''Twas he that volunteered to go before Sir Guy came, they say?'

'Yes, sir,' said the old man, with a pleased yet melancholy look. 'Ben's brave enough; but there's the difference. He'd have done it for the lark, and to dare the rest; but Sir Guy does it with thought, and because it is right. I wish it may be the steadying of Ben!'

The shower rushed over them again, shorter and less violent than the former one, but driving in most of the crowd, and only leaving on the quay the vicar, the steward, and a few of the most anxious fishermen.

They could see nothing; for the dark slanting line of rain swept over the waves, joining together the sea and thick low cloud; and the roaring of the sea and moaning of the wind were fearful. No one spoke, till at last the black edges of the s.h.a.g loomed clearer, the moon began to glance through the skirts of the cloud, and the heaving and tossing of the sea, became more discernible.

'There!--there!' shouted young Jem, the widow's son.

'The boats?'

'One!'

'Where?--where?--for heaven's sake! That's nothing!' cried Markham.

'Yes--yes! I see both,' said Jem. 'The gla.s.s! Where's Mr. Brown's gla.s.s!'

Markham was trying to fix his own, but neither hand nor eye were steady enough; he muttered,--'Hang the gla.s.s!' and paced up and down in uncontrollable anxiety. Mr. Ashford turned with him, trying to speak consolingly, and entirely liking the old man. Markham was not ungrateful, but he was almost in despair.

'It is the same over again!' said he. 'He is the age his father was, though Mr. Morville never was such as he--never--how should he? He is the last of them--the best--he would have been--he was. Would to heaven I were with him, that, if he is lost, we might all go together.'

'There, sir,' called Jem, who, being forbidden to do anything but watch, did so earnestly; 'they be as far now as opposite West Cove. Don't you see them, in that light place?'

The moon had by this time gone down, but the first great light of dawn was beginning to fall on the tall s.h.a.g, and show its fissures and dark shades, instead of leaving it one hard, unbroken ma.s.s. Now and then Jem thought he saw the boats; but never so distinctly as to convince the watchers that they had not been swamped among the huge waves that tumbled and foamed in that dangerous tract.

Mr. Ashford had borrowed Markham's telescope, and was looking towards the rock, where the shipwrecked crew had taken refuge.

'There is some one out of the boat, climbing on the rocks. Can you make him out, Jem?'

'I see--I see,' said Mr. Brown; 'there are two of them. They are climbing along the lee-side of the long ridge of rocks.'

'Ay, ay,' said old Ledbury; 'they can't get in a boat close to the flat rocks, they must take out a line. Bold fellows!'

'Where are the boats?' asked Mr. Ashford.

'I can tell that,' said Ledbury; 'they must have got under the lee of the lesser s.h.a.g. There's a ring there that Sir Guy had put in to moor his boat to. They'll be made fast there, and those two must be taking the rope along that ledge, so as for the poor fellows on the rock to have a hold of, as they creep along to where the boats are.'

'Those broken rocks!' said Mr. Ashford. 'Can there be a footing, and in such a sea?'

'Can you give a guess who they be, sir?' asked Robinson, earnestly. 'If you'd only let Jem have a look, maybe he could guess.'

Markham's gla.s.s was at his service.

'Hullo! what a sea! I see them now. That's Ben going last--I know his red cap. And the first--why, 'tis Sir Guy himself!'

'Don't be such a fool, Jem' cried Markham, angrily. 'Sir Guy knows better. Give me the gla.s.s.'

But when it was restored, Markham went on spying in silence, while Brown, keeping fast possession of his own telescope, communicated his observations.

'Ay, I see them. Where are they? He's climbing now. There's a breaker just there, will wash them off, as sure as they're alive! I don't see 'em. Yes, I do--there's Redcap! There's something stirring on the rock!'

So they watched till, after an interval, in which the boats disappeared behind the rocks, they were seen advancing over the waters again--one--yes--both, and loaded. They came fast, they were in sight of all, growing larger each moment, mounting on the crest of the huge rolling waves, then plunged in the trough so long as to seem as if they were lost, then rising--rising high as mountains. Over the roaring waters came at length the sound of voices, a cheer, pitched in a different key from the thunder of wind and wave; they almost fancied they knew the voice that led the shout. Such a cheer as rose in answer, from all the Redclyffe villagers, densely crowded on quay, and beach, and every corner of standing ground!

