Lockwood Godwin. A tale of Irish life

Chapter I

The waves, lead colour and crested with white, rolled sullenly along and broke against the rocks with the dull roar of distant thunder. The sky, from which they took their colour, or rather their want of it, had a heavy, threatening look which the French express in one word " sinistre." Low down on the western horizon a break occurred, and a broad beam of light shot suddenly out, changing the rising curves of the approaching waves into varied shades of green, and striking a bold headland, illumined the figure of a girl who stood there half leaning against a rock. She was tall and graceful with the grace proceeding from perfect proportion and strength. Her face, to which one's eyes returned involuntarily, was the face of one whom a lonely youth, acting on a strong imagination, had forced to look through hfe's outward seeming to the ideal, which indeed was often more real to her than the actual events of ber hfe.

Her forehead, from which masses of Ught brown hair were pushed carelessly back, was very broad ; her grey eyes were set rather wide apart ; her mouth was firm and singularly sweet. The well-formed though not very white hand resting on the rock beside her, told its own secret, not lying passively, but even then unconsciously grasping the rock with a firm ness that told of latent power which would develop into strong action, or into the highest form of endurance, according to the circumstances of her Use. As she stood there, her face raised to the strange sky, her B expression was one of intense sadness, indeed in her happiest moments there was a pathos about her which, though one could not analyze its source, went straight to the heart. Living as she did on a coast noted for its bold and picturesque scenery, the influence of her surroundings bad sunk deeply into her life, and she was keenly sensitive to each change of light and shadow that swept over the wide and ever varying expanse of sky and sea.

The menacing gloom of the sky weighed on her like a physical burden, conveying to her spirit with clearer significance than the utterance of any spoken language a sense of weUd depression. In vain she endeavoured to shake it off — an undefinable presentiment seemed to fill the heavy air, a sense of foreboding which there was nothing more than usual in the circumstances of her life to justify. A large steam yacht came into the line of vision ; the smoke hung thick and black above her funnels, tbe aU being too still to carry it away ; her dark hull seemed sometimes almost to disappear in the water, then rose slowly into view, as she rolled heavily on the long swell. " Can my feelings be in some mysterious way connected with the arrival of that vessel ? " thought the girl with an amused half-smile ; " I could almost fancy that they were."

She turned, with a sense of relief so great that it almost amounted to joy, to greet the sunshine that sprang out from the break in the clouds like a golden river, gradually widening till it poured in a glorious flood over the long Une of cliffs and the heaving sea. ' ' The deck of the yacht was but thinly inhabited. A com fortable-looking elderly lady was belying her natural appear ance by making frantic efforts to secure the deck-chair in which she was sitting, which had cast adrift from its moorings, and seemed about to circumnavigate the deck, to the extreme dismay of its occupant, who, nevertheless, could not muster sufficient courage to quit its doubtful safety for the sloping planks of the deck. She looked helplessly at her nearest neighbour, a thin, sallow-faced gentleman, with hat pressed over his brows, and overcoat buttoned up to his throat ; he, however, was absorbed in the contemplation of his own discomforts.

A young lady, who for some time had been trying to walk the deck, clinging to a gentleman's arm, was at this moment precipitated against the skylight ; being rescued by her companion, they both proceeded to a secluded corner, giving up the vain endeavour. No help to be looked for from them. The captain from the bridge cast an amused glance in her direction, and prepared to descend to assist her in her pre dicament, but before he had reached the stairs matters had come to a crisis. The vessel rolled slowly to starboard, the back of the chair came against the bulwarks with a crash, and to eyes at leisure to appreciate it the sky-view was extensive — a second's pause — then a swift lurch to port — the chair toboganned down the hill of the deck with lightning speed, and brought up short by the side of a young man who was leaning on the bulwarks studying the features of the land, and who turned in amazement at the sudden arrival and the lady's breathless exclamations.

" Oh, Mr. Godwin," she gasped, looking round with a bewildered expression, not seeming quite sure whether or not she had come to a standstill. A very pleasant face looked down at her, and a very pleasant voice answered her, as Mr. Godwin's strong hands helped her to her feet and kept her there. " You are not hurt I think, Mrs. Carruthers ; and now we must make for a place of safety before the next roll." " Oh yes — wait, wait, Mr. Godwin — look at this dreadful wave coming ! Oh dear me ! I'll go down — no more of this for me." With great difficulty she was piloted down the companion stairs into the saloon and deposited in an arm cbaU, and was soon able to enjoy a hearty laugh over her impromptu journey. " None but the young and active should go to sea ; to-day has convinced me of that. Look," she added ruefully, holding up for her companion's inspection a silken tangle out of which protruded a knitting needle, " the other has found a watery grave, I suppose."

