Chapter XIX: Adrift

"I WONDER if Ruth will be here," thought Dick, as, two hours later, he sat on the edge of a boat on the Holton beach, waiting for his cousin. He shaded his eyes with his hand, for the sun was shining full into his face, and gazed in the direction she would have to come; and then her familiar figure, clad in serviceable blue serge, appeared in sight, accompanied by Nero, and the little boy smiled and drew a breath of relief, for he had feared she might have been prevented from joining him.

"Here I am, you see!" she cried, as she reached him. "Oh, I must rest for a few minutes, I'm fearfully hot, I've been hurrying so!" —and she sat down by his side, thereby nearly upsetting the boat.

"Oh, do be careful!" he expostulated.

"All right, I will! Isn't the sun warm for the last day of October?" She pushed back the scarlet jelly-bag cap she wore from her forehead, and glanced around appreciatively as she continued: "How quiet it all is! The sea is quite calm, I declare! Well, Dick, I had no difficulty in getting away, as it happened; after luncheon I just slipped out of the house without anyone being the wiser."

"Oughtn't you to have let Aunt Arabella know where you were going?" he asked, a trifle uneasily.

She shrugged her shoulders, and shook her fair head, her blue eyes gleaming mischievously.

"I told how the donkey kicked me off his back," she remarked. "Lionel said it served me right for being a tomboy; and mother said she didn't know, she was sure, how her daughter could be such a hoyden, and she wondered I hadn't been killed; and grandfather said what was no good never came to harm—I don't think he quite meant that!"

"Then grandfather wasn't angry?"

"Not a bit. He told mother the scratches on my face were only skin deep, and she needn't worry. She was fussy, you know; it's her way!"

Dick was fondling Nero, who was standing by his side, smiling up into his face with watchful amber eyes. The great dog was wagging his tail good-humouredly; perhaps he, as well as the children, anticipated an enjoyable afternoon.

"Did you have any difficulty in getting away?" Ruth enquired.

"Oh, no! Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus let me go wherever I please now, alone!"

"That's the best of being a boy! Just because I'm a girl mother's always telling me not to do this, and not to do that, and not to tear my clothes, or get untidy! She even grumbles about the freckles on the bridge of my nose—as though they mattered! Really it's too bad! What are you going to do first this afternoon?"

"Suppose we walk along the beach towards where the cliff was washed away?" Dick suggested.

"Very well. I'm cooler now, and ready to start."

Accordingly they rose, and strolled along, keeping close to the water's edge, occasionally pausing to throw stones into the sea for Nero to fetch. There were only a few fishermen on the beach, mending their nets and overhauling their gear, who looked up from their work now and again to watch the children; but by-and-by the two young figures with their black attendant disappeared from sight beyond the big rocks which strewed the shore.

"Oh, I say, what a change!" Dick exclaimed, as they came within view of the spot where the headland had jutted out from the cliffs, and they saw with their own eyes the damage the waves had wrought during the night.

The beach at that point was covered with rocks of various sizes, so that they were obliged to proceed slowly, skirting some, clambering over others, and laughing merrily at every slight accident in the shape of slips and falls, which damaged their clothes but did not impair their high spirits.

"It is great fun!" Ruth cried, in accents of delight. "What a jolly time we're having! I suppose," she continued a little nervously, "that the sea is really going out? We should be in a dreadful plight if it was coming in, and we were caught by the tide!"

"There's no danger of that," Dick replied; "it won't be low water for two hours yet. I'm certain, because I asked a fisherman, and he would be sure to know."

"Look at this lovely anemone!" Ruth said, going down on her knees, the better to gaze into the depths of a little pool between two rocks. "Isn't it a beauty?"

"Yes," agreed Dick; "but how about the secret passage? We ought to be looking for that!"

The little girl sprang to her feet, and they went further up the beach, and began to search around the base of the cliffs in hopes of finding an opening somewhere, but all to no purpose.

"It is just here where the east cliff was," Dick remarked, as he glanced up at the precipitous face of the cliffs. He had scrambled to the top of a large rock as he was speaking, and before Ruth had time to answer he slipped off the other side, and disappeared from sight. She laughed gaily, and waited for him to reappear; but instead of climbing up again he called to her in excited tones,—

"Ruth, Ruth, come here! Don't climb over the rock! See if you can't come round!"

She obeyed, and found there was about space enough to squeeze herself between the rock and the cliff. Dick caught her by the hand as she joined him, and pointed to a large opening like a yawning cavern in the face of the cliff.

