The Leader of the Lower School: A Tale of School Life

  CHAPTER II

  The "Queen of the Waves"

  INTO the fourteen years of her life Gipsy had certainly managed tocompress a greater variety of experiences than falls to the share ofmost girls of her age. She had been a traveller from her earliestbabyhood, and was familiar with three continents. Her father was amining engineer, and in the course of his profession was obliged tovisit many out-of-the-way spots in various corners of the globe. AsGipsy was all he had left to remind him of her dead mother, he nevercould bear to be parted from her for long, and he would generallycontrive to put her to school at some place within tolerably easy reachof the vicinity of his mining operations. In the holidays he wouldsometimes take her up to camp, and Gipsy had spent long delightful weeksin the hills, or the bush, sleeping under canvas, or in a log cabin or acovered wagon, and living the life of the birds and the rabbits asregards untrammelled freedom.

  She had grown up a thorough little Colonial, self-dependent andresourceful, able to catch her own horse and saddle it, to ridebarebacked on occasion, and to be prepared for the hundred and oneaccidents and emergencies of bush life. She had taken a hand at campcookery, helped to head cattle, understood the making of "billy" tea,and could find her own way where a town-bred girl would have beenhopelessly lost. The roving life had fostered her naturally enterprisingdisposition; she loved change and variety and adventure, and in fact wasas thorough-hearted a young gipsy as any black-eyed Romany who sellsbrooms in the wake of a caravan. At her various schools she had ofcourse learnt to submit to some kind of discipline, but her classmateswere Colonials, accustomed to far more freedom, than is accorded toEnglish girls, and the rules were not nearly so strict as in similarestablishments at home.

  After a year spent in South Africa, Mr. Latimer was prepared to returnto America, and, wishing to do some business in London _en route_, hadbooked passages for himself and Gipsy on the _Queen of the Waves_, asteamer bound from Durban to Southampton. Gipsy was an excellent sailor,and thoroughly enjoyed life at sea. She would cajole the captain toallow her to walk upon the bridge, or peep inside the wheelhouse; orpersuade the second mate to take her to inspect the engines, or teachher flag-signalling on the upper deck: and wheedled marvellous andimpossible stories of sharks and storms from the steward. The voyage hadpassed quickly, and until the headlands of the north coast of Spain weresighted had been quite uneventful.

  "Only a few days more, and we shall be in port," said Mr. Latimer,looking through his pocket telescope at the outline of Cape Finisterre."I think we may congratulate ourselves on the splendid weather we've hadthe whole time."

  "We mustn't boast too soon," returned Captain Smith. "There are someugly clouds gathering, and I shouldn't be surprised if we had a roughnight of it in the Bay. What would you say, Gipsy, if we had the fiddleson the table at dinner?"

  "Those queer racks to keep the plates from slipping about? Oh, I'd loveto see them on! I've never been in a big storm. The wind may just blow,and blow, and blow to-night. The old sailor who sits on the top of theNorth Pole can untie all the four knots in his handkerchief if helikes."

  "Don't wish for too much. One knot will be quite sufficient for us ifwe're to get across the Bay in comfort. You'll tell a different tale byto-morrow morning, I expect."

  As the captain had prophesied, the dark clouds gathered quickly, andbrought both a squall and a shower. The vessel was entering the Bay ofBiscay, and that famous stretch of water was already beginning tojustify its bad reputation. Gipsy had the satisfaction, not only ofseeing the racks used at dinner, but of witnessing half the contents ofher plate whirled across the table by a sudden lurch of the ship. Therolling was so violent that she could not cross the cabin withoutholding tightly to solid objects of furniture.

  "I'm afraid we're going to have a terrible tossing," said Mr. Latimer,as he bade Gipsy good night. "Mind you don't get pitched out of yourbunk. We're having bad weather with a vengeance now."

  "The old sailor on the North Pole has untied all four knots," said Gipsyto herself, as she lay awake listening to the blowing of the gale. Itwas indeed a fearful storm. The vessel was tossed about like a cork: onemoment her bows would be plumped deep in the water, and her stern liftedin mid-air, with the whirling screw making a deafening noise overhead;then all would be reversed, and the timbers seemed to shiver with theeffort the ship made to right herself.