" Not quite so bad as that ; it is here, caught in your braid. I am afraid my endeavours would only complicate matters as far as this mysterious web is concerned." " I am afraid so indeed." The yacht was considerably closer to the headland when the young man regained the deck and took up his old position by the bulwarks. He was tall and strongly built, with a proud carriage that was utterly unstudied. His features were good, his eyes and hair dark ; but these things were forgotten after the first few glances. His expression was grave rather than otherwise, yet his gravity was ever ready to give place to laugh or smile, while his face still retained its thoughtfulness. Wherein the peculiarity that made his good looks a secondary consideration, even to casual acquaintances, consisted, it was at first difficult to decide.

Indeed it was only after a time that one noticed that there was a peculiarity ; but his acquaintances began almost from the first to depend on his help in little every-day events, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that they should do so, and to experience a pleasant sense of rest in his presence. " Were it not for a certain proportion of mental indolence you would be a ' knight errant,' Lockwood," his mother had once said to him, and it was true. He possessed that rarest of all gifts, a truly sympathetic nature wholly free from weakness. His eyes were fixed on the headland, and he was trying to make out the girl's figure on the point, when it was suddenly illumined by the light from the setting sun. He saw her turn, and with an involuntary movement stretch out her arms to the splendour, and watched her figure outlined against the leaden sky as long as he could see it.

The sudden brightness had caught the yacht, showing out her graceful form, gilding her slender masts, and reflecting itself in a dazzling sparkle from some brass-work on the deck. The girl watched her till the last ray had disappeared. She glanced once over the dark sea, from which a moaning sound seemed to rise. The waves struck the rocks with a sharper splash, and a puff of wind full of salt spray blew in her face. A long ray of white light flashed out into the sombre evening. It came from the lighthouse on the next headland. " There will be a storm to-night. I hope that yacht wiU round the headland safely," she said to herself, still Ungering, as though unwilling to leave the beautfful vessel to the mercy of the night and the storm. A narrow footpath led from the cliff to a little village nestling in the hollow.

The old ivy-covered church was lighted for service, and as she passed, in clear and glowing colours on the darkness the stained-glass window showed Christ with uplifted hand, saying to the tempest, " Peace, be still." The light of the flames from the quaint pyramid-roofed smithy threw a cheerful glow across the Uttle street, and the cottage interiors looked warm and bright. The girl sighed as she went out into the darkness beyond. She turned in at an iron gate, and as she went up the avenue the wind came in a tremendous gust, sobbing among the great trees, whose boughs swayed and tossed in the darkness. Outlined in deeper gloom against the gloomy night, an old house rose before her as she turned the sweep of the drive. Not a light was visible in the windows. She paused for an instant breathless, with ber hand on a stone lion at the top of the steps, whde the wind swept against her, so that she could scarcely keep on her feet ; then she went along the terrace and entered by a side door.

Inside all was pitch darkness, through which she made her way unhesitatingly to a staircase that led into the long corridor of the western wing. From this a narrow uncarpeted stair at an unexpected angle led up to a turret room of fair size with three windows. The storm had now burst forth in all its fury. As she lighted a storm lantern which stood on tbe table, a wild gust of wind dashed the rain against the seaward window, then howled and moaned round the house. She pulled aside the heavy curtains and opened the window a little. As she did so, the flame flared up for an instant. She was so absorbed gazing out into the darkness that she did not hear the door and a voice call her by name, and she started as a hand was laid on her shoulder. " Miss Maia, are you mad ? Your hair and your dress are soaking, and there's a regular hurricane in the room.

Dear, dear, whatever are you thinking of to stay out in such a storm ! Was ever the like 1 It will just be the death of you. And what are you thinking about now ? " " About a ship that is out there, Mrs. Norrie." " May the Lord have mercy on her on a night like this," said the old woman softly, shutting down the window. " Would it be a schooner now, dearie? " "No, Nannie ; a pleasure boat I think — a steam yacht." " God help them— God help them. Come from the window, dearie." " Yes, come to the warmth and comfort, and let them perish in the sea. What has it to do with us ? " cried Maia passionately. " Oh, to know that such things happen, and that we are powerless — powerless to help them." " We can help them sometimes, dearie." " Yes, and for one that we help a dozen are sucked down into those horrible depths; and you, Nannie — you who— - There — never mind."

