C
CECIL walked toward the door; Molly was following, when Matilda pulled her back.
"You shan't leave me," she said, flinging her arms round Molly's knees. "I won't be left alone in this awful, terrible black storm. You know how wicked I am, Molly, and that I am not fit to die. You can't—you shan't leave me! God will never forgive you if you do."
Molly hesitated for a minute; the thought of her vow in the cathedral came back to her. She longed to fly out after Cecil, but after all, she could do nothing in the fearful gale, and Matilda—wretched Matilda—really needed her presence.
"All right; I will stay with you," she said. She dropped down on the nearest chair and covered her face with her hands.
Meanwhile Cecil, having slipped on her waterproof cloak and tied a hat on her head, ran out into the gale; the boys had long ago disappeared.
Cecil was a country-bred girl, but she had never been out in such weather before. Her old waterproof cloak was not very waterproof, after all, and in the space of a few minutes she wasliterally wet through. The rain was running in rivers down the little street, the puddles were pools, the pools were ponds, the ponds were small lakes.
"If this goes on, there will be a flood," thought Cecil. "How am I to get to the caves? How am I to save Kate? Oh, what awful lightning! It must be almost directly over our heads; there is not a second between the flash and the peal of thunder. Poor Kate, is she alive now? Why did she go to the cave where the skeletons are? We should have had none of this terrible trouble but for Matilda. But why did Kate feel it so much? Is Maurice's life to be sacrificed to Kate? I must find Maurice; he mustn't go in the lifeboat. No, no, he shan't! What shall I do? How am I to reach the coastguard station, in the teeth of such wind and rain as this?"
Cecil struggled on, every nerve strung to the highest tension; every faculty and force in her body stimulated to its greatest pitch to enable her to win the day in this terrible battle with the weather. She was buffeted and knocked about; her hat was torn from her head; her hair was loosened and flew wildly about her in the gale; she was so wet, too, that her heavy garments clung to her and impeded her progress. Suddenly, as she ran, a thought occurred to her. To attempt to put out to sea in such a gale as this was sheer and utter madness. Such a storm had not been known on the coast for many years. Cecil in all her life had never encountered such weather. IfMr. Danvers and Maurice really persuaded the coastguard people to launch the lifeboat, they would only cause their own death, and the death of the men who went with them.
"I must stop them," thought Cecil. "I would do anything that human being could do to save Kate, but she can't be saved that way. I know what boys are in a moment of excitement; I know that my boys, at least, have not a scrap of fear in them. Thank God, they are not cowards! and I'd give them, yes, I would, if there were any chance of saving Kate, after all; but to know that there isn't, and then to give them up—oh, I can't do that! Stay, what have I heard? Is there not some way of reaching the caves—some way from the top of the cliff? What was that story Jimmy told us one night about a smuggler who hid treasures in the cave and hauled up his goods by the cliff? I remember the night quite well, and Jimmy's face, and how we begged and implored of him to stop talking rubbish; but perhaps there is something in it, after all. Oh, if I can only reach the coastguard station before the men have lowered the lifeboat!"
Cecil battled on desperately and bravely. For some time she obtained partial shelter by means of a high wall which guarded a certain part of the road, but to reach the coastguard station she had to cross a headland. There was not a scrap of shelter here; nothing whatever to break the fury of the wind, and the lashing, biting power of the rain. To add to her discomforts, it wasturning bitterly cold, too; the rain was changing into sleet, the great hailstones hit Cecil's cheeks, lips, and forehead, causing her severe pain. She shut her eyes for one desperate moment, and almost gave up all hope of reaching her destination.
Suddenly the welcome sound of a human voice reached her ears.
"You'd best not go on, miss," said the voice; "the storm gets worse. Don't you venture nigh to the edge of the cliff; it aint safe."
Cecil looked up; a big, burly Jack tar was standing within an inch of her.
"I'm so glad I've met you," she said. "Imustget to the coastguard station, without a moment's delay."
"Whatever for, miss?" said the man. "I don't believe you can," he added, "the storm's that fierce."
"I must," said Cecil; "it is a matter of life or death. There is a young lady drowning in one of the caves down by the sea, and my brother and another gentleman have gone up to the station to ask your men to lower the lifeboat."