  Gipsy found it impossible to sleep when her heels were continually beingraised higher than her head, and sometimes a sudden roll would threatento fling her even over the high wooden side of her berth. Everything inthe cabin had fallen to the floor, and her boots, clothes, hairbrush,books, and indeed all her possessions were chasing one another backwardsand forwards with each lurch of the vessel. The noise was terrific: thehowling of the wind and the roaring of the waves were augmented by thecreaking of timbers, the clanking of chains, and an occasional crashingsound that appeared to come from below, where the cargo had brokenloose, and was being knocked about in the hold.

  For an instant there seemed to be a lull; then, as if the storm had beenwaiting to gather fresh fury, a tremendous sea swept down upon the ship,dashing across the decks with a roar like thunder. Gipsy hid her face inher pillow. It would pass, she supposed, as the other waves had passed,and they would steam on as before. Then all at once she sat up in herberth. The great throb, like a pulsing heart to the vessel, that hadnever ceased day or night since they left Durban was suddenly still. Theengines had stopped working. A moment afterwards her father burst intothe cabin.

  "Gipsy, child!" he exclaimed. "We must go on deck! Here, fling this coatround you! No, no! You can't wait to dress! We've sprung a bad leak, andthe captain says we must take to the boats. Hold tight to my arm, and bea brave girl!"

  It was with the utmost difficulty that the pair made their way up thelurching stairs on to the deck. Here the wind was furious, and wouldhave blown them overboard had they not clung to the railings forsupport. In the fitful gleams of moonlight Gipsy could see toweringwaves rise like great mountains, and fall against the ship. The sailorswere already lowering the boats, and she could hear the sound of thecaptain's speaking-trumpet as he shouted his orders above the noise ofthe storm. Were they indeed to trust themselves to the mercy of thatterrible sea? Gipsy watched with alarm as the first frail-looking boatwas successfully launched on the seething water.

  "Have I time to fetch my papers?" asked Mr. Latimer, as the captain camein their direction.

  "No; only to save yourself and your child," was the hasty reply. "Comeat once; the vessel is filling fast, and may settle even before we canget off her."

  When Gipsy afterwards recalled the various events of that night, shedecided that the most dreadful moment of all was when, with a lifebeltfastened round her waist, she was lowered over the ship's side. Boththe vessel and the lifeboat were so pitched about by the enormous wavesthat it was a perilous passage; for a few seconds she swung in mid-air,with only blinding foam and spray around her. Then there was a shout,she was grasped by strong hands from below, and drawn down into a placeof comparative security. In another minute her father had followed her,and was seated by her side. The captain waited till all the boats werelaunched and he had seen the last of his crew off in safety, and he hadscarcely left the deck himself and taken his place in the lifeboatbefore the doomed vessel heeled over, and with no further sign orwarning disappeared into the depths.

  All night long, through the cold and darkness, the little party wastossed upon the surface of the swirling waters; but towards dawn thestorm abated, and when day broke, the sea, though still running fast,was sufficiently calm to enable the sailors to make some use of theiroars. They put up a signal of distress, and waited anxiously, hopingthat some passing vessel might notice them, and stop to pick them up.Hour after hour went by. Cold, hungry, and drenched to the skin, Gipsytried to be brave, and to bear patiently what she knew must be enduredequally by all. The sun rose high, and shone down warmly upon them, butthere was still no sign of either land or a ship. It was long pa
st noonwhen one of the crew, with a jubilant shout, pointed eagerly to a tinyblack streak of smoke on the horizon, which they knew must issue fromthe funnel of some distant steamer. With frantic energy they wavedjackets and handkerchiefs, to try to attract the attention of those onboard. Would they be seen, or would the ship pursue her course withoutnoticing the small speck far away on the water? There was a minute ofhorrible uncertainty, then: "They've sighted us!" yelled the captain."They're turning her about and putting her back!"

  "Thank God we're saved!" exclaimed Mr. Latimer.

  The rest seemed like a dream to Gipsy. She could remember afterwardsthat she was helped by two sailors up the companion way of a tall liner,and that she saw a long row of excited passengers staring at her overthe railings; then all became a blur, and when she came to herself shewas lying on a couch in a strange cabin, with her father and a doctorbending over her.