"The secret passage!" he cried. "Oh Ruth, it must be the secret passage!"

"Oh, do you think it can be? How glad I am! I never thought we should find it, really! How lucky you slipped like that! But you don't want to go in, do you? Oh, I couldn't! It's so dark, and we don't know what might be there!"

"I don't suppose there is anything there that would hurt us," Dick replied—he had no intention of exploring further, however; "but I think we had better go back and let grandfather know what we have discovered before we say a word about it to any one else."

"Oh, yes! Don't let us waste our time here! I'm sure this is one of the entrances to the secret passage! I wonder why it was never found before!"

"Don't you understand, Ruth. The sea washed away the east cliff last night, and the entrance must have been hidden in it somewhere. The passage hasn't always been open!"

"How stupid of me not to think of that! Come, Dick, let us get back to Holton as soon as we can!"

They squeezed their way between the rock and the cliff, and began to retrace their footsteps; but it seemed as though they were returning at a much slower rate than they had come. At last Ruth suggested that if they went nearer the water's edge it would be easier getting along, as the beach was less rocky away from the cliffs. Accordingly they did so, much to the satisfaction of Nero, who waded in and out of the sea, and persisted in shaking himself every time he came close to his companions.

"Supposing it shouldn't be the secret passage after all; how Lionel will laugh at us!" Ruth said, her bright face clouding slightly. "I vote we don't tell him anything about it before we've spoken to grandfather!"

"All right, we won't! But I think it must be the secret passage; if not, it's a cave of some sort. Look, Ruth, there's a boat anchored on the beach just ahead of us. I didn't notice it as we came; that was because we were keeping under the cliffs, I suppose. Oh, I know whose it is!" the boy continued, as they reached it; "it's Jim Cole's! Jim lives in a little cottage above that steep, zig-zag path cut in the cliff; I went there once with Uncle Theophilus when Mrs. Cole was ill. Isn't it a jolly boat?"

"Yes," Ruth responded thoughtfully. "Can you row, Dick?"

"I should think I can! I have taken an oar many times lately when I've been boating with Uncle Theophilus!"

"Oh, then, do let us borrow Jim Cole's boat and row back to Holton! I'm sure he wouldn't mind lending it to us! Think what fun it would be!"

"I can't row with two oars," Dick was reluctantly obliged to acknowledge.

"You can take one oar, and I'll take the other. I am sure we can manage very well like that. You're not afraid, are you?"

"Oh, no; but—"

"Did Miss Warren or Dr. Warren say you were not to go in a boat?"

"No; but—"

"Oh, Dick, do stop saying 'but!' It's so stupid of you! I'm tired of walking on the sand and climbing over rocks, and we can row back to Holton in no time. Help me to get up the anchor."

It was fixed much more firmly than Ruth had anticipated; but after several futile attempts they succeeded in freeing it from the ground, and placed it in the bottom of the boat, then, the beach sloping towards the sea, they had no difficulty in pushing the boat itself into the water.

"Get in quickly, Ruth!" Dick cried, his scruples as to the wisdom of the step they were taking having completely vanished.

She obeyed, and sank, laughing gleefully, upon a seat, whilst the boy sprang in after her, and standing upright, pushed the boat off from the shore with an oar.

"Now we're off!" said Ruth. "Look at Nero! He doesn't like being left behind! Oh, I hope he won't try to come with us and upset us!"

The faithful animal was not so foolish as that, however, although he distinctly objected to the doings of his companions. He followed the boat into deep water, and swam around it several times in evident distress, his eyes full of reproach and trouble. At length he went ashore, and sitting down on his haunches—a miserable dripping figure—set up a most mournful howl.

"Poor old fellow!" exclaimed Dick pityingly. "It's a shame for us to leave him there! Let us put back, and walk home."

"Oh, no, no!" Ruth objected, "he'll follow on shore."

They each took an oar and commenced to pull, but scarcely made any progress at all.

"You don't keep stroke with me," Dick said at length, "and sometimes your oar misses the water. Presently you'll catch a crab, if you aren't careful!"

"I'm no more likely to catch crabs than you are," retorted Ruth rather crossly, for she was growing hot, and her arms were aching already; "let us wait a short while and rest!"

"All right!" Dick agreed readily, rather pleased at the suggestion, for his arms too were beginning to tire.

