CHAPTER XLVI. A BRIEF LIFE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2194, 31 July 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XLVI. A BRIEF LIFE.

' And what do you think Hu^h wants us. to do, Mi&s Williams 1"' said Miss Manners, as soon as tho Vicar had got on hi.s .slippers and tasted his grog, while his daughter stood warming her&elf by tho fire. 'Indeed I have no idea,' answored Amy. ' Well, it seems he has bought a boat in tho village of some old fisherman ' •Of old Richardson,' put in the Vioar, dryly. 'Of old Richardson, or some other old man,' went on Adelaide carelessly,, • its of no matter ; but he has bought a boat, and has had it painted, and new sails put to it, and cushions, and has made it very' smart — quite fit for ladies, he says ; and he wants us — you and mo — to go out in it for a trial to-morrow.' ' If Miss Williams takes my advico, she'U dc nothiog of tho kind,' said the Vicar; 'it's too late for boating — the middle of October. Preposterous ! Just like Hugh.' 'Well, papa, I mean to go,' said Adelaide. ' Well, my dear, go and got drowned, if you like. That, no doubt, would be very interesting with Hugh. But something less interesting is Bure to happen. You'll get wet, and cross, and have a rqd nose, and Hugh will not think the better of you.' • You are always saying something? disagreeable, I think, answered Adelaide, angrily ; and she took up her bedroom candle and went to bed. 1 Don't you be persuaded to go,' said the Vicar to Amy who was preparing to follow. ' It's too late for boating this ye?r— for ladies especially. You are safer at home.' The next morning, however, proved fine, and Adelaide was determined to go. Sir Hugh came for them — as ho had fixed with his cousin tho night before— about two o'clock, and was disappointed, and rather annoyed, at Amy's refusal to accompany them. ' You will do nothing for mo, I think,' he said pettishly. ' Come, Adelaide., you are the olucky girl, aud not afraid of a wet jacket.' And Adelaide smiled as he praised her, and followed him with a light fctep to tho shore. The cousins came back to dinner, and had enjoyed their expedition. 'She's a capital t>ei-boat,' cried Sir Hugh with enthusiasm ; and there was a faint tinure of colour on his pale face as he related their adventures in her, which had not boon there for many a d-iy. ' We will go to-morrow again,' he said, and Adelaide agreed. ' It was too short to-day,' she replied, 'we wore out but one hour. Hugh said we must be in bofore dusk, as I wai there. You need not be afraid to trust me with him, papa, he is very careful.' 'And so you won't go,' said Sir Hujrh to Amy, as he bid her good-night. Ho had quite recovered hi.s temper, aud when .she laughed and shook her head at his imitition, he called her a 'little coward,' and bid Adelaide be sure to be ready to go with him not later than ten o'clock. But when she rose the next morning and looked out, eveu she was dubious ; it was a grey, dull loweiinu; day, with a strong north-east wind blowing, aud an occasional .shower drifting against the p'ino.s. Vot she came down to breakfast in hor yachting-dress, and declared every minute tint it looked brighter, and was certain by-and-byo that the sky would giow clear. Tho Vicar, however, was loud in his di* ipprobiition. and at last positively forbid her to think of iroinir — ' t-n r en if Huirh wore so mad,' ho said ; and high words passed between father and daughter on the subject. But all this wa.s set at rest about, eleven, by a biiof note fiom Sir Huuh. ' Doar Addy,' he wrote, ' it's, too rough weather fur you this morning to ventiae. I aud the two Johnsons, who are good .sailors, arc going out for a couple of hours, to try tho mettle of the Pejrgy (that's the charming name the old craft hius borno this many a year), and I will look up in tho ovi ning, and wo can fix then another day for you to go. — ' Yours affectionately, 'H.M. Tho day did not improve, and towards the afternoon Adelaide began to congratulate herself that s,he had not gone, for u regular storm of sleet .md rain set in ; while the wind increased almost to a huriioane, and beat tho heavy .showers against the Vicarage windows with extraordinary violence. •A fine day for boating, I must say,' said the Vicar, with a shiver, as he listen nd ; but Hugh will bo high and dry by this time ; consoling himself for his wetting, no doubt, with his favourite , eau-de-vie.' About four o'clock, however, they were undeceived on this point, for old .fames, the manservant, rapped at the diningroom door and requested to speak 'to the master.' 