Michael Penguyne; Fisher Life on the Cornish Coast, by William H GKingston. 

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In this rather short book Kingston tells us of the hard life and its fewpleasures of the fisher-folk of Cornwall. Gales and a forbiddingcoast-line can often spell disaster to the poor fisherman caught out ina rising tempest. Yet throughout this he and his family, with fewexceptions, remain steadfast and God-fearing, with relatives springingto the aid of orphans and wives following a tragedy. 

Kingston is here at his most persuasively Christian, arguing that boththe good things of life and the bad, are dealt out to us by anall-seeing fatherlike God. 

It does not take long to read, but you will certainly enjoy it. As itprobably didn't take long to write it is not one of Kingston's greatmasterpieces, but it is certainly worth taking note of. 

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MICHAEL PENGUYNE, FISHER LIFE ON THE CORNISH COAST, BY WILLIAM H GKINGSTON. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

As the sun rose over the Lizard, the southernmost point of old England, his rays fell on the tanned sails of a fleet of boats bounding lightlyacross the heaving waves before a fresh westerly breeze. The distantshore, presenting a line of tall cliffs, towards which the boats weresteering, still lay in the deepest shade. 

Each boat was laden with a large heap of nets and several baskets filledwith brightly-shining fish. 

In the stern of one, tiller in hand, sat a strongly-built man, whosedeeply-furrowed countenance and grizzled hair showed that he had beenfor many a year a toiler on the ocean. By his side was a boy of abouttwelve years of age, dressed in flushing coat and sou'wester, busilyemployed with a marline-spike, in splicing an eye to a rope's-end. 

The elder fisherman, now looking up at his sails, now stooping down toget a glance beneath them at the shore, and then turning his headtowards the south-west, where heavy clouds were gathering fast, meanwhile cast an approving look at the boy. 

"Ye are turning in that eye smartly and well, Michael, " he said. "Whatever you do, try and do it in that fashion. It has been my wish toteach you what is right as well as I know it. Try not only to pleaseman, my boy, but to love and serve God, whose eye is always on you. Don't forget the golden rule either: `Do to others as you would theyshould do to you. '"

"I have always wished to understand what you have told me, and tried toobey you, father, " said the boy. 

"You have been a good lad, Michael, and have more than repaid me for anytrouble you may have caused me. You are getting a big boy now, though, and it's time that you should know certain matters about yourself whichno one else is so well able to tell you as I am. "

The boy looked up from his work, wondering what Paul Trefusis was goingto say. 

"You know, lad, that you are called Michael Penguyne, and that my nameis Paul Trefusis. Has it never crossed your mind that though I havealways treated you as a son--and you have ever behaved towards me as agood and dutiful son should behave--that you were not really my ownchild?"

"To say the truth, I have never thought about it, father, " answered theboy, looking up frankly in the old man's face. "I am oftener calledTrefusis than Penguyne, so I fancied that Penguyne was another nametacked on to Michael, and that Trefusis was just as much my name asyours. And oh! father, I would rather be your child than the son ofanybody else. "

"There is no harm in wishing that, Michael; but it's as well that youshould know the real state of the case, and as I cannot say what mayhappen to me, I do not wish to put off telling you any longer. I am notas strong and young as I once was, and maybe God will think fit to takeme away before I have reached the threescore years and ten which Heallows some to live. We should not put off doing to another time whatcan be done now, and so you see I wish to say what has been on my mindto tell you for many a day past, though I have not liked to say it, lestit should in any way grieve you. You promise me, Michael, you won't letit do that? You know how much I and granny and Nelly love you, and willgo on loving you as much as ever. "

"I know you do, father, and so do granny and Nelly; I am sure they loveme, " said the boy gazing earnestly into Paul's face, with wonder and ashade of sorrow depicted on his own countenance. 

"That's true, " said Paul. "But about what I was going to say to you. 

"My wife, who is gone to heaven, Nelly's mother, and I, never hadanother child but her. Your father, Michael, as true-hearted a seamanas ever stepped, had been my friend and shipmate for many a long year. We were bred together, and had belonged to the same boat fishing offthis coast till we were grown men, when at last we took it into ourheads to wish to visit foreign climes, and so we went to sea together. After knocking about for some years, and going to all parts of theworld, we returned home, and both fell in love, and married. Yourmother was an orphan, without kith or kin, that your father could hearof--a good, pretty girl she was, and worthy of him. 

"We made up our minds that we would stay on shore and follow our oldcalling and look after our wives and families. We had saved some money, but it did not go as far as we thought it would, and we agreed that ifwe could make just one more trip to sea, we should gain enough for whatwe wanted. 

"You were about two years old, and my Nelly was just born. 

"We went to Falmouth, where ships often put in, wanting hands, andmasters are ready to pay good wages to obtain them. We hadn't beenthere a day, when we engaged on board a ship bound out to the WestIndies. As she was not likely to be long absent, this just suited us. Your father got a berth as third mate, for he was the best scholar, andI shipped as boatswain. 

"We made the voyage out, and had just reached the chops of the Channel, coming back, bound for Bristol, and hoping in a few days to be homeagain with our wives, when thick weather came on, and a heavy gale ofwind sprang up. It blew harder and harder. Whether or not the captainwas out of his reckoning I cannot say, but I suspect he was. Beforelong, our sails were blown away, and our foremast went by the board. Wedid our best to keep the ship off the shore, for all know well that itis about as dangerous a one as is to be found round England. 

"The night was dark as pitch, the gale still increasing. 

"`Paul, ' said your father to me as we were standing together, `you and Imay never see another sun rise; but still one of us may escape. Youremember the promise we made each other. '

"`Yes, Michael, ' I said, `that I do, and hope to keep it. '

"The promise was that if one should be lost and the other saved, he whoescaped should look after the wife and family of the one who was lost. 

"I had scarcely answered him when the look-out forward shouted `Breakersahead!' and before the ship's course could be altered, down she came, crashing on the rocks. It was all up with the craft; the seas camedashing over her, and many of those on deck were washed away. Theunfortunate passengers rushed up from below, and in an instant wereswept overboard. 

"The captain ordered the remaining masts to be cut away, to ease theship; but it did no good, and just as the last fell she broke in two, and all on board were cast into the water, I found myself clinging withyour father to one of the masts. The head of the mast was resting on arock. We made our way along it; I believed that others were following;but just as we reached the rock the mast was carried away, and he and Ifound that we alone had escaped. 

"The seas rose up foaming around us, and every moment we expected to bewashed away. Though we knew many were perishing close around us we hadno means of helping them. All we could do was to cling on and try andsave our own lives. 

"`I hope we shall get back home yet, Michael, ' I said, wishing to cheeryour father, for he was more down-hearted than usual. 

"`I hope so, Paul, but I don't know; God's will be done, whatever thatwill is. Paul, you will meet me in heaven, I hope, ' he answered, for hewas a Christian man. `If I am taken, you will look after Mary and myboy, ' he added. Again I promised him, and I knew to a certainty that hewould look after my Nelly, should he be saved and I drowned. 

"When the morning came at last scarcely a timber or plank of the wreckwas to be seen. What hope of escape had either of us? The foamingwaters raged around, and we were half perished with cold and hunger. Onlooking about I found a small spar washed up on the rock, and, fasteningour handkerchiefs together, we rigged out a flag, but there was littlechance of a boat putting off in such weather and coming near enough tosee it. We now knew that we were not far off the Land's End, on one oftwo rocks called The Sisters, with the village of Senum abreast of us. 

"Your father and I looked in each other's faces; we felt that there waslittle hope that we should ever see our wives and infants again. Stillwe spoke of the promise we had made each other--not that there was anyneed of that, for we neither of us were likely to forget it. 

"The spring tides were coming on, and though we had escaped as yet, thesea might before long break over the rock and carry us away. Even if itdid not we must die of hunger and thirst, should no craft come to ourrescue. 

"We kept our eyes fixed on the distant shore; they ached with the strainwe put on them, as we tried to make out whether any boat was beinglaunched to come off to us. 

"A whole day passed--another night came on. We did not expect to seethe sun rise again. Already the seas as they struck the rock sent thefoam flying over us, and again and again washed up close to where wewere sitting. 

"Notwithstanding our fears, daylight once more broke upon us, but whatwith cold and hunger we were well-nigh dead. 

"Your father was a stronger man than I fancied myself, and yet he nowseemed most broken down. He could scarcely stand to wave our flag. 

"The day wore on, the wind veered a few points to the nor'ard, and thesun burst out now and then from among the clouds, and, just as we weregiving up all hope, his light fell on the sails of a boat which had justbefore put off from the shore. She breasted the waves bravely. Wasshe, though, coming towards us? We could not have been seen so far off. Still on she came, the wind allowing her to be close-hauled to steertowards the rock. The tide meantime was rapidly rising. If she did notreach us soon, we knew too well that the sea would come foaming over therock and carry us away. 

