"May heaven bless both you and your good master!" said the grateful Amy: "and may both he and his ever have good cheer and warm fires, when the cold and hard weather comes on! But, James, have you seen your brother?"

At that minute, Michael opened the door: he brought with him some fine whiting on the lid of an old basket. "I have been lucky to-day, grandmother," said he; "I have caught as many fish along-sh.o.r.e as I sold in the town for seven groats. Here is the money; let it be put in the earthen pot, with the rest that is to buy you a red cloak this cold weather."

"Thank you, my dear Michael," said Amy: "how good and dutiful you both are! The time was, when I thought that the Almighty had dealt hardly in taking from the lone widow her only son,--but he has restored me that blessing in a twofold degree; and if I could but see you take to quiet farming-work like James--"

"Well," said Michael, "I will do my best to like it: though, I am afraid, I shall never get over my wish to be a sailor. But look at these fine fish! I might have sold them in town; but, I thought, as it was Christmas-tide, that you should have them for supper."

Amy now began to bestir herself to dress the supper. She soon raised a cheerful blaze; but just as she was putting on the fish, the loud report of a gun at sea made her start and drop them. It seemed so close to the cottage, that the concussion made everything rattle and ring around.

"Heaven help them!" said Amy; "it is some poor distressed ship's crew at sea, firing guns for help this stormy night. Oh, Michael! this is what you wish for! This is the life you love so much! Can you say you wish to be a sailor now?"

"I wish," answered Michael, "I had been sailor enough to go off in the pilot-boat I saw trying to put off just now as I came under the cliffs.

There's a brave ship--a king's ship, I believe,--has been in distress all the evening; and they want a pilot to go to her, for they fear she will be driven by the gale right on to the bar;--but the wind and waves run so contrary, that though they have been trying for this hour, they cannot get the boat off. Hark! there is another gun! She has certainly struck! Oh that I could help them!"

Michael now started up, and sprang to the door; but Amy ran after him, and held him back. "Oh, stay, my dear boy," she cried; "don't go off to sea! Don't let me see another child perish before these old eyes!"

"No," said Michael, turning round, "I will not disobey you; besides, I have not experience enough to be of any great use. Our brave pilots would help them, if help were possible."

"See, brother!" said James, "there lies the ship; she is beating on the Barnet-reef, sure enough; and yet the moon shines bright through the storm."

"Yes," said Michael; "and could they have got a pilot that knew the coast, they might have been saved. Look! they are putting out boats.

See! There are two!"

"Where? where?" asked James: "the white flashing billows dazzle my eyes.

I can see but one little black speck dancing among the waves."

"Oh, yes!" said Amy, "even I can see two; but they will never reach the sh.o.r.e. See, there goes down one of them!"

"No, no! I hope not," said James; "it is only hidden for a moment between the high waves."

"I tell you it is gone," said Amy. "Alas! I know that shocking sight too well?--Don't I _know_ what it is to see a boat swallowed by the sea?

Come in, boys, or I shall think I see your father again washed on sh.o.r.e at my feet."

"Go you in," said Michael; "but I will stay and see if indeed some one be thrown on sh.o.r.e; for we may give timely help."

As he spoke, he plainly discovered some one struggling with the waves at a little distance. The brothers hastened to the spot just as the man was thrown with violence on the sands by the huge breakers; they seized and dragged him out of the reach of the waves, and Amy ran out of the cottage to help them.

"Is he dead?" said she, fearfully.

"I am afraid," said Michael, "that the waves, in throwing him ash.o.r.e, have beaten the breath out of him; but he was alive just now, for I saw him struggle with the breakers."

They carried the poor man into the cottage, and tried every means in their power to revive him; but Amy had nothing better than a little elder wine to give him. This she hastened to warm; and James ran to the town to borrow or buy a little brandy, and to get medical a.s.sistance. He soon procured the liquor; but the doctor was so busy attending other sufferers who had been washed ash.o.r.e, that he could not leave them.

James thought it best to return quickly with the spirits; and he had the pleasure to see the person they had saved sitting in the chimney-corner; and after he had taken the brandy which James had brought, he seemed considerably revived.

It was not till he was out of danger that the kind cottagers remarked that the dress and appearance of their guest were far above those of a common seaman. Amy had put him on some dry clothes, which were more comfortable (though very coa.r.s.e) than his dripping garments; and on holding up the latter to dry, an elegant watch fell from one of the pockets. This she hung up before the fireplace; and soon afterwards the weary stranger retired to rest, the brothers having cheerfully given up their bed, and slept that night on a heap of old nets and sea-weed in the cow-shed.

Early in the morning, the doctor came to visit the shipwrecked stranger, and brought with him one of the sailors, who had got safe to land in the other boat. As soon as they entered the cottage, the seaman cast his eyes on the uniform that hung at the fire, and eagerly asked if the owner of it were alive. He was informed that he was alive, and likely to do well; but that he was then asleep.

