Chapter XIV: Olly Has a Bad Dream

Long before the rescuers and the rescued reached the shore with their leaky boat in tow, the excitement among Mrs. Murcher's boarders in regard to the yacht had been allayed by a telegram. The adverse wind of the evening before had caused the Susette to put into Portland; whence some of the party were to return by rail that morning.

So said the message; in consequence of which, interest in the unknown individual on the back of the "Old Cow" languished somewhat, until the arrival of the little party on the beach. Then it went up to the bubbling point again; and there was the liveliest effervescence of curiosity to know how Olly Burdeen, the faithful, unromantic chore and errand boy, had met with so wonderful an adventure.

Accompanied, or preceded, by those who had gone down to see him disembark, he mounted with slow, miserable, anxious feet the piazza steps.

There all the other ladies came out eagerly to meet him, and pressed around, marveling and questioning; and Mrs. Murcher, flushed from her molding-board, held up both her doughy hands.

"Why, Olly! where _have_ you been?" said one.

"In his new suit of clothes!" said another.

"The first time he ever wore them!" exclaimed a third.

And one laughed; the one of all whom Olly most dreaded to have see him in that plight.

It was not an ill-natured laugh by any means; and she would have helped it if she could. But Amy Canfield had a merry disposition. And Olly after his night of terror and fatigue, still oppressed with a horrible anxiety, humbled, drooping, rolling his distressed eyes in fear of encountering Mr. Hatville's, with the handkerchief still on his head and his new clothes torn at the knees,--it must be owned that Olly did look ridiculous.

"Why, Amy!" said Mrs. Merriman, "how _can_ you laugh?"

"It's so funny!" replied the tall brunette; "and I'm so glad he is rescued," she added, discreetly. "We all were so anxious, thinking the Susette had gone on the rocks; and it was only our Olly after all."

"What _has_ happened to you, Olly?" cried Mrs. Murcher, amazed to the end of her doughy fingers.

"I just went out to take a little row, last evening," murmured the forlorn Olly. "I lost one oar; it got tangled in the kelp, and a wave wrenched it out of my hand. Then I broke another, and the wind blew me off shore."

"And you've been all night on the 'Old Cow'?" said the good landlady.

"Worse than that," said Olly. "I was on the 'Calf.' And a part of the time in the water. I guess if anybody had been there on the 'Calf's' back in my place--alone--such a night!--waiting for the tide to rise and cover 'em--I guess they wouldn't have thought it much of a joke!" And Olly's voice broke.

"It must have been terrible, Olly! Do forgive my laughing!" said Amy, relenting. "How did you get to the 'Old Cow'?"

Olly faltered forth more of his wretched story, which was listened to with many an expression of surprise and sympathy, for he was rather a favorite with Mrs. Murcher and her lady boarders.

He had wished to go directly home to Frog-End, and had tried to induce the boys to carry him over in the ox-cart. But they were in haste to resume their work, which had been too long interrupted already; and they could not see why he should object to returning to the boarding-house.

After all, he thought to himself, the dreaded inquiry regarding the watch might as well be met first as last.

The kindness he met with made him feel more miserably remorseful and apprehensive than ever, for he knew that it was lavished upon him because his friends were still ignorant of what might at any minute now come to their knowledge.

He was really worn out with the long, fearful strain on his mind and strength, and he was quite willing to accept Mrs. Murcher's advice that he should go at once to bed and "take something hot."

The nucleus of the boarding-house was, as we have said, an old farm-house, which accounted for its not very sightly situation, there in a hollow of the hills. Besides the spacious addition, the original building remained, and at the end of the upper corridor was the old attic, with two or three steps descending to the door.

Olly's room was there, and there he was soon in bed, with ample leisure to think over the terrible part of his experience which was happily past, and the part which was unhappily to come.

He had not ventured to ask about the yachting party, lest something concerning the watch should come out. But he had accidentally overheard some one speak of the Susette having run into Portland. Everything else was uncertain. But, thankful for a reprieve however brief from the impending catastrophe, he ate the steaming gruel Mrs. Murcher brought him, sank into a state of stupor, and was soon rehearsing in dreams his dire adventures.

He was having a distressing conversation with a dog-fish of enormous size. The monster came up out of the sea, and resting its elbow on the "Calf's" shoulder, and its face on its hand,--a face and attitude grotesquely suggestive of Mr. Hatville,--accused Olly of having one of that gentleman's eyes in his pocket, although there were two spectral eyes as big as watches in the speaker's head, at the moment. The dispute was growing frightfully loud, when Olly cut it short by kicking the dog-fish, or Mr. Hatville, or whoever it was, back into the sea, and immediately woke.