"I stood up and waved our flag. Still the boat stood on; the spray wasbeating in heavy showers over her, and it was as much as she could do tolook up to her canvas. Sometimes as I watched her I feared that thebrave fellows who were coming to our rescue would share the fate whichwas likely to befall us. She neared the rock. I tried to cheer up yourfather. 

"`In five minutes we shall be safe on board, Michael, ' I said. 

"`Much may happen in five minutes, Paul; but you will not forget my Maryand little boy, ' he answered. 

"`No fear of that, ' I said; `but you will be at home to look after themyourself. '

"I tried to cheer as the boat came close to the rock, but my voicefailed me. 

"The sails were lowered and she pulled in. A rope was hove, and Icaught it. I was about to make it fast round your father. 

"`You go first, Paul, ' he said. `If you reach the boat I will try tofollow, but there is no use for me to try now; I should be drownedbefore I got half way. '

"Still I tried to secure the rope round him, but he resisted all myefforts. At last I saw that I must go, or we should both be lost, and Ihoped to get the boat in nearer and to return with a second rope to helphim. 

"I made the rope fast round my waist and plunged in. I had hard work toreach the boat; I did not know how weak I was. At last I was hauled onboard, and was singing out for a rope, when the people in the boatuttered a cry, and looking up I saw a huge sea come rolling along. Overthe rock it swept, taking off your poor father. I leapt overboard withthe rope still round my waist, in the hopes of catching him, but in amoment he was hidden from my sight, and, more dead than alive, I wasagain hauled on board. 

"The crew of the boat pulled away from the rock; they knew that allhopes of saving my friend were gone. Sail was made, and we stood forthe shore. 

"The people at the village attended me kindly, but many days passedbefore I was able to move. 

"As soon as I had got strength enough, with a sad heart I set outhomewards. How could I face your poor mother, and tell her that herhusband was gone? I would send my own dear wife, I thought, to breakthe news to her. 

"As I reached my own door I heard a child's cry; it was that of mylittle Nelly, and granny's voice trying to soothe her. 

"I peeped in at the window. There sat granny, with the child on herknee, but my wife was not there. She has gone to market, I thought. Still my heart sank within me. I gained courage to go in. 

"`Where is Nelly?' I asked, as granny, with the baby in her arms, roseto meet me. 

"`Here is the only Nelly you have got, my poor Paul, ' she said, givingme the child. 

"I felt as if my heart would break. I could not bring myself to ask howor when my wife had died. Granny told me, however, for she knew it mustbe told, and the sooner it was over the better. She had been taken witha fever soon after I had left home. 

"It was long before I recovered myself. 

"`I must go and tell the sad news I bring to poor Mary, ' I said. 

"Granny shook her head. 

"`She is very bad, it will go well-nigh to kill her outright, ' sheobserved. 

"I would have got granny to go, but I wanted to tell your poor mother ofmy promise to your father, and, though it made my heartache, Idetermined to go myself. 

"I found her, with you by her side. 

"`Here is father, ' you cried out, but your mother looked up, and seemedto know in a moment what had happened. 

"`Where is Michael?' she asked. 

"`You know, Mary, your husband and I promised to look after each other'schildren, if one was taken and the other left; and I mean to keep mypromise to look after you and your little boy. '

"Your mother knew, by what I said, that your father was gone. 

"`God's will be done, ' she murmured; `He knows what is best--I hope soonto be with him. '

"Before the month was out we carried your poor mother to her grave, andI took you to live with granny and Nelly. 

"There, Michael, you know all I can tell you about yourself. I have hadhard times now and then, but I have done my duty to you; and I sayagain, Michael, you have always been a good and dutiful boy, and not afault have I had to find with you. "

"Thank you, father, for saying that; and you will still let me call youfather, for I cannot bring myself to believe that I am not really yourson. "

"That I will, Michael; a son you have always been to me, and my son Iwish you to remain. And, Michael, as I have watched over you, so I wantyou to watch over my little Nelly. Should I be called away, be abrother and true friend to her, for I know not to what dangers she maybe exposed. Granny is old, and her years on earth may be few, and whenshe is gone, Michael, Nelly will have no one to look to but you. Shehas no kith nor kin, that I know of, able or willing to take care ofher. Her mother's brother and only sister went to Australia years ago, and no news has ever come of them since, and my brothers found theirgraves in the deep sea, so that Nelly will be alone in the world. Thatis the only thing that troubles me, and often makes me feel sad when weare away at night, and the wind blows strong and the sea runs high, andI think of the many I have known who have lost their lives in stouterboats than mine. But God is merciful; He has promised to take care ofthe widow and orphan, and He will keep His word. I know that, and so Iagain look up and try to drive all mistrustful thoughts of His goodnessfrom my mind. "

"Father, while I have life I will take care of Nelly, and pray for her, and, if needs be, fight for her, " exclaimed Michael. 

He spoke earnestly and with all sincerity, for he intended, God willing, to keep his word. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

The fleet of fishing-boats as they approached the coast steered indifferent directions, some keeping towards Kynance and Landewednach, while Paul Trefusis shaped his course for Mullyan Cove, towards thenorth, passing close round the lofty Gull Rock, which stands in solitarygrandeur far away from the shore, braving the fierce waves as they rollin from the broad Atlantic. 

Asparagus Island and Lion Rock opened out to view, while the red andgreen sides of the precipitous serpentine cliffs could now bedistinguished, assuming various fantastic shapes: one shaped into acomplete arch, another the form of a gigantic steeple, with severalcaves penetrating deep into the cliff, on a level with the narrow beltof yellow sand. 

Young Michael, though accustomed from his childhood to the wild andromantic scenery, had never passed that way without looking at it withan eye of interest, and wondering how those cliffs and rocks came toassume the curious forms they wore. 

The little "Wild Duck, " for that was the name Paul Trefusis had givenhis boat, continued her course, flying before the fast increasing galeclose inshore, to avoid the strong tide which swept away to thesouthward, till, rounding a point, she entered the mouth of a narrowinlet which afforded shelter to a few boats and small craft. It was awild, almost savage-looking place, though extremely picturesque. Oneither side were rugged and broken cliffs, in some parts rising sheerout of the water to the gorse-covered downs above, in others broken interraces and ledges, affording space for a few fishermen's cottages andhuts, which were seen perched here and there, looking down on thetranquil water of the harbour. 

The inlet made a sharp bend a short distance from its mouth, so that, asPaul's boat proceeded upwards, the view of the sea being completely shutout, it bore the appearance of a lake. At the further end a stream ofwater came rushing down over the summit of the cliffs, dashing fromledge to ledge, now breaking into masses of foam, now descendingperpendicularly many feet, now running along a rapid incline, andserving to turn a small flour-mill built a short way up on the side ofthe cliff above the harbour. 

Steep as were the cliffs, a zigzag road had been cut in them, leadingfrom the downs above almost to the mouth of the harbour, where a rockwhich rose directly out of the water formed a natural quay, on which thefishing-boats could land their cargoes. Beyond this the road was roughand steep, and fitted only for people on foot, or donkeys with theirpanniers, to go up and down. Art had done little to the place. 

The little "Wild Duck, " a few moments before tossed and tumbled by theangry seas, now glided smoothly along for a few hundred yards, when thesails were lowered, and she floated up to a dock between two rocks. Hence, a rough pathway led from one of the cottages perched on the sideof the cliff. At a distance it could scarcely have been distinguishedfrom the cliff itself. Its walls were composed of large blocks ofunhewn serpentine, masses of clay filling up the interstices, while itwas roofed with a thick dark thatch, tightly fastened down with ropes, and still further secured by slabs of stone to prevent its being carriedaway by the fierce blasts which are wont to sweep up and down the ravinein winter. 

There was space enough on either side of the cottage for a small garden, which appeared to be carefully cultivated, and was enclosed by a stonewall. At the upper part of the pathway a flight of steps, roughly hewnin the rock, led to the cottage door. 

The door opened as soon as Paul's boat rounded the point, and a younggirl with a small creel or fish basket at her back was seen lightlytripping down the pathway, followed by an old woman, who, though shesupported her steps with a staff, also carried a creel of the ordinarysize. She wore a large broad-brimmed black hat, and a gaily-colouredcalico jacket over her winsey skirt; an apron, and shoes with metalbuckles, completing the ordinary costume of a fish-wife of thatdistrict. Little Nelly was dressed very like her grandmother, exceptthat her feet were bare, and that she had a necklace of small shellsround her throat. Her face was pretty and intelligent, her well-brownedcheeks glowed with the hue of health, her eyes were large and grey, andher black hair, drawn up off her forehead, hung in neat plaits tied withribbons behind her back. Nelly Trefusis was indeed a good specimen of ayoung fisher-girl. 

