Chapter XVIII: The Morning After the Storm

NOT often was the little village of Holton in such a ferment of excitement as on the morning following the storm. As soon as the first faint gleams of day-break brightened the eastern sky, several fishermen assembled on the beach and strained their eyes in the direction of the Pope's Nose to ascertain what had become of the wreck. It was seen immediately that the ill-fated vessel had broken up during the night; the sea, which had calmed down considerably, was strewed with wreckage; and very soon the scene on the shore was a busy one, as the fishermen ran their boats into the water, and commenced collecting whatever salvage they could lay their hands upon.

By eight o'clock quite a crowd was watching the proceedings, including the captain of the lost schooner and the sailors who had been so mercifully preserved from a watery grave. Granfer Cole was there also, no worse for the drenching he had received the preceding night; and Miss Tidy hovered about, first gossiping with one, then with another, till it was time for her to hurry home and open the post-office to the public. Then Sir Richard Gidley with Ruth, closely followed by Nero, were seen approaching. Nothing had been known of the wreck at the Manor House till the morning, when the postman, the first corner from the village, had brought the news. Sir Richard had started for Holton at once with his grand-daughter, who had begged to be allowed to accompany him. The little girl had been thrown a great deal with her grandfather during her brother's illness; she had grown to know him better, and had lost her fear of him; whilst he, from at first tolerating her society, had actually grown to appreciate it.

The first enquiries Sir Richard made when he appeared in the midst of the villagers were for the shipwrecked crew. Immediately the captain of the lost vessel came forward, and gave him a brief account of the perils undergone during the preceding night. Sir Richard's eyes glowed as he listened to the story, so gratefully told, of how the doctor and his volunteers had gone out, at the imminent risk of their lives, to the doomed ship, for he dearly loved to hear of a brave deed; but he made no remark, although everyone saw he was deeply moved.

Meanwhile Dick had started to walk to the Manor House. Great was his disappointment, when he arrived there, at the absence of his grandfather and Ruth; but he found Mrs. Compton and Lionel in the dining-room, and poured the story of his experiences the night before into their ears.

"How I wish I had been there!" Lionel exclaimed. He was lying on a sofa, and his mother had been reading to him. "What a nuisance it is to have a game leg, to be sure! If there's anything exciting going on I'm certain to be out of the way! We could hear the sea roaring last night—grandfather said it was a ground swell; and I was simply longing to be down on the beach, although we knew nothing whatever about the wreck. You were in luck's way, Dick!"

"It was awful!" Dick responded impressively. "I never wish to see a storm again! The waves were like great mountains of foam, and the wind almost blew us off our feet, and made us gasp for breath!"

"How brave of Dr. Warren to go out to the wreck!" Mrs. Compton exclaimed. "Now, I call him a real hero!"

Dick looked delighted, especially when Lionel added his word of praise by saying heartily,—

"Dr. Warren's a very good sort! I shall never forget how awfully kind he's been to me, and I'm not a bit surprised that he showed up so well last night!"

By and by Sir Richard and Ruth returned. The latter was so full of chatter that her mother had to ask her to allow some one else an opportunity of speaking; and seeing her grandfather was regarding her with a disapproving frown on his face, the little girl sat down at the foot of her brother's sofa, and lapsed into silence.

"The storm has done a great deal of damage along the coast," Sir Richard informed his daughter. "The east cliff was washed right away last night."

"Washed right away!" Mrs. Compton echoed wonderingly. "What terrible force the waves must have had! I should have thought the east cliff would have withstood any storm!"

"I wish I could go and look!" Lionel cried impatiently. "If only my leg was well enough for me to get about!"

"You should be thankful it is as well as it is," his grandfather reminded him gravely.

"Oh, I am," Lionel answered quickly, flushing under the gaze of Sir Richard's reproving eyes; "but it's such a pity to be shut out of all the fun! Did you know the east cliff was washed away, Dick?"

"No," was the reply; "I never heard of the east cliff before."

"It was that high cliff which jutted out into the sea at high tide, forming a headland on the east from Holton," explained Sir Richard.

"Oh, yes; I've often been round that cliff looking for the secret passage," Dick answered, "but I did not know what it was called before. Is it quite washed away, grandfather?"