"Where were you all the time, Miss May? I've been in such a fright that your uncle would call for you. Now drink this tea and change your dress, for he wants you in the library." " Do you know what he wants me for? " asked Maia, as the old woman helped her to get ready, grumbling all the time over what she considered the insufficient amount of light emitted by the lamp. " Was there ever the like of you, Miss May ? A body would think you were a poor fisher lass that could not afford a decent light. Surely you have enough to remind you of storms without the very light you dress by. What did your uncle want? Well, dearie," she said hesitatingly, a worried expression on ber wrinkled face, " Sir Linley Knighton is there." Maia said nothing, but stood looking down into the fire, which Mrs. Norrie was vainly trying to coax into a flame.

" Do hurry, missie. The master wUl be so angry if yovi delay." " Let me try," said Maia, taking no notice, but pushing the old woman gently aside, and kneeUng down on the rug. Presently a little flame flashed boldly out, then frightened at its own courage died away, then a little gas jet spurted up in a weird blue blaze, " like the lights of a ship in distress," thought Maia. At last the flame burnt steadily, the black coals beginning to show their amber heart. "Your sweetheart is thinking of you, missie." A strange, bright, wistful look flashed over the girl's face for a second. " You know I have no sweetheart, Nannie." "Sir Linley Knighton? " The angry colour rushed to Maia's face ; she rose quickly and moved away. " I only meant, dearie, that he admired you." " Well, don't say it again, Nannie."

She kissed the old woman, and went slowly down-stairs. Mrs. Norrie looked after her sadly, and gave a long sigh as she busied herself putting the room in order. " I just wish a nice young man would come after her," she thought. " Oh, but this is an awful room," as the wind rose into a prolonged roar ; " if Miss May could only be persuaded to change it. If I don't think she sits up half the night thinking of the ships at sea — good Lord help them." Maia reached the library door, and turned the handle slowly, hngeringly, yet withal firmly. Two gentlemen were seated in the firelight, which threw fantastic shadows about the comfortable old room. One rose at her entrance and came forward. He was a tall young man, very conscious of his fine figure; his face of that type of fairness that inclines to red on the sUghtest provocation from sun or wind; his bright blue eyes were small and keen, their habitual expression scarcely reassuring to any desirous of soliciting a favour of him.

Altogether the impression he produced upon highly-sensitive natures was not a favourable one, although there were many others who entertained a great admiration for him. " The pleasure of seeing you, Miss Fordyce, almost atones for the delay in obtaining it," he remarked, with a slight sarcastic emphasis. The wonderful power of the human voice to soothe or irri tate the nerves was exemplified to its fullest extent in the case of Sir Linley Knighton — his voice, irrespective of the words he uttered, never failed to sound discordantly in Maia's ears. She turned to her uncle, who sharply demanded the cause of her delay in answering his summons. " I had not long come in." Mr. Butledge frowned ; his dark face bore the impress of habitual ill-temper, and spoke of an imperious will, untamed by age.

He had seen vicissitudes in his younger days. His father, an officer in the Indian army, had been killed in the Kbyber Pass; and his mother, a Miss Treherne of Treherne Hall, who had married Colonel Butledge against her father's wishes, had been cast off by him till just before her death, when, he had written asking her to come home with her son and daughter, who were then grown-up, as he intended to make the son his heir. Mrs. Rutledge was on her death-bed when the letter arrived, and her son, deeply affected by her death, left it unanswered for some time. After his sister's marriage to Lieutenant Fordyce he sailed for England. He was not of a forgiving disposition, and could not forget Mr. Treherne's treatment of his mother ; but the old gentleman's remorse, which was sincere, softened his feelings, and they managed to get on, if not amiably, at least without any open quarrel, for the ten years that intervened between his arrival and Mr. Treherne's death.

When Maia was about fourteen her parents died, and Mr. Rutledge brought her home to Treherne Hall. He had given her a hearty welcome, and had determined to make her happy, but as he insisted that every one should be happy in his way, and as he was quite incapable of understanding his niece, the result was not a success. However, he had a certain amount of affection for her, and was proud of her in his way ; and as she had not crossed his will in any great matter till lately, he had never displayed any harshness towards her. But during the last six months things had changed considerably. Sir Linley Knighton, owner of the adjoining estate, had returned from foreign travel, and had since been paying his addresses to Maia. Mr. Rutledge, who was ambitious, and who desired above all things to see Maia mistress of Knighton Court, with Sir Linley's unembarrassed rent-roll at her command, encour aged him in every way; and he became a frequent visitor at Treherne Hall, in spite of the coldness with which Maia had invariably treated him since she had made the discovery that she was the cause of his coming.

