CHAPTER TWENTY.

  Happily human beings are so constituted, that grief with few, especiallywith the young, lasts long. After a time, Lady Nora and her cousinrecovered their usual spirits, and began to ride about the country asbefore. Their chief pleasure was to visit those they had long known,and to extend their search of others who might require relief. Thesurest means for those who are themselves in distress of obtainingcomfort is to do good to their fellow-creatures. Several times theypaid a visit to the old fishwife, Widow O'Neil. She seemed to havegrown more hardy and wiry than ever. It was wonderful what exertionsshe could go through. She often had the assistance of her brotherShane, who was, however, advancing in life, and not so active as before,while she appeared to have retained all her strength and activity. Theyremarked, whenever they paid her a visit, the delight she took inspeaking of her long-lost son. She never failed to tell them that shehad seen him in her dreams. She knew, she declared, that he wasthinking of her, and though she could not say why he was detained, hewas, she felt certain, endeavouring to come back to her. Sometimes shethought he was a slave in some foreign land; sometimes that he had beencast away on some desert island, and had to live there, unable to makehis escape, and sometimes that he was in prison. She said she knew hewas in far distant lands, as that alone would have kept him from her.They could not help being struck by the deep, the intense love andconfidence in him which the old woman always expressed for her son,though they naturally had considerable doubts whether, if he really wasalive, he could feel the same for her.

  "He was a handsome youth," observed Lady Sophy to her cousin, "but therewas a wild, daring look in his eye, and he was a lad who, when onceaway, and having obtained a better position in life than that which heenjoyed in his early days, would very likely cast off all thoughts ofhis poor mother, and would have no wish to return to her humblecottage."

  "Oh, no, no," said Lady Nora, "I could not think that of him; of courseI do not recollect him clearly, except from the sketch you made of him,but yet I am sure from the expression of his countenance that he musthave been as true and honest as he was handsome. No, I would rathersuppose that he has long since been killed. Just consider how manythousands of seamen have lost their lives within the last few years inthe numberless battles in which our country has been engaged, and howlikely it is that he was among them, and that is why no one has receivedany tidings of him."

  Such was the conversation which took place as they climbed up the hillto return to their horses. They had promised Widow O'Neil to visit heragain in a day or two. She had undertaken to supply them with shellswhich her brother Shane had collected, and which they wished to send toa friend at a distance. When, however, the day arrived on which theywere to pay their visit, the morning broke with a storm of rain andwind. The dark clouds chased each other over the sky, and the windwhistled round the towers of the castle.

  "It will be impossible for us to ride to Widow O'Neil's to-day,"observed Sophy when they met at breakfast. "I do not think MrFinlayson will promise to accompany us; he would not like to face thebad weather."

  "Perhaps the rain will clear off, and then he will not mind the wind anymore than we shall," observed Sophy.

  Mr Finlayson, who then entered the room, declared that should theweather clear, he was ready to mount the little cob which had beenappropriated for his use, which was so steady, that occasionally theEarl had gone out shooting on its back, and so sure-footed, it had neverbeen known to stumble.

  "But, my dear Lady Nora, you must be more careful than you were once ona time, on a skittish young horse which nearly proved your death,"observed the old lawyer. "A day like this tries an animal; and unlessyour steed is as steady as a rock I cannot sanction your going out."

  "Oh, I will take care to ride one of the best behaved of our stud,"answered Nora, "and Sophy shall have the next, as she is somewhat thebetter horsewoman. I am anxious to send off those beautiful shells toMiss Fitz-Patrick, as she particularly begged to have them, and we maynot have another opportunity of doing so for some time."

  It was thus arranged that the horses should be ordered in the forenoon,should the weather clear sufficiently, and that they would pay theirvisit to Widow O'Neil. In a short time the rain ceased falling,although the wind continued blowing as hard as ever; indeed, it was acomplete summer gale. The clouds rushed rapidly along the sky, and theseas rolled in with all their force from across the wide Atlantic. Itwanted an hour or more to the time they had agreed to set out, and thetwo ladies retired to their turret boudoir. Scarcely had they enteredthe room, when Lady Nora exclaimed that she saw a vessel in thenorth-west, at no great distance from the land. The glass was turned inthe direction towards which she pointed.

