Carlyon's year

Front matter

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"TIME TRIES ALL THINGS."

A *' We may therefore regard it a rare tribute to the merits of ROWLANDS' MACASSAR Oil that it has stood the test of eighty years' continued demand, and still remains in the opinion of competent judges, the best known promo'ter and restorer of the human hair."— Le Follet, March, 1881.

Chapter I. On The Sands

" That will do, Stephen, thank you. You may let us out here. A charming scene, is it not, Richard ? "

The speaker was a young lady of nineteen ; looking, however, not older, but far wiser than her years. A thoughtful face by nature, and, besides, one upon which some sorrow and much care for others had set their marks. The hazel eyes, large and tender, were confident, without being bold. The forehead, from which the heavy folds of bright brown hair were not drawn back, but overflowed it from under her summer hat at their own wild will, was broad and low. The form tall and slender, but shapely ; the voice singularly clear and sweet, and whose tones were such as seemed to give assurance of the truth they utter. She was certainly speaking truth now when she said, " A charming scene."

The persons she addressed were seated with her in a cart, in the middle of one of those bays upon our north-western coast, from which the sea retires, with every tide, for many •miles, and leaves it a level waste of sand, save for two riverchannels, besides several smaller streams, fordable in places,

2 CARLYOATS YEAR.

but always running swiftly. Some islands, oases in this desert, dotted here and there at no great distance, yet farther than they seemed, showed grandly with their walls of rock and crowns of foliage. The shores of the bay itself, miles away at the nearest point, were of a beauty singularly varied, considering their extent. To southward a range of round, green hills sloped down to a white fringe of coast, on which a tolerably large town could be distinctly viewed, with, behind it, a castle on a hill, which marked the site of a much larger town. Upon the spurs of these hills were almost everywhere to be seen a cluster of grey dwellings, and from the valleys thin blue smoke ; the district, although somewhat un-come-at-able, was so fair that many came to dwell there, especially in the summer ; but yet it was not densely peopled. Eastward, these signs of habitation were more rare, and the hills began to rise in grandeur, till, in the north-east, they culminated to mountains, a knot of which towered in the extreme distance at the head of the bay. Small coves and inlets indented the northern shore, which was, moreover, thickly wooded ; a white village or two, from one of which the cart had just arrived, glimmered through the trees ; and to the west a far-stretching promontory, with one beetling cliff, concluded the fair scene, — that is, so far as the land reached. Upon the south was the sea, separated from them by no bar or bound of any sort, and roaring in the distance, as though for prey. It was this which formed the most striking feature in the picture, and indeed, to a stranger to the position, — as was one of the three individuals we are concerned with, — it was almost terrible.

" Well, Agnes," observed Richard Crawford to his cousin, to whom he looked junior by at least twelve months, but was really her senior by that much ; " this is truly grand. I could never have imagined what a spectacle ' Over Sands ' afforded, if I had not thus seen it with my own eyes. It is certainly the very place for a sketch. Now, jump, and I will catch you."

The young man had leapt lightly from the back of the cart upon the brown, firm sand, and now held out both his arms, that his cousin might alight in safety.

" Thank you, Richard, I am used to help myself out of this sort of difficulty," replied she, smiling ; " am I not, Stephen ? "

"Yes, miss," returned the driver, respectfully, but in broad north-country accents ; " this is not the first time you have been in my cart, nor yet the second. She's as active as any deer in his lordship's park out yonder, that I'll answer for, Mr. Richard. Lor bless you ! you don't know Miss Agnes ; but then, how should you — you that has been in foreign parts so long ! "

Richard Crawford had, it was true enough, been for many years in a far distant climate, and one which had turned his handsome features to the hue of those of a bronze statue : but he grew a more dusky red than even the eastern suns had made him, when his cousin, touching one of his extended arms with her finger-tips only, lightly leapt upon the sand. She took no notice of his evident annoyance, but exclaimed, gaily, "Now, Stephen, the chair and the camp-stool ; then go your ways, and good-luck to your craam. I dare say Mr. Richard here does not know what a ' craam ' is ; so great is the ignorance that prevails in the tropics. See here, cousin." She drew out from the cart a sort of

B 2 i CARLYOWS YEAR.

three-pronged, bent fork, used by cockle-gatherers for getting the little bivalve out of the sand, beneath the surface of which it lies about an inch. " There ! that is the true Neptune's trident. No barren sceptre, but one upon whose magic movement, thus " — she deftly thrust it into the sand, where two small eyelet-holes announced the presence of the fish, and whipped one out — " meat, and drink, and clothing are evoked for many a poor soul in these parts. Why, you need not go far afield, Stephen, since there seem to be cockles here."

