The good father was charmed. He had not seen a newspaper for six weeks.
He dragged a pair of spectacles from a pocket of his rusty ca.s.sock, set them upon his nose and hooked them over his ears, and read aloud every word save those which the skipper had torn away.
On the fourth night after his arrival Father McQueen drew a plan of the little church which he intended to build above the harbor.
"It will be the pride of the coast and a glory to Chance Along," he said. "Denny, I am proud of ye for the suggestion. Ye said ye"d give me a hundred pounds toward it, I think?"
"Fifty pound, yer reverence! Fifty pound bes what I offered ye, sir,"
returned the skipper, with dismay in his voice.
Father McQueen sighed and shook his head. A cold thrill of anxiety pa.s.sed through Dennis Nolan. With the good father displeased there would be an end of his luck. He glanced at the priest and saw that he was still shaking his head.
The skipper loved his new store of gold because it meant the beginning of a fortune and therefore the extension of his power; but on the other hand he feared that to displease the missionary now in the matter of a part of that store might turn the saints themselves against him. And without the good-will of the saints how could he expect his share of luck?--his share of wrecks?
"I has seventy-five pound for yer reverence," he said. "It bes a powerful sight of money, father dear, but ye bes welcome to it."
"It is well, my son," returned the missionary.
The skipper felt a glow of relief. He had avoided the risk of displeasing the saints and at the same time had saved twenty-five pounds. Even when you earn your money after the skipper"s method, twenty-five pounds looks like quite a considerable lump of money. He took up a candle and fetched the sum in yellow English sovereigns from his hiding-place.
Father McQueen devoted the following morning to collecting what he could from the other men of the harbor. The skipper had furnished him with a list of all who had shared in the golden harvest. It began to look as if the church would be a fine one. Not satisfied with this, he issued orders that the timber was to be cut and sawn without delay so that the building of the church should be commenced when he returned to Chance Along in June. He even drew up specifications of the lumber that would be required and the stone for the foundation. Then, leaving in the skipper"s care all the gold which he had collected for the sacred edifice, he marched st.u.r.dily away toward the north. The skipper accompanied him and carried his knapsack, for ten miles of the way.
Two days after the missionary"s departure a gale blew in from the southeast; and at the first gray of a roaring dawn the look-out from Squid Beach came hammering at the skipper"s door with news of a ship on the rocks under the cliffs a few miles along the coast. Every man and boy who could swing a leg turned out. The gear was shouldered and the skipper led the way northward at a run, lantern in hand. They found the wreck about a mile north of Squid Beach, close against the face of the cliff. She had struck with her port-bow and was listed sharply landward.
The seas beat so furiously upon her that every seventh comer washed her clean and sent the spray smoking over her splintered spars. She showed no sign of life. She lay in so desperate a place that even Black Dennis Nolan, with all his gear and wits, could do nothing but wait until the full fury of the gale should diminish.
It was close upon noon when the first line was made fast between the cliff and the broken foremast of the wreck. The wind had slackened and the seas fallen in a marked degree by this time. Looking down from the cliff the men of Chance Along could see the slanted deck, cleared of all superstructures and bulwarks, the stumps of spars with only the foremast intact to the cross-trees and a tangle of rigging, yards, canvas and tackle awash against the face of the cliff. Something--a swathed human figure, perhaps--was lashed in the fore-top.
The skipper was the first to venture a pa.s.sage from the edge of the cliff to the foremast. He made it with several life-lines around his waist. He reached the bundle lashed to the cross-trees and, clinging with hands and feet, looked into the face of an unconscious but living woman. So he hung for a long half-minute, staring. Then, hoisting himself up to a more secure position, he pulled a flask of brandy from his pocket.
So Black Dennis Nolan brought back to consciousness the person who was to be the undoing of his great plans!
CHAPTER VI
THE GIRL FROM THE CROSS-TREES
Clinging to the cross-trees, with the winter seas smoking over the slanted deck beneath him and the whole wrenched fabric of the ship quaking at every sloshing blow, Black Dennis Nolan pressed the mouth of the flask to the girl"s colorless lips. A lurch of the hull sent the brandy streaming over her face; but in a second and better-timed attempt he succeeded in forcing a little of it between her teeth. He pulled the glove from her left hand--a glove of brown leather lined with gray fur and sodden with water--and rubbed the icy palm and wrist with the liquor. There were several rings on the fingers; but he scarcely noticed them. He thought of nothing but the girl herself. Never before had he seen or dreamed of such a face as hers, and a breathless desire possessed him to see her eyes unveiled. He worked feverishly, heedless of the yeasting seas beneath, of the wind that worried at him as if it would tear him from his leaping perch, of the wealth of cargo under the reeking deck and the men of Chance Along on the edge of the cliff. He returned the glove to the left hand with fumbling fingers, stripped the other hand and rubbed it with brandy. After finishing with this and regloving it he glanced again at the girl"s face. The wet lashes stirred, the pale lids fluttered and blinked wide and two wonderful eyes gazed up at him. The eyes were clear yet with cross-lights at their depths, like the water of a still pool floored with sand and touched with the first level gleams of sunrise. They were sea-eyes--sea-gray, sea-blue, with a hint even of sea-green. Never before had the master of Chance Along seen or dreamed of such eyes.
