The Coming Wave. Page 345The Coming Wave. Page345
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Placing his left foot on a rock, his fair but heavy burden on his knee, clasping her waist with his left hand, while his right was fastened for support in a crevice of the cliff, he paused for an instant to recover his breath, and watch for a favorable chance to escape from his perilous position. Rosabel, in her terror, had thrown her arms around his neck, clinging to him with all her might. When he paused, she felt, reposing on his powerful muscles, that she was safe—she confessed it afterwards; though, in that terrible sea, and near those cruel rocks, the strength of the strongest man was but weakness. Leopold waited. If the sea would only recede for an instant, it would give him the opportunity to reach the broader beach beyond the shelf, over which he could pass to the Hole in the Wall. It was a moment of hope, mingled with a mighty fear.
A huge billow, larger than any he had yet seen, was rolling in upon him, crested and reeking with foam, and might dash him and his feeble charge, mangled and torn, upon the jagged rocks. Still panting from the violence of his exertion, he braced his nerves and his stout frame to meet the terrible shock.
With every muscle strained to the utmost tension, he waitedThe Coming Wave. In thisattitude, with the helpless maiden clinging to him for life, with the wreck of his fine yacht near, he was a noble subject for an inspired artist.
The coming wave buried him and the fair maiden in its cold embrace. It broke, and shattered itself in torrents of milky foam upon the hard rocks. But the larger and higher the wave, the farther it recedes. Leopold stood firm, though he was shaken in every fiber of his frame by the shock. The retiring water—retiring only for an instant, to come again with even greater fury—gave him his opportunity, and he improved it. Swooping like a strong eagle, beneath the narrow shelf of rock, he gained the broader sands beyond the reach of the mad billows. It blew a hurricane for some time. The stranded yacht was ground into little pieces by the sharp rocks; but her skipper and his fair passenger were safe.
On the identical flat rock in the Hole in the Wall where the steward of the Waldo had seated himself, after the wreck, Leopold placed his precious burden. He sat down by her side, utterly exhausted, and unable to speak. Hebreathed very hardly, groaning heavily at each respiration, for he had exerted himself to the verge of human endurance.
"O, Leopold," gasped poor Rosabel, gazing with tender interest upon her preserver, "you have saved me, but you have killed yourself!"
The gallant young man tried to speak, but he could only smile in his agony. Taking her hand, he pressed it, to indicate his satisfaction at what he had done.
"What shall I do?" cried the poor girl.
Leopold could only press her hand again; but she felt that she must do something for him. Throwing off her wet gloves, she began to rub his temples, to which he did not object. But in a few minutes more he was able to speak.
"I am only tired," gasped the boatman. "I shall be all right in a few moments."
Then the rain began to pour down in torrents. Leopold rose from the rock, and conducted Rosabel to an overhanging cliff, in the ravine, which partially sheltered them from the storm. The wind continued to howl, as though the squall had ended in a gale; but the rain soon ceased to fall, and Leopold helped his fair companion to the summit of the cliff.
"There is nothing left of the Rosabel," said Leopold, as he gazed down upon the white-capped billows which lashed the jagged rocks below. "She went to pieces like an egg-shell."
"Never mind the boat, Leopold. I am so thankful that our lives were spared," replied Rosabel.
"O, I don't care for the boat. I only thank God that you were saved. I thought we should both be dashed in pieces on the rocks."
"I should have been, if you had not been so strong and brave, Leopold. You might have left me, and saved yourself, without much trouble."
"Left you!" exclaimed Leopold, gazing into her beautiful face. "I would rather have been ground up into inch pieces on the rocks, than do that, Miss Hamilton!"
Rosabel believed him, and the tears flowed down her cheeks, as she brushed away from her eyes the auburn locks, soaked with salt water, and gazed into his earnest, manly face.
Before the storm had subsided, the Orion, bearing the agonized parents, was floundering in the billows off High Rock, with only a close-reefedforesail set. Leopold and Rosabel both made signals, to assure the father and mother of their safety. An hour later, when the waters were comparatively still, there was a joyous scene in the cabin of the Orion. Hot tears dropped from the eyes of father and mother, and convulsive embraces were exchanged. Leopold's right hand was nearly twisted off by the overjoyed parents and friends of her who had been saved from the Coming Wave.
The yacht sailed into the river again, and on the passage, Leopold, assisted by Rosabel, related all the particulars of the loss of the Rosabel, and of their narrow escape from the rocks and the billows on the beach under High Rock.
If Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton had before regarded Leopold, in any sense, as a servant, or even a boatman, they no longer considered him as anything but a social equal, a noble and dear friend, who had risked his life to save their beloved daughter. If they were grateful and devoted to him, not less so was Rosabel herself.