" Nay, miss, there's nobbut but one or two here about," returned the man. " The skeer* lies far away out yonder. You'll not be afraid to bide here till I come back and fetch you ? "'

" Certainly not, Stephen. How many hours shall we have to spare, think you ? "

" Well, with this light south wind stirring, perhaps not four, miss. But I shall pick you up long before that — just as usual, you know. A deal of company you will have upon Sands this afternoon, I reckon," added the man, as he drove off to the cockle-ground ; "you have brought Mr. Richard out on quite a gala day."

The scene upon the wave-deserted bay was indeed growing quite animated ; for, in addition to many carts, such as that in which they had come, the owners whereof were all setting to work with their craams, two long strings of horsemen and wheeled conveyances were beginning to cross from either side of the bay, making almost to the place where the two were standing, sketch-books in hand ; each band, both

* The local name for the large beds in which the cockles are found from the east and west, were conducted by a guide over the first eau or river, after which their course lay plain enough across certain broad, but shallow streams, to the second, near the opposite shore, where the other guide was posted.

" I have seen nothing like this since I crossed the desert," ejaculated the young man, with admiration. " I can almost fancy that those horses are camels, and the trees on yonder island palms, only there are no thieves of Bedouins."

" But in Egypt there is no sea, Richard, like that which seems to hunger yonder for men's lives. Is it not strange to think that all this space now used as a safe road by man and beast will, in an hour or two hence, be landless sea ? that not one of those black rocks that stand out so prominently yonder will lift its head above the waves ? Folks talk of there being ' no sea to speak of ' in these parts, but if they mean that the ocean has here no elements of grandeur and terror they are much mistaken. Its very retreat and advance so many miles are something wondrous; and when I see the crowds of people crossing thus during its short absence, I always think of the Israelites passing through the Red Sea upon dry land. Nay," added she, as if to herself, and with reverence, "it is only God's arm that keeps the waves from swallowing us up to-day."

"Yes, of course," returned Richard, drily; " yet the tides obey fixed laws, I suppose, and can be calculated upon to Avithin a few minutes ; otherwise I should say these good folks, including ourselves, are somewhat foolhardy."

" I have known the tide come in here more than two hours earlier than usual," observed the young girl, gravely. " There was a ship wrecked in yonder bay in consequence ;

the men having gone ashore and left her, high and dry, and feeling confident of returning in time. A strong south wind will always bring the sea up quickly."

" There's a south wind to-day, Agnes," laughed her cousin. " I think you must be making experiments upon my courage."

" Nay," returned she, " the breeze is very light. Besides, the guides and the cocklers all know very well what they are about. It is very seldom any one is lost, and when they are, it is through their own folly, poor folks."

" They get drunk a good deal in these parts, don't they ?" said the young man, carelessly, as he sat down on the camp-stool and began to sharpen a pencil ; " and being half-seas-over before they start, why, it's no wonder if the tide "

" Hush, Richard, do not jest with death," said the girl, reprovingly. " Men and women have sins to answer for here as in other places ; but I have ever found them an honest and kindly race."

" Well, I only hope in addition to kindliness and honesty your friend Stephen reckons sobriety among his virtues. What ! He is a little fond of tippling, is he? Phew !" here the young man indulged in a long low whistle, and his black eyes beamed with sly laughter.

" Stephen is weak," replied Agnes Crawford, gravely ; " though not so bad, even in his weakness, as some say."

" There, I see it all," cried the young man, clapping his hands so sharply that the half-dozen gulls that strutted on the sands a little way off rose heavily, and wheeled in the blue air, ere alighting at a greater distance ; " I see it all quite plainly. My cousin Agnes, who is so good herself that she can believe evil of nobody, employs this Stephen because no one else will employ him ; she trusts him because everybody says that he is not trustworthy."

" I believe he would risk his life to save mine," rejoined Agnes, simply.

" Of course he would, my dear cousin ; for without you he is probably well aware that he could not gain a living. Don't be angry now ! I am only delighted to find you are so unchanged ; the same credulous, tender-hearted creature that I left when I was almost a boy, who never allowed herself the luxury of going into a tantrum, unless one of her dumb favourites was ill-treated. Now let me tell you a secret — that is, something which is a secret to you, although it is known to everybody else who knows you. My dear Agnes, you are an angel."

" Don't you rumple my wings, then," replied the young girl, coolly, as Mr. Richard Crawford concluded his eulogistic remarks by patting her on the shoulder. " See ! yonder is a drove of cattle about to cross the eau. Are they not picturesque ? Now, if you were an animal painter instead of being, like myself, only able to draw immovable objects — to shoot at sitting birds, as it were — we might by our joint efforts make a very pretty picture of this scene."

