Kitabı oku: «Girls New and Old», sayfa 16
CHAPTER XXV.
THE HEART OF THE GALE
WHEN Matilda parted from Kate she went up to her own room and stood by the window. She saw Kate leave the house and walk down the High Street. She noticed how she battled with the gale; she observed her when she paused to speak for a moment to Mr. Danvers. Their conversation was short. Kate continued her walk, and Mr. Danvers came toward the house. Matilda went then and stood opposite to her looking-glass. She was a plain girl, but she was fond of looking at her reflection in the glass. She looked at it now with a sort of satisfaction.
"Yes, I am plain," she said aloud. "I must admit, in the solitude of my room, that I have not a good feature in my face. Kate is handsome; Kate has got all that beauty about her appearance which been denied to me. It will be an interesting problem to see who will make the best out of life – Kate, the pauper, the charity girl, or I, who have more money than I know what to do with, but who am not possessed of beauty, nor of any special talent. I believe I see my way now to having a good time at Redgarth. Of course Kate won't dare to be anything but my friend now, for if she does I shall hold this knowledge over her. Yes, I think I contrived cleverly. I did nothing wrong. Oh, of course not! I could not help overhearing what Cecil and Molly said, and when Cecil dropped the letter at my feet, I should have been more than human if I had not picked it up. After all, it would have been wicked to conceal this matter from Kate. Poor Kate! how wild she looked when she went out! Oh, yes, my beautiful Kate, I know how to sting you! For all your false humility you are about the proudest girl I know. You proud! what right have you to be proud? Oh, I shall love to humble you! You have got neither birth nor money. There are some tolerably poor people who are well born; I can respect them – they have ancestors. I'd give anything in all the world to have ancestors; but Kate has nothing – nothing but her face, and her slim figure, and something which people call talent, in the back of her head. All right, Kate! you shall eat humble pie now."
Matilda ran downstairs to the sitting room. Cecil was bending over a book. Molly was darning some holes in Maurice's stockings; she delighted in helping Cecil with this work. Mr. Danvers was standing by the window looking out at the street, and the four boys were occupying themselves in various ways in different parts of the room. After a time, Mr. Danvers turned slowly round and faced the other occupants of the room.
"That is a fine creature," he said; "whether boy or girl. I repeat that the creature is fine. I don't often pay compliments to the softer sex, but I like that Irish girl. Now, can anyone in this room tell me what is the matter with her?"
Cecil flung down her book, Molly stopped darning, and all the pairs of eyes were fixed on Mr. Danvers.
"Are you talking about Kitty?" asked Charlie.
"Yes, boy, I am," replied Mr. Danvers. "I am talking about the individual whom you all call Kate. A fine unworldly creature, with a dash of poetry about her. I believe I could even teach her to respect Homer, if I had her under my sway for a spell. But what's the matter with her?"
"We didn't know there was anything the matter," said Cecil. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, why isn't she in this room instead of being drowned in an awful gale of this kind?"
"Oh, weather is a matter of indifference to Kate!" answered Molly. "She is Irish, you know. I think she was quite delighted at the thought of going down to see the sea in a storm."
"Well, I hope she'll come back soon," remarked Mr. Danvers. "It isn't safe for a girl to be out in an awful gale of this kind, particularly a girl with the look in her eyes which she wore when I met her this morning."
"What sort of look?" asked Cecil, rising from her seat and coming up to the little man.
"A reckless, defiant, wretched look, which a young thing ought never to wear," he replied. "I am going out now to look for her. It isn't often I see a woman worth putting myself out about, but she's one. You can come with me, Maurice, if you like."
"Yes, sir, with pleasure," replied Maurice.
"And I," "And I," "And I!" cried the three other boys. "You can't keep us back, Cecil; we mean to go."
Cecil did not reply.
"Now that the men of the party have made themselves scarce, perhaps we can read," she said.
She resumed her book placidly; she was evidently not in the least anxious about Kate. Molly leaned back on her sofa and took up her darning. Matilda went to the window. It was strange that Matilda should be the only one of the three girls who felt the least bit uncomfortable, but such was the case. She, too, had seen that startled, defiant look in Kate's dark eyes. Perhaps there was danger down by the shore. Certainly the gale was an awful one. How the wind did shriek and scream! How the rain rattled against the window panes!
"Of course I can't pretend to care for her," said Matilda to herself, "but I shall be a little more comfortable when she comes home. I should not like her to be knocked down or hurt in any way; I should feel that I had done it. Oh, nonsense! what in the world am I thinking about? That I had done it? What have I to do with it? All the same, I'll be glad when she comes back. Mr. Danvers said she looked in trouble; well, yes, she did."
"Matilda, won't you sit down?" said Molly; "you do fidget so by the window."
"I can't help fidgeting," said Matilda; "there's such an awful gale on. Say, you two girls, won't you be pleased when Kate comes back?"
"Of course," said Cecil, looking up with an expression of surprise; "but I didn't know that you cared."
"You think I care for nothing," said Matilda; "you have a hateful opinion of me."
"Sit down, Matty," said Molly, in a kind voice. "Here's a cozy seat on the sofa, and here is your novel, nice and handy."
"I can't read," said Matilda; "I am frightened. I never heard such wind, and how dark it is getting! What an awful day! I certainly do hate the seaside in winter."
"No one asked you to come," said Cecil. "If you won't read, perhaps you will stop talking. Molly, I think I'll get Mr. Danvers to go over this passage with me; I can't quite get at the meaning of it. Do you think he will mind?"
"No, of course he won't; he'll love to help you," said Molly.
