The Harbour road was thronged with people hurrying to the outside sh.o.r.e, for the news of the _Amy Readers_ disaster had spread rapidly.
As the boys, with the rejoicing Don at their heels, pelted along, Sam Morrow overtook them in a cart and told them to jump in. Sam had already been down to the sh.o.r.e and had gone back to tell his father.
As they jolted along, he screamed information at them over the shriek of the gale.
"Bad business, this! She"s pounding on a reef "bout a quarter of a mile out. They"re sure she"s going to break up--old tub, you know--leaky--rotten. The sea"s tremenjus high, and the surfs going dean over her. There can"t be no boat launched for hours yet--they"ll all be drowned. Old Paul"s down there like a madman--offering everything he"s got to the man who"ll save Oscar, but it can"t be done."
By this time they had reached the sh.o.r.e, which was black with excited people. Out on Gleeson"s Reef the ill-fated little schooner was visible amid the flying spray. A grizzled old Harbour fisherman, to whom Sam shouted a question, shook his head.
"No, can"t do nothin"! No boat c"d live in that surf f"r a moment. The schooner"ll go to pieces mighty soon, I"m feared. It"s turrible!
turrible! to stan" by an" watch yer neighbours drown like this!"
Curtis and Will elbowed their way down to the water"s edge. The relatives of the crew were all there in various stages of despair, but old Paul Stockton seemed like a man demented. He ran up and down the beach, crying and praying. His only son was on the _Amy Reade_, and he could do nothing to save him!
"What are they doing?" asked Will of Martin Clark.
"Trying to get a line ash.o.r.e by throwing out a small rope with a stick tied to it," answered Martin. "It"s young Stockton that"s trying now.
But it isn"t any use. The cross-currents on that reef are too powerful."
"Why, Don will bring that line ash.o.r.e!" exclaimed Curtis. "Here, Don!
Don, I say!"
The dog bounded back along the sh.o.r.e with a quick bark. Curtis grasped him by the collar and pointed to the stick which young Stockton had just hurled again into the water. Don, with another bark of comprehension, dashed into the sea. The onlookers, grasping the situation, gave a cheer and then relapsed into silence. Only the shriek of the gale and the crash of the waves could be heard as they watched the magnificent dog swimming out through the breakers, his big black head now rising on the crest of a wave and now disappearing in the hollow behind it. When Don finally reached the tossing stick, grasped it in his mouth and turned sh.o.r.eward, another great shout went up from the beach. A woman behind Curtis, whose husband was on the schooner, dropped on her knees on the pebbles, sobbing and thanking G.o.d. Curtis himself felt the stinging tears start to his eyes.
When Don reached the sh.o.r.e he dropped the stick at Curtis"s feet and gave himself a tremendous shake. Curtis caught at the stick, while a dozen men and women threw themselves bodily on Don, hugging him and kissing his wet fur like distracted creatures. Old Paul Stockton was among them. Over his shoulder Don"s big black head looked up, his eyes asking as plainly as speech what all this fuss was about.
Meanwhile some of the men had already pulled a big hawser ash.o.r.e and made it fast. In half an hour the crew of the _Amy Reade_ were safe on sh.o.r.e, chilled and dripping. Before they were hurried away to warmth and shelter, old Paul Stockton caught Curtis"s hand. The tears were running freely down his hard, old face.
"Tell your uncle he is not to lay a finger on that dog!" he said. "He never killed a sheep of mine--he couldn"t! And if he did I don"t care!
He"s welcome to kill them all, if nothing but mutton"ll serve his turn."
Curtis walked home with a glad heart. Mr. Locksley heard old Paul"s message with a smile. He, too, had been touched by Don"s splendid feat.
"Well, Curtis, I"m very glad that it has turned old Paul in his favour. But we must shut Don up for a week or so, no matter how hard he takes it. You can see that for yourself. After all, he might have worried the sheep. And, anyway, he must be broken of his intimacy with Ventnor"s dog."
Curtis acknowledged the justice of this and poor Don was tied up again. His captivity was not long, however, for Ventnor"s dog was soon shot. When Don was released, Curtis had an anxious time for a week or two. But no more sheep were worried, and Don"s innocence was triumphantly established. As for old Paul Stockton, it seemed as if he could not do enough for Curtis and Don. His ancient grudge against the Locksleys was completely forgotten, and from that date he was a firm friend of Curtis. In regard to Don, old Paul would say:
"Why, there never was such a dog before, sir, never! He just talks with his eyes, that dog does. And if you"d just "a" seen him swimming out to that schooner! Bones? Yes, sir! Every time that dog comes here he"s to get the best bones we"ve got for him--and more"n bones, too.
That dog"s a hero, sir, that"s what he is!"
Miss Madeline"s Proposal
"Auntie, I have something to tell you," said Lina, with a blush that made her look more than ever like one of the climbing roses that nodded about the windows of the "old Churchill place," as it was always called in Lower Wentworth.