'What is it?— what is it?' said the Vicar, peevishly, for he was dozing in the easy -chair by the fire. ' What the deuce do you want ?' 1 Why, Bir ' began the old man, and then he hesitated and. looked at the two young ladies, who were both busy at the table with .some bead-work which Adelaide wanted to finish as a present for Lady Lilbourne. ' Why, sir — I've been to the village ' • What the devil have I to do with that r' said the Vicar, raising his head. ' See what ho want«, Amy, my dear creature ; it will be some message or other about a funeral ;' and Amy rose at his bidding and went to the door. 'They've queer news up there,' said James, addressing her, lowering his voice as he did so, and pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. 'At the village?' said Amy. 'What is it V 'They say the Pejrgv, the boat Sir Hugh bought of auld Richardson, the t'other day, hah come iuto the bay keel uppermost,' answered the old man, with a kind of pride as it were in his tone at tho awful nature of his new.s. The boat !' said Amy, breathlessly. ' Sir Hujrh's boat !— and Sir Hugh, and the men 'r' • Have gono to their account, na doubt, 1 replied James, with an unmoved face ; ' aud the auld master will be ' 'My God !' cried Adelaide Manners, rising from her seat by the table, and comiug with white face and trembling feet towards the door. ' What doos ho say ? — what about Hugh ?' and as she spoke sho unconsciously grasped Amy's arm. 'It may be a false repot t,' said Amy. 'It must be ; the two Johnsons were with linn, and they arc both good sailors. Do not bo afiaid, Miss Manners. Do not tremble so— sit down. Oh ! sir,' she continued, addie,s.siug tho Vicar, 'do you hear— James .say* the Peggy, Sir Hugh's boat, has oomu ashore aud — no f , the men.' ' "Sly C!od! you don't mean it !' said the Vicir, btaitin^r up, now fairly roihscd. You oM fool it can't bo tiue. J Are you sure now? Isn't, this just .some of the confounded irossip and lies ye got up here amongst ye Y 'It may be .sa, master,' said the old Noithumbrian sulkily. 'I've just tolled ye what 1 was tolled mcssel ; and I met <i vast lofco' the fisher tolk ganging down to the sands to bee. It \vas James Bruuton,

they say, saw the boat floating on the bar, and put out and towed hot in ; but maybe, as ye say, it's a lee. I shouldn't wonder it it was.' 'Let us go and sse, sir,' said Amy, speaking to the Vicar ; let us go at once and see for ourselves.' • Very well,' he answered, • it's a confounded day— but still ' They were soon ready ; but when Amy came running hastily down stairs with her hat in her hand, Adelaide was there before her. Oh ! Miss Manners — you had better not go— you had better not go— you had better stay till we come back, 'said Amy. •Do you think I could wait? she answered, and Amy looked at her face and said no more, and together they went out into the storm. Not, however, till they were beyond the shelter of the little avenue did they feel the full violence of the gale. Then, as the driving sleet and rain bqat full upon them, the Vicar, who, waa a little ahead of the two girls, looked round and offered an arm to each. •It is moat likely a lie,' he said, ' but it was foolhardy, absolutely foolhardy, of Hugh to venture out on a day like this.' • He was ever brave,' said Adelaide, in a low voice of pain, and then sho shivered, and clung more heavily to her father's arm. As soon as they had crossed the links and could see the bay, all doubts as to an accident having occurred were over. There! was a crowd of fishermen standing on the shore ; some gesticulating violently.'othera endeavouring to haul down one of the large fishing boats which lay up on the banks for safety, but most of them gathered round one spot upon the sands, and among this group a woman with a r^cl shaw 1 wrapped round her head was very conspicuous. 1 You's the boat,' said the Vicar, pointing to them and biting his under lip, and speaking in a voice ot some emotion ; for he even felt a kind of awe at the solemn scene. ' What is, my lads ?' he cried, as they drew near the men. • What have you there !' ' It's the Peggy, y'r honour,' answered j a rough, old lisherman, looking rouud ; 'auld Richardson's boat — she's corned ashore without her crew.' 