Fishing in Deep Waters

Chapter I

Sir Charles Colville looked upon his little steam yacht with the affection of a parent. Whether it lay tranquilly at anchor near the shore, or was dancing through the wave, turning hither and thither in obedience to the will of the man at the helm, it was ever gazed upon by him with pride and satisfaction. His house and estate, with all the good things appertaining to them, occupied but a second place in his heart, though the value of the one compared with the other was as a piece of cork to its size in refined gold. The family mansion, Sternhold House, an old castellated building, occupied the western side of a valley on the sea coast in the south of England. There it had stood for ages amidst vol. n. storm and tempest, bravely erect, in opposition to the ravages of time, on which modern improve ment had not put its destructive hand.

The valley extended some miles in a northerly direction up to a range of hills, from which issued a spring of clear sparkling water, which made its way unchecked through the valley to the sea a few hundred yards on the eastern side of Stern hold House. About a mile farther distant a spot had been fixed upon for the erection of a building for the use of the coast-guard service, in which were located some twenty men under the charge of Captain Colville, whose duty it was to protect the coast from smugglers and render such assistance to passing vessels as they might from storm or accident require. The coast-line on the east side of the station was very irregular and rocky for about half a mile, and then bent inland upon a pebbly beach, forming a little bay, at the head of which stood the rising watering-place of Broadhurst.

From the north we pass to the south. On the morning of the wreck, of which a slight account has already been given, Sir Charles Colville stood on a raised terrace on the side of the house facing seaward, looking at his yacht, which lay at anchor near the shore with the steam up, ready for a short trip along the coast. Miss Colville was by her brother's aide, with a servant behind her with an armful of wraps ; her eyes, however, did not follow in the direction of her brother's, but were fixed inquiringly upon a dark ridge of clouds that was beginning to show itself in the south-west. ' Well, Maggie, are you quite ready ?' asked Sir Charles. ' Quite,' replied the lady, ' but a little curious to know the meaning of the darkness over there.' ' Only a passing cloud/ said Sir Charles — 'nothing to be afraid of ' Perhaps not for you, Charles/ observed his sister ; ' but what does the barometer say to it ?' she added, as she re-entered the house.

In a brief space she was back again, saying, ' The glass is falling rapidly, and I will not venture out with you to day.' ' Then if my good cousin does not come,' he rejoined, ' I suppose I must go alone. What a pity it is/ he added, laughing, ' that my sister should be such a coward.' ' Go and look at the glass yourself she replied, ' and then you will see that I am acting rather from prudence than cowardice. Sir Charles did not reply, but went quietly to the glass, and then, returning to the door, looked out at the rising clouds. 20—2 ' Well,' said his sister, ' which of the two words are to be mine, yes or no ?' ' The glass is falling and the clouds are rising, and but here comes the captain, and we will have his opinion.' ' Shall Ave have a storm ?' said Captain Col ville, anticipating the question as he shook hands with the brother and sister. ' Yes ; I think we shall, and in a very short time, too.

If you go aboard now, I think you will want them badly enough before you get back again,' he added, pointing to the wraps in the servant's hands. ' There !' said Miss Colville. ' What do you say to the coward now ?' ' That she is very much pleased to have her cowardice approved of said Sir Charles, laughing. ' Come, captain/ he added, ' you will go — there is nothing to fear V ' Nothing to fear, of course not,' he replied, ' but at the same time, it strikes me there is nothing to be hoped for but a good wetting.' 'And you do not care to get that ?' said Sir Charles. 'No, not without a reasonable object in view,' replied the captain. ' " When duty calls," as the song says, it is different.' ' Then I must go alone,' said Sir Charles. ' If you are wise, I think you will do well,' AVATERS. said the captain, ' to signal your men to get into a safe berth as soon as they can, as they do not appear to be quite satisfied with their present position.' The order was given, and the yacht glided quietly into shelter, behind a little breakwater, Avhich nature, assisted by art, had formed at the mouth of the stream, where it then entered the sea.

The servant disappeared with the wraps, while Sir Charles, with his sister and the captain, stood in the doorway watching the approaching storm. 'If the wind suddenly increases, as I suspect it will,' observed the captain, ' some of our friends out in the distance will be sufferers if they do not quickly shorten sail.' Of this fact the commanders of the vessels to which he pointed seemed fully aware, as, ere he had finished speaking, the disappearance of the sails showed plainly what they were about. There was but little time for further argument of the character and violence of the storm. A vivid flash of lightning across the sea from the south-west announced its approach, and in a few minutes the sky was overspread with dark clouds, while the lightning flashed from side to side, and the quivering air was filled with a continual roar.