Miss Madeline, sitting in the low rocker by the parlour window, seemed like the presiding genius of the place. Everything about her matched her sweet old-fashionedness, from the crown of her soft brown hair, dressed in the style of her long ago girlhood, to the toes of her daintily slippered feet. Outside of the old Churchill place, in the busy streets of the up-to-date little town, Miss Madeline might have seemed out of harmony with her surroundings. But here, in this dim room, faintly scented with whiffs from the rose garden outside, she was like a note in some sweet, perfect melody of old time.
Lina, sitting on a little stool at Miss Madeline"s feet with her curly head in her aunt"s lap, was as pretty as Miss Madeline herself had once been. She was also very happy, and her happiness seemed to envelop her as in an atmosphere and lend her a new radiance and charm.
Miss Madeline loved her pretty niece very dearly and patted the curly head tenderly with her slender white hands.
"What is it, my dear?"
"I"m--I"m engaged," whispered Lina, hiding her face in Miss Madeline"s flowered muslin lap.
"Engaged!" Miss Madeline"s tone was one of surprise and awe. She blushed as she said the word as deeply as Lina had done. Then she went on, with a little quiver of excitement in her voice, "To whom, my dear?"
"Oh, you don"t know him, Auntie, but I hope you will soon. His name is Ralph Wylde. Isn"t it pretty? I met him last winter, and we became very good friends. But we had a quarrel before I came down here and, oh, I have been so unhappy over it. Three weeks ago he wrote me and begged my pardon--so nice of him, because I was really all to blame, you know. And he said he loved me and--all that, you know."
"No, I don"t know," said Miss Madeline gently. "But--but--I can imagine."
"Oh, I was so happy. I wrote back and I had this letter from him today. He is coming down tomorrow. You"ll be glad to see him, won"t you, Auntie?"
"Oh, yes, my dear, and I am glad for your sake--very glad. You are sure you love him?"
"Yes, indeed," said Lina, with a little laugh, as if wondering how anyone could doubt it.
Presently, Miss Madeline said in a shy voice, "Lina, did--did you ever receive a proposal of marriage from anybody besides Mr. Wylde?"
Lina laughed roguishly. "Why, yes, Auntie, ever so many. A dozen, at least."
"Oh, my dear!" cried Miss Madeline in a slightly shocked tone.
"But I did, really. Sometimes it was horrid and sometimes it was funny. It all depended on the man. Dear me, how red and uncomfortable most of them looked--all but the fifth. He was so cool and business like that he almost surprised me into accepting him."
"And--and what did you feel like, Lina?"
"Oh, frightened, mostly--but I always wanted to laugh too. You must know how it is yourself, Auntie. What did you feel like when somebody proposed to you?"
Miss Madeline flushed from chin to brow.
"Oh, Lina," she faltered as if she were confessing something very disgraceful, yet to which she was impelled by her strict truthfulness, "I--I--never had a proposal in my life--not one."
Lina opened her big brown eyes in amazement. "Why, Aunt Madeline! And you so pretty! What was the reason?"
"I"ve often wondered," said Miss Madeline faintly. "I _was_ pretty, as you say--it"s so long ago I can say that now. And I had many gentlemen friends. But n.o.body ever wanted to marry me. I sometimes wish that--that I could have had just one proposal. Not that I wanted to marry, you know, I do not mean that, but just so that it wouldn"t have seemed that I was different from anybody else. It is very foolish of me to wish it, I know, and even wicked--for if I had not cared for the person it would have made him very unhappy. But then, he would have forgotten and I would have remembered. It would always have been something to be a little proud of."
"Yes," said Lina absently; her thoughts had gone back to Ralph.
That evening a letter was left at the front door of the old Churchill place. It was addressed in a scholarly hand to Miss Madeline Churchill, and Amelia Kent took it in. Amelia had been Miss Madeline"s "help" for years and had grown grey in her service. In Amelia"s loyal eyes Miss Madeline was still young and beautiful; she never doubted that the letter was for her mistress. n.o.body else there was ever addressed as "Miss Madeline."
Miss Madeline was sitting by the window of her own room watching the sunset through the elms and reading her evening portion of Thomas a Kempis. She never liked to be disturbed when so employed but she read her letter after Amelia had gone out.
When she came to a certain paragraph, she turned very pale and Thomas a Kempis fell to the floor unheeded. When she had finished the letter she laid it on her lap, clasped her hands, and said, "Oh, oh, oh," in a faint, tremulous voice. Her cheeks were very pink and her eyes very bright. She did not even pick up Thomas a Kempis but went to the door and called Lina.
"What is it, Auntie?" asked Lina curiously, noticing the signs of unusual excitement about Miss Madeline.
Miss Madeline held out her letter with a trembling hand.