She tripped lightly down the pathway, springing to the top of theoutermost rock just before her father's boat glided by it, and in aninstant stepping nimbly on board, she threw herself into his arms andbestowed a kiss on his weather-beaten brow. 

Michael had leaped on shore to fend off the boat, so that he lost thegreeting she would have given him. 

"You have had a good haul with the nets to-night, father, " she said, looking into the baskets; "Granny and I can scarce carry half of them tomarket, and unless Abel Mawgan the hawker comes in time to buy them, youand Michael will have work to do to salt them down. "

"It is well that we should have had a good haul, Nelly, for dirtyweather is coming on, and it may be many a day before we are able tocast our nets again, " answered Paul, looking up affectionately at hischild, while he began with a well-practised hand to stow the boat'ssail. 

Nelly meantime was filling her creel with fish, that she might lessenthe weight of the baskets which her father and Michael had to lift onshore. As soon as it was full she stepped back on the rock, giving akiss to Michael as she passed him. 

The baskets were soon landed, and the creel being filled, she and Nellyascended the hill, followed by Paul and Michael, who, carrying thebaskets between them, brought up the remainder of the fish. 

Breakfast, welcome to those who had been toiling all night, had beenplaced ready on the table, and leaving Paul and his boy to discuss it, Polly Lanreath, as the old dame was generally called, and her littlegranddaughter, set off on their long journey over the downs to disposeof their fish at Helston, or at the villages and the few gentlemen'shouses they passed on their way. It was a long distance for the oldwoman and girl to go, but they went willingly whenever fish had beencaught, for they depended on its sale for their livelihood, and neitherPaul nor Michael could have undertaken the duty, nor would they havesold the fish so well as the dame and Nelly, who were welcomed wheneverthey appeared. Their customers knew that they could depend on theirword when they mentioned the very hour when the fish were landed. 

The old dame's tongue wagged cheerfully as she walked along with Nellyby her side, and she often beguiled the way with tales and anecdotes ofbygone days, and ancient Cornish legends which few but herselfremembered. Nelly listened with eager ears, and stored away in hermemory all she heard, and often when they got back in the evening shewould beg her granny to recount again for the benefit of her father andMichael the stories she had told in the morning. 

She had a cheerful greeting, too, for all she met; for some she had aquiet joke; for the giddy and careless a word of warning, which camewith good effect from one whom all respected. At the cottages of thepoor she was always a welcome visitor, while at the houses of the morewealthy she was treated with courtesy and kindness; and many a housewifewho might have been doubtful about buying fish that day, when the dameand her granddaughter arrived, made up her mind to assist in lighteningNelly's creel by selecting some of its contents. 

The dame, as her own load decreased, would always insist on taking someof her granddaughter's, deeming that the little maiden had enough to doto trot on so many miles by her side, without having to carry a burdenon her back in addition. Nelly would declare that she did not feel theweight, but the sturdy old dame generally gained her point, though shemight consent to replenish Nelly's basket before entering the town, forsome of their customers preferred the fish which the bright littledamsel offered them for sale to those in her grandmother's creel. 

Thus, though their daily toil was severe, and carried on under summer'ssun, or autumn's gales, and winter's rain and sleet, they themselveswere ever cheerful and contented, and seldom failed to return home withempty creels and well-filled purses. 

Paul Trefusis might thus have been able to lay by a store for the timewhen the dame could no longer trudge over the country as she hadhitherto done, and he unable to put off with nets or lines to catchfish; but often for weeks together the gales of that stormy coastprevented him from venturing to sea, and the vegetables and potatoesproduced in his garden, and the few fish he and Michael could catch inthe harbour, were insufficient to support their little household, sothat at the end of each year Paul found himself no richer than at thebeginning. 

While Nelly and her grandmother and the other women of the village wereemployed in selling the fish, the men had plenty of occupation duringthe day in drying and mending their nets, and repairing their boats, while some time was required to obtain the necessary sleep of whichtheir nightly toil had deprived them. Those toilers of the sea wereseldom idle. When bad weather prevented them from going far from thecoast, they fished with lines, or laid down their lobster-pots among therocks close inshore, while occasionally a few fish were to be caught inthe waters of their little harbour. Most of them also cultivatedpatches of ground on the sides of the valley which opened out at thefurther end of the gorge, but, except potatoes, their fields affordedbut precarious crops. 

Paul and Michael had performed most of their destined task: the net hadbeen spread along the rocks to dry, and two or three rents, caused bythe fisherman's foes, some huge conger or cod-fish, had been repaired. A portion of their fish had been sold to Abel Mawgan, and the remainderhad been salted for their own use, when Paul, who had been going abouthis work with less than his usual spirit, complained of pains in hisback and limbs. Leaving Michael to clean out the boat and moor her, andto bring up the oars and other gear, he went into the cottage to liedown and rest. 

Little perhaps did the strong and hardy fisherman suppose, as he threwhimself on his bunk in the little chamber where he and Michael slept, that he should never again rise, and that his last trip on the salt seahad been taken--that for the last time he had hauled his nets, that hislife's work was done. Yet he might have had some presentiment of whatwas going to happen as he sailed homewards that morning, when heresolved to tell Michael about his parents, and gave him the account ofhis father's death which has been described. 

The young fisher boy went on board the "Wild Duck, " and was busilyemployed in cleaning her out, thinking over what he had heard in themorning. Whilst thus engaged, he saw a small boat coming down from thehead of the harbour towards him, pulled by a lad somewhat older thanhimself. 

"There is Eban Cowan, the miller's son. I suppose he is coming here. Iwonder what he wants?" he thought. "The `Polly' was out last night, andgot a good haul, so it cannot be for fish. "

Michael was right in supposing that Eban Cowan was coming to theirlanding-place. The lad in the punt pulled up alongside the "Wild Duck. "

"How fares it with you, Michael?" he said, putting out his hand. "Youdid well this morning, I suspect, like most of us. Did Abel Mawgan buyall your `catch'? He took the whole of ours. "

"No, granny and Nelly started off to Helston with their creels full, asthey can get a much better price than Mawgan will give, " answeredMichael. 

"I am sorry that Nelly is away, for I have brought her some shells Ipromised her a month ago. But as I have nothing to do, I will bide withyou till she comes back. "

"She and granny won't be back till late, I am afraid, and you lose yourtime staying here, " said Michael. 

"Never mind, I will lend you a hand, " said Eban, making his punt fast, and stepping on board the "Wild Duck. "

He was a fine, handsome, broad-shouldered lad, with dark eyes and hair, and with a complexion more like that of an inhabitant of the south thanof an English boy. 

He took up a mop as he spoke, whisking up the bits of seaweed andfish-scales which covered the bottom of the boat. 

"Thank you, " said Michael; "I won't ask you to stop, for I must go andturn in and get some sleep. Father does not seem very well, and I shallhave more work in the evening. "

"What is the matter with Uncle Paul?" asked Eban. 

Michael told him that he had been complaining since the morning, but hehoped the night's rest would set him to rights. 

"You won't want to go to sea to-night. It's blowing hard outside, andlikely to come on worse, " observed Eban. 

Though he called Paul "uncle, " there was no relationship. He merelyused the term of respect common in Cornwall when a younger speaks of anolder man. 

Eban, however, did not take Michael's hint, but continued working awayin the boat till she was completely put to rights. 

"Now, " he said, "I will help you up with the oars and sails. You havemore than enough to do, it seems to me, for a small fellow like you. "

"I am able to do it, " answered Michael; "and I am thankful that I can. "

"You live hard, though, and your father grows no richer, " observed Eban. "If he did as others do, and as my father has advised him many a time, he would be a richer man, and you and your sister and Aunt Lanreathwould not have to toil early and late, and wear the life out of you asyou do. I hope you will be wiser. "

"I know my father is right, whatever he does, and I hope to follow hisexample, " answered Michael, unstepping the mast, which he let fall onhis shoulder preparatory to carrying it up to the shed. 

"I was going to take that up, " said Eban; "it is too heavy for you byhalf. "

"It is my duty, thank you, " said Michael, somewhat coldly, stepping onshore with his burden. 

Slight as he looked, he carried the heavy spar up the pathway anddeposited it against the side of the house. He was returning for theremainder of the boat's gear, when he met Eban with it on his shoulders. 

"Thank you, " he said; "but I don't want to give you my work to do. "

"It's no labour to me, " answered Eban. "Just do you go and turn in, andI will moor the boat and make a new set of `tholes' for you. "

Again Michael begged that his friend would not trouble himself, adding--

"If you have brought the shells for Nelly and will leave them with me, Iwill give them to her when she comes home. "

Nothing he could say, however, would induce Eban to go away. The latterhad made up his mind to remain till Nelly's return. 