"There's a flash of lightning," exclaimed Matilda, covering her face with, her hands. "Oh, how vivid! oh, I'm terrified of lightning! What a clap of thunder! it almost shook the house. Girls, it isn't safe for Kate to be out in this storm, is it?"
Another flash of lightning came, even more blinding than the first. Matilda crouched and shivered. Cecil and Molly put down their different occupations and walked to the windows.
"I do wish they were all in," said Cecil. "It certainly is an awful day."
"Well, here they are, they're coming," said Molly. "Don't you see Jimmy, how he rushes down the street? and that's Charlie with him, and there's Ted in the background."
A moment later the three younger boys dashed into the room.
"I say, you girls," cried Jimmy, "there's something awful up! Oh, we don't know what it is! but Kate can't be found anywhere, and Mr. Danvers and Maurice have gone on to the coastguard station to get some of the coastguards to help to look for her. There is an awful gale down by the shore, and the tide will be several feet higher than usual to-night, and she's nowhere to be seen."
"I knew it!" cried Matilda; "I knew it, and it is my fault!"
She fell down in a heap on the floor, and lay there, with her face hidden.
The girls and the three boys, who were dripping wet, stood and stared at her.
"Do speak!" said Cecil, catching Jimmy by the shoulders and turning him toward her. "Let Matilda alone. What did you say about Kate?"
"That – that no one can find her. She's nowhere along the shore," said Jimmy.
"But why should she be there at all?"
"She was there. An old fisherman saw her; he saw her more than two hours ago. She was going toward the caves where the skeletons are."
"Well," said Cecil, "well, speak! What is it, Jimmy? What is the matter? You look – terrified."
"I am," said Jimmy; "I can't help it. It takes a great deal to make a coward of me, but I am a coward now. It is Kitty, you know, Cecil. Cecil, they say the caves are completely covered; the others say they must be full of water now, and – and it's Kitty. If she's there, she's drowned like a rat. Oh, I'm going to help! I'll go back – I will help! Maurice and Mr. Danvers sent me back, but I will help to find her."
"I can't realize it," said poor Cecil, putting her hand to her forehead. "What are Maurice and Mr. Danvers doing?"
"They are going to take out a lifeboat to try and reach the caves."
"But they'll be drowned, too," said Molly.
"As if they cared for that when there's a girl to save!" said Jimmy, in a tone of withering scorn. "What are boys and men for but to save plucky girls like Kitty? Oh, I say, I wish you wouldn't make so much noise, Matilda!"
"Do get up, Matty, and stop crying and pulling your hair about," said Molly.
Cecil did not speak, but her face was like a sheet.
"It is my fault," said Matilda; "it is my fault!"
"What in the world do you mean?"
Matilda sat up and stared round her. For the first time in her whole life she was completely natural; she absolutely forgot herself.
"I did it," she said; "I goaded her to it. She'll never come home; she'll be drowned, and I shall be haunted by her all the rest of my days."
"Stop talking in that way, and tell us the truth," said Cecil sternly. "What did you do? Speak at once! Oh, what a mistake we made in bringing you here!"
"You did; I wish I'd never come. I made her nearly mad. I don't care who knows now. Perhaps I wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't been so cruel and spiteful."
"I?" said Cecil.
"Yes, you – you hate me so! I wouldn't have done it, perhaps, if only Molly had been here. Molly really tries to be good."
"Tell us!" said Cecil. "Stop talking about your motive. Speak – quick!"
"I heard all that Miss Forester said the other day about Kate."
"Then you eavesdropped again?"
"Yes."
"When and where?"
"In the shelter down by the shore. I was afraid the boys would bully me, and I crept into the back part, where there was repairing going on; and I pulled a tarpaulin over me, and no one saw me. You and Molly came in, and you read Miss Forester's letter aloud. I heard everything, and I was delighted. I was glad that Kate was to be humbled, and was to be only a charity girl. You dropped the letter going upstairs. I found it and put it in my pocket. I was very anxious that Kate should know the truth."
"You are a nice specimen of humanity," said Cecil.
"Oh, do let her speak now, Cecil!" said Molly.
"I don't care who knows," said Matilda. "Oh, there's another awful flash of lightning! I'm afraid I'll be struck; I'm not a bit fit to die. Oh, yes, I'm sorry I've been such a bad girl! You can't scold me, Cecil, more than I scold myself. Oh, there's another flash! Oh, I shall certainly be struck! Isn't it safest to go down into a cellar or to get into a feather bed?"
"Do go on!" said Cecil.
"Oh, I'm terrified! Oh, I know I'm a bad girl! You can't hate me more than I hate myself. Oh, dear, do let me take off my watch, and fling the keys out of my pocket! It isn't safe in a storm to have any sort of metal about you."
"Will you go on?" said Cecil.
"Yes, yes! I wanted Kate to know. You thought you had burned the letter with some other rubbish. I acted on that idea, and tore the letter in two, and burned the edges, and stuck the pieces under the fender here. Then last night I pushed the fender aside, and Kate saw the letter, and she recognized the writing, and I snatched it up and read a passage aloud before she could stop me. I read the part which told her everything. She knew her money was gone, and she was to be a charity girl. Oh, she was mad, mad, and she must have gone out to drown herself to-day! I expect she did. She's horribly proud, though you think her good. It's an awful sin on her part to be so proud. Why should she mind being a charity girl, if she is one? Oh, dear, oh, dear! another flash! That lightning will strike me dead. Oh, girls! do you think God will forgive me; do you think he will?"
"I can't speak to you," said Cecil. "I am going out."
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE OPENING IN THE CLIFF
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 was literally 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. If Mr. 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 was turning 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. "I must get 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.