"Quite. The headland has disappeared altogether, making the line of cliffs almost straight."

Presently Sir Richard asked his daughter to accompany him into the garden to see the havoc the storm had worked there. The minute after they had left the room, Ruth's busy tongue began to chatter.

"Much good all our fine plans were for finding the secret passage!" she exclaimed. "I believe you boys thought you'd be sure to discover it!"

"We must have been near the entrances scores of times!" Lionel cried vexedly. "It would have been something to have been proud of if we had been successful in finding it!"

"I don't know," Dick responded; "I haven't thought so much about it lately—not since you were shot. That put it quite out of my head."

"Oh, but think how people would have talked about us if we had found the secret passage!" said Lionel, who set great store on public opinion. "I daresay it would have been put in the newspaper!"

"Well, they put all about your accident in the newspaper," Ruth reminded her brother. "I heard grandfather read it out to Susan Morecombe. It was headed in big print—'A Terrible Gun Accident,' and it said—"

"You've told me about that before," Lionel interposed hastily, mindful that the newspaper account had spoken of his ignorance of fire-arms, and desirous of hearing no more on that score; "you're such a magpie that you're bound to repeat the same things over and over again."

There was a little further conversation, and then Dick declared he must be going, for Aunt Mary Ann would expect him home in good time for the mid-day meal. Ruth suggested walking a short way with him, so after Dick had taken a farewell of Lionel and promised to come again shortly, and had found his aunt and grandfather in the garden, and had said good-bye to them, the two children started off together.

On reaching the lodge, Dick remarked to Ruth that she had better retrace her footsteps, but she elected to accompany him a little further; and he discovered her reason for doing so when she pulled him up at a gateway on one side of the road, and pointed to a small grey donkey complacently munching the fresh green herbage in the field within.

"That donkey belongs to an old woman who goes about selling scrubbing-sand," Ruth informed her cousin; "he's having a holiday now because his mistress is laid up with rheumatism. He's quite tame, and so good-tempered! Here, Neddy, Neddy!" And the little girl extended her hand coaxingly through the bars of the gate.

The donkey promptly came up to them, and submitted to have his face stroked, and his ears pulled softly, evidently pleased and flattered by these attentions.

"He knows me quite well," Ruth said; "I've often noticed him before. Wouldn't you like to have a ride on his back, Dick?"

"Without a saddle?" Dick asked somewhat doubtfully. "I don't believe I could stick on."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you could!" she assured him. "It's much easier than you think! I tried yesterday—there was no one about—and it was not at all difficult."

The children climbed the gate, which was locked, and dropped into the field. Neddy threw up his heels, and scampered a way from them; but he was soon encouraged to return, and Dick caught him around the neck.

"Now, you hold him whilst I get up," Ruth commanded.

"All right!" Dick replied.

After several ineffectual attempts to jump upon Neddy's back, the little girl at length accomplished the difficult feat. She sat sideways, bolt upright, scarcely daring to move lest she should slip off, but triumphant and smiling.

"He's the steadiest old donkey I know!" she cried gaily. "There! See how easy it is! Let him go now, Dick! Gee up, Neddy!"

The donkey paced solemnly around the field to Ruth's intense enjoyment. Suddenly he paused, seemed to think matters over, and then began to kick. Ruth uttered a shrill scream as she was pitched into a bramble-bush in the hedgerow; and Dick rushed towards her with a wildly beating heart, and a face from which all the colour had fled.

"Oh, Ruth, are you hurt?" he cried, as he assisted her to get up, and disentangled her skirts from the brambles. He gazed with dismay at a scratch on her cheek, and another on her nose, and tenderly wiped away the blood with his own handkerchief. "Oh, I'm afraid you are hurt!"

For a few minutes Ruth scarcely realised what her injuries were, but after she had given herself a shake which appeared to reassure her, she declared herself unharmed except for her scratched face.

"I'm sure I don't know what they'll say at the Manor House!" she exclaimed dolefully. "That wretched donkey! And I thought him so good-tempered! Do I look an awful sight?"

"Well, yes, you look pretty bad!" Dick answered truthfully.

"Oh dear! Lionel's sure to laugh at me! He always does whenever he gets a chance! I shall never have anything to do with Neddy again, and I meant to bring him some carrots to-morrow!"

