Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/122

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OLD

s'rous

MANSION.

117


hands, or glanced up fearfully at the clouds, and then at the long stretch of water which still separated us from the pier. I watched the approaching tempest.

I wish I could describe the spectacle. Never before had I seen such a deep purple-black in the sky, or such inky water. An ominous twilight

was all around. The birds, after skimming low down, had fled frightened to their hiding-places. The wind had finally died out. Above, wild, dusky-brown clouds, rolling over and over, sped before the tempest. A foreboding hush was on everything. Suddenly, far to the west, I saw the water begin to glisten; the black sky lifted just enough to show a narrow streak of light along the horizon; and a strange, unearthly sound pervaded space, as of Nature sobbing at her approaching dissolution.

“Miss Gray," said Mr. Talbot, in quick, almost stern tones. “Here.”

I was at his side in a moment.

“The squall,” he said, rapidly, “will strikes us directly: you can see and hear it coming. Take this tiller. I mast get in the mainsail, or we shall capsize,” he continued, running forward. There was a little shriek from Georgians, but he took no notice of it “Listen to what I say. When I cry ‘luff,' put your helm over to the left; that is the way. Perhaps there’ll be no necessity, but if the squall comes before I get back, it’s the only thing that will save us. If I say, afterward, ‘down, hard down,’ jam the tiller down with all your might.”

He stood at the foot of the mast, as he spoke, and was already untying the ropes, which held the huge sail up. I could, at that moment, have braved anything.

Down came the mainsail, clattering, Mr. Talbot pulling it in, hand over hand. A few quick, decisive knots tied it fast to the boom. The squall was now close to us, whitening the wide bay before it, roaring like the surf at high-tide in a north-easter. Mr. Talbot did not hesitate an instant, bot springing to the bow of the boat, began to let down the triangular sail, which ran from the bowsprit to the top of the mast. The canvas had half descended, and he was stooping to fasten it, when he thundered, rather than shouted, “luff, luff,” and then “down, hard down, harder.” The boat heeled over till I thought it had upset: described a quick curve in the water; and then danced up into the very teeth of the hurricane, her bow, as it plunged into the waves, throwing the spray almost over the mast-head, and completely drenching me. For a second, and while I thought we were going over, I saw the sail nearly dragged, as I thought, out of Mr. Talbot’s hands; but he pulled it down, with the strength of a Hercules, and by a rapid, dexterous turn fastened the rope to the side of the mast: all this time his eyes never leaving me and Georgiana.

“Thank God!” he said, almost under his breath, and unconsciously, I believe. His face, lately so troubled, cleared up magically, and glancing for a moment ahead, he came back to where we sat, saying cheerfully, “Now it may blow great guns, Miss Elliott, it can’t harm us: what prodigies we shall be in the eyes of every¬ body ; we have really had an adventure. Keep the tiller a little while longer, Miss Margaret, while I improvise a shelter from the storm for your cousin.”

It was quite time, for the rain, at first descending in. a few huge drops, was now pouring in a torrent, almost beating me down. Geor¬ gians, in a minute, was housed under the sail; but by that time I was drenched through. Mr. Talbot, though in no better condition, shook his head as he saw it, and taking the tiller from me, whispered,

“You’re a brave girl, Miss Gray. But go now and get under the sail too, for you’re not used to this sort of work. Oh! never mind me,” he added, interpreting my glance. “Such an old water-dog as I am Is all the better for a drenching occasionally. The squall is past, and I’ll soon carry you into port.”

CHAPTER VII.

From that day, there was a perceptible change in Mr. Talbot’s manner toward me. I did not go to the dinner table, but obeyed his parting injunction, to take a hot drink he said he would send up, and to lie down till evening. He came up, at supper, extending both hands, in a frank, unconventional way he had when pleased.

“How glad I am to see you. What a color you have. I hope you’ve taken no cold.”

“None at all,” I said, gayly. “Nor has Georgiana either."

You relieve me,” he replied. “I was almost afraid to ask, Do you know'" he added, offering me his arm, “that, for a moment, I thought it was all over. It‘it hadn‘t been for your ready apprehension of my orders, and your quick obedience, the boat would have been upset."

"And one, or all of us, been drowned,” I replied: and I shuddered slightly.

"You have never been so near death before?” he asked. Did you realize it?"

“Yes! I saw from your face how it was!"

"And wasn’t you afraid?” -