"Whew!" said the sailor, drawing in his breath and emitting a long whistle; "those that go out to sea to-day do it with their eyes open. Why, no boat, lifeboat or not, would live in this gale half a minute, miss. Is it to help or hinder you want to reach the station? I've not been there for an hour or two. I say, miss, no lifeboat ought to put out to sea to-day."
"It is to prevent it—to prevent it," said Cecil. "It is because of my brother. I can't have him drowned. Oh, be quick! can't you help me to get to the station? He is so fearless, and——"
"Take my arm, miss," said the sailor.
He turned without a word, pulled Cecil's hand through his arm, and, turning to face the gale, walked quickly in the direction of the coastguard station.
Cecil never remembered afterward how the end of that walk was accomplished. They reached the station just in time to see Mr. Danvers and Maurice helping two or three sailors to get the lifeboat out of its shed.
"You can't do it!" said Cecil, rushing down into their midst; "it isn't safe; it only means that several will be drowned instead of one."
"Then we must drown," said Maurice, with set teeth. "We must take our chance; it is a desperate thing, I know, but we can't stand here and do nothing, and let a girl die like a rat in a hole. I am surprised at you, Cecil!"
"Don't look at me like that, Maurice," said Cecil. "I am desperate—I don't pretend to be anything else. I'd let you go if there was any use in it, but there isn't. No boat could live in such a gale."
"You are right there, miss," said one of the coastguard men. "We couldn't refuse the gentlemen when they were so desperate earnest; but such a gale hasn't been known on the coast for the last twenty years."
"Come here, Jimmy," said Cecil suddenly. "What was that story you told us about a smuggler hiding goods in some of the caves?"
Jimmy, whose face was blanched with terror, brightened up considerably at Cecil's words.
"What a goose I was to forget!" he said. "It is true, isn't it, Evans?" he added, going up and standing in front of one of the tall coastguard men.
"What is true, master?"
"That there's an opening at the top of the cliff, which leads right down into one of the caves—the cave where the skeletons are?"
"Well, I've never seen it, sir, but my grandfather used to speak of it. It's my belief it's closed up by now."
"Let us try and find it," said Cecil. "There is not a vestige of hope of saving Kate by the sea. Even if the lifeboat could live in such a gale, she would be dashed to pieces on the rocks by the caves. Let us go to the top of the cliff and search for the opening."
"It is a sensible thought," said Mr. Danvers. "I will go, anyhow. I hate giving up the lifeboat, but I don't believe she would live for a moment in this storm. The other idea has but a glimmer of a chance, but we may as well try it. Now, boys, start away. Evans, perhaps you will come, too, and lend a hand."
"That I will, sir, and so will my mate, Sharp."
"And I too, sir," said a coastguard man of the name of Adams.
The little party was soon under way. They held each other's hands, and in this manner were able to struggle against the ever-increasing storm. The coastguard men had provided themselves with coils of rope and some grappling-irons to fasten into the top of the cliff. The distance from where they now stood to the cliff over the caves was nearly a mile; but, after a fierce tussle with wind and weather, they reached the spot; and then their desperate and forlorn search for the lost opening began.
M
MEANWHILE, Kate sat in the cave. She was all alone. In front of her raged the angry sea. She watched it at first from the entrance to the cave. Step by step, slowly but surely, she saw Death, the grim foe, advancing to meet her. Kate had been close to death a little earlier in the same year, but then she had been unconscious. If Death had really claimed her as his prey, she would have gone away into the other world knowing nothing of that last journey. In ignorance and oblivion she would have passed the boundary, and when she found herself in the Life beyond this life, she would recall no memory of the road by which she had come. To meet death by severe illness would have been in the ordinary course of nature, but the death which now awaited her was different. She was well again, and strong; she had recovered from her accident; all her feelings were alive and keen; she was young, too, and had nothing, in the ordinary sense, to do with death; it was very awful to Kate to see it coming up to her in this manner.
The very vividness of her imagination only added to the horrors which she now endured.She was about to part from life, and life at this moment became exceedingly precious to her. The thought of the real suffering which she had endured a few hours back, sitting in the entrance of this very same cave, now seemed trivial and of no account whatever. She had been a very angry and passionate and rebellious girl. She had thought her pride and independence honorable and righteous, something to hug to her heart, to cling to, whatever happened; now it seemed but a paltry sort of rag, not worth a moments thought nor a moment's pain. For the sake of it, however, she was about really to lose her life. Because she could not accept a great kindness, because she would rather turn her back on all her true friends than hear certain silly words applied to her, she was to die.