'Oh ! Mr Manners,' cried the only woman among them, coming 1 mining forwaul, and whom they now ri'coguised as " Pretty Peggy,' the beautiful fisher girl ; 'Is that you, sir? Oh! sir, bid them launch a boat ; or send for a lifeboat to Boomar .' Oh ! sir, do some-thing — only do something to save them ;' and the poor creature wrung her hands in her misery, and looked at the Vicar with a face wild with tciror and despair. ' Na boat can live among you breakers, lass,' said the old fisherman in <* low voice. lls it your father's boat, Peggy ?' said the Vicar, kindly. ' They may be all safe. They may have swam ashore after she capsized.' ITo be sure, sir— to be sure,' cried the unfortunate girl, ' only they don't seem to belies e it. Hugh could swim ; you know Hugh could swim, don't you, sir?' she continued, eagerly ; aud then, as the Vicar hesitated for an answer, she turned passionately away ; falling down upon the. sands, and calling aloud in her agony foi God to spaio him — only to spare him. ' It was a pitiable sight, but the proud Adelaide drew aside, even 111 hor pain, and whispered to Amy, 4ls that the woman? How dare she — how dare she speak like that.' 'Hush, for God's sake, 'answered Amy 1 she is beside herself with grief and pain.' Aud going up to Peg«zy she laid her hand gently on her shoulders. 'Stand up, Pecrgy,' she said and lean on ins. ' Stand up, my po6r, poor girl, aud do not be afiaid.' ' Ay, but v'ru one of thorn proud ones,' said the gul bitteily, starting to her feet. ' One of them for w hose sake he wad'na do justice to me, and me unborn bairn. I know >c well,' she continued, wildly flinging up her arms into the air. 'Ye and yon pioud lass, that would tread mo into the dust —me — me — that.' And then she stopped ; wringing her hands, and moaning liko a person in moital pain. ' I never despised you, at least,' said Amy, gently. ' Hush, Peggy, hush — you may be sorry after, if he comes back.' Thtse words seemed to have some influence on her, for she set her teeth together, breathing hard as if to restrain her emotions, and fixing her wild eyes on the stormy white-crested sea. But even standing thus, with her features almost convulsed with agony, and with tho rain beating on her face and dark brown hair, her unhappy rival, Adelaide Manners, was forced to admit, to herself, her almost perfect beauty. ' No wonder he loved her,' she thought, bitterly; 'no wonder a coarse man like Hugh Manners went mad after that beautitul face.' And she turned away her head and shuddered, as if the sight were too hateful to endure. Meanwhile tho Vicar and the rest of the men had not been idle. The strongest fishing boat on the banks had been hauled down to sea, aud a sturdy lot of volunteers to man her, the moment she could live among the breakers, were gathered together by her side, and a man on horseback had also been despatched, to where the nearest lifeboat was stationed, and lifebuoys and ropes lay ready in case of need upon the shore. About five o'clock the wind subsided, and the long, rolling waved broke less heavily on the bar. ' We could try her now, I'm thinking,' said ouo of the young fishermen who had offered to man the boat ; and all looked 'anxiously towards the stormy sk>, flocked here and there with white seagulls winging their way for shelter to the land ; and after a few moments' consultation it was determined to try and launch the boat. By this time the crowd had greatly increased and many a pale aud anxious woman had been -idded to it. Suddenly a cry arose among them — a cry repeated from lip to lip. 'There's one of them !—! — there's one of of them !' was echoed round ? and Amy, who was standing by Pejrgy "Richardson's side, heaid it, and looked with a. kind of shmldeiiug' horror towards the sea. For a moment sho could sc" nothing but the gioat, crested waves. Then, distinct and awful amid their foam, a man's dark head rose and foil, swept backwards anil forwards, as they reached or advanced, and with loud ciics the crowd rushed onward at tho sight. 