The captain took a hurried glance towards the abode of his men. He saw them busy with the life-boat, as if they thought there would soon arise occasion for its use. With a hearty good bye to Sir Charles and his sister, he dashed out into the storm and pressed through it towards his men. The wetting which he had just appeared so careful to avoid had no terror for him now. He felt that his duty called him to the station, and that thunder and lightning were not worth a moment's thought. Ere he could reach his men, the wind had risen to a perfect hurricane, whipping up the sea into a white foam, and dashing it headlong on the shore with a roar that seemed at times to rival the noise of the thunder. The sinews of the captain were strained to their utmost as he struggled on, till at length, breathless and almost spent, he reached the shelter of the boat-house.

He found his men intently watching a vessel about a mile from the shore which appeared to be becoming quite unmanageable. ' Nothing will save her from going on the rocks,' began an old sailor, when a vivid flash of lightning appeared to seize upon the struggling ship and shiver its masts into a thousand pieces. ' Let go your anchors or you are lost,' cried the captain. The sound of his voice died as a whisper long ere it reached the point to which it was directed, but the men in the ship did not need the in struction. No sooner were the masts struck than the anchors were down and grappling with the earth. For a few seconds they did their appointed Avork and checkmated the force of wind and waves, but the struggle was soon over and the storm prevailed. ' She is at the mercy of the waves,' said the captain. ' Yes, she is dragging her anchors,' replied Mr. Lonsdale, his lieutenant. ' Are your men all ready with the life-boat ?' asked the captain. ' Yes, quite ready,' was the reply. ' Good God !' cried the captain, as he saw Sir Charles Colville in his yacht struggling through the sea towards the disabled ship. ' Is the man mad ?

What can he hope or expect to do in such a storm with that little toy of a boat ? He wdll go to the bottom with his darling, if you are not quickly by his side to save him. To the rescue !' he said to Lonsdale ; ' there is not a moment to lose. Save Sir Charles and his crew, and take off the poor fellows from the ship if you can. I wish he had been in bed rather than taking his yacht out into such a sea.' It was not without some difficulty and great skill that the life-boat was forced through the breakers, and by the time she was in the open sea, the brave little yacht, with Sir Charles Colville at she helm, had approached to within a few yards of the disabled ship ; but the waves were running too high for an attempt to be made to take off the crew, who were clinging to anything they could seize upon on deck, to save themselves from being wrashed overboard.

It would be difficult to show where at that moment the most intense excitement prevailed, whether it was in the crew of the yacht, who were waiting for an opportunity to save tbe men of the doomed ship, while the violence of the waves threatened at every moment to en gulph them in the depth of the sea, or the poor helpless fellows who felt that they were being irresistibly urged forward to be dashed to pieces on the rocks, or with the men who were buffet ing the sea in the life-boat to take them from their perilous position, or their companions, w7ho were eagerly watching them from the shore. ' Bravely done, bravely done !' cried the captain, as he saw his men place the life-boat fairly between the yacht and the disabled ship, where it appeared to have the best chance of being usefully employed.

Sir Charles Colville, seeing that he dared not approach nearer to the disabled vessel, and that the life-boat was close at hand, and knowing as he did every sheltered spot on the coast, steamed away into comparative still water at a little distance, there to await any favourable opportunity that might present itself for him to be of service in saving life, when the wind and waves had done their worst. Again and again an attempt was made to aid the crew in the ship by the brave fellows in the lifeboat, but OAving to the violence of the waves and the inability of the men to secure the rope that was thrown to them, all proved in vain. When close upon rocks they made a last desperate attempt to get a line aboard the wreck, but in doing so, Lonsdale, the officer in command, was hurled violently against the side of the boat, and before a hand could be stretched out to save him, jerked over into the boiling surf.

His life belt kept him afloat, although he was rendered senseless by the blow, in which state he waa pulled back again into the boat. While this was taking place, a huge wave sent the wreck with crushing force upon the rocks, where, in a few minutes, it became a broken, splintered mass of struggling timber. The captain, with his men, who had watched the catastrophe from the shore, hastened to the rocks upon which the vessel had struck, but out of the whole number of men who had been on that ill-fated ship only one was saved. The life-boat returned with the wounded officer to the boat-house, while Sir Charles Colville steamed about as near to the rocks as he dare venture, in hope of saving some poor struggling wretch w7ho might still be supporting himself in the water. The storm-clouds passed away as suddenly as they had appeared, and the waves became consequently much less violent than they had been, and rendered the search more easy, but it was all in vain, and the brave fellows were obliged to give up the task as hopeless.