"I was mad," thought Kate to herself. "I see the thing in its right light now. My proud heart could not brook the thing. Oh, grandfather! you used to tell me many times that I must conquer the pride which has been my undoing. I was proud of my very openness and humility; I was proud of telling the girls what I really was, but this last indignity I could not, I would not, submit to. I would not rule my spirit in this matter!
"'Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city.'
"I would not rule my spirit, and now God has taken me at my word. I came out here to have a fight with my own proud heart. I know thatGod was whispering to me all the time not to be angry and impatient, not to throw away the chances he was giving me. He wanted me to cultivate my talents, and he showed me this way, which was hard to take, and bitter; but it was his way, and he wanted me to take it. Oh, I was mad! I refused—I gave the devil the victory, and God was angry, and now he is punishing me. God has taken me at my word. I shall never eat the bread of charity. No one will ever call me a charity girl now. God is taking away the life which I would not use as he wanted me to use it. Oh, I never thought I should fear death! How beautiful grandfather looked when he died! but he was ready, and I am not. I am young. How full of life I feel! how my heart bounds! how keen and strong my brain has got once again! but in a few minutes, perhaps an hour, it will all be over; my brain will have no more thoughts; my heart will be quiet. I shall be dead—drowned!
"I wonder how people feel when they are drowning. I have read accounts of drowning people, and they say that, just before they go, they see all the old life, that it passes before them as a sort of vision. I wonder if grandfather knows that I shall be with him to-day. Perhaps I am not good enough to see him. I am so sorry to die. O God, is it possible that you can forgive me even yet, and let me use my life now in your way, and not my own way? Oh, I don't want to die!"
Kate crept a little farther into the cave. The great storm of nature was raging magnificently outside. Flashes of lightning were filling the cave with a lurid light from moment to moment. The thunder rolled and echoed. But Kate scarcely noticed the storm. Her whole mind, every nerve, every scrap of feeling she possessed, became soon absorbed in watching the water. She had no fear of the lightning striking her, but she dreaded the ever-rising tide inexpressibly. In a short time it reached the entrance to the cave—the next wave rolled in, washing the sandy floor. Kate started back in fear. She moved inch by inch farther and farther into the recesses of the cave; soon she was standing almost in the dark. The waves echoed with a horrible hollow sound as they entered the cave; they seemed to dance and play with one another.
The storm of thunder and lightning was gradually dying away, but now and then a flash still lit up the cave; and cast a reflection, like momentary fire, on the crests of the rolling billows. Kate's agony and terror grew worse and worse. She found herself at last at the extreme end of the narrow cave. She climbed a shelf of rock, and took refuge where the skeletons of the long-dead woman and child were lying in their clay bed; she felt the clay, and found it hard and dry. As a rule, therefore, the water did not reach this point. But Kate was well aware that this was a flood-tide, which, helped by the terrific gale, would reach a far higher spot than that usuallygained by the waters. She clasped her hands, clung to the side of the rock, closed her eyes, and endeavored to pray.
"I will try and be resigned," thought the poor girl to herself. "I will try not to be angry and impatient; I will try hard to turn my thoughts from the world. I deserve this punishment. God was very good to me, and I would not have his goodness; now he is taking me away. Oh, I will try to be patient, and not to be a coward! I will try to meet my death calmly. Oh, if only it were all over—the shock—the suffocation—the struggle for breath! Suppose I fling myself into the water and get it over at once. No, I won't do that; perhaps I may be able to hold on; perhaps the tide will not reach such a high point, after all, and if I stand up here, and cling tight to the rock, the water may really turn before I am drowned.
"Oh, I wish I were ready to go! I wish I had thought of the things of the other world a little more when I was well and strong. Grandad used to say so much about being ready to die. He used to say that it put everything into a right focus, and then this world never looked too big nor important, and there was no room in the heart for foolish, silly pride, nor any other merelyworldlysins. Grandad was ready; I wish I were. Oh, it is awful to be drowned like this in the dark! I wish there was some higher shelf on the rock that I could grasp and cling to: I wish I were not so frightened. There, that is the firstwave; it has touched my feet, it has washed just over the shelf where I am standing. How bitterly cold the water feels, and how strong! but the rock is stronger. I will cling to the side of the rock with both my hands. What is that hymn—'Rock of Ages'? Grandad and I used to sing it on Sunday evenings: 'Rock of Ages, cleft for me.' I will shut my eyes and try to think of the old hymn.