" You make a very charming picture alone, I do assure you," said her cousin, admiringly.

The remark evoked no reply, nor even a touch of colour on the young girl's cheek. Her brow just clouded for a moment, that was all.

" We have secured an excellent position for our sketches," said she, after a pause, and each took their seat.

" Do people ever cross the sands on foot ? " inquired

8 CARLYOWS YEAR.

Richard, presently, in a constrained voice. He had parted with his somewhat free-and-easy manner, and manifestly felt that he had been going too fast or far with his compliments.

" Very rarely," returned she. " There are always some places tolerably deep, as yonder, where, as you see, the water is above the axle-trees of the coach. The poorer sort of cocklers, however, sometimes come out without a cart. Once no less than eight people were lost in that way, and on a perfectly windless day. It happened before we came to live here, but I heard the story from the guide's own lips. A sudden fog came on, and they were all drowned ; and yet it was so calm that when the bodies were found at the next tide the men's hats were still upon their heads. A little girl, he said, with her hands folded across her bosom, lay dead beside her dead father, just as though she slept."

" Even if they had had carts, then, the poor folks could not have been saved," observed Richard.

"Yes, it was thought they might," returned the young girl, sadly. "The guide has a trumpet which carries his words, or at all events the sound of them, to a great distance. It was supposed they were making for the right direction when the waters overtook them, but being encumbered with women and children, and on foot, the party could not hurry on."

" What a repertory of dreadful stories your friend the guide must have, Agnes."

" Yes, indeed," answered she, gravely. " There's one churchyard I know of in our neighbourhood in which have been buried no less than one hundred persons, victims to these treacherous sands."

" And the quicksands themselves are the graves of many, I suppose?"

" No, never ; or, at least, almost never. They are quicksands in the sense of instability; but they do not suck objects of any considerable size out of sight, or at all events they take some time to do so. The bodies of drowned persons are almost always found."

"Upon my word, Agnes, you make my blood creep. Talking to this guide of yours must be like a business interview with an undertaker."

" Nay, Richard," rejoined the girl, solemnly, " such stories are not all sad. Death has been sometimes met, as it were, with open arms by those who knew it was eternal life. And, besides there are narratives of hairbreadth escapes from peril sometimes, too, which instance the noblest courage and self-sacrifice. I wish, however, that there was no such road as ' Over Sands.' "

"Nay, then we should never have been herewith our sketch-books," returned the young man, gaily. " See ! I have put in the three islands already."

"So I perceive, Richard; and the largest of them in the wrong place. Where are you to sketch in yonder village?"

" Oh ! bother the village. The picture is supposed to be executed when the country was not so overbuilt. What are those little trees sticking up above the river ? Everything here seems so anomalous that I ought not to be surprised ; but nothing grows there, surely."

" They are only branches of furze called ' brogs,' which are set up by the guides to mark the fords. It is their business to try the bed of the stream ever tide, — for what was io CARLYON'S YEAR.

fordable yesterday may be quicksands to-day, — before folks begin to cross. There goes the coach."

i! Yes, and how the passengers do stare," returned Richard ; " nor, indeed, is it to be wondered at, if it is their first experience of this road. I think some of them will be glad when they find themselves on terra firma. Perhaps you might have seen me arrive rather pale in the face, Agnes, if I had come home this way, instead of by sea, to Whitehaven."

" No, Richard ; to do you justice, I think you are afraid of nothing."

'•' I am afraid of one thing, and that is of you, cousin, or, rather, of your displeasure," said the young man, sinking his voice, and speaking very tenderly.

•' If you are, you would not talk such nonsense," rejoined his cousin, quietly.

" Dear Agnes, don't be cruel — don't ; nor affect to take for jest what I mean with all my heart and soul. Thousands of miles away on the wild waves the very likeness of your face has comforted me, which you gave me when we parted, boy and girl, so many years ago. Think, then, what happiness it is to me to gaze upon that face itself, a child's indeed no longer, but with all the innocence and purity of the child beaming from it still. You used to tell me that you loved me then, Agnes."

"And so I tell you now, Richard," returned the girl, changing colour for the first time, as she bent over her drawing, and forced her trembling fingers to do their work. " I love you now, very much indeed, dear cousin."