'It's Hugh— it'.s Hugh,' shrieked Peggy, ' come back tome — come back !' And .she would at once havo sprung into the water, but was forcibly held by some men, screaming and struggling like a mad woman ; while tho young fisherman who had pioposcd to launch the boat coolly pulled off his jacket and after binding one of the ropes around him plunged boldly iuto the sea. Twice thoy saw him miss what ho was Ntruggliug for ; twice he was driven back almost to their feet : but tho thiid time, with a (le-poiato eil'oit, he gra&pod the duk object iv tho water, aud, with a shout of joy tlio>e. who held the lopo drew him and his buiden the next minute Kifeh to the shnro. Then a do/eu men spring foi ward to relievo him; thon a do/'n voieo^, c t llod out the name name Thou with a ciys' which rose shall and high above tho .storm, Peggy Richardson broke in among them, and 101 l down bv tho side ol what ho had rescued— fall down by tho budy of a youu» man, aud

lifted his head tenderly on her breastkissing pas.sionately the whito, still face — tho whito, still face of Sir Hugh Manners. ' Is he alive ?' said Adelaide, in a low, hard voice, and her face looked almost grey as she spoke. ' It's impossible,' answered the Vicar, sharply, anil ho pushed his way among those who stood round the two figures on tho sand — pushed his way, and then stooped down and took hold of Sir Hugh's cold, wot hand. He held it for a moment, and then diopped it heavily. ' It's no use, Peggy,' he said, addressing tho unfortunate jurl. But she never heeded him. Sho was trying to pour some brandy between Sir Hugh's lips, which somo compassionate beholder had handed to her— r waa trying to wriii^ the water from his hair — was holding him close to her breast ; bidding thoso around her 'run fast, very fast, for Dv Ruthyen, for he would bring him rouud — bring him round, if he would but come.' No one cared to undeceivo her, and when tho doctor was seen approaching the men open a way for him, and Peggy gave a kind of laugh of joy. ' George Hutchinson saved him, air, sho said. ' Was it not bravo ? What shall I do? Must I keep his head still on my neckl"' ' No, Peggy, lay it on tho sand,' answered the doctor geutly, and ho knelt down by Sir Hugh's side and lifted his hand and felt for the pulse, and laid his head on hi.s heart, and looked at him long and steadfastly. Then with a sigh, and a significant shake of the head to those around, he rose, to his feet and laid his hand kindly on Peggy's shoulder. ' Stand up, my lass,' he said, it's no use. Sir Hugh has gono to his account, and God forgive him the wrong that be has done you.' ' ' What !' shrieked Pegpry, starting to | her feet. 'What— what, doctor !' 'He is dead,' answered DrUuthyen, solemnly. 4 No, no, no,' cried the unfortunate girl. 'Don't say it, doctor — don't say it. He is not dead — he is not dead ! Look, his lips moved there; I'm certain they moved. Oh ! try something — try homething for the love of God!' And she once more fell down by tho dead man's hide. ' It's 110 use said the doctor again; 'but to please her,' he added, and commenced trying the usual means of restoration, while the men crowded round him and one of them, stooped down ;md touched Sir Hugh's body iis it lay on the sand. 'Stand back,' said Pegsy, fiercely ; 'stand bnck. every one of ye ! What have yo to do with him — ho is none of yours.' ' Nor thine, either,' answeied the man rouirhly. 'He's got his due.' ' It's no use, Peggy,' again said tho doctor, ' not a bit, my poor gitl. He's been dead these two hours.' 'No, no,' said Peggy, with n kind of wail, lifting his head once, more on her bosom <md wrapping it in her shawl ;md swaying herself baekwaids and forw.-mls. ' No, h^ cannot, cannot be. Look at me, Hujrh — look at me — but once— once more. Look at me, my da? ling, my husband— look at me who has loved thee so well.' But the still white f.ico gave no sijrn, and tit last even she who looked it on her broa«r, wen *>ho who called it by very pndoaiing names — called it her husband, her darling — <ny th it life was fled, 'md that he would never look at her in love or anger more. Then hor arms dropped by her sides, and her face grjivliko his and with a a moan sho sank down beside him, like a dead thing upon tho sind. ' Lift her up, my lads,' said tho doctor, wiping away a tear with his rough hand. ' Lift her up and carry her home, sho is best away ; and God forgive him the ill that he has donr ' So the inon lifted hor up and carried ' Pretty Poguv,' wifh hor broken heart away along the darkening shore.