  "She is a large ship," she observed, "but she seems to me to have lostmost of her masts, there is but one standing; yes, I am sure of that,all the the rest are gone. With this fierce gale blowing on the shore,what a dangerous position she is in! I cannot make out what ship sheis. Do you look, Sophy; what do you say to it?"

  Sophy looked through the glass.

  "I cannot make out to a certainty, but from her appearance, I shouldjudge her to be a man-of-war. Yes, I am nearly sure of it; I should saythat she is a frigate, for when I keep the telescope steady, I canalmost count her ports."

  Nora looked through the glass.

  "Yes, you are right," she said; "she seems to be standing to the south,but she is evidently drifting fast towards the land. I see, though, shehas got some after-sail set on the stump of the mizenmast, and I think Iunderstand it; she wishes to weather the reef, and of course after thattake shelter in the bay. Yes, yes, that is clearly her object; she isstruggling bravely with the seas, but oh, in what fearful peril she isplaced."

  The ladies immediately ordered their horses round, proposing to watchthe progress of the ship from the cliffs.

  "I daresay that Mr Finlayson will not object to come with us at once,"said Lady Sophy, and she left the room in search of him.

  "Willingly, my dear young lady," he answered; "you will find that I amno despicable cavalier when once I am in the saddle."

  The party were soon mounted and cantering across the downs in thedirection of the struggling ship. Mr Finlayson was much lessacquainted with nautical affairs than were his fair companions, still heknew enough to be aware that the ship was in great danger. The windprevented them from making rapid progress along the downs, although theyurged on their steeds as fast as they could go, anxious to meet some onewho could give them further information about the ship. They determinedto go on till they reached the widow's hut, as they knew that, shouldher brother be there, as he had promised to be, they would learn morefrom him than from anybody else as to the probability of the shipescaping destruction on the dangerous reef towards which she appeared tobe drawing. Still they hoped against hope, that she might struggle onand escape.

  As they approached the end of the cliff above Widow O'Neil's cottage,they recognised her standing on a high projecting point of land, gazingtowards the ship. Her actions gave them the idea that she, like poorKathleen, had lost her senses. Wildly she waved her arm, sometimesclasping her hands, raising them towards heaven; then, again, shestretched them over the ocean. As the ladies and Mr Finlayson rode upto her, words of prayer were escaping from her lips.

  "What is the matter, Mistress O'Neil?" asked Sophy, riding up to her."Why are you thus agitated this morning?"

  "It is on account of a dream I had last night," she answered. "That isno wonder, though, for every night as I lie on my bed I dream that myboy is coming back to me, though when I am about to clasp him to myheart he escapes away again; but last night I dreamed that he really hadcome back, and there he was lying in my arms, just as he was when aninfant and smiling in my face. He must come back soon, too, for I amgetting old, very old, and oh, he will scarcely know me now! There isnot much time to lose; but he will come; yes, my lady, I know that hewill come. He will not be as young, and beautiful, and strong, andh
appy as he was when he went away, so many, many years ago,--I know nothow many; I have lost all count of them. Oh, they have been years ofgrief and mourning to me--sad, sad years; but such have been the yearsof my life since one I loved was taken from me. Ah, if you had knownhim, ladies, you would have said I had reason to love him: and now, myboy, my only boy, to have been thus long kept from me! But he is comingback, ladies. I tell you, I dreamed last night that he was coming back;and suppose he was to be on board yonder ship! Ah, but I feel sure thathe cannot be, for she will strike on yonder dark reef, and soon be ashattered wreck, to which no human being could cling and live. See howfiercely the seas roll in, and dash furiously over it! See, see how thebrave frigate is drifting faster and faster towards the land! When Ifirst saw her this morning she was a good two leagues away, and nowthere is not a quarter of a league between her and that rocky point. Ifonce she strikes upon it, few of her sturdy crew will ever come ashorealive. Few, do I say? none, none can live amid those breakers. Oh,Heaven protect them!"

  In spite of the strong gale which blew round them, neither the ladiesnor Mr Finlayson could tear themselves from the spot where they stood,it being the best situation they could reach for watching the progressof the labouring frigate.