" Cousin," repeated the young man, slowly, "yes ; but I don't mean that, as you well know, Agnes. I only wish

ON THE SANDS. ii

you could have seen me in my little dingy cabin, reading your letters by one wretched candle stuck in a ginger-beer bottle — don't laugh, Agnes ; I am sure you would not have laughed if you really could have seen it. I quarrelled with the only one of my companions whom I liked, and knocked him backwards down the companion-ladder because he put his stupid foot upon the desk you gave me. You are laughing again, Agnes. True, I was only a poor lad in the merchant service, and poverty is always ridiculous ; but I would have shown my love for you in other ways had it been possible. Heaven knows I thought of little else than you ! "

" Look here, cousin Richard," said Agnes, rising quickly from her seat, and speaking with some severity. " I will not hear this talk; you are well aware what my father thinks of it."

" I cannot help my uncle's not liking me," said the young man, somewhat sullenly.

" Nor can I, Richard, or you know I should make him esteem you as I do myself. But you are under his roof now ; he is your host as well as your uncle — and my father. That is reason good — independent of other very valid ones upon which I do not wish to enter — why you should not address such words to me. I think you should have seen they were distasteful, Richard, without obliging me to tell you so."

The young man did not utter a reply : he only bowed, not stiffly, however, and held his hand up once and let it fall again with a certain pathetic dignity that seemed to touch his companion's heart, and indeed did so. Her large eyes swam with tears.

" Forgive me, Richard, I am sorry to have pained you," said she, in soft low tones, inexpressibly tender : " very sorry."

" I am sure you are, cousin." That was all he said ; his handsome, clear-cut features appeared to have grown thinner within the last few minutes, as she watched his side face bent down over his sketch-book. They were both silent for a long time, during which they plied their pencils. Draughtsmen know how quickly the hours pass in this way without notice. Presently Richard lifted his eyes from his work and looked around him. " Agnes," said he, " why does not Stephen fetch us ? "

She looked up too, then started to her feet with agitation. " My God ! " cried she, " the carts have all gone home."

" Don't be frightened, dearest," said the young man, confidently. " There are two carts still, and Stephen's is one of them. My eyes are good, and I can recognize it plainly, although it is a great way off. He is running the thing very near ; that is all."

" Alas ! he has forgotten us altogether, Richard. Both those carts are making for the other side; he could not now cross over to us even if he would. Do you not see how the sea has stretched its arm between us and him ? "

Richard Crawford uttered a tremendous imprecation.

" Do not curse him, Richard. They have given him drink, and he knows not what he is doing : or perhaps he concludes that we have gone home by other means, as indeed we might have done. Poor fellow, he will be sorry to-morrow. Curse me, rather, my poor cousin ; for it is I who have murdered you in having brought you hither."

" No, no ! " ejaculated the young man vehemently.

" Do not think of that. I swear I would rather die with you like this, than live without you. But is there no hope ? Hark ! what is that ? "

" It is the guide's trumpet ; they see our danger from the land, although they cannot help us."

" Let us hasten, then, in God's name ! " exclaimed the young man bitterly ; " and if He has ordained it so, let us die as near home as we can."

Chapter II. By The Waters Of Death

There was no necessity for the words " let us hasten." Both had left chairs and sketch-books, and were running as swiftly as they could towards the western shore ; but the sand, lately so hard and firm, was now growing soft and unstable — the flowing tide already making itself felt beneath it ; their progress therefore was not rapid.

" The thought that I have brought you hither, Richard, is more bitter to me than will be these waters of death," said Agnes, earnestly. " You can run where I can scarcely walk ; leave me, then, I pray you, and save yourself. Remember, you cannot save me by delaying, but will only perish also. Why should the sea have two victims instead of one?"

" If the next step would take me to dry land," answered the young man, vehemently, " and you were deep in a quicksand, lifting your hand in last farewell — like the poor soul you told me of yesterday — I would gladly think that you beckoned to me, and would turn back and join you in your living grave."

She reached her hand out with a loving smile, and he took it in his own, and hand in hand they hastened over the perilous way. Richard, because he knew his cousin and how little likely she was to be alarmed, far less to despair, unless upon sufficient grounds, was aware of their