The only effect of her coldness, however, was to infuriate her uncle, and, acting on Sir Linley's vanity, his most vul nerable point, to make him only more obstinately bent on winning her. " May I ask where you spent the afternoon, Miss Fordyce?" " On the cliff, Sir Linley." " I must confess I fail to understand the attraction that cliff possesses for you. To me, on a day like this, it seems the most dreary place imaginable." "It was most injudicious of you, Maia, to stay there so long with a storm coming on," said Mr. Rutledge, flinging himself back in his chair. Maia said nothing — she sat looking into the fire. " I had a letter this morning from my sister, Mrs. Barnard," observed Sir Linley presently. " She is in Naples just now — the Owens are there. She says Colonel Owen and his wife don't hit it off at all."

" Don't they ? " asked Mr. Rutledge carelessly. " It is no surprise to me. 1 always thought there was something wrong between them; she married him for his money, and he — well, I suppose he admUed her. She was pretty, you know, but a fool." Maia watched him for a moment as he began a detaUed account of the gossip current among the English residents of Naples ; then she turned to her own thoughts, leaving the two men to theU conversation. She was roused by hearing her uncle say — " Then you really must go ? The storm is growing wilder every moment." " I am sorry to say I positively must. I should have started half-an-hour ago." At this moment a servant entered with a message for Mr. Rutledge, and the latter left the room. "Miss Fordyce," said Sir Linley, approaching Maia, "why do you always treat me with such coldness?

You must know what my feehngs towards you are — indeed I have told you more than once. Will you not answer me ? " he went on, as Maia was silent. "I know what you think your feelings towards me are, Sir Linley ; it is for that reason that I have treated you with coldness." Maia spoke with an effort. She felt tbat she would gladly put an end to scenes like this once for all, but Sir Linley was not sensitive. " You don't consider my feelings at all," he went on, as if be had not heard her. " Do you think it is nothing that I should come all this distance to see you on such an evening? " " I am sorry that you should have taken the trouble to come." "You know very well, Maia, that I could not stay away, and I should not have minded the trouble if you had shown that you were glad to see me." " I am not," said Maia.

The simple words cost her a great deal to utter, as antagonism to any one was wholly foreign to her nature. SU Linley smiled. It was the strongest proof of how little he understood her that he gave no credence to the statement. His eyes rested on her as she stood before him. He could appreciate the graceful lines of her figure and the fairness of her face. Even the shadow in her beautiful eyes was not lost on him ; he said to himself, " She will be a worthy mistress of Knighton Court, let her enjoy her waywardness for a week or two longer." " Sir Linley's dog-cart is waiting," said the servant, and Maia gladly welcomed the interruption. She sat by the fire for some time after Sir Linley Knighton had gone. She looked forward to no pleasant interview with her uncle, who was always in an unamiable frame of mind after Sir Linley's visits ; but when he came in hastily, a few minutes later, there was no trace of anger in his manner, though he was evidently excited.

" There is a vessel on the ' Ledge,' Maia," he said, " see that everything is ready in case any one should be saved. I am going down to the beach." Maia rose hastily, and calling Mrs. Norrie, set the servants to work. As soon as she had seen that everything that could possibly be wanted was in readiness, she caught up a shawl and, followed by the old woman, left the house. In the avenue they were comparatively sheltered, but when they emerged on the cliff-path they were exposed to the full fury of the gale. Again and again they had to crouch breathless before it, taking advantage of every rise in the ground, but again and again they went on, Maia's strong arm assisting Mrs. Norrie's feebler steps. Suddenly a blue light sprang up from the sea — for a few seconds they watched it in dead silence— then in a lull of the wind a gun was heard.

That terrible sound struck like a knell on the hearts of both women. Often had they heard it before with its dread accompaniments of roaring wind and dashing rain, and that terrible muffled thunder, which they knew from long experience to be the voice of Ocean. Soon most of the household were hurrying down to the beach ; a wreck was an event of such terrible moment that everything gave place to it. " It is too wild for you, Nannie," said Maia breathlessly, as the wind nearly took the old woman off her feet. • " Too wild for me, missie — and I the widow of a sailor ! No storm has ever been too wild for me since the night I stood on the rocks and saw the Garnet with my man and my two lads on board of her founder before my eyes." Maia took the old woman's hard hand in hers, and they descended the cliff-path.

On the beach the fishermen and their wives were gathered in groups, all eagerly gazing out to sea. Some had torches, and the ruddy light threw strange shadows over the anxious weather-beaten faces. Great waves were rushing in and sweeping up the beach to where it suddenly rose. "What vessel is it?" asked Mrs. Norrie of one of a group. Maia said nothing — she knew the answer. " A steam yacht, about eight hundred tons. She's fast on the 'Ledge.'" At first Maia could distinguish nothing out at sea, but knowing in what direction to look she soon made out the breakers on the ' Ledge,' and among them a black mass, which she knew to be the yacht. The Ufeboat was putting out as they joined tbe fisher-folk, and a strange hush had fallen over the groups. Wives' hearts were wrung with anxiety for their husbands, and mothers' for their sons, as the boat mounted the first wave and for a moment disappeared from their sight.