As they were returning to the land ing place, and when within a few hundred yards of it, they passed what at first sight appeared to be a dead sheep attached to a piece of timber floating on the water. Sir Charles was the first to notice it, and being a little curious to see what it was, brought the yacht close along by its side, and called out to his men to get it on board, when great was the surprise of all to see, in the midst of an old sheepskin coat, the face of a child. On taking off its rough covering they found the body of the child still a little warm, but it gave no other sign of life than an occa sional moan. Sir Charles instantly gave up the helm to one of his men, and devoted himself to the recovery of the child. Pulling off its wet clothes, he wrapped it up in a warm rug, and, as soon as the yacht could be got to land, sprang ashore and made for home as fast as possible, calling, as he did so, for one of the men to follow him with the mat and clothes and anything else that had been found with the child.

Meeting one of his servants by the way, he ordered him to go directly for his medical attendant ; then, for want of a large fire in any other part of the house, he passed on by the w7ondering servants to the kitchen, calling out as he went for some large warm blankets. In a short time Miss Colville was by her brother's side, and using every means for the restoration of the child that the occasion seemed to warrant. As she was thus employed the doctor entered the kitchen, and having approved of what had been done, took the case entirely into his own hands, at the same time requesting that a large fire might be made in a spare room upstairs. Sir Charles, feeling that the child was in safe hands, retired to his room to change his dress, leaving his sister in the hall, to hear from the sailor who had brought up the rug and clothes the particulars of the destruction of the vessel on the rocks and of the accident to the officer in the life-boat.

When Captain Colville, who stood above the rocks on which the vessel struck, saw that she was a complete wreck, and that there was no further chance of saving life, having directed some of his men to remain on the spot and take charge of any part ofthe cargo that might come ashore, he returned to the station. The one poor fellow tbat was saved was so much ex hausted that he was unable to walk without assistance, but as that was readily rendered to him by tw70 of the men, he managed, though apparently more dead than alive, to reach the station, where he w7as immediately placed in bed in a room that had been warmed and prepared for the occasion when the vessel was seen to be drifting towards the rocks. The warm restora tives that were freely administered to him for a time did not produce the desired effect.

He continued very restless — it might be from the remembrance of the fearful scene through which he had just passed, or it might have been in part from other causes, of which the men around him knew nothing. At length, however, ex hausted in body and mind, he fell asleep. With Lieutenant Lonsdale the case was very different. When the captain reached the station he found him insensible, and immediately sent off a messenger for the doctor. He did what he could to soothe the poor fellow, but from the first moment he looked upon him he felt assured that he had been mortally injured, and on the arrival of the doctor his fears were but too sadly confirmed. He then learnt that the poor fellow s AVATERS. 13 skull was fractured, and that he could not live out the day. The captain wiped the moisture from his eyes, and his men were not less affected at the thought of the desolate state in which his little girl Lucy would be left.

They felt that she would be now indeed an orphan. Some twelve months since her mother had died in a consumption, and left her in her ninth year in her sailor home under the sole charge of her disconsolate father. The station consisted of two oblong buildings. Between these blocks stood the officer's house, which had for some years been occupied by the now dying man. Since his wife's death a young person had been engaged to superintend the management of his house, and take charge of the education of his daughter. The love of Lucy for her father was as un bounded as the outspreading heavens ; and night nor day during the past twelve months, never had he left her without having felt her arms clino-ing about his neck, and the warm kiss, or rather kisses, imprinted on his lips. She was ever the first to meet him on his return from any act of duty, and to welcome him back.

S.id and tearful were the eyes of the little one now, as she saw the men approaching the house, bearing between them in silence the unconscious form of her beloved father. ' Father ! dear father !' she cried, as she met him at the door ; ' are you very ill ? Will you not turn and speak to me ?' ' Take her away,' said one of the men, to an old servant who stood by the door, ' he cannot speak to her.' ' No, no,' said Lucy, 'I cannot go away ; if he cannot speak to me I can speak to him, poor dear.' The man did not stop to argue, but passed on, and bore the Avounded man to his bed, and left him in charge of the housekeeper and his weep ing child, who thought not of her own disconsolate condition, but of the means that could be used to soothe the pain of the beloved sufferer.