BY THE WATERS OF DEATH. 15

extreme danger ; otherwise, a stranger to the place would at present have seen no immediate cause for fear. The sea was yet a great way off, save for a few inlets and patches which began to make themselves apparent as if by magic ; moreover, the shore to which they were hastening had become so near that they could plainly perceive the knot of people gathered round the guide, and hear the words, " Quick, quick," which he never ceased to utter through his trumpet, with the utmost distinctness. It seemed impossible that two persons should be doomed to perish within sight and hearing of so many fellow-creatures, all eager for their safety. And yet both were doomed. Between them and the land lay the larger of the two rivers that emptied themselves into the bay at high water, and ran into the open sea at low. The current was setting in by this time very swiftly, and the swirling turbid waters were broadening and deepening every minute. The banks of this stream, instead of being firm sand, were now a mass of white and slippery mud, a considerable extent of which lay between the eau and the shore ; so that it was impossible to carry or even push down a boat upon its treacherous surface to the river's edge. The bank upon which the two unfortunates were standing was not as yet so much dissolved as the other, but they could feel it growing more and more unstable beneath their feet, as they now stood on the brink of the eau, not fifty yards from their would-be rescuers. The scene was only less terrible to these than to the doomed pair themselves. Women could be seen among the crowd wringing their hands in agony, and strong men turning their heads away for the pity of so heartrending a spectacle. Once, either moved by the entreaties of others, or unable to restrain his own feverish desire to be doing something, a horseman spurred his steed upon the ooze, as though he would have crossed the river to their aid; but the poor animal, well accustomed to the sands, and conscious of danger, at first refused to move, and when compelled, at once began to sink, so that it was with difficulty that either man or horse reached land again.

"Swim, swim !" cried the guide, through his trumpet.

" Yes, swim," echoed Agnes. " How selfish it was of me to forget that. It is very difficult, but to a good swimmer like yourself it is not utterly hopeless. Let the tide carry you up yonder, as far as the island, Richard, then strike out for that spit of land ; there is firm footing there. Take your coat off, and your shoes ; quick, quick ! "

The young man looked mechanically in the direction indicated, then smiled sadly, and shook his head.

" We are not going to be parted, Agnes ; we are to be together for ever and ever. You believe that I love you now ? " added he with grave tenderness.

She did not hear him. Her eyes were fixed on a highwooded hill, close by the promontory I have mentioned, with the roof of a house showing above the trees. This was her home.

" Poor papa, poor papa ! " murmured she ; " what will he do now, all alone ? " The tears stood in her eyes for the first time since she had been made aware of their danger. Both had now to step back a little, for the bank was crumbling in; the increasing stream gnawed it away in great hunches, which fell into the current, making it yet more turbid than before. There was still a considerable tract of sand, firm to the eye, although in reality quite

BY THE WATERS OF DEATH. 17

unstable, lying between them and the sea ; but the latter had now altered its plan of attack. It no longer made its inroads here and there, running slily up into creeks and coves of sand, and holding possession of them until reinforcements came up, but was advancing boldly in one long low line, with just a fringe of foam above it like the sputter of musketry. In addition to the threatening growl noticeable so long, could also now be heard a faint and far-off roar.

" It will soon be over now, Richard," said the young girl, squeezing the hand that still held her own ; " that sound is our death knell."

"What is it, Agnes?"

" It is the tidal wave they call the Bore. It may be half an hour away still ; it may be but a few minutes. But when it comes it will overwhelm us."

She raised her eyes to the blue sky, which was smiling upon this scene of despair and death, after Nature's cruel fashion, and her lips, which had not lost their colour, moved in silent prayer. Suddenly a great shout from the shore, echoed by another from Richard, drew her thoughts again to earth.

' The crowd of people on the shore were parting to admit the passage of a man and horse, both so large that the guide and the animal he bestrode seemed by comparison to become a boy and pony.

"What are they shouting for, Agnes?" asked the young man, eagerly.

" Because," said she, " yonder is the man who can save us yet, if man can do it."

She spoke with calmness, but there was a flush upon her cheek, and a light in her eye, which the other did not fail to mark.

" Who is it ?" asked he, half angrily. For if men can be angry on their death-beds, how much more when, though in view of death, they are still hale and strong.

" It is John Carlyon, of Woodlees," said she.

Chapter III. The Roan And His Rider

It might well have surprised and shocked a stranger to have seen that cluster of village folks watching for so long the approaching doom of two of their fellow-creatures, without making — with the exception of the attempt we have mentioned — a single effort to save them. Their inaction, however, really arose from their thorough knowledge of the fruitlessness of such efforts. It was not the first time, nor the second, nor the fiftieth, that the sea had thus marked out for itself prey in that same bay hours before it actually seized it, quite as certain of its victims as though its waves were already rolling over them. Hundreds of years ago it was the same, when the guides were paid with Peter's pence by the old priors of Mellor, and were prayed for during their perilous passage together with those entrusted to their guidance by the monks on Lily Isle, the ruins of whose oratory could yet be seen. As Ave and Kyrie had failed to save those who had delayed too long upon that treacherous waste, so good wishes availed not now. And they were all which could be given in the way of aid. It was very doubtful whether Richard Crawford could have saved himself by swimming even at the moment when it had been suggested to him. The strength of the tide of the eaic was very great ; " the furious river struggled hard and tossed its tawny mane ;" and firm footing there was none on either