Twice she was caught by the resistless might of the on-coming wave, and flung back on the beach — the third time she surmounted the billow, and disappeared in the trough of the next. The seconds seemed Uke hours to the watchers, who stood with straining eyes, striving to pierce the darkness and trace the Ufeboat on her way to the wreck. " She's foundered ! She's swamped ! " " No, no — there she is. Good Lord deliver her ! " "The yacht's Us ting. She'll never be in time." Mrs. Norrie wrung her hands and moaned, as exclamations were muttered in hoarse tones of intense excitement. Maia stood a little apart, her hands tightly clasped, her eyes fixed on the dark spot that marked the wreck. She neither saw nor heard anything that passed round her — -her whole soul was absorbed in the one passionate longing that the Ufeboat should be in time.

Her unconscious thoughts took the form of an agonized prayer — she scarcely breathed. A blue light from the ship showed her position clearly, but the Ufeboat was no longer visible. Even above the roar of the storm the intense silence of suspense made itself felt. " There she is — God be praised ! " " She's reached the vessel." " No, no — yes, they're throwing out ropes." " The Ufeboat must have got them by this time." The wind seemed to increase in fury. A sudden squall swept round the headland, obliging the watchers to shrink back into the shelter of the rocks, while a mighty wave, towering over their heads, rushed up the sand, and broke in a thunder of tearing sound almost at their feet. When it had passed a great cry rose from the beach. Neither wreck nor Ufeboat were visible.

Chapter II

There never was any heart truly great and generous, that was not also tender and compassionate. — Sottth's Sermons. Lockwood Godwin holding fast to a rope, a support ren dered necessary by the increasing tumult of the elements, continued to watch the coast-line, which indeed held a terrible fascination for those who viewed it from the sea. Many thoughts passed through his mind as he stood there — pictures of the past and future, and ever standing out before all, the figure of the girl on the headland. The Seagull, just returning from a cruise among the Orkneys, had dropped some of the party at their respective destinations, and was about to put into Falmouth for the convenience of a few of the others, before running across to Ireland, the home of her owner, Sir Desmond Lee, and of Lockwood Godwin.

The latter owned a small estate in the north of Ireland ; his great-grandfather having settled in that country, the family had remained there ever since. Lockwood's father having died when he was quite a chUd, his education had been left wholly in the hands of his mother, a lady who was only saved from being weak-minded by the fact that she fully realized her want of mental strength, and the disastrous effect it might have on the character of her son unless she found means of counteracting it. From that time, though the most tender-hearted of women, she maintained her outward composure in the midst of Lock wood's boyish accidents, which were not a few, as he was of rather an adventurous turn of mind. In fact, she refrained from checking him in his daring escapades, fearing to injure his courage, at times when a stronger woman would have had no hesitation in so doing.

" Your weakness will ruin Lockwood," her intimate friends IS had more than once remarked to her, and in her hours of despondency she was ready to acknowledge that they were right. She exerted herself to find friends for her son among those of her acquaintances whose character she most admired ; but, strange aud pleasant as it seemed to her, it was to her and to her alone that the boy turned for advice and guidance, and for his sake she worked and studied ; and as he drew upon her latent powers they expanded and developed, till her friends marvelled at the change wrought in the woman who during her husband's lifetime could do nothing without his assistance. The boy, being very clear-sighted, soon read his mother's character perfectly, though at first unconsciously ; but as she was entirely truthful her very weakness had a beneficial effect on bim, as he watched her daily set it aside with a sort of heroic calm.

He inherited his father's clear perception of character and strong will ; the latter lightly bound in cobweb chains of mental indolence derived from his mother, in addition to a sympathy that in her had frequently degenerated into a weak dread of hurting any one's feelings, but only made him very gentle in his manner of so doing if he considered it necessary. When, a year or two before the story opens, the dawn of manhood leaped in Lockwood's pulses, waking the spirit of adventure, crying in the words of Kingsley — " Then hey for boot and saddle, lad. And round the world away," she had taken to heart the following Une — " Young blood will have its course, lad," and calmly, to all outward appearance, let him go. He had visited many lands, and seen much, and was about to settle down, when his old friend Sir Desmond Lee persuaded him to take a trip in his yacht before so doing.