The sun was just up, his beams gilded the crests of the leaping waves, and the spray danced up, white and gay, round the tall rocks, whose shadow was reflected in deep green, broken by the ever-moving swell. The s.h.a.g and its attendant rocks, and the broken vessel, were bathed in the clear morning light; the sky was of a beautiful blue, with magnificent ma.s.ses of dark cloud, the edges, where touched by the sunbeams, of a pearly white; and across the bay, tracing behind them glittering streams of light, came up the two boats with their freight of rescued lives.

Martin's boat was the first to touch the landing-place.

'All saved,' he said; 'all owing to him,' pointing back to Sir Guy.

There was no time for questions; the wan, drenched sailors had to be helped on sh.o.r.e, and the boat hauled up out of the way. In the meantime, Guy, as he steered in past the quay, smiled and nodded to Mr. Ashford and Markham, and renewed the call, 'All safe!' Mr. Ashford thought that he had never seen anything brighter than his face--the eyes radiant in the morning sun, the damp hair hanging round it, and life, energy, and prompt.i.tude in every feature and movement.

The boat came in, the sailors were a.s.sisted out, partly by their rescuers, partly by the spectators. Guy stood up, and, with one foot on the seat, supported on his knee and against his arm a little boy, round whom his great-coat was wrapped.

'Here, Jem!' he shouted, to his rejected volunteer, who had been very active in bringing in the boat, 'here's something for you to do. This poor little fellow has got a broken arm. Will you ask your mother to take him in? She's the best nurse in the parish. And send up for Mr.

Gregson.'

Jem received the boy as tenderly as he was given; and, with one bound, Guy was by the side of his two friends. Mr. Ashford shook hands with heartfelt gratulation; Markham exclaimed,--

'There, Sir Guy, after the old fashion! Never was man so mad in this world! I've done talking! You'll never be content till you have got your death. As if no one could do anything without you.'

'Was it you who carried out the line on the rock?' said Mr. Ashford.

'Ben Robinson and I. I had often been there, after sea anemones and weeds, and I had a rope round me, so don't be angry, Markham.'

'I have no more to say,' answered Markham, almost surly. 'I might as well talk to a sea-gull at once. As if you had any right to throw away your life!'

'I enjoyed it too much to have anything to say for myself,' said Guy; 'besides, we must see after these poor men. There were two or three nearly drowned. Is no one gone for Mr. Gregson?'

Mr. Gregson, the doctor, was already present, and no one who had any authority could do anything but attend to the disposal of the shipwrecked crew. Mr. Ashford went one way, Markham another, Guy a third; but, between one cottage and another, Mr. Ashford learnt some particulars. The crew had been found on a flat rock and the fishermen had at first thought all their perils in vain, for it was impossible to bring the boats up, on account of the rocks, which ran out in a long reef. Sir Guy, who knew the place, steered to the sheltered spot where he had been used to make fast his own little boat, and undertook to make his way from thence to the rock where the crew had taken refuge, carrying a rope to serve as a kind of hand-rail, when fastened from one rock to the other. Ben insisted on sharing his peril, and they had crept along the slippery, broken reefs, lashed by the surge, for such a distance, that the fishermen shuddered as they spoke of the danger of being torn off by the force of the waves, and dashed against the rocks.

Nothing else could have saved the crew. They had hardly accomplished the pa.s.sage through the rising tide, even with the aid of the rope and the guidance of Sir Guy and Ben, and, before the boats had gone half a mile on their return, the surge was tumbling furiously over the stones where they had been found.

The sailors were safely disposed of, in bed, or by the fireside, the fishers vying in services to them. Mr. Ashford went to the cottage of Charity Ledbury, Jem's mother, to inquire for the boy with the broken arm. As he entered the empty kitchen, the opposite door of the stairs was opened, and Guy appeared, stepping softly, and speaking low.

'Poor little fellow!' he said; 'he is just going to sleep. He bore it famously!'

'The setting his arm?'

'Yes. He was quite sensible, and very patient, and that old Charity Ledbury is a capital old woman. She and Jem are delighted to have him, and will nurse him excellently. How are all the others? Has that poor man come to his senses?'

'Yes. I saw him safe in bed at old Robinson's. The captain is at the Browns'.'

'I wonder what time of day it is?'

'Past eight. Ah! there is the bell beginning. I was thinking of going to tell Master Ray we are not too much excited to remember church-going this morning; but I am glad he has found it out only ten minutes too late. I must make haste. Good-bye!'

'May not I come, too, or am I too strange a figure?' said Guy, looking at his dress, thrown on in haste, and saturated with sea-water.

'May you?' said Mr. Ashford, smiling. 'Is it wise, with all your wet things?'

'I am not given to colds,' answered Guy, and they walked on quickly for some minutes; after which he said, in a low voice and hurried manner,--'would you make some mention of it in the Thanksgiving?'