"Don"t let me lean too heavily on you," he said, looking down; "I"m big-boned, you see, and long-legged, though rather thin."
"Pooh!" said Otto, looking up, "you"re as light as a feather, and I"m as strong as a horse,--a little horse, at least. You"d better not go to the camp yet, they are not ready for you, and that sweet little delicate creature you call widow Lynch is quite able to manage them all. Come up with me to the cave. But has n.o.body said a word about _us_?"
"Not a soul. As the widow told you, I was asleep when the mate returned to the wreck. Indeed, it is not very long since I awoke. I did hear some mention in pa.s.sing of a few people being on the island, but I thought they referred to savages."
"Perhaps they were not far wrong," said Otto, with a laugh. "I do feel pretty savage sometimes, and Dominick is awful when he is roused; but we can"t count Pauline among the savages."
"Dominick! Pauline!" exclaimed the doctor. "My good fellow, explain yourself, and let us sit down on this bank while you do so. I"m so stupidly weak that walking only a few yards knocks me up."
"Well, only two or three yards further will bring you to our cave, which is just beyond that cl.u.s.ter of bushes, but it may be as well to enlighten you a little before introducing you."
In a few rapid sentences Otto explained their circ.u.mstances, and how they came to be there. He told his brief tale in sympathetic ears.
"And your own name," asked the doctor, "is--?"
"Otto Rigonda."
"Well, Otto, my boy, you and I shall be friends; I know it--I feel it."
"And I"m _sure_ of it," responded the enthusiastic boy, grasping the hand of the invalid, and shaking it almost too warmly. "But come, I want to present you to my sister. Dominick is already among the emigrants, for I saw him leave the cave and go down to the camp when you were disputing with that female grampus."
"Come, don"t begin our friendship by speaking disrespectfully of one of my best friends," said the doctor, rising; "but for widow Lynch"s tender nursing I don"t think I should be here now."
"I"ll respect and reverence her henceforth and for ever," said Otto.
"But here we are--this is the golden cave. Now you"ll have to stoop, because our door was made for short men like me--and for humble long ones like my brother."
"I"ll try to be a humble long one," said the doctor as he stooped and followed Otto into the cave.
Pauline was on her knees in front of the fire, with her back to the door, as they entered. She was stooping low and blowing at the flames vigorously.
"O Otto!" she exclaimed, without looking round, "this fire will break my heart. It _won"t_ light!"
"More company, Pina," said her brother.
Pauline sprang up and turned round with flushed countenance and disordered hair; and again Otto had the ineffable delight of seeing human beings suddenly reduced to that condition which is variously described as being "stunned," "thunderstruck," "petrified," and "struck all of a heap" with surprise.
Pauline was the first to recover self-possession.
"Really, Otto, it is too bad of you to take one by surprise so. Excuse me, sir,--no doubt you are one of the unfortunates who have been wrecked. I have much pleasure in offering you the hospitality of our humble home!"
Pauline spoke at first half jestingly, but when she looked full at the thin, worn countenance of the youth who stood speechless before her, she forgot surprise and everything else in a feeling of pity.
"But you have been ill," she continued, sympathetically; "this wreck must have--pray sit down."
She placed a little stool for her visitor beside the fire.
If Dr John Marsh had spoken the words that sprang to his lips he would have begun with "Angelic creature," but he suppressed his feelings and only stammered--
"Your b-brother, Miss Rigonda, must have a taste for taking people by surprise, for he did not tell me that--that--I--I mean he did not prepare me for--for--you are right. I think I had better sit down, for I have, as you perceive, been very ill, and am rather weak, and--and in the circ.u.mstances such an unexpected--a--"
At this critical moment Dominick fortunately entered the cave, and rescued the doctor from the quicksand, in which he was floundering.
"Oh! you must be the very man I want," he said, grasping his visitor by the hand.
"That is strange," returned the doctor, with a languid smile, "seeing that you have never met me before."
"True, my good sir; nevertheless I may venture to say that I know you well, for there"s a termagant of an Irish woman down at the camp going about wringing her hands, shouting out your good qualities in the most pathetic tones, and giving n.o.body a moment"s peace because she does not know what has become of you. Having a suspicion that my brother must have found you and brought you here, I came to see. But pray, may I ask your name, for the Irish woman only describes you as `Doctor, dear!""
"Allow me to introduce him," cried Otto, "as an old friend of mine--Dr Marsh."
Dominick looked at his brother in surprise.
"Otto is right," said the doctor, with a laugh, "at least if feeling may be permitted to do duty for time in gauging the friendship."
"Well, Dr Marsh, we are happy to make your acquaintance, despite the sadness of the circ.u.mstances," said Dominick, "and will do all we can for you and your friends; meanwhile, may I ask you to come to the camp and relieve the mind of your worshipper, for I can scarcely call her less."
Poor Dr Marsh, feeling greatly exhausted by excitement as much as by exertion, was on the point of excusing himself and begging his host to fetch the widow up to the cave, when he was saved the trouble by the widow herself, whose voice was just then heard outside.
"What"s that yer sayin", Joe?" she exclaimed in a remonstrative tone, "ye seed "im go into that rabbit-hole? Never! Don"t tell me! Arrah it"s on his hands an knees he"d have to do it."
The voice which replied was pitched in a much deeper and softer key, but it was heard distinctly to say, "Ay, widdy Lynch, that"s the door I seed him an" a boy go through; so ye"d better rap at it an" inquire."
"Faix, an" that"s jist what I"ll do, though I don"t half belave ye."
She was about to apply her large red knuckles to the door in question when her intention was frustrated and her doubts were scattered by the door opening and Dominick presenting himself.
"Come in, Mrs Lynch, come in. Your doctor is here, alive and well."
"Well, is it--ah! I wish he was! Are ye there, darlin"?"
"Yes, yes," came from within, in a laughing voice. "Here I am, Mrs Lynch, all right and comfortable. Come in."
Being excessively tall, the widow was obliged, like others, to stoop to enter; but being also excessively broad, she only got her head and shoulders through the doorway, and then, unlike others, she stuck fast.
By dint, however, of a good pull from Dominick and a gentle push from Joe, she was got inside without quite carrying away the structure which the gale of the preceding night had spared.
"Och! "tis a quare place intirely, and there is some disadvantage in bein" big--thank ye kindly, sir--but on the whole--"
She got no further, for at that moment her sharp little grey eyes fell on Pauline, and once again Otto"s heart was stirred to its profoundest depths by the expressive glare that ensued. Indeed, Dominick and Marsh were equally affected, and could not help laughing.
"Ha! ye may laugh," said the widow, with profound solemnity, "but if it"s not dramin" I am, what Father Macgrath says about ghosts is true, and--"
"I hope you don"t take _me_ for a ghost, Mrs Lynch," said Pauline, stepping forward with a kindly smile and holding out her hand.
"No, cushla! I don"t," returned the widow, accepting the hand tenderly.
"Sure it"s more like a ghost the doctor is, in spite of his larfin".
But wonders "ll niver cease. I"ll lave "im wid an aisy mind, for he"s in good hands. Now, Joe, clear out o" the door, like a good man, an"
let me through. They"ll be wantin" me at the camp. A good haul, Joe, I"m tough; no fear o" me comin" to pieces. Och! but it"s a poor cabin.
An Irish pig wouldn"t thank ye for it."