The skipper was strangely and deeply stirred by the clear, inquiring regard of those eyes; but, despite his dreams and ambitions, he was an eminently practical young man. He extended the flask and held it to her lips with a trembling hand.
"Ye must swallow some more o" this," he said, ""Twill take the chill out o" ye."
The girl opened her lips obediently and swallowed a little of the spirits; but her crystal gaze did not waver from his face.
"Am I saved?" she asked, quietly.
"Aye, ye bes saved," answered the skipper, more than ever confused by the astonishing clearness and music of her voice and the fearless simplicity of her question. He scrambled to his feet, holding to the stump of the topmast with his right arm (for the spar whipped and sprang to the impact of every sea upon the hull), and looked at his men on the edge of the cliff. He saw that they were shouting to him, but the wind was in their teeth and so not a word of their bellowing reached him. By signals and roarings down the wind he got the order to them to bend a heavy line on to the sh.o.r.e end of one of the light lines attached to his waist. He dragged the hawser in with some difficulty, made it fast to the cross-trees, and then rigged a kind of running boatswain"s chair from a section of the loose rigging. He made the end of one line fast just below the loop of the chair on the hawser. The second line was around his chest and the ends of both were in the hands of the men ash.o.r.e. Without a word he cut the girl"s lashings, lifted her in his arms and took his seat. He waved his left arm and the lads on the cliff put their backs into the pull.
The pa.s.sage was a terrific experience though the distance between the cross-trees and the top of the cliff was not great. Neither the girl nor the skipper spoke a word. He held her tight and she hid her face against his shoulder. Fifteen of the men, under the orders of Bill Brennen, held the sh.o.r.e-end of the hawser. When the mast swung toward the cliff they took up the slack, thus saving the two from being dashed against the face of the rock, by rushing backward. When the mast whipped to seaward they advanced to the edge of the cliff. Five others hauled on each of the lines whenever the hawser was nearly taut, and paid out and pulled in with the slackening and tightening of the larger rope. But even so, the sling in which the skipper and the girl hung was tossed about desperately, now dropped toward the boiling rocks, now twirled like a leaf in the gale, and next moment jerked aloft and flung almost over the straining hawser. But the skipper had the courage of ten and the strength and endurance of two. He steadied and fended with his left hand and held the girl firmly against him with his right. She clung to him and did not whimper or struggle. A group of men, unhampered by any duty with the ropes, crouched and waited on the very edge of the cliff. At last they reached out and down, clutched the skipper and his burden, and with a mighty roar dragged them to safety.
Black Dennis Nolan staggered to his feet, still clasping the girl in his arms. He reeled away to where a clump of stunted spruces made a shelter against the gale and lowered her to the ground, still swathed in blankets.
"Start a fire, some o" ye," he commanded.
The men looked curiously at the young woman in the drenched blankets, then hastened to do the skipper"s bidding. They found dry wood in the heart of the thicket and soon had a fire burning strongly.
"What of the others? Am I the--the only one?" asked the girl.
"Aye, ye bes the only one--so far as we kin see," replied the skipper.
"There bain"t no more lashed to the spars anyhow."
She stared at him for a moment, then crouched close to the fire, covered her face with her hands, and wept bitterly. The skipper groaned. The tears of Lady Harwood had not moved him in the least; but this girl"s sobs brought a strangling pinch to his own throat. He told two lads to keep the fire burning, and then turned and walked away with lagging feet. Joining the men who were still tending the line that was attached to the wreck, he gazed down at the scene of tumult and pounding destruction without a word.
"The gale bes blowin" herself out, skipper," remarked Bill Brennen.
Nolan stared blankly for a moment, then aroused himself furiously from the strange spell that had enthralled his mind since first he had looked at the face of the girl lashed to the cross-trees. He swore violently, then flung himself full-length at the very edge of the cliff, and studied the position of the stranded vessel. He saw that she was firm on the rocks for almost half her length. She was badly ripped and stove, but her back was not broken. She seemed to be in no danger of slipping off into deep water, and as the wind and seas were moderating, she promised to hold together for several hours at least. He got to his feet and gave his opinion of the situation to the men as if it were a law.
"She bes hard an" fast," he said. "Wid the weather liftin", she"ll not fall abroad yet awhile, nor she don"t be in any risk o" slidin" astarn an" founderin". We has plenty o" time to break out the cargo, men, after the sea quiets a bit. Aye, plenty o" time to sculp her. Now, I wants four o" ye to rig up a hammock o" some sort, wid lines an" a tarpaulin, an" help me tote the lady back-along to the harbor. Step lively, men!"