The party stayed a fortnight at the Sea Cliff House, and enjoyed themselves even more than during the preceding season. Every pleasantday a party went out in the Orion, and, having no boat of his own now, Leopold was glad to go with them. On the day after the storm, the mate of the yacht had left Rockhaven for New York, and the late skipper of the Rosabel was requested to perform his duty on board, which he did to the entire satisfaction of Captain Bounce. After the mate had been absent a week, the matepro tem.of the Orion, as the yacht was running out of the river, discovered a small sloop, headed for the light. Her hull and her sails were intensely white. She was a beautiful craft, and appeared to be entirely new. She was evidently a yacht, and Leopold knew that she did not belong to any of the places in the lower bay. The word was passed aft that a yacht was approaching, and all the passengers came forward to see her.
"That's her, Mr. Hamilton," said Captain Bounce, mysteriously after a little talk with his owner.
"Where is she from?" asked Leopold.
"New York," replied the ex-congressman, chuckling.
"What's her name?"
"The Rosabel."
"I didn't know there was any craft with that name, except mine," replied Leopold, as Rosabel placed herself by his side.
"She is new, and has not had that name more than a week," added Mr. Hamilton.
"Whom does she belong to?" inquired Leopold.
"She belongs to Leopold Bennington now."
This announcement was followed by a silvery laugh from the merchant's daughter.
"She is to take the place of the boat you lost."
"Here's a go!" grinned Stumpy, who was doing duty on board as assistant steward.
"We don't care to mystify you, Leopold," laughed Mr. Hamilton. "The mate of the Orion is in charge of her. She is a new boat, finished just before I left New York, and offered for sale. On the day after you lost your sloop, I sent the mate to purchase her for you. There she is, and she is yours. You can go on board of her now, if you please."
"Let me go, too," interposed Rosabel.
The new yacht came up into the wind, when the Orion did so, and one of the boats of the latter conveyed Rosabel, Leopold, and Stumpyto the sloop, bringing back the mate and the man who had come with him from New York. The new Rosabel was thirty-two feet long, with a large cabin, furnished with berths, and a cook-room forward. Leopold and Stumpy were enraptured with the craft, and looked her over with the utmost delight. They followed the Orion all day, and kept up with her, for the new Rosabel was even faster than the old one.
But our story is nearly told, and we cannot follow these pleasant parties on their excursions on the bay. Leopold and Stumpy sailed the new Rosabel the rest of the season, and the money flowed freely into their separate treasuries. The Sea Cliff House prospered beyond the expectation of the landlord, and he was abundantly able to pay off the mortgage on the hotel when it was due. Squire Moses dropped dead one day in a fit of apoplexy, and, having neglected to make a will, as he had often declared that he intended to do, his property was equally divided among his heirs. Stumpy found his mother independent by this event, but he continued to sail with Leopold in the Rosabel.
The next winter after the stirring incidents atHigh Rock, Leopold went to New York on a visit, and was heartily welcomed by the Hamiltons, who treated him with as much consideration as though he had been a foreign duke. Rosabel was delighted to see him, we need not add. The result of this visit was, that the merchant invited Leopold to take a position in his mercantile establishment, to which his father reluctantly consented. Stumpy took his place as boatman for the Sea Cliff House.
Leopold gave his whole energy to business, and when he was only twenty-two he was admitted as a partner to the firm. He was a splendid-looking fellow and no one would have suspected, after noting his elegant appearance, his fine manners, and his energetic business habits that he was not an original New Yorker. Of course he made frequent visits to the house of Mr. Hamilton, and was always a welcome guest. His relations with Rosabel were of the most interesting character; and now at twenty-six, he is a happy husband, educated and wealthy, and, with his wife to nerve his soul, he stands braced against the Coming Wave of Temptation and Sin, which is always rolling in upon the pilgrim of earth.
Differing from other books of this popular author in that it Is intended for adult readers, while the others are written for young people.
It contains about thirty bright and interesting stories of a domestic order, directed against the follies and foibles of the age. They are written in a kindly, genial style, and with a sincere purpose to promote happiness, good feeling, and right dealing in domestic, business, and social relations.
Many who have not time and patience to wade through a long story, will find here many pithy and sprightly tales, each sharply hitting some social absurdity or social vice. We recommend the book heartily after having read the three chapters on "Taking a Newspaper." If all the rest are as sensible and interesting as these, and doubtless they are, the book is well worthy of patronage.—Vermont Record.