The donkey had retreated to a distance, where he was calmly nibbling the grass. Ruth cast a resentful glance in his direction, but wisely took no further notice of him. The children climbed over the gate, and stood talking a few minutes in the road before they parted.

"What are you going to do this afternoon?" Ruth enquired.

"I think I shall go down on the beach and see what has happened to the cliffs," Dick replied.

"Perhaps I'll come too! I will if I can! Shall we explore, and try to find the secret passage? Lionel would be so surprised if we did! Oh, it would be splendid!"

"So it would!" Dick agreed. "But I'm afraid it won't be much good our searching!"

"Oh, but do let us! Anyway, I'll bring Nero, and we'll have fine fun with him. If you're on the beach first you must wait for me, and if I'm there first I'll wait for you."

"Very well. I'll come if I can. I hope your face does not hurt you much?" —and Dick regarded his cousin's disfigured countenance with real concern.

"Oh, no!" she responded, squinting in a vain attempt to look at the scratch on her nose, "nothing to speak of! I wonder if grandfather will want to know what I've been doing; if he does, I think I shall tell him, because he likes us to speak out, and if he asks you, you'll be sure to tell the truth."

"Why, of course," Dick returned; "you wouldn't wish me to tell a lie, would you?"

"No; but you might say I fell into a bramble-bush and scratched my face, without saying the donkey pitched me there."

"That would be only part of the truth," Dick objected, looking decidedly uneasy.

"Well, you needn't bother, I'm going to tell about the donkey," Ruth assured him, "and if grandfather is angry, I can't help it. I hope, though, he won't make me stay indoors this afternoon; and I must manage to get away from Lionel. Come down on the beach as early as you can!"

Dick said he would; and after that the two children went their separate ways. Going up the village street Dick overtook Granfer Cole, who had spent his morning on the beach, having had a most pleasant and exciting time in recounting his experiences of storms of bygone years to an admiring audience.

"I never saw one to beat last night's gale," he told Dick. "To think that the east cliff is gone! Dear, dear! I mind when I was a youngster how I used to go shrimping around the rocks that way at low tide, and what a powerful lot of shrimps I used to catch!"

"Do you think it likely that there is an entrance to the secret passage in that direction?" Dick questioned eagerly.

Granfer reflected in silence for a moment, then he replied,—

"Well, I should say it was probable. The east cliff was in a line with the Manor House, and nearer than any other part of the coast would be. Are you still hoping to find the secret passage, young gentleman?"

"Oh, yes! I daresay if it had not been for my cousin Lionel's accident we should have found it long ago! I've looked for it by myself, often; and now my cousin Ruth is going to help me. She only a girl, but she's a very nice sort of girl, with plenty of pluck."

Granfer nodded his head, and chuckled with amusement. Dick proceeded:—

"She can play cricket, and run nearly as fast as Lionel could before his accident, and climb like a cat, and shy stones—yes, I do believe better than I can; and I think she's about as brave as a girl can be. Why, only just now, she was kicked off a donkey's back into a bramble-bush, and she never even cried, although her face was badly scratched."

"What donkey was it?" Granfer enquired in his inquisitive fashion.

"A donkey belonging to an old woman who sells scrubbing-sand. It is in a field not far from the lodge of the Manor House."

"Ah, you mean a meadow adjoining the cliffs. I know the field, and I know the donkey, and I know its owner!"

Dick laughed, for Granfer's tone was quite triumphant. The old man prided himself on his knowledge of the district, and of every one living in the neighbourhood for miles around.

"You must be very tired," the little boy said kindly, as he noted the other's feeble steps, and how heavily he leaned upon his stout stick for support; "it's a pity your way home is all up hill!"

"I'd rather live where I do than anywhere else in the village," Granfer responded contentedly, "for I've plenty of fresh air, and I'm close to the church, so that as long as I can put one step before another I shall be able to go to God's house, and hear His Holy Word. Oh, I've much to be thankful for! But I'm keeping you, young gentleman, so I'll say good-morning!"

"Good-morning, Granfer!" Dick returned blithely.

He hurried home, fearing he was already late, and reached No. 8 Fore Street just as Aunt Mary Ann was taking up her position at the window to watch for his arrival, so as to welcome him with her brightest smile.