  "She only fainted from exhaustion," she could hear the doctor saying."We'll soon have her all right again. Ah, here comes the beef tea! A fewhours of sound sleep will make all the difference. When she wakes,you'll find she's almost herself again."

  Five days later found Gipsy seated at breakfast with her father in thecoffee-room of a Liverpool hotel, none the worse for her adventures. Theliner that had picked up all the survivors of the ill-fated _Queen ofthe Waves_ had been on her way to Liverpool, and Mr. Latimer decided tomake a brief stay there, to secure new clothes for himself and Gipsy,and to gain time to make fresh plans for the future. Though he hadfortunately been able to bring a certain sum of money away with him, alltheir other possessions had gone down with the wrecked vessel, and itwas this loss which he and Gipsy were discussing as they drank theirmorning tea.

  "It was distinctly awkward to be left with nothing in the world but anightdress that I could call my own!" laughed Gipsy. "Wasn't it funny onthe _Alexia_? People were ever so kind in lending me things, but theydidn't fit. Mrs. Hales' skirt swept the deck, and Mrs. Campbell's jacketwas miles too big for me. I must have looked an elegant object when wereached the landing stage! I don't wonder you bundled me into a cab in ahurry, and drove straight off to an hotel. Yes, it's decidedlyunpleasant to lose one's clothes."

  "If it were only clothes we'd lost, Gipsy, I shouldn't mind, but it's afar more serious affair than that. All my valuable papers are gone,child! You don't realize yet what that means. It makes such an enormousdifference to my affairs that for the next few years it may entirelyalter the course of my life."

  "What do you mean, Dad?" asked Gipsy quickly, for her father's tone wasgrave.

  "What I say. The loss of those papers will necessitate a complete changeof all my plans. Instead of our going on to America, I shall be obligedto return to South Africa at once."

  "More voyaging! All right, Dad; I'm game for another wreck, if you are!It'll seem rather funny to go back to where we've just come from, won'tit?"

  Mr. Latimer was silent for a moment or two.

  "Gipsy!" he said at last, "I've got to break the news to you somehow.I've decided not to take you back with me to the Cape. I want to goup-country, into some rather wild places, places where you couldn'tpossibly come to camp. You'd be far best at school here in England."

  "Dad! Dad! You're never going to leave me behind!"

  "Now be sensible, Gipsy! Remember all I've lost. Your passage would be aquite unnecessary expense; schools are better, too, over here, and you'dhave more advantages in the way of education than in South Africa. Itcan't be helped, and we must both try to make the best of it. I'll notbe gone long, I promise you that. Then I'll come back to England againand fetch you. For goodness' sake don't make a scene!"

  Gipsy blinked hard, and with a supreme effort contrived to masterherself. Her knockabout life had taught her self-control and soundcommon sense in many respects, and she was old enough to appreciate theexpediency of the altered plans.

  "What school am I to go to?" she asked rather chokily.

  "I spoke to Captain Smith about it, and he recommended one at a placecalled Greyfield. He said his niece used to be there once, and liked it.I'm going to take you to-day. We must get the 11.40 train."

  "So soon! Oh, Dad! couldn't we have just one more day together?"

  "Impossible, Gipsy! I want to catch the mail steamer for Cape Townto-morrow. This wreck has been a great disaster to us. Butthere!--things might have been worse, and I suppose I shall manage topull my affairs round in course of time. It's no good crying over spiltmilk, is it? When one's castle comes crashing down about one's ears,there's nothing to be done but to set one's teeth firmly, and try tobuild it up again."

  "If only I could help you, Dad! Couldn't I help the least little atom ofa scrap out there?" pleaded Gipsy wistfully.

  "You'll help me best by stopping here in England, and making yourself ashappy as you can."

  "All right! I'll try to be a Stoic! Only--we've never been six thousandmiles apart before, and--well, it will seem queer to be left all alonein a country where I simply don't know one single soul."

  It was owing to the course of events just narrated that Mr. Latimer,obliged to choose a school in a hurry, had, on Captain Smith'srecommendation, selected Briarcroft Hall, and, taking Gipsy toGreyfield, had arranged to leave her in Miss Poppleton's charge untilsuch time as he could come again and fetch her. How she got on in hernew surroundings, and how her independent Colonial notions contrastedwith more sober English ways, it is the purpose of this story tochronicle.