkably clever and pretty girl, as, no doubt, you will admit. She had become a daily governess in the family of a gentleman who had come to live in the neighbourhood. Thus she was enabled to assist her brother in keeping up the old home, and took care of granny.”

At this point our hero, as he looked at the fair face and modest carriage of his old playmate heartily admitted, (to himself), that she was much more than “pretty,” and felt that he now understood how a fisherman’s daughter had, to his intense surprise, grown up with so much of gentle manners, and such soft lady-like hands. But he said never a word!

“Most happily for me,” continued Mrs Matterby, “Nellie lost her situation at the time I speak of, owing to the death of her employer. Thus I had the chance of securing her at once. And now, here we have been together for some years, and I hope we may never part as long as we live. We had considerable difficulty in getting old Nell to quit the cottage and come here. Indeed, we should never have succeeded, I think, had it not been for Natty—”

“That’s true,” interrupted Nat, with a laugh.

“The dear old woman was too deaf to understand, and too obstinate to move: so one day I put the bed clothes over her head, gathered her and them up in my arms, and brought her up here bodily, very much as I carried you ashore, Jack, in the life-buoy, without asking leave. And she has been content and happy ever since.”

What more of this tale there is to tell shall be told, reader, by excerpts from our hero’s Christmas letter to thin little Mrs Seaford, as follows:—

“Pardon my seeming neglect, dear old friend. I meant to have run up to town to see you the instant I set foot in England, but you must admit that my dear, long-lost mother had prior claims. Pardon, also, my impudence in now asking you to come and see me. You must come. I will take no denial, for I want you to rejoice at my wedding! Yes, as old Nell once said to me, ‘God sends us a blessing sometimes when we least expect it.’ He has not only restored to me my mother, but has raised me from the lowest rung in the ladder to the very highest, and given me the sweetest, and most—. But enough. Come and see for yourself. Her name is Nellie. But I have more to astonish you with. Not only do I take Nellie back with me to my home in the new world, but I take my mother also, and Natty Grove, and old Nell herself! How we got her to understand what we want her to do, could not be told in less than four hundred pages of small type. Nat did it, by means of signs, symbols, and what he styles facial-logarithms. At all events she has agreed to go, and we hope to set sail next June. Moreover, I expect to get you to join us. Don’t laugh. I mean it. There is good work to be done. Canada needs philanthropic Christians as well as England.

“You will scarcely credit me when I say that I have become a match-maker—not one of those ‘little’ ones, in whose welfare you are so much interested, but a real one. My deep design is upon your partner, Natty Grove. Yes, your partner—for were not you the instrument used in rescuing my soul, and he my body? so that you have been partners in this double rescue. Well, it is my intention to introduce Natty Grove to Nancy Briggs, and abide the result! Once on a time I had meant her for Bob Snobbins, but as you have failed to hunt him up, he must be left to suffer the consequences. D’you know I have quite a pathetic feeling of tenderness for the memory of that too sharp little boy. Little does he know how gladly I would give him the best coat in my possession—if I could only find him!

“Now, dearest of old friends, I must stop. Nellie is sitting on one side of me, mother on the other, and old Nell in front—which will account to you, in some degree, for the madness of my condition.

“Once more, in the hope of a joyful meeting, I wish you ‘a merry Christmas and a happy New Year.’”