Besides being long-limbed, Nikel Sling was nimble. He distanced his pursuers easily, and, as we have seen, swam off and reached his ship almost as soon as they gained the end of the wharf.
The above narration was made much more abruptly and shortly than we have presented it, for oars were soon heard in the water, and it behoved the poor hunted cook to secrete himself in case they should take a fancy to search the vessel. Just as the boat came within a few yards of the ship he hastily went below.
"Boat ahoy!" shouted Tim Rokens; "wot boat"s that?"
The men lay on their oars.
"Have you a madman on board your ship?" inquired the gatekeeper of the hospital, whose wrath at the unceremonious treatment he had received had not yet cooled down.
"No," answered Rokens, laying his arms on the bulwarks, and looking down at his questioner with a sly leer; "no, we ha"n"t, but you"ve got a madman aboord that boat."
"Who"s that?" inquired the warder, who did not at first understand the sarcasm.
"Why, yourself, to be sure," replied Rokens, "an" the sooner you takes yourself off, an" comes to an anchor in a loo-natick asylum, the better for all parties consarned."
"No, but I"m in earnest, my man--"
"_As_ far as that goes," interrupted the imperturbable Rokens, "so am I."
"The man," continued the gatekeeper, "has run out of the hospital with a smashed head, I calc"late, stark starin" mad, and gone off the end o"
the w"arf into the water--"
"You don"t mean it!" shouted Rokens, starting with affected surprise.
"Now you _are_ a fine fellow, ain"t you, to be talkin" here an" wastin"
time while a poor feller-mortal is bein" drownded, or has gone and swummed off to sea--p"r"aps without chart, compa.s.s, or rudder! Hallo, lads! tumble up there! Man overboard! tumble up, tumble up!"
In less than three minutes half-a-dozen men sprang up the hatchway, hauled up the gig which swung astern, tumbled into it, and began to pull wildly about the harbour in search of the drowning man. The shouts and commotion roused the crews of the nearest vessels, and ere long quite a fleet of boats joined in the search.
"Wos he a big or a little feller?" inquired Rokens, panting from his exertions, as he swept up to the boat containing the hospital warder, round which several of the other boats began to congregate.
"A big fellow, I guess, with legs like steeples. He was sloping when they floored him. A thief, I expect he must ha" bin."
"A thief!" echoed Rokens, in disgust; "why didn"t ye say, so at first?
If he"s a thief, he"s born to be hanged, so he"s safe and snug aboard his ship long ago, I"ll be bound. Good-night t"ye, friend, and better luck next time."
A loud laugh greeted the ears of the discomfited warder as the crews of the boats dipped their oars in the water and pulled towards, their respective ships.
Next morning, about daybreak, little Alice Dunning came on board her father"s ship, accompanied by her two aunts, who, for once, became utterly and publicly regardless of appearances and contemptuous of all propriety, as they sobbed on the child"s neck and positively refused to be comforted.
Just as the sun rose, and edged the horizon with a gleam of liquid fire, the _Red Eric_ spread her sails and stood out to sea.
CHAPTER FIVE.
DAY DREAMS AND ADVENTURES AMONG THE CLOUDS--A CHASE, A BATTLE, AND A VICTORY.
Early morning on the ocean! There is poetry in the idea; there is music in the very sound. As there is nothing new under the sun, probably a song exists with this or a similar t.i.tle; if not, we now recommend it earnestly to musicians.
Ailie Dunning sat on the bulwarks of the _Red Eric_, holding on tightly by the mizzen-shrouds, and gazing in open-eyed, open-mouthed, inexpressible delight upon the bright calm sea. She was far, far out upon the bosom of the Atlantic now. Sea-sickness--which during the first part of the voyage, had changed the warm pink of her pretty face into every imaginable shade of green--was gone, and the hue of health could not now be banished even by the rudest storm. In short, she had become a thorough sailor, and took special delight in turning her face to windward during the wild storm, and drinking-in the howling blast as she held on by the rigid shrouds, and laughed at the dashing spray--for little Ailie was not easily frightened. Martha and Jane Dunning had made it their first care to implant in the heart of their charge a knowledge of our Saviour"s love, and especially of His tenderness towards, and watchful care over, the lambs of His flock. Besides this, little Ailie was naturally of a trustful disposition. She had implicit confidence in the strength and wisdom of her father, and it never entered into her imagination to dream that it was possible for any evil to befall the ship which _he_ commanded.
But, although Ailie delighted in the storm, she infinitely preferred the tranquil beauty and rest of a "great calm," especially at the hour just before sunrise, when the freshness, brightness, and lightness of the young day harmonised peculiarly with her elastic spirit. It was at this hour that we find her alone upon the bulwarks of the _Red Eric_.