Still Michael was not to be turned from his purpose of doing his ownwork, though he could not prevent Eban from assisting him; and not tillthe boat was moored, and her gear deposited in the shed, would heconsent to enter the cottage and seek the rest he required. 

Meantime Eban, returning to his punt, shaped out a set of new tholes ashe proposed, and then set off up the hill, hoping to meet Nelly and hergrandmother. 

He must have found them, for after some time he again came down the hillin their company, talking gaily, now to one, now to the other. He wasevidently a favourite with the old woman. 

Nelly thanked him with a sweet smile for the shells, which he hadcollected in some of the sandy little bays along the coast, whichneither she nor Michael had ever been able to visit. 

She was about to invite him into, the cottage, when Michael appeared atthe door, saying, with a sad face--

"O granny! I am so thankful you are come; father seems very bad, andgroans terribly. I never before saw him in such a way, and have notknown what to do. "

Nelly on this darted in, and was soon by Paul's bedside, followed by hergrandmother. 

Eban lingered about outside waiting. Michael at length came out to himagain. 

"There is no use waiting, " he said; and Eban, reluctantly going down tohis boat, pulled away up the harbour. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

Paul continued to suffer much during the evening; still he would nothave the doctor sent for. "I shall get better maybe soon, if it's God'swill, though such pains are new to me, " he said, groaning as he spoke. 

The storm which had been threatening now burst with unusual strength. Michael, with the assistance of Nelly and her grandmother, got in thenets in time. 

All hope of doing anything on the water for that night, at all events, must be abandoned; the weather was even too bad to allow Michael to fishin the harbour. 

Little Nelly's young heart was deeply grieved as she heard her fathergroan with pain--he who had never had a day's illness that she couldrecollect. Nothing the dame could think of relieved him. 

The howling of the wind, the roaring of the waves as they dashed againstthe rock-bound coast, the pattering of the rain, and ever and anon theloud claps of thunder which echoed among the cliffs, made Nelly's heartsink within her. Often it seemed as if the very roof of the cottagewould be blown off. Still she was thankful that her father and Michaelwere inside instead of buffeting the foaming waves out at sea. 

If careful tending could have done Paul good he would soon have gotwell. The old dame seemed to require no sleep, and she would scarcelylet either of her grandchildren take her place even for a few minutes. Though she generally went marketing, rather than leave her charge shesent Michael and Nelly to buy bread and other necessaries at the nearestvillage, which was, however, at some distance. 

The rain had ceased, but the wind blew strong over the wild moor. 

"I am afraid father is going to be very ill, " observed Michael. "Heseemed to think something was going to happen to him when he told mewhat I did not know before about myself. Have you heard anything aboutit, Nelly?"

"What is it?" asked Nelly; "till you tell me I cannot say. "

"You've always thought that I was your brother, Nelly, haven't you?"

"As to that, I have always loved you as a brother, and whether one orno, that should not make you unhappy. Has father said anything to youabout it?"

"Yes. He said that I was not your brother; and he has told me all aboutmy father and mother: how my father was drowned, and my mother died of abroken heart. I could well-nigh have cried when I heard the tale. "

Nelly looked up into Michael's face. 

"It's no news to me, " she said. "Granny told me of it some time ago, but I begged her not to let you find it out lest it should make youunhappy, and you should fancy we were not going to love you as much aswe have always done. But, Michael, don't go and fancy that; though youare not my brother, I will love you as much as ever, as long as youlive: for, except father and granny, I have no friend but you in theworld. "

"I will be your brother and your true friend as long as I live, Nelly, "responded Michael; "still I would rather have thought myself to be yourbrother, that I might have a better right to work for you, and fight foryou too, if needs be. "

"You will do that, I know, Michael, " said Nelly, "whatever may happen. "

Michael felt that he should be everything that was bad if he did not, though it did not occur to him to make any great promises of what hewould do. 

They went on talking cheerfully and happily together, for though Nellywas anxious about her father, she did not yet understand how ill he was. 

They procured the articles for which they had been sent, and, laden withthem, returned homewards. They were making their way along one of thehedges which divide the fields in that part of Cornwall--not composed ofbrambles but of solid rock, and so broad that two people can walkabreast without fear of tumbling off--and were yet some distance fromthe edge of the ravine down which they had to go to their home, whenthey saw Eban Cowan coming towards them. 

"I wish he had gone some other way, " said Nelly. "He is very kindbringing me shells and other things, but, Michael, I do not like him. Ido not know what it is, but there is something in the tone of his voice;it's not truthful like yours and father's. "

"I never thought about that. He is a bold-hearted, good-naturedfellow, " observed Michael. "He has always been inclined to like us, andshown a wish to be friendly. "

"I don't want to make him suppose that we are not friendly, " said Nelly;"only still--"

She was unable to finish the sentence, as the subject of theirconversation had got close up to them. 

"Good-day, Nelly; good-day, Michael, " he said, putting out his hand. "You have got heavy loads; let me carry yours, Nelly. "

She, however, declined his assistance. 

"It is lighter than you suppose, and I can carry it well, " she answered. 

He looked somewhat angry and then walked on, Michael having to give wayto let him pass. Instead, however, of doing so, he turned roundsuddenly and kept alongside Nelly, compelling Michael in consequence towalk behind them. 

"I went to ask after your father, Nelly, " he said, "and, hearing thatyou were away, came on to meet you. I am sorry to find he is nobetter. "

"Thank you, " said Nelly; "father is very ill, I fear; but God ismerciful, and will take care of him and make him well if He thinks fit. "

Eban made no reply to this remark. He was not accustomed in his familyto hear God spoken of except when that holy name was profaned by beingjoined to a curse. 

"You had better let me take your creel, Nelly; it will be nothing tome. "

"It is nothing to me either, " answered Nelly, laughing. "I undertook tobring home the things, and I do not wish anybody else to do my work. "

Still Eban persisted in his offers; she as constantly refusing, tillthey reached the top of the pathway. 

"There, " she said, "I have only to go down hill now, so you need not beafraid the load will break my back. Good-bye, Eban, you will be wantedat home I dare say. "

Eban looked disconcerted; he appeared to have intended to accompany herdown the hill, but he had sense enough to see that she did not wish himto do so. He stopped short, therefore. 

"Good-bye, Eban, " said Michael, as he passed him; "Nelly and I must gethome as fast as we can to help granny nurse father. "

"That's the work you are most fitted for, " muttered Eban, as Michaelwent on. "If it was not for Nelly I should soon quarrel with thatfellow. He is always talking about his duty, and fearing God, and suchlike things. If he had more spirit he would not hold back as he doesfrom joining us. However, I will win him over some day when he isolder, and it is not so easy to make a livelihood with his nets andlines alone as he supposes. "

Eban remained on the top of the hill watching his young acquaintances asthey descended the steep path, and then made his way homewards. 

When Nelly and Michael arrived at the cottage the dame told them, totheir sorrow, that their father was not better but rather worse. Hestill, however, forbad her sending for the doctor. 

Day after day he continued much in the same state, though he endeavouredto encourage them with the hopes that he should get well at last. 

The weather continued so bad all this time that Michael could not getout in the boat to fish with lines or lay down his lobster-pots. He andNelly might have lost spirit had not their granny kept up hers andcheered them. 

"We must expect bad times, my children, in this world, " she said. "Thesun does not always shine, but when clouds cover the sky we know theywill blow away at last and we shall have fine days again. I have hadmany trials in my life, but here I am as well and hardy as ever. Wecannot tell why some are spared and some are taken away. It is God'swill, that's all we know. It was His will to take your parents, Michael, but He may think fit to let you live to a green old age. Iknew your father and mother, and your grandmother too. Your grandmotherhad her trials, and heavy ones they were. I remember her a pretty, bright young woman as I ever saw. She lived in a gentleman's house as asort of nurse or governess, where all were very fond of her, and shemight have lived on in the house to the end of her days; but she wascourted by a fine-looking fellow, who passed as the captain of amerchant vessel. A captain he was, though not of an honest trader, ashe pretended, but of a smuggling craft, of which there were not a few inthose days off this coast. The match was thought a good one for NancyTrewinham when she married Captain Brewhard. They lived in good styleand she was made much of, and looked upon as a lady, but before long shefound out her husband's calling, and right-thinking and good as she wasshe could not enjoy her riches. She tried to persuade her husband toabandon his calling, but he laughed at her, and told her that if it wasnot for that he should be a beggar. 

"He moved away from Penzance, where he had a house, and after going totwo or three other places, came to live near here. They had at thistime two children, a fine lad of fifteen or sixteen years old, and yourmother Judith. 

"The captain was constantly away from home, and, to the grief of hiswife, insisted on taking his boy with him. She well knew the hazardouswork he was engaged in; so did most of the people on the coast, thoughhe still passed where he lived for the master of a regular merchantman. 