A few of the men ventured to show something of the amazement which they all felt by staring at him, round-eyed and open-mouthed; but he glared them down in short order. So four of them set about the construction of a hammock and the others crowded along the cliff and gazed down at the unfortunate ship. For awhile they gazed in silence; for wonder, and the fear of the skipper, were heavy upon them. What madness was this that had so suddenly come upon him? Had prosperity and power already turned his head? Or could it be that the young woman he had found on the wreck was a fairy of some kind, and had bewitched him with the glance of her sea-eyes? Or perhaps she was a mermaid? Or perhaps she was nothing but a human who had been born on an Easter Sunday--an Easter child. Strange and potent gifts of entrancing, and of looking into the future, are bestowed upon Easter children of the female s.e.x by the fairies. Every one knows that! Whatever the girl might be, it was an astounding thing for Black Dennis Nolan to turn his back on a stranded and unlooted vessel to escort a stranger--aye, or even a friend--to shelter. They knew that, for all his overbearing and hard-fisted ways toward men, he was kind to women; but this matter seemed to them a thing of madness rather than of kindness; and never before had they known him to show any sign of infatuation. They glanced over their shoulders, and, seeing the skipper some distance off, supervising the construction of the hammock, they began to whisper and surmise.
"Did ye mark the glint in the eyes o" her, Pat?" inquired one of another. "Sure, lad, "twas like what I once see before--an" may the holy saints presarve me from seein" it agin! "Twas the day, ten year back come July, when I see the mermaid in Pike"s Arm, down nort" on the _Labrador_, when I was hook-an"-linin" for Skipper McDoul o" Harbor Grace. She popped the beautiful head o" her out o" the sea widin reach o" a paddle o" me skiff an" shot a glimp at me out o" her two eyes that turned me heart to fire an" me soul to ice, an" come pretty nigh t"rowin" me into the bay."
"Aye," returned the other in a husky whisper. "Aye, ye bes talkin" now, Tim Leary. Sure, bain"t that power o" the glimp o" the eye a mark o" the mermaid? They bewitches a man"s heart, does mermaids, an" kills the eternal soul of him! Sure, b"y! Didn"t me own great-gran"father, who sailed foreign viyages out o" Witless Bay, clap his own two eyes on to one o" they desperate sea-critters one night he was standin" his trick at the wheel, one day nort" o" Barbados? Sure, b"y! He heared a whisper behind him, like a whisper o" music, and when he turned his head "round there she was, nat"ral as any girl o" the harbor, a-gleamin" her beautiful, grand eyes at him in the moonshine. An" when he come ash.o.r.e didn"t he feel so desperate lonesome that he died o" too much rum inside the year, down on the land-wash wid his two feet in the sea?"
"Aye, Pat," returned Tim, "but I bain"t sayin" as this one bes a mermaid. She was lashed to the cross-trees like any human."
"An" that would be a mermaid"s trick," retorted the other. "Where be the other poor humans, then?"
At that moment the skipper approached.
"Mind the wrack, men," said he. "Make fast some more lines to her, if ye kin. I"ll be back wid ye afore long."
The hammock was swung on a pole. Four men and the skipper accompanied the girl from the wreck, two carrying the hammock for the first half of the journey and the relay shouldering it for the second spell. The skipper walked alongside. The girl lay back among the blankets, which had been dried at the fire, silent and with her eyes closed for the most part. It was evident that her terrible experience had sapped both her physical and mental vitality. She had been lashed to the cross-trees of the foremast soon after the ship had struck the rocks, and fully eight hours before Black Dennis Nolan had released her. The second mate, who had carried her up and lashed her there, had been flung to his death by the whipping of the mast a moment after he had made the last loop fast about her blanketed form. She had been drenched and chilled by the flying spume and the spray that burst upward and outward from the foot of the cliff. The wind had s.n.a.t.c.hed the breath from her lips, deafened her, blinded her, and driven the cold to her very bones. The swaying and leaping of the spar had at last jarred and wrenched her to a state of insensibility.
She spoke only three times during the journey.
"I would have died if I had been left there a little longer. You were brave to save me as you did. What is your name?"
"Aye, "twas a terrible place for ye," replied the skipper. "I bes Dennis Nolan, skipper o" Chance Along; an" now I bes takin" ye to my granny, Mother Nolan, an" a grand, warm house. Ye"ll have Father McQueen"s own bed, for he bes away till June, an" a fire in the chimley all day."
Her only answer was to gaze at him with a look of calm, faint interest for a moment and then close her eyes. Ten minutes later she spoke again.
"The _Royal William_ was bound for New York," she said. "There were ten pa.s.sengers aboard her. My maid was with me--a Frenchwoman."
This was Greek to the skipper, and he mumbled an unintelligible answer.