Chapter II

As Sir Charles Colville finished his toilette, the last storm-cloud passed away, and the sun, freed from its dark canopy, burst forth in what appeared, compared with the late gloom, un wonted splendour. ' I trust I did not too hastily give up the chance of saving life when I left the wreck/ murmured Sir Charles, as he looked out upon the smiling landscape and the fast tranquillising sea. ' The steam is still up, I see, and though any further attempt may be useless, it will be satisfactory to know that we have left nothing in doubt. Go,' he said to the man who was in attendance upon him, 'and tell the captain of the yacht to be ready to leave the breakwater at a moment's notice.' Then, having spoken a few words to his sister, and learnt from the doctor that hopes for the child's recovery might now be safely indulged in, he followed his messenger to the yacht, and once more took his station at the helm.

AVATERS. By this time the violence of the waves had, with the wind, almost entirely died away; still, there was a heavy swell upon the water that rendered the searching about in the shallows amidst the rocks anything but a safe proceeding, and therefore, to save the captain from any un necessary responsibility, he kept the command of the desired movements entirely in his own hands. The tide had just begun to ebb, when the vessel struck, so that by the time Sir Charles was again passing by the spot he could see many of the broken ribs of the ship jammed together amidst the rocks, but nothing of the remains of any human being. Seeing that the men from the station were keeping a good look-out along the shore, and that a well-manned boat was moving searchingly around and over the scene of the late catastrophe, Sir Charles felt there was nothing left for him to do, and therefore, after steaming about for an hour, he steered for the breakwater and then returned home.

That day the dinner party at Sternhold House consisted of Sir Charles Colville, his sister, the doctor, Mrs. Wilton, a lady residing at Broad hurst, her brother, the Rev. James Pearce, who had just left a curacy in the north to undertake nearly the whole duty at Woodford, a village about a couple of miles north of Broadhurst, FI3HINJ IN DEEP AVATERS. Avhere the vicar was an infirm old man, and equal to nothing more than the preaching a sermon once a week. The conversation while the dinner was pro gressing turned chiefly upon the late storm, and the mischief it had done along the coast.

Sir Charles Colville, in speaking of his finding the child, told the company that on his untying the cord which kept the sheepskin about the child, he was surprised to find within, not only the little fellow now safe and warm in bed, but also a small, white, stuffed dog, which appeared to have been used as a plaything. ' You will preserve the precious relic,' observed Mrs. Wilton, ' as a memento of your success in saving the child ?' ' I have not thought of doing so,' returned Sir Charles, ' but I suppose there is yet time, as it is not destroyed.' ' I do hope it is not,' rejoined Mrs. Wilton, ' as I should like to see it very much.' Sir Charles whispered something to one of the servants, who instantly left the room, and then, turning to Mrs. Wilton, he said : ' If it is presentable we will have it before us in the drawing-room in the course of the evening.' 'How far the dog may have escaped injury/ observed the doctor, ' remains to be seen, but that VOL. II. the child has had a very narrow escape from death, there can be no doubt.' ' You think he will recover ?' said Mr. Pearce, interrogatively. ' I have good reason to hope he will/ replied the doctor. ' I am very glad to know the child is likely to do well/ said Miss Colville ; ' but I still think it was a very rash act on the part of my brother to go out in his yacht in such a storm.' ' Was he not unexpectedly caught in it / asked the doctor. ' Oh dear no,' replied Miss Colville. ' We had just decided not to go out, when the storm com menced ; when my brother, like a rash man — as 1 maintain he is — on seeing a vessel struck with lightning, and in distress, jumped from my side without a word, and before I had Avell recovered from my surprise I saw the yacht leave the breakwater, and no less a person at the helm than himself, when it was not fit for the com monest sailor to leave the shore.' ' And would you have me,' asked Sir Charles, playfully, ' send my beautiful Nancy to sea with a common sailor at the helm at such a time V ' I am afraid,' rejoined Miss Colville, • that your beautiful Nancy and you will find your way some day to the bottom of the sea.' ' My dear Miss Colville,' urged Mrs. Wilton, 'you must not indulge in such frightful sup positions.