There was a deep, solemn stillness around, that irresistibly and powerfully conveyed to her mind the idea of rest. The long, gentle undulation of the deep did not in the least detract from this idea. So perfect was the calm, that several ma.s.ses of clouds in the sky, which shone with the richest saffron light, were mirrored in all their rich details as if in a gla.s.s. The faintest possible idea of a line alone indicated, in one direction, where the water terminated and the sky began. A warm golden haze suffused the whole atmosphere, and softened the intensity of the deep-blue vault above.
There was, indeed, little variety of object to gaze upon--only the water and the sky. But what a world of delight did not Ailie find in that vast sky and that pure ocean, that reminded her of the sea of gla.s.s before the great white throne, of which she had so often read in Revelation. The towering ma.s.ses of clouds were so rich and thick, that she almost fancied them to be mountains and valleys, rocks and plains of golden snow. Nay, she looked so long and so ardently at the rolling mountain heights in the sky above, and their magical counterparts in the sky below, that she soon, as it were, _thought herself into_ Fairyland, and began a regular journey of adventures therein.
Such a scene at such an hour is a source of gladsome, peaceful delight to the breast of man in every stage of life; but it is a source of unalloyed, bounding, exhilarating, romantic, unspeakable joy only in the years of childhood, when the mind looks hopefully forward, and before it has begun--as, alas! it must begin, sooner or later--to gaze regretfully back.
How long Ailie would have sat in motionless delight it is difficult to say. The man at the wheel having nothing to do, had forsaken his post, and was leaning over the stern, either lost in reverie, or in a vain effort to penetrate with his vision the blue abyss to the bottom. The members of the watch on deck were either similarly engaged or had stowed themselves away to sleep in quiet corners among blocks and cordage. No one seemed inclined to move or speak, and she would probably have sat there immovable for hours to come, had not a hand fallen gently on her shoulder, and by the magic of its simple contact scattered the bright dreams of Fairyland as the finger-touch destroys the splendour of the soap-bubble.
"Oh! Glynn," exclaimed Ailie, looking round and heaving a deep sigh; "I"ve been away--far, far away--you can"t believe how far."
"Away, Ailie! Where have you been?" asked Glynn, patting the child"s head as he leaned over the gunwale beside her.
"In Fairyland. Up in the clouds yonder. Out and in, and up and down.
Oh, you"ve no idea. Just look." She pointed eagerly to an immense towering cloud that rose like a conspicuous landmark in the centre of the landscape of the airy world above. "Do you see that mountain?"
"Yes, Ailie; the one in the middle, you mean, don"t you? Yes, well?"
"Well," continued the child, eagerly and hurriedly, as if she feared to lose the thread of memory that formed the warp and woof of the delicate fabric she had been engaged in weaving; "well, I began there; I went in behind it, and I met a fairy--not really, you know, but I tried to think I met one, so I began to speak to her, and then I made her speak to me, and her voice was so small and soft and sweet. She had on silver wings, and a star--a bright star in her forehead--and she carried a wand with a star on the top of it too. So I asked her to take me to see her kingdom, and I made her say she would--and, do you know, Glynn, I really felt at last as if she didn"t wait for me to tell her what to say, but just went straight on, answering my questions, and putting questions to me in return. Wasn"t it funny?
"Well, we went on, and on, and on--the fairy and me--up one beautiful mountain of snow and down another, talking all the time so pleasantly, until we came to a great dark cave; so I made up my mind to make a lion come out of it; but the fairy said, `No, let it be a bear;" and immediately a great bear came out. Wasn"t it strange? It really seemed as if the fairy had become real, and could do things of her own accord."
The child paused at this point, and looking with an expression of awe into her companion"s face, said--"Do you think, Glynn, that people can _think_ so hard that fairies _really_ come to them?"
Glynn looked perplexed.
"No, Ailie, I suspect they can"t--not because we can"t think hard enough, but because there are no fairies to come."
"Oh, I"m _so_ sorry!" replied the child sadly.
"Why?" inquired Glynn.
"Because I love them _so_ much--of course, I mean the good ones. I don"t like the bad ones--though they"re very useful, because they"re nice to kill, and punish, and make examples of, and all that, when the good ones catch them."
"So they are," said the youth, smiling. "I never thought of that before. But go on with your ramble in the clouds."
"Well," began Ailie; "but where was I?"
"Just going to be introduced to a bear."
"Oh yes; well--the bear walked slowly away, and then the fairy called out an elephant, and after that a "noceros--"
"A "noceros!" interrupted Glynn; "what"s that?"
"Oh, you know very well. A beast with a thick skin hanging in folds, and a horn on its nose--"
"Ah, a _rhi_noceros--I see. Well, go on, Ailie."