"There are some I have known engaged in smuggling for years, who havedied quietly in their beds, but many, too, have been drowned at sea orkilled in action with the king's cruisers, or shot landing their goods. 

"There used to be some desperate work going on along this coast in myyounger days. 

"At last the captain, taking his boy with him, went away in his lugger, the `Lively Nancy, ' over to France. She was a fine craft, carryingeight guns, and a crew of thirty men or more. The king's cruisers hadlong been on the watch for her. As you know, smugglers always choose adark and stormy night for running their cargoes. There was a cutter atthe time off the coast commanded by an officer who had made up his mindto take the `Lively Nancy, ' let her fight ever so desperately. Hercaptain laughed at his threats, and declared that he would send her tothe bottom first. 

"I lived at that time with my husband and Nelly's mother, our onlychild, at Landewednach. It was blowing hard from the south-west with acloudy sky, when just before daybreak a sound of firing at sea washeard. There were few people in the village who did not turn out to tryand discover what was going on. The morning was dark, but we saw theflashes of guns to the westward, and my husband and others made out thatthere were two vessels engaged standing away towards Mount's Bay. Weall guessed truly that one was the `Lively Nancy, ' and the other theking's cutter. 

"Gradually the sounds of the guns grew less and the flashes seemedfurther off. After some time, however, they again drew near. It wasevident that the cutter had attacked the lugger, which was probablyendeavouring to get away out to sea or to round the Lizard, when, with aflowing sheet before the wind, she would have a better chance of escape. 

"Just then daylight broke, and we could distinguish both the vesselsclose-hauled, the lugger to leeward trying to weather on the cutter, which was close to her on her quarter, both carrying as much sail asthey could stagger under. They kept firing as fast as the guns could beloaded, each trying to knock away her opponent's spars, so that moredamage was done to the rigging than to the crews of the vessels. 

"The chief object of the smugglers was to escape, and this they hoped todo if they could bring down the cutter's mainsail. The king's officerknew that he should have the smugglers safe enough if he could but makethem strike; this, however, knowing that they all fought with ropesround their necks, they had no thoughts of doing. 

"Though the lugger stood on bravely, we could see that she was beingjammed down gradually towards the shore. My good man cried out, `thather fore-tack was shot away and it would now go hard with her. '

"The smugglers, however, in spite of the fire to which they wereexposed, got it hauled down. The cutter was thereby enabled to range upalongside. 

"By this time the two vessels got almost abreast of the point, but therewere the Stags to be weathered. If the lugger could do that she mightthen keep away. There seemed a good chance that she would do it, andmany hoped she would, for their hearts were with her rather than withthe king's cruiser. 

"She was not a quarter of a mile from the Stags when down came hermainmast. It must have knocked over the man at the helm and injuredothers standing aft, for her head fell off and she ran on directly forthe rocks. Still her crew did their best to save her. The wreck wascleared away, and once more she stood up as close as she could now bekept to the wind. One of her guns only was fired, for the crew hadsomewhat else to do just then. The cutter no longer kept as close toher as before; well did her commander know the danger of standing toonear those terrible rocks, over which the sea was breaking in masses offoam. 

"There seemed a chance that the lugger might still scrape clear of therocks; if not, in a few moments she must be dashed to pieces and everysoul on board perish. 

"I could not help thinking of the poor lad whom his father had takenwith him in spite of his mother's tears and entreaties. It must havebeen a terrible thought for the captain that he had thus brought hisyoung son to an untimely end. For that reason I would have given muchto see the lugger escape, but it was not to be. 

"The seas came rolling in more heavily than before. A fierce blaststruck her, and in another instant, covered with a shroud of foam, shewas dashed against the wild rocks, and when we looked again she seemedto have melted away--not a plank of her still holding together. 

"The cutter herself had but just weathered the rocks, and though shestood to leeward of them on the chance of picking up any of the luggerscrew who might have escaped, not one was found. 

"Such was the end of the `Lively Nancy, ' and your bold grandfather. Your poor grandmother never lifted up her head after she heard of whathad happened. Still she struggled on for the sake of her littledaughter, but by degrees all the money she possessed was spent. She atonce moved into a small cottage, and then at last she and her youngdaughter found shelter in a single room. After this she did not livelong, and your poor mother was left destitute. It was then your fathermet her, and though she had more education than he had, and rememberedwell the comfort she had once enjoyed, she consented to become his wife. He did his best for her, for he was a true-hearted, honest man, but shewas ill fitted for the rough life a fisherman's wife has to lead, andwhen the news of her husband's death reached her she laid down and died. 

"There, Michael, now you have learned all you are ever likely to know ofyour family, for no one can tell you more about them than I can. 

"You see you cannot count upon many friends in the world except thoseyou make yourself. But there is one Friend you have Who will never, ifyou trust to Him, leave or forsake you. He is truer than all earthlyfriends, and Paul Trefusis has acted a father's part in bringing you upto fear and honour Him. "

"I do trust God, for it is He you speak of, granny, " said Michael, "andI will try to love and obey Him as long as I live. He did what He knewto be best when He took my poor father away, and gave me such a good oneas he who lies sick in there. I wish, granny, that you could have givenme a better account of my grandfather. "

"I thought it best that you should know the truth, Michael, and as youcannot be called to account for what he was, you need not troubleyourself about that matter. Your grandmother was an excellent woman, and I have a notion that she was of gentle blood, so it is well youshould remember her name, and you may some day hear of her kith and kin:not that you are ever likely to gain anything by that; still it's aset-off against what your grandfather was, though people hereabouts willnever throw that in your face. "

"I should care little for what they may say, " answered Michael; "all Iwish is to grow into a strong man to be able to work for you and Nellyand poor father, if he does not gain his strength. I will do my bestnow, and when the pilchard season comes on I hope, if I can get DavidTreloar or another hand in the boat, to do still better. "

CHAPTER FOUR. 

Day after day Paul Trefusis lay on his sick-bed. A doctor was sent for, but his report was unfavourable. Nelly asked him, with trembling lips, whether he thought her father would ever get well. 

"You must not depend too much on that, my little maiden, " he answered;"but I hope your brother, who seems an industrious lad, and thatwonderful old woman, your grandmother, will help you to keep the potboiling in the house, and I dare say you will find friends who willassist you when you require it. Good-bye; I'll come and see your fatheragain soon; but all I can do is to relieve his pain. "

Dame Lanreath and Michael did, indeed, do their best to keep the potboiling: early and late Michael was at work, either digging in thegarden, fishing in the harbour, or, when the weather would allow him, going with the boat outside. Young as he was, he was well able, underordinary circumstances, to manage her by himself, though, of course, single-handed, he could not use the nets. 

Though he toiled very hard, he could, however, obtain but a scantysupply of fish. When he obtained more than were required for homeconsumption, the dame would set off to dispose of them; but she had nolonger the companionship of Nelly, who remained to watch over her poorfather. 

When Paul had strength sufficient to speak, which he had not always, hewould give his daughter good advice, and warn her of the dangers towhich she would be exposed in the world. 

"Nelly, " he said, "do not trust a person with a soft-speaking tongue, merely because he is soft-speaking; or one with good looks, merelybecause he has good looks. Learn his character first--how he spends histime, how he speaks about other people, and, more than all, how hespeaks about God. Do not trust him because he says pleasant things toyou. There is Eban Cowan, for instance, a good-looking lad, withpleasant manners; but he comes of a bad stock, and is not brought up tofear God. It is wrong to speak ill of one's neighbours, so I have nottalked of what I know about his father and his father's companions; but, Nelly dear, I tell you not to trust him or them till you have good causeto do so. "

Nelly, like a wise girl, never forgot what her father said to her. 

After this Paul grew worse. Often, for days together, he was rackedwith pain, and could scarcely utter a word. Nelly tended him with themost loving care. It grieved her tender heart to see him suffer; butshe tried to conceal her sorrow, and he never uttered a word ofcomplaint. 

Michael had now become the main support of the family; for though Paulhad managed to keep out of debt and have a small supply of money inhand, yet that was gradually diminishing. 

"Never fear, Nelly, " said Michael, when she told him one day how littlethey had left; "we must hope for a good pilchard-fishing, and we canmanage to rub on till then. The nets are in good order, and I can getthe help I spoke of; so that I can take father's place, and we shallhave his share in the company's fishing. "

Michael alluded to a custom which prevails among the fishermen on thatcoast. A certain number, who possess boats and nets, form a company, and fish together when the pilchards visit their coast, dividingafterwards the amount they receive for the fish caught. 

"It is a long time to wait till then, " observed Nelly. 