"'While I draw this fleeting breath,When mine eyelids close in death.'
"Yes; 'when mine eyelids close in death.'" It will soon be all over now. I shall see grandad, and I think,somehow, God will forgive me. Poor Kate! yes, grandfather used often to call me 'Poor Kate.' He said I had a stormy nature; he said he was the same when he was young, but he conquered himself. Poor Kate! I didn't conquer it, and now I am going.
"'Rock of Ages, cleft for me.' I am not so frightened since I have thought about the Rock of Ages. Yes, the water is very cold; icy cold. It is up to my knees now; how fast it is coming in! 'Rock of Ages.' I'll shut my eyes and try to think of the hymn."
"Kate!" called a voice; "Kate!"
It sounded, muffled, and from a long way off, but no clarion note from the clearest trumpet could have made a more complete revolution in all Kate O'Connor's feelings. When she heard it she roused herself on the instant from a stateof stupor into one of vigorous action. She had thought herself almost in the other world, but once again now she was keen to battle for her life.
"Kate!" called the voice. It sounded like Cecil's, only very, very far away. "Are you there? Answer me; shout up, if you are—say yes."
"Yes!" called Kate.
She was no longer weak—her voice had gone from her with a shout. Her vigorous "yes" was answered by a faint cheer, which seemed to come from miles away.
"Kate," called the same voice again, "there is a rope coming down to you—a stout rope; tie it firmly round your waist when it comes, and we'll pull you up. A rope will be with you in a minute."
"Be quick!" called Kate.
She had scarcely said the words before something dangled against her face; it was a thick rope weighted with lead. Here was her last chance. With vigorous, frantic haste she tied it securely round her waist.
"Say when you are ready," cried the voice from above.
Kate gave the rope another pull.
"Ready!" she called.
The next instant she found herself lifted gently off her feet. Up and up, through the narrow passage in the cliff, she was drawn; up, and up, and up, until at last, bruised and shaken, butstill alive, she saw once again the glad, the beautiful, light of day. No matter that the elements raged and the winds blew, and the very earth seemed to shake—it was still the glad old earth; Kate was alive, and death was far away. It seemed too good to be true.
They all brought Kate O'Connor back in triumph; she was petted, and soothed, and kissed, and made much of. Even Matilda rushed to her and flung her arms round her neck, and burst into tears over her, and Kate, wonderful to say, did not repulse her. Then she had a hot bath and was put to bed, and she closed her eyes and dropped to sleep, while Cecil and Molly watched her, too excited and too rejoiced to leave her even for a moment. When she awoke from that sound sleep, she was none the worse for her terrible adventure.
"Molly and Cecil, I want to say something," said Kate, clasping both their hands in hers. "God saved me from drowning almost through a miracle; and I am so glad to be alive again, Molly, and so delighted to be able to kiss you, Cecil, and this bed is so delicious, and your dear faces are so lovely, and the earth is such a grand, splendid battlefield, and it is such agoodthing to be young and strong, that if every girl at Redgarth taunts me with the fact that I eat the bread of charity, I shall not mind them now. For I think, there, in that awful gale, God showed me, himself, a way to rule my spirit. So,girls, I am going to forgive Matilda, and I'm going openly and frankly to accept Miss Forester's offer; and if I repent of it by and by, and have to fight my battles over again, you will promise to remind me of what I've said just now."
"Oh, I think you are grand!" said Molly. "I think you've the best pride after all—the right pride.".
"Kiss me!" said Cecil.
THE END.
Transcriber's Notes:Punctuation errors repaired.Page 144, repeated word "like" removed from text. Original read (I felt like like cutting)Page 166, "spirts" changed to "spirits" (all her high spirits)Page 288, "season" changed to "reason" (for no other reason)
Transcriber's Notes:
Punctuation errors repaired.
Page 144, repeated word "like" removed from text. Original read (I felt like like cutting)
Page 166, "spirts" changed to "spirits" (all her high spirits)
Page 288, "season" changed to "reason" (for no other reason)