"Then the storm has spared one of the bravest captains in his Majesty's fleet," said the sailor.

"What! is he a sea-captain?" asked Michael.

"Yes," answered the sailor: "our brave Captain Lucas."

A voice from the inner room now called, "Is that you, Tom?"

"Yes, your Honour," said the sailor, who immediately recognised the voice of Captain Lucas, his commander. Captain Lucas called the sailor to him, and asked, with much anxiety, how many of the ship's company were lost? "Only ten," said he; "the long-boat came safe ash.o.r.e; and several of those in the boat with you were picked up by the good town's-people. We thought all night that you were lost: it would have been a bitter loss to us, Captain; for you are, indeed, the sailor's friend. It was a dreadful sight for us to see your boat go down; but your Honour knows that we all begged you to go in the long-boat, for we said the other could not live in such a sea."

"Well, Tom," said the Captain, "mine was but a single life; most of you were fathers and husbands. I am thankful that so many have been spared; and, as for myself, I could not have fallen into better hands. Mind and get a good Christmas dinner, you and your messmates, to cheer your poor hearts; I'll be at the expense: thank G.o.d! I have enough to spare a few comforts for my brave sailors, after all their sufferings."

Tom, having made a sailor's acknowledgment, hastened to the town to tell his messmates the joyful news, that their n.o.ble captain was saved.

Captain Lucas was so much bruised, that the doctor told him he must keep in bed for a day or two, and take the medicine which he would send him; but the captain seemed averse to physic, and thought that Amy's treacle-possets did him more good. He refused to be removed from the cottage, saying that he could not find better quarters anywhere. Michael attended him with the greatest care, and his sailors came daily to see him.

Michael was delighted with the frankness and n.o.ble bearing of the Captain, and with the affection his men bore him: and Captain Lucas was as much pleased with the honest and warm-hearted Michael. "You are the brave fellow," he said to him one day, "that pulled me ash.o.r.e."

"I helped my brother James," said Michael.

"It is not always," said the Captain, "that shipwrecked men fall into such good hands; but it shall be the better for you, my lad."

Captain Lucas was not a man to keep his bed a long time for a few bruises. He was soon able to walk about; and his first care was to see the bodies of the drowned seamen decently buried. He attended their funeral, with all the surviving crew, and showed himself to be as pious as he was brave.

The night before he departed for London, he handsomely rewarded old Amy and her grandsons for their kindness to him; and as he put some broad pieces into Michael's hand, he said, "My young friend, I thought of giving you and your brother the watch and rings which I had about me when I was thrown ash.o.r.e; but I think these pieces will be more serviceable: and I give them to you as much for your uncommon honesty as the humanity you have shown to me."

"Ah, Sir!" said Michael, laying the gold on the table, "you could do me a favour, that I should prize more than your little golden clock[12] and all the Caroluses[13] in the world."

[Footnote 12: Watches were only in general use at court, in the time of Charles the Second.]

[Footnote 13: The gold coinage in the reigns of the Stuarts were commonly called Caroluses and Jacobuses.]

"Ah!" said the Captain; "and what is that, my lad?"

"To persuade my grandmother to let me go to sea with you."

"Well, my brave boy, I should be glad to have you under my command. What do you say, Amy? You hear your grandson's wish. But, remember, that I will never repay your hospitality so basely, as to take him away without your consent."

Amy sighed. "Well, your Honour, as it is Michael's desire, and as he has wished it for a long time, I wont deny him; for I see his heart is wholly set on being a sailor. I should have thought that the lives he had just seen lost would have shown him his folly; but, as it is, I would rather he should go to sea with such a n.o.ble gentleman as yourself than with any one else."

Michael rejoiced that his grandmother had at last given her consent.

"While I can have Captain Lucas for a commander, and King Charles for a master," said he, "I never will serve a Suffolk farmer."

The Captain was pleased with his spirit; but Michael's heart rather failed him, when he bade farewell, the next day, to his good grandmother and his twin-brother. "I know the Captain wont despise me for crying,"

he said to Tom; for "I saw _him_ weep when the poor sailors were buried."

"Ay! ay!" said Tom, "he has a tender heart, and he is the better for it, and so are you; and considering as how you are but a young one, I think you have borne it very well. Why I sometimes pipe a bit myself when I bid good b'ye to my Jane, and mother, and the little ones."

Captain Lucas was soon appointed to another ship; and Michael sent word to Amy and James, that he loved the life he had chosen better than ever, and that he would not change it for any other.

For a long time Michael was sadly missed at the cottage. James and Amy would look sorrowfully at one another, and shake their heads when they saw Michael's empty place at dinner, and the vacant corner where he used to put his three-legged stool by the chimney-side--and it was war-time.