"But on most days I can catch lobsters and crabs, and every time I havebeen out lately the fish come to my lines more readily than they used todo, " answered Michael. "Do not be cast down, Nelly dear, we have aFriend in heaven, as father says, Who will take care of us; let us trustHim. "

Time passed on. Paul Trefusis, instead of getting better, became worseand worse. His once strong, stout frame was now reduced to a mereskeleton. Still Nelly and Michael buoyed themselves up with the hopethat he would recover. Dame Lanreath knew too well that his days onearth were drawing to an end. 

Michael had become the mainstay of the family. Whenever a boat couldget outside, the "Wild Duck" was sure to be seen making her way towardsthe best fishing-ground. 

Paul, before he started each day, inquired which way the wind was, andwhat sea there was on, and advised him where to go. "Michael, " saidPaul, as the boy came one morning to wish him good-bye, "fare thee well, lad; don't forget the advice I have given thee, and look after littleNelly and her grandmother, and may God bless and prosper thee;" andtaking Michael's hand, Paul pressed it gently. He had no strength for afirm grasp now. 

Michael was struck by his manner. Had it not been necessary to catchsome fish he would not have left the cottage. 

Putting the boat's sail and other gear on board, he pulled down theharbour. He had to pull some little way out to sea. The wind wassetting on shore. He did not mind that, for he should sail back thefaster. The weather did not look as promising as he could have wished:dark clouds were gathering to the north-west and passing rapidly overthe sky. As he knew, should the wind stand, he could easily regain theharbour, he went rather more to the southward than he otherwise wouldhave done, to a good spot, where he had often had a successful fishing. He had brought his dinner with him, as he intended to fish all day. Hislines were scarcely overboard before he got a bite, and he was sooncatching fish as fast as he could haul his lines on board. This put himin good spirits. 

"Granny will have her creel full to sell to-morrow, " he thought. "MaybeI shall get back in time for her to set off to-day. "

So eagerly occupied was he that he did not observe the change of theweather. The wind had veered round more to the northward. It was everyinstant blowing stronger and stronger, although, from its coming off theland, there was not much sea on. 

At last he had caught a good supply of fish. By waiting he might haveobtained many more, but he should then be too late for that day'smarket. Lifting his anchor, therefore, he got out his oars and began topull homewards. The wind was very strong, and he soon found that, withall his efforts, he could make no headway. The tide, too, had turned, and was against him, sweeping round in a strong current to thesouthward. In vain he pulled. Though putting all the strength hepossessed to his oars, still, as he looked at the shore, he was ratherlosing than gaining ground. He knew that the attempt to reach theharbour under sail would be hopeless; he should be sure to lose everytack he made. Already half a gale of wind was blowing, and the boat, with the little ballast there was in her, would scarcely look up even tothe closest reefed canvas. 

Again he dropped his anchor, intending to wait the turn of the tide, sorely regretting that he could not take the fish home in time forgranny to sell on that day. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dame Lanreath and Nelly had been anxiously expecting Michael's return, and the dame had got ready to set off as soon as he appeared with thefish they hoped he would catch. Still he did not come. 

Paul had more than once inquired for him. He told Nelly to go out andsee how the wind was, and whether there was much sea on. 

Nelly made her way under the cliffs to the nearest point whence shecould obtain a view of the mouth of the harbour and the sea beyond. Shelooked out eagerly for Michael's boat, hoping to discover her making herway towards the shore; but Nelly looked in vain. Already there was agood deal of sea on, and the wind, which had been blowing strong fromthe north-west, while she was standing there veered a point or two moreto the northward. 

"Where could Michael have gone?" She looked and looked till her eyesached, still she could not bring herself to go back without being ableto make some report about him. At last she determined to call at thecottage of Reuben Lanaherne, a friend of her father's, though a somewhatolder man. 

"What is it brings you here, my pretty maiden?" said Uncle Reuben, who, for a wonder, was at home, as Nelly, after gently knocking, lifted thelatch and entered a room with sanded floor and blue painted ceiling. 

"O Uncle Lanaherne, " she said, "can you tell me where you think Michaelhas gone? he ought to have been back long ago. "

"He would have been wiser not to have gone out at all with the weatherthreatening as it has been; but he is a handy lad in a boat, Nelly, andhe will find his way in as well as any one, so don't you be unhappyabout him, " was the answer. 

Still Reuben looked a little anxious, and putting on his hat, buttoningup his coat, and taking his glass under his arm, he accompanied Nelly tothe point. He took a steady survey round. 

"Michael's boat is nowhere near under sail, " he observed. "There seemsto me a boat, however, away to the southward, but, with the wind andtide as at present, she cannot be coming here. I wish I could make outmore to cheer you, Nelly. You must tell your father that; and he knowsif we can lend Michael a hand we will. How is he to-day?"

"He is very bad, Uncle Lanaherne, " said Nelly, with a sigh; "I fearsometimes that he will never go fishing again. "

"I am afraid not, Nelly, " observed the rough fisherman, putting his handon her head; "but you know you and your brother will always find afriend in Reuben Lanaherne. An honest man's children will never want, and if there ever was an honest man, your poor father is one. I willkeep a look-out for Michael, but do not be cast down, Nelly; we shallsee him before long. "

The fisherman spoke in a cheery tone, but still he could not helpfeeling more anxiety than he expressed for Michael. 

Every moment the wind was increasing, and the heavy seas which camerolling in showed that a gale had been blowing for some time outside. 

Nelly hastened back to tell her father what Uncle Lanaherne had said. 

When she got to his bedside she found that a great change had takenplace during her absence. Her father turned his dim eye towards her asshe entered, but had scarcely strength to speak, or beckon her with hishands. She bent over him. 

"Nelly dear, where is Michael?" he asked, "I want to bless him, he mustcome quickly, for I have not long to stay. "

"He has not come on shore yet, father, but Uncle Lanaherne is lookingout for him, " said Nelly. 

"I wanted to see him again, " whispered Paul. "It will be too late if hedoes not come now; so tell him, Nelly, that I do bless him, and I blessyou, Nelly, bless you, bless you;" and his voice became fainter. 

Nelly, seeing a change come over her father's features, cried out forher granny. Dame Lanreath hastened into the room. The old woman saw ata glance what had happened. Paul Trefusis was dead. 

Closing his eyes, she took her grandchild by the hand, and led her outof the room. 

Some time passed, however, before Nelly could realise what had happened. 

"Your father has gone, Nelly, but he has gone to heaven, and is happierfar than he ever was or ever could be down on earth even in the best oftimes. Bad times may be coming, and God in His love and mercy took himthat he might escape them. "

"But, then, why didn't God take us?" asked Nelly, looking up. "I wouldhave liked to die with him. Bad times will be as hard for us to bear asfor him. "

"God always does what is best, and He has a reason for keeping us onearth, " answered the dame. "He has kept me well-nigh fourscore years, and given me health and strength, and good courage to bear whatever Ihave had to bear, and He will give you strength, Nelly, according toyour need. "

"Ah, I was wicked to say what I did, " answered Nelly; "but I am sadabout father and you and myself, and very sad, too, about Michael. Hewill grieve so when he comes home and finds father gone, if he comes atall. And, O granny, I begin to fear that he won't come home! what hashappened to him I cannot tell; and if you had seen the heavy sea therewas rolling outside you would fear the worst. "

"Still, Nelly, we must trust in God; if He has taken Michael, He hasdone it for the best, not the worst, Nelly, " answered Dame Lanreath. "But when I say this, Nelly, I don't want to stop your tears, they aregiven in mercy to relieve your grief; but pray to God, Nelly, to helpus; He will do so--only trust Him. "

CHAPTER FIVE. 

The day was drawing to a close when the storm, which had beenthreatening all the morning on which Paul Trefusis died, swept fiercelyup the harbour, showing that the wind had again shifted to the westward. 

Poor Nelly, though cast down with grief at her father's death, could nothelp trembling as she thought of Michael, exposed as she knew he must beto its rage. Was he, too, to be taken away from them?

She was left much alone, as Dame Lanreath had been engaged, with theassistance of a neighbour, in the sad duty of laying out the dead man. Nelly several times had run out to look down the harbour, hoping againsthope that she might see Michael's boat sailing up it. 

At length, in spite of the gale, she made her way to Reuben Lanaherne'scottage. His wife and daughter were seated at their work, but he wasnot there. Agitated and breathless from encountering the fierce wind, she could scarcely speak as she entered. 

"Sit down, maiden; what ails thee?" said Dame Lanaherne, rising, andkindly placing her on a stool by her side. 

Nelly could only answer with sobs. 

Just then old Reuben himself entered, shaking the spray from his thickcoat. 

"How is thy father, Nelly?" he asked. 

"He has gone, " she answered, sobbing afresh. "And, O Uncle Reuben, haveyou seen Michael's boat? can you tell me where he is?"

