Chapter XII: Milly's Escape

THE person to be thought of first of all was grandma, who was an old lady, and not very strong. Mrs. Morgan proposed that she should have a room in the public house close by the beach, and lie down while the gentlemen caught fish, and others made ready for the famous chowder. But she said the salt air strengthened her; and she wished to breathe all she could of it.

So, instead of having the horses taken out at the stable, Uncle George drove down to a great rock close by the high water mark, and then had the hostler unharness and lead the horses back.

Mr. Ward thought this a capital idea, and did the same. Then, with the cushions of both carriages, they made a most comfortable lounge on the back seat, where grandma could lie and watch everything that was going on.

Mr. Morgan and Mr. Ward then took their fish tackle, and started off for the rocks to catch rock perch, while the ladies unpacked the baskets, and the children gathered stones into a heap to set the kettle on, and plenty of sticks for the fire.

All were amused to watch Milly, running here and there in search of a stone of the right size, then tugging it toward the pile, her eyes shining, her checks rosy, her hat off, and her hair streaming behind her.

At last, the small chimney, as Ernest called it, was built. And Milly took her basket and wandered off in search of bright mosses; leaving Emily and Ernest to gather sticks to make the pot boil.

The other children being too young to run round by themselves, played around the carriages, or gathered stones and shells within their reach. Emily and Ernest wandered here and there till they were almost out of sight of the great rock near which the carriages stood. They had each gathered an armful of broken pieces and were about to return with them for the fire, when Ernest threw his down and kneeled upon the sand, calling out to Emily to come and see what he had found.

There, on the smooth, silvery beach, lay a large, round, slippery-looking creature, basking itself in the sun. Earnest did not know what it was; but by the description, his father afterwards told him, it was called a jelly fish. It was a disgusting creature; but the boy didn't care for that. He took one of his sticks, and punched it; and then, as it did not stir, he told Emily it was dead. When they had examined it as long as they wished, and Emily had filled her pocket with smooth, bright stones, Ernest picked up his sticks again, and they went back to the rock.

"Where is Milly?" inquired Mrs. Morgan.

"I thought she would be back here by this time," answered Emily. "She did not go with us."

"Which way did she go?"

"Round the other side of the rock."

The lady looked very anxious. "I'm afraid she will be lost," she said. "Some of us must go and look for her."

Cousin Mary Roby, and also Mrs. Ward's sister Jennette, at once volunteered to make the search. So taking the sun umbrellas, they started off in the direction Emily had seen her cousin go.

But neither in this, nor in any other direction, could they find her. They inquired of children coming and going, if they had seen a little girl with a basket; but no one had noticed her. At last, they were obliged to return without any intelligence of the wanderer.

"What shall we do?" exclaimed her aunt, in real distress. "It was very wrong of her to go out of sight."

"Oh, mamma! Don't say so," urged Emily. "I'm sure she didn't mean to do wrong."

"Did you call her name, Mary?"

"We tried to; but the roaring of the water quite drowned our feeble voices."

"I must go at once," said Mrs. Morgan, taking a broad rimmed hat from the carriage. "I do wish George would come."

Just at this moment, there was a loud shout from behind the rock.

"Emily! Emily!"

"Oh, that's Milly!" screamed her cousin. "I'm so very glad."

"So am I," added her mother. "I was really alarmed."

"Why, what have you been doing!" exclaimed Emily, as she caught sight of her cousin whose clothes were dripping with wet; but whose face was beaming with delight.

"I was almost drowned," said Milly calmly. "But I've got some beauties. Look here!"

She held up her basket, lifting two or three bright red pieces of moss.

"But, Milly, you'll take cold with those wet clothes. Come right to mamma."

"Well, I will, if you'll put this under Uncle George's seat. Don't let any body see you. I'll show them to you when we get home."

Poor Milly was indeed a sight to behold. She had lost the ribbon that tied back her hair. And by constantly putting up her wet hands to push the locks from her face, she had covered her forehead with sand; her boots were saturated with water, and her skirts dripped with wet. Nobody seemed to know what to do with her, till grandma proposed to take off her wet garments, wrap her in a shawl, and let her stay in the carriage till her clothes dried, which they would in a few minutes, if hung in the hot sun.

Lying on the seat beside grandma, with the roaring of the billows to lull her, Milly's tender heart was at rest.

She told the old lady that she jumped on a rock to look at the waves, and staid there so long that the water came up all around her. At first, she thought it would go away again; but it came up higher and higher, until it covered her feet on the rock.

"How did you feel?" asked grandma, greatly moved. "Were you afraid?"

"I was at first, but not after I asked God to take care of me. He knows I've been trying to be good. Then I thought of Emily; and I felt awful bad when I said 'I shall never see her again.' So I shut my eyes, and jumped right into the water, and a great wave came and pushed me right up on the beach. Wasn't God real good to answer my prayer so quick? It makes me love him dearly, dearly."

"He was indeed, my dear child, I hope you will never forget it."

"No, ma'am, I never shall. When I go back to India, I shall tell my father. I know he'll be glad, too. I mean to go as soon as I can, so as to tell the poor Hindoos about God. When they know how to read the Bible they'll learn to be neat, you know."