"Wouldn"t I?" said the boy, as his eyes flashed wildly.
"You are in want of clothes, and you could go to Sweeney"s and get measured for a suit."
"I do not care for the clothes; but I"d like the sail. Isn"t Tim Hennesy to go?"
"Hennesy is not to go. Maher is to command the boat."
"I"d rather have Tim; but I don"t care."
"Be ready, then, in half an hour."
"I"m ready now."
"I mean, get another coat, something warmer, for you"ll be out one night at least; and put your woollen wrapper round your throat. Molly will give it to you."
"There"s thunder!" cried the boy; "I hope it won"t lull the wind. It"s blowing fiercely now."
"You"re a good swimmer, ain"t you?"
"I can beat every one but Tim."
"And what would you do if you were upset?"
"Hold on by the boat, or a spar."
"Till you were picked up? But if none came to pick you up?"
"Hold on still, till I was near enough to swim."
"And if you didn"t get near enough?"
"Go down, I suppose," said the boy, with a laugh. "One can always do that!"
Luttrell nodded, and after a moment said, "Get ready now, for here"s Maher coming for orders."
CHAPTER XVII. THE NOR"-WESTER
The day--a dark and stormy one--was drawing to a close as the yawl got under weigh. She was manned by a stout crew of five hardy islanders; for although Maher had selected but three to accompany him, Tim Hennesy volunteered, and, indeed, jumped on board, as the boat sheered off, without leave asked or given. Luttrell had parted with his boy in his habitual impa.s.sive way--reminded him that he was under Tom Maher"s orders, equally on sh.o.r.e as on board--that he trusted to hear a good account of him on his return, and then said a cold "good-by," and turned away.
When Harry, who rarely had so long an interview with his father, left the room, he felt a sort of relief to think it was over; he had been neither punished nor scolded, even the warning that was given was very slight, and uttered in no unkindness.
"Give me a kiss, Molly, and throw an old shoe after me, for luck!" cried he, gaily, as he reached the door. "We"ve got the big yawl, and though Tom has put two reefs in the mainsail, won"t I make him shake them out when we"re well out to sea!"
"I"ll just go and tell the master this minit, then," said she, eagerly, "and you"ll see what he"ll say to you."
"Will you be quiet?" said he, catching hold of her ap.r.o.n to detain her; "wasn"t I only joking? I"m to be under Tom"s orders, and of course I"ll obey him."
There was a waggish drollery in the way he said this that by no means rea.s.sured her, but taking his hand, she walked down to the beach beside him, telling him to be careful of himself, and do nothing rash, and to mind what Tom Maher said, and, above all, to remember he was the last of the family, and if anything was to happen to him there was an end of the name for ever.
"And don"t you think, Molly, that the world would continue to go round, even if it lost us, great as we are?"
"Ah, ye"re a young imp! that"s what ye are;" said she, wiping a tear from her eye as she spoke. ""Tis wishin" them well I am, the same clothes. I"d rather see you in a suit of sealskin, than sent out on such a day as this, just to be measured by a tailor."
"You"d dress me worse than Brian O"Lynn, Molly," said the boy, with a merry laugh. "Did you ever hear what he did for a watch?"
"Arrah! what do I care what he did."
"Here it is, and very ingenious, too," said he:
"Bryan O"Lynn had no watch to put on, So he scooped out a turnip to make him a one, He then put a cricket clean under the skin, "They"ll think it is ticking," says Bryan O"Lynn."
"May I never!" began she, trying to reprove his levity; but as he stepped into the boat at the same instant, her grief overcame all else, and she burst into tears. She threw her ap.r.o.n over her face to hide her emotion; but she suddenly drew it down as a wild cry, half yell, half cheer, broke from the fishermen on the sh.o.r.e; a squall had struck the boat just as she got under weigh, and though she lay over, reeling under the shock, she righted n.o.bly again, and stood out boldly to sea.
"There"s not a finer craft in the King"s navy," said a very old man, who had once been a pilot. "I"d not be afeerd to go to "Quaybeck" in her."
"Come up and taste a dhrop of sperits this wet day," whispered Molly in his ear, for his words were a balm to her aching heart.
At first from the window of his lonely room, and then, when the boat had rounded the point of land, and could be no more seen, from a little loopholed slit in the tower above him, Luttrell watched her course. Even with his naked eye he could mark the sheets of spray as they broke over the bow and flew across her, and see how the strong mast bent like a whip, although she was reduced to her very shortest sail, and was standing under a double-reefed mainsail, and a small storm-jib. Not another boat, not another sail of any kind was to be seen; and there seemed something heroically daring in that little barque, that one dark speck, as it rose and plunged, seen and lost alternately in the rolling sea.
It was only when he tried to look through the telescope, and found that his hand shook so much that he could not fix the object, that he himself knew how agitated he was. He drew his hand across his brow and found it clammy, with a profuse and cold perspiration. By this time it was so dark that he had to grope his way down the narrow stairs to his room below. He called for Molly. "Who was that you were talking to? I heard a strange roice without there."
"Old Moriarty, the pilot, your honour; I brought him in out of the wet to dry himself."
"Send him in here to me," said Luttrell, who, throwing a root of oak on the fire, sat down with his back to the door, and where no light should fall upon his face.
"It"s blowing fresh, Moriarty," said he, with an affected ease of manner, as the old man entered and stood nigh the door.
"More than fresh, your honour. It"s blowin" hard."
"You say that, because you haven"t been at sea these five-and-twenty years; but it"s not blowing as it blew the night I came up from Clew, no, nor the day that we rounded Tory Island."
"Maybe not; but it"s not at its worst yet," said the old fellow, who was ill-pleased at the sneer at his seamanship.
"I don"t know what the fellows here think of such weather, but a crew of Norway fishermen--ay, or a set of Deal boatmen--would laugh at it."
"Listen to that now, then," said the other, "and it"s no laughing matter;" and as he spoke a fierce gust of wind tore past, carrying the spray in great sheets, and striking against the walls and windows with a clap like thunder. "That was a squall to try any boat!"
"Not a boat like the large yawl!"
"If it didn"t throw two tons of water aboard of her, my name isn"t Moriarty."
"Master Harry is enjoying it, I"m certain," said Luttrell, trying to seem at ease.
"Well! It"s too much for a child," said the old man, sorrowfully.