"I have not forgotten him, Nelly, and have been along the shore as faras I could make my way on the chance that he might have missed theharbour, and had run for Kynance Cove, but not a sign of him or his boatcould I see. I wish I had better news for you, Nelly. And your goodfather gone too! Don't take on so--he is free from pain now--happy inheaven; and there is One above Who will look after Michael, though whathas become of him is more than I can tell you. "

The old fisherman's words brought little comfort to poor Nelly, thoughhe and his wife and daughter did their best to console her. Theypressed her to remain with them, but she would not be absent longer fromher granny, and, thanking them for their kindness, hurried homewards. 

The wind blew fiercely, but no rain had as yet fallen. 

Their neighbour, having rendered all the assistance required, had goneaway, and the old dame and her young grandchild sat together side byside in the outer room. They could talk only of Michael. The dame didnot dare to utter what she thought. His small boat might have beenswamped in the heavy sea, or he might have fallen overboard and beenunable to regain her; or, attempting to land on a rocky coast, she mighthave been dashed to pieces, and he swept off by the receding surf. Suchhad been the fate of many she had known. 

As each succeeding gust swept by, poor Nelly started and trembled inspite of her efforts to keep calm. 

At length down came the rain battering against the small panes of glass. 

At that instant there was a knocking at the door. 

"Can you give us shelter from the storm, good folks?" said a voice; and, the latch being lifted, an elderly gentleman, accompanied by two ladies, one of whom was young and the other more advanced in life, appeared atthe entrance. 

They evidently took it for granted that they should not be denied. 

"You are welcome, though you come to a house of mourning, " said DameLanreath, rising, while Nelly hastened to place stools for them to siton. 

"I am afraid, then, that we are intruders, " said the gentleman, "and wewould offer to go on, but my wife and daughter would be wet throughbefore we could reach any other shelter. "

"We would not turn any one away, especially you and Mistress Tremayne, "said the dame, looking at the elder lady. 

"What! do you know us?" asked the gentleman. 

"I know Mistress Tremayne and the young lady from her likeness to what Irecollect of her mother, " answered Dame Lanreath. "I seldom forget aperson I once knew, and she has often bought fish of me in days goneby. "

"And I, too, recollect you. If I mistake not you used to be prettywidely known as Polly Lanreath, " said the lady, looking at the oldfish-wife. 

"And so I am now, Mistress Tremayne, " answered the dame, "though notknown so far and wide as I once was. I can still walk my twenty milesa-day; but years grow on one; and when I see so many whom I have knownas children taken away, I cannot expect to remain hale and strong muchlonger. "

"You have altered but little since I knew you, " observed Mrs Tremayne, "and I hope that you may retain your health and strength for many yearsto come. "

"That's as God wills, " said the dame. "I pray it may be so for the sakeof my little Nelly here. "

"She is your grandchild, I suppose, " observed Mrs Tremayne. 

"Ay, and the only one I have got to live for now. Her father has justgone, and she and I are left alone. "

"O granny, but there is Michael; don't talk of him as gone, " exclaimedNelly. "He will come back, surely he will come back. "

This remark of Nelly's caused Mr and Mrs Tremayne to make furtherinquiries. 

They at first regretted that they had been compelled to take shelter inthe cottage, but as the dame continued talking, their interest in whatshe said increased. 

"It seemed strange, Mistress Tremayne, that you should have come here atthis moment, " she observed. "Our Michael is the grandson of one whomyou knew well in your childhood; she was Nancy Trewinham, who was nursein the family of your mother, Lady Saint Mabyn; and you, if I mistakenot, were old enough at the time to remember her. "

"Yes, indeed, I do perfectly well; and I have often heard my motherexpress her regret that so good and gentle a young woman should havemarried a man who, though apparently well-to-do in the world, was morethan suspected to be of indifferent character, " said the lady. "Wecould gain no intelligence of her after she left Penzance, though Iremember my father saying that he had no doubt a noted smuggler whosevessel was lost off this coast was the man she had married. Beinginterested in her family, he made inquiries, but could not ascertainwhether she had survived her unhappy husband or not. And have you, indeed, taken charge of her grandson in addition to those of your ownfamily whom you have had to support?"

"It was not I took charge of the boy, but my good son-in-law, who liesdead there, " said the dame. "He thought it but a slight thing, and onlydid what he knew others would do by him. "

"He deserved not the less credit, " said Mr Tremayne. "We shall, indeed, be anxious to hear that the boy has come to no harm, and I amsure that Mrs Tremayne will be glad to do anything in her power toassist you and him should he, as I hope, have escaped. We purposestaying at Landewednach for a few days to visit the scenery on thecoast, and will send down to inquire to-morrow. "

While Mr and Mrs Tremayne and the old dame had been talking, MissTremayne had beckoned to Nelly to come and sit by her, and, speaking ina kind and gentle voice, had tried to comfort the young girl. She, however, could only express her hope that Michael had by some means orother escaped. Though Nelly knew that that hope was vain, the sympathywhich was shown her soothed her sorrow more than the words which wereuttered. 

Sympathy, in truth, is the only balm that one human being can pour intothe wounded heart of another. Would that we could remember that in allour grief and sufferings we have One in heaven Who can sympathise withus as He did when He wept with the sorrowing family at Bethany. 

The rain ceased almost as suddenly as it had commenced, and as Mr andMrs Tremayne, who had left their carriage on the top of the hill, wereanxious to proceed on their journey, they bade Dame Lanreath and Nellygood-bye, again apologising for having intruded on them. 

"Don't talk of that please, Mistress Tremayne, " said the old dame. "Your visit has been a blessing to us, as it has taken us off our ownsad thoughts. Nelly already looks less cast down, from what the younglady has been saying to her, and though you can't bring the dead to lifewe feel your kindness. "

"You will let me make it rather more substantial, then, by acceptingthis trifle, which may be useful under the present circumstances, " saidthe gentleman, offering a couple of guineas. 

The old dame looked at them, a struggle seemed to be going on withinher. 

"I thank you kindly, sir, that I do, " she answered; "but since myearliest days I have gained my daily bread and never taken charity fromany one. "

"But you must not consider this as charity, dame, " observed MrsTremayne; "it is given to show our interest in your little granddaughterand in the boy whom your son-in-law and you have so generously protectedso many years. I should, indeed, feel bound to assist him, andtherefore on his account pray receive it and spend it as you mayrequire. "

The dame's scruples were at length overcome, and her guests, after shehad again expressed her feelings of gratitude, took their departure. 

They had scarcely gone when Eban Cowan appeared at the door. 

"I have just heard what has happened, and I could not let the day passwithout coming to tell you how sorry I am, " he said, as he entered. 

Nelly thanked him warmly. 

"Father has gone to heaven and is at rest, " she said, quietly. 

"I should think that you would rather have had him with you down onearth, " observed Eban, who little comprehended her feelings. 

"So I would, but it was God's will to take him, and he taught me to say, `Thy will be done;' and I can say that though I grieve for his loss, "answered Nelly. "But, O Eban, when you came I thought that you hadbrought some tidings of Michael. "

"No! Where is he? I did not know that he was not at home. "

Nelly then told Eban how Michael had gone away with the boat in themorning and had not returned. "I will go and search for him then, " hesaid. "He has run in somewhere, perhaps, along the coast. I wonder, when you spoke to Uncle Lanaherne, that he did not set off at once. ButI will go. I'll get father to send some men with me with ropes, and ifhe is alive and clinging to a rock, as he may be, we will bring himback. "

Nelly poured out her thanks to Eban, who, observing that there was notime to be lost, set off to carry out his proposal. 

Dame Lanreath had said but little. She shook her head when he had gone, as Nelly continued praising him. 

"He is brave and bold, Nelly, but that could be said of Captain Brewhardand many others I have known, who were bad husbands and false friends, and there is something about the lad I have never liked. He is inclinedto be friendly now; and as you grow up he will wish, maybe, to be morefriendly; but I warn you against him, Nelly dear. Though he speaks toyou ever go fair, don't trust him. "

"But I must be grateful to him as long as I live if he finds Michael, "answered Nelly, who thought her grandmother condemned Eban withoutsufficient cause. 

Had she known how he had often talked to Michael, she might have been ofa different opinion. 

The storm continued to blow as fiercely as ever, and the rain again camepelting down; ever and anon peals of thunder rattled and crashedoverhead, and flashes of lightning, seen more vividly through thethickening gloom, darted from the sky. 

Dame Lanreath and Nelly sat in their cottage by the dead--the old womancalm and unmoved, though Nelly, at each successive crash of thunder orflash of lightning, drew closer to her grandmother, feeling more securein the embrace of the only being on whom she had now to rely forprotection in the wide world. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

Young Michael sat all alone in his boat, tossed about by the foamingseas. His anchor held, so there was no fear of his drifting. But thatwas not the only danger to which he was exposed. At any moment a seamight break on board and wash him away, or swamp the boat. 