After a few minutes they started afresh. They rowed in a most erratic manner, and Ruth was heartily wishing they had never seen the boat, when Dick's prediction proved true; she caught a crab, and lost her oar.

"Oh, dear," she cried, clasping her hands in despair, "whatever shall I do?"

"We can't get it again," Dick told her gloomily, as he watched the oar floating far beyond reach, "and I'm sure I don't know what we're going to do. I can't get the boat ashore!"

"Then we shall drift out to sea!" Ruth exclaimed in a frightened tone, looking wildly around, and noting that the short October afternoon was closing in. "Oh, look at Nero," she continued, "he's running up and down the beach now, and howling louder than ever. Whatever shall we do, Dick?"

"We can't do anything," he answered in tragic accents; "it will be dark soon, and—and—"

His voice faltered, and he turned his face away that Ruth might not see his eyes were misty. He was terribly alarmed, and his companion was no less so. She cautiously stole to his side, and they anxiously scanned the shore in hopes of seeing a human form; but only Nero was in sight, and his howls were becoming more and more indistinct. They were drifting out to sea, for the tide had not yet turned. In the far distance were the sails of a few fishing smacks' but there was no boat they could possibly hail.

"We shall be drowned," Ruth said, beginning to sob. "I—I know we shall be drowned! Oh, it's awful, awful!"

"Don't cry, please don't cry," Dick implored piteously, struggling hard to keep back his own tears. "Perhaps God won't let us be drowned. You know, Ruth, God's here in this boat," he proceeded more bravely, as the thought brought comfort with it, "and we mustn't be afraid."

"But I am afraid, Dick! Don't you see the sun has set, and the light's going? It'll be dark soon!"

"Yes, but the night is the same as the day to God, Ruth. Don't let us be more frightened than we can help."

There was a brief silence. The children sat hand in hand, watching the shadows deepening under the cliffs, and the mist creeping over the sea. Dick thought of his parents in India, and wondered if he would ever see them again; then he prayed fervently to God for help, and tried to encourage his cousin not to give up hope.

"If we drift far out to sea perhaps a trawler will pick us up," he suggested, "or perhaps Jim Cole will miss his boat, and—"

"Oh, Dick, it's no good talking like that! I'm sure we shall be drowned!"

"Oh, no! In the morning—"

"We shall be dead by then," she interrupted, "dead of cold!" —and she shivered, and wept without restraint. "I wish I was a better girl," she said presently, wiping away her tears, "but I've always been naughty. I don't speak the truth like you do, Dick. I tell fibs—not great big lies, but little silly fibs; and I don't obey mother, though I know I ought; and I'm altogether nasty, I think!"

"I'm sure you're not," Dick replied earnestly. "You're not a bit nasty, and you tell the truth much oftener than you used—you told about the donkey this morning, you know."

"I am so glad I did! Do you think God will forgive me for all the wrong things I've done, if I tell Him how sorry I am?"

"Of course He will! I'd tell Him at once if I were you!"

There was another short silence. It was now almost dark, but it was a wonderfully peaceful evening—the calm after a storm. The children were utterly unconscious of the direction in which the boat was drifting. Ruth had ceased crying, though she could not prevent an occasional sob breaking from her lips. Dick was exceedingly sorry for her, and he was sorry for himself too; he did not talk because he was afraid his voice might betray the emotion he bravely restrained.

At length, when they had both made up their minds that it was useless hoping to be rescued from their harrowing position that night, they heard men's voices shouting, and presently a light glimmered at no great distance away.

"Oh, look, look!" cried Ruth excitedly, springing to her feet.

"Sit down," Dick said nervously, "or you'll upset us!"

She obeyed, whilst they both strained their eyes through the gloom, and saw that the light was coming nearer and nearer.

"It's a boat," Dick declared; "yes, I'm certain it's a boat. We shall be saved! Let us shout as loud as ever we can!"

They did so, and were answered immediately; a few minutes later a large boat came alongside, into which Ruth and Dick were carefully lifted by a couple of strong fishermen, whilst Jim Cole's little craft was taken in tow.

"Who's that?" whispered Ruth to Dick, glancing at a third figure seated in the bow; "why, I do believe it's grandfather!"

It was indeed Sir Richard Gidley. He drew his grandchildren towards him, and placed an arm around each.

"Thank God you are both safe," he said gravely, and there was the sound of strong repressed emotion in his deep voice. Until then they had not realised he loved them so well.