As a writer of domestic stories, Mr. William T. Adams (Oliver Optic) made his mark even before he became so immensely popular through his splendid books for the young. In the volume before us are given several of these tales, and they comprise a book which will give them a popularity greater than they have ever before enjoyed. They are written in a spirited style, impart valuable practical lessons, and are of the most lively interest. We have seen these stories likened to Arthur's domestic tales; but while they instil equally as valuable lessons, we think them written with much more force and spirit.—Boston Home Journal.
A Library of Travel and Adventure In Foreign Lands, 16mo.Illustrated by Nast, Stevens, Perkins, and others.Per volume, $1.50.
1. UP THE BALTIC;Or, Young America in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.2. NORTHERN LANDS;Or, Young America in Russia and Prussia.3. CROSS AND CRESCENT;Or, Young America in Turkey and Greece.4. SUNNY SHORES;Or, Young America in Italy and Austria.5. VINE AND OLIVE;Or, Young America in Spain and Portugal.6. ISLES OF THE SEA;Or, Young America Homeward Bound.
"Oliver Optic" is anom de plumethat is known and loved by almost every boy of intelligence in the land. We have seen a highly intellectual and world-weary man, a cynic whose heart was somewhat imbittered by its large experience of human nature, take up one of Oliver Optic's books and read it at a sitting, neglecting his work in yielding to the fascination of the pages. When a mature and exceedingly well-informed mind, long despoiled of all its freshness, can thus find pleasure in a book for boys, no additional words of recommendation are needed.—Sunday Times.
A Library of Travel and Adventure In Foreign Lands. 16mo.Illustrated by Nast, Stevens, Perkins, and others.Per volume, $1.50.
1. OUTWARD BOUND;Or, Young America Afloat.2. SHAMROCK AND THISTLE;Or, Young America in Ireland and Scotland.3. RED CROSS;Or, Young America in England and Wales.4. DIKES AND DITCHES;Or, Young America in Holland and Belgium.5. PALACE AND COTTAGE;Or, Young America in France and Switzerland.6. DOWN THE RHINE;Or, Young America in Germany.
The story from its inception and through the twelve volumes (seeSecond Series), is a bewitching one, while the information imparted, concerning the countries of Europe and the isles of the sea, is not only correct in every particular, but is told in a captivating style. "Oliver Optic" will continue to be the boy's friend, and his pleasant books will continue to be read by thousands of American boys. What a fine holiday present either or both series of "Young America Abroad" would be for a young friend! It would make a little library highly prized by the recipient, and would not be an expensive one.—Providence Press.
1. GOING WEST;Or, The Perils of a Poor Boy.2. OUT WEST;Or, Roughing it on the Great Lakes.3. LAKE BREEZES;Or, The Cruise of the Sylvania.4. GOING SOUTH;Or, Yachting on the Atlantic Coast.5. DOWN SOUTH;Or, Yacht Adventures in Florida. (In Press.)6. UP THE RIVER;Or, Yachting on the Mississippi. (In Press.)
This is the latest series of books issued by this popular writer, and deals with Life on the Great Lakes, for which a careful study was made by the author in a summer tour of the immense water sources of America. The story, which carries the same hero through the six books of the series, is always entertaining, novel scenes and varied incidents giving a constantly changing, yet always attractive aspect to the narrative. "Oliver Optic" has written nothing better.
1. RICH AND HUMBLE;Or, The Mission of Bertha Grant.2. IN SCHOOL AND OUT;Or, The Conquest of Richard Grant.3. WATCH AND WAIT;Or, The Young Fugitives.4. WORK AND WIN;Or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise.5. HOPE AND HAVE;Or, Fanny Grant among the Indians.6. HASTE AND WASTE;Or, The Young Pilot of Lake Champlain.
Though we are not so young as we once were, we relished these stories almost as much as the boys and girls for whom they were written. They were really refreshing even to us. There is much in them which is calculated to inspire a generous, healthy ambition, and to make distasteful all reading tending to stimulate base desires.—Fitchburg Reveille.
This is a most entertaining story, and it also carries with it an excellent moral, self-evident to almost any reader. It is beautifully printed and graphically illustrated. The scene of the story is laid in Boston; and the author's experience with his mother-in-law is very readable, as is also his reckless expenditures for his wife's sake, he harboring a false pride which inclined him to think that keeping up appearances was nearly the whole life.If you want to place a thoroughly entertaining and profitable book in your library, do not fail to send to the publishers of this charming story, who will promptly furnish it on receipt of the price.—Boston Cultivator.
"Here is the last and best work of that instructive author. It is full of incidents of a fast life, the expedients to keep up appearances, resulting in crime, remorse, and the evil opinion of all good men. The narrative is replete with startling situations, temptations, and all that makes up a thrilling story, in the semblance of an autobiography well rendered, sprightly, pathetic, with a dash of sensation.