He looked round him, calmly considering what was best to be done. Nocoward fear troubled his mind, yet he clearly saw the various risks hemust run. He thought of heaving his ballast overboard and trying toride out the gale where he was, but then he must abandon all hope ofreaching the harbour by his own unaided efforts. He might lash himselfto a thwart, and thus escape being washed away; still the fierce wavesmight tear the boat herself to pieces, so that he quickly gave up thatidea. He was too far off to be seen from the shore, except perhaps bythe keen-sighted coast-guard men; but even if seen, what boat wouldventure out into the fast-rising sea to his rescue. He must, he felt, depend upon himself, with God's aid, for saving his life. 

Any longer delay would only increase his peril. The wind and tide wouldprevent him gaining any part of the coast to the northward. He wouldtherefore make sail and run for Landewednach, for not another spot wherehe had the slightest prospect of landing in safety was to be foundbetween the Gull Rock and the beach at that place. He very well knew, indeed, the danger he must encounter even there, but it was a choice ofevils. He quickly made up his mind. 

He at first set to work to bail out the boat, for already she hadshipped a good deal of water. He had plenty of sea room, so that hemight venture to lift his anchor. But it was no easy work, and the sea, which broke over the bows again and again, made him almost relinquishthe effort, and cut the cable instead. Still he knew the importance ofhaving his anchor ready to drop, should he be unable to beach the boaton his arrival at the spot he had selected, so again he tried, and up itcame. He quickly hauled it in, and running up his sail he sprang to thetiller, hauling aft his main-sheet. 

Away flew the boat amid the tumbling seas, which came rolling in fromthe westward. He held the sheet in his hand, for there was now as muchwind as the boat could look up to, and a sudden blast might at anymoment send her over. That, too, Michael knew right well. On she flewlike a sea-bird amid the foaming waves, now lifted to the summit of one, now dropping down into the hollow, each sea as it came hissing upthreatening to break on board; now he kept away to receive its force onhis quarter; now he again kept his course. 

The huge Gull Rock rose up under his lee, the breakers dashing furiouslyagainst its base; then Kynance Cove, with its fantastically-shapedcliffs, opened out, but the sea roared and foamed at their base, and nota spot of sand could he discover on which he could hope to beach hisboat, even should he pass through the raging surf unharmed. MeantalePoint, Pradanack, and the Soapy Rock appeared in succession, but allthreatened him alike with destruction should he venture near them. 

He came abreast of a little harbour, but he had never been in there, andnumerous rocks, some beneath the surface, others rising but just aboveit, lay off its entrance, and the risk of running for it he consideredwas too great to be encountered. Those on shore might have seen hisboat as she flew by, but, should they have done so, even the bravestmight have been unwilling to risk their lives on the chance ofovertaking her before she met that fate to which they might well havebelieved she was doomed. 

Michael cast but a glance or two to ascertain whether any one wascoming; he had little expectation of assistance, but still his couragedid not fail him. 

The rocks were passed; he could already distinguish over his bow thelighthouses on the summit of the Lizard Point. Again he kept away andneared the outer edge of a line of breakers which roared fiercely uponit. He must land there notwithstanding, or be lost, for he knew thathis boat could not live going through the race to the southward of theLizard. 

When off the Stags he could distinguish people moving along the shore. He had been seen by them he knew, and perhaps a boat might be launchedand come to his rescue. There was no time, however, for consideration. What he had to do must be promptly done. 

The water in the bay was somewhat smoother than it had hitherto been. In a moment his sail was lowered and his anchor let go. The rain camedown heavily. 

"The wind is falling, " he thought; "I will wait till the turn of thetide, when, perhaps, there will be less surf on. "

He could see the people on the shore watching him, but no attempt wasmade to launch a boat; indeed he knew that no boat could pass thatfoaming barrier in safety. He sat down with folded arms, waiting theprogress of events. His mind was occupied for a time rather with thoseat home than about himself; he thought of little Nelly and of DameLanreath, and of the kind friend of his youth who had, though he knew itnot at that time, left this world of toil and trouble. He had a simplefaith in the merits of One Who had died for him, and he had perfecttrust, not in his own honesty and uprightness, but in the merits andall-sufficient atonement of that loving Saviour Who died for him. Hecould therefore, young as he was, calmly contemplate the probability ofbeing unable after all to reach the shore. Still he would not allowhimself to dwell long on that matter. 

He was soon aroused indeed to exertion by finding the seas breaking intohis boat. He bailed away as fast as they came on board. But he sawthat he must abandon all hope of remaining where he was. Should he staymuch longer the boat might be swamped; the surf, too, might increase, and more effectually than at present bar his progress to the shore. Another huge sea rolling in half filled his boat. Undaunted, he bailedit out. A second of like size might sink her. 

Evening was coming on; he must dare the fearful passage through thebreakers, or perish where he was. He stood up, holding on to the mast, that he might survey the shore. He was abreast of the best place forlanding, although he was convinced there were rocks to the north andsouth of him, their black heads appearing every now and then amid thesnow-white foam. In a moment, should his boat touch them, they woulddash her to fragments. 

Promptly Michael made up his mind what to do. Hoisting his foresail hecarried the main-sheet aft, and felt that the tiller was securely fixed. Taking out his knife, he held it in his teeth--he had sharpened itafresh the previous evening. With one hand holding the main halyards, with a stroke he severed the cable, then as the boat paid off up wenthis mainsail and he sprang aft to the helm. The sheet was eased off. The hissing seas followed fast astern. In another minute he would beamong the raging breakers, and then safe on shore, or, what was tooprobable, whirled and tossed and tumbled over and over as he and thefragments of his boat were carried back in their cruel embrace. 

Mr and Mrs Tremayne and their daughter had reached the little hotel atthe Lizard Head, when they heard that a small boat had been seen in afearfully perilous position anchored at a short distance outside thebreakers. They hastened down to the beach, where some of thecoast-guard men and several other persons were collected. 

They made inquiries as to the probability of the boat reaching the shorein safety. 

"Not the slightest hope through such a surf as this, " was the answer. 

"Who is on board?" asked Mr Tremayne. 

"It seems to be a young lad, as far as we can make out, " said acoast-guard man. "His best chance is to hold on till low water, when, as there will be a pretty broad piece of sand, if the wind goes down, hemay happen to get in without being swamped. "

"But if the wind does not go down, and the weather still looksthreatening, what can he do?"

"His fate will be that of many another poor fellow, " said the man. "Heis a brave young chap, though, or he would not have brought up in theway he did. I have not once seen him waving his arms or seeming to becrying out for help, as most would be. "

"Can he be young Michael Penguyne, of whom we have just heard!"exclaimed Mrs Tremayne. "Oh, can nothing be done to save him?"

"Will none of you fine fellows launch a boat and go out and try andbring in the boy?" asked Mr Tremayne. "I will give twenty pounds tothe crew of the boat which brings him in. "

"I am sorry, sir, that I cannot allow my men to go out, " said theofficer of the coast-guard, who heard the offer made. "We should nothave waited for a reward if it could be done, but the best boat we havewould be swamped to a certainty, and the lives of all her crewsacrificed. I much regret being compelled to say this; there is not aman here who would not do his best to save the life of the lad if itwere possible. "

"Are none of the fishermen's boats better fitted for the purpose?" askedMr Tremayne. "I will give twenty-five pounds to the boat which savesthe lad. Surely if so small a boat as his can live, a largefishing-boat would run but comparatively little risk. "

The officer explained that the danger would be incurred in passingthrough the breakers, and that once outside, although the sea was veryheavy, a boat properly handled would keep afloat. 

"I have, " he added, "sent to a little harbour to the north of this, butthe boats there are small, and I doubt whether any of the fishermen willventure so near the breakers as that boat has brought up. I will, however, send again with your generous offer, though some time mustelapse before a boat can be got ready, even if a crew can be foundwilling to risk their lives in the service. "

"I will go myself to urge them to undertake it if you can devise noother means of saving the lad, " said Mr Tremayne. 

"The distance is considerable, and it will be night before you can reachthe place, " answered the officer. "I would advise you, sir, not to makethe attempt. They will trust to my promise, as I will send one of myown men. "

"Tell them you will give them twenty-five pounds if they will start atonce, " exclaimed Mrs Tremayne, eagerly; "surely men will not standcalmly by and allow the poor boy to perish in their sight. "

"I will do as you wish, " answered the officer. 

Just as they were speaking, however, there was a cry from those lookingon. 

"He has cut his cable--he has hoisted his sail--he is going to ventureit, " exclaimed several people simultaneously. 

The boat's head was turned towards the shore. Onward she came. Now sherose to the summit of a huge wave, now plunged