It is really too dreadful to think of for a moment.' ' Do not alarm yourself said Sir Charles ; ' I am not quite so rash as my sister would lead you to suppose I am.' ' Mrs. Wilton does not know you so well as I do/ retorted Miss Colville. ' Why, if I had not firmly resisted, you would have had me out in the storm with you.' ' And brought you back again safely, I trust,' said Sir Charles. ' Although I am very fond of the sea,' observed Mr. Pearce, ' I do not think I should have liked to venture upon it in such a storm as we have had to-day.' ' Nor should 1/ said Sir Charles, ' had it been for mere amusement ; but when I saw the peril in which the crew of that ill-fated ship was placed, I did not stop to think of how the storm would deal with me. It was my misfortune to be of very little use.' ' The life you have saved may prove a very valuable one,' observed the doctor. 'Poor little fellow !' said Sir Charles ; ' we have yet to learn who or what he is.' ' He will never be able to tell you himself said the doctor ; ' but as I hear there was one man saved, we may learp from him.' 21—2 AVATERS. ' Captain Colville has promised to be Avith us in the drawing-room this evening,' observed Sh Charles, ' when we may hear some further particulars from him.' In due time the ladies rose from the table, and were shortly afterwards followed by the gentlemen to the drawing-room, Avhere they found that Captain Colville and his father, the general, had been just announced.

Miss Colville, anxious to carry her point about her brother's rashness, made an immediate attack upon the captain on his entrance, almost before the first w7ords of greeting had passed from his lips, by saying : 'Do you not think, captain, it was very rash in my brother to go out in the storm as he did this afternoon V ' I Avas a little surprised to see him away from the shore,' replied the captain, evasively. ' I know what that means,' rejoined the lady, in a triumphant tone. ' But here he is ; let him now answer for himself 'No, no,' cried General Colville; 'a brave man will never boast of his own brave actions.' ' I am speaking of a rash act, general,' rejoined the lady. 'What! still upon the attack, sister?' said Sir Charles, with a merry laugh. ' Why, one would almost think you are sorry I did not go to the bottom, to prove the correctness of your judgment.' ' Oh, brother !' cried Miss Colville ; ' is that a fair way of treating my argument ?' ' We have been speaking, captain,' observed Sir Charles, ' of the poor fellow your men saved from the Avreck.

Do you know if he is suffi ciently recovered to give any account of his unfortunate voyage?' ' I do not,' replied the captain. ' I should have gone to see him had I not learnt from the doctor that he was in a very excitable state, and had for the present better be left unquestioned.' 'Does the doctor think his life is in danger ?' asked Sir Charles. ' No, I think not,' was the reply. ' Is the child supposed to be connected with the man ?' asked Mr. Pearce. ' At present,' replied the captain, ' I believe no one has been able to form an opinion on the subject.' ' Have you made out the name of tbe A7essel ? asked Sir Charles. ' No,' replied the captain, ' as unfortunately the part where the name should have been has totally disappeared, and the boats were smashed up almost into a pulp. From the colour of the water left in the pools amidst the rocks, and the pieces of coal lying about.

I should imagine she FsSHING IN DEEP WATERS. came from one of the northern coal-ports. But at present,' he continued, ' I feel much more con cerned about poor Lonsdale than any inquiry about the lost ship. Poor fellow ! the doctor tells me he cannot last through the night. It is well for him that he is unconscious. Were it not so, the anguish of his mind must far outweigh that of his body, when he thought of the unpro tected state in which he would leave his little girl.' ' This is all new to me,' said Mr. Pearce. ' Pray, may I ask of whom you are speaking ?' ' Of our lieutenant,' replied the captain. ' I thought you had all heard of the accident in the life-boat ;' seeing tbat they had not, he gave them a brief account of it. ' And do you think he has made no provision for the child ?' asked Mr. Pearce. 'I am afraid not,' replied the captain. 'He had a sick wife to support for several years, and I believe he has since suffered through having invested his property in a bubble company, and lost it all.

Certainly there wdll be for a time a slight pension from Government, on account of her father's service.' ' We must try and get the girl into an orphan age,' said Mrs. Wilton. ' How old is the child V asked Sir Charles. ' In her tenth year,' replied the captain. AA7ATERS. 23 ' She must not go to the poorhouse,' remarked the general. 'My mother will, I expect, be with us to morrow,' said Sir Charles, ' and then we can talk to her about it — she is well up in all matters relating to orphanages, and the like — unless,' he said, turning to his sister, 'you will at once take the matter in hand.' 'But I am only a visitor here, you know,' replied Miss Colville.' ' She is an interesting child,' observed the captain. ' Take her into training, my dear,' said the general. ' She will present a fine opportunity for you to put in practice some glowing theories I have heard you descant upon.' ' Call her my adopted child,' said Miss Colville, playfully ; ' but then,' she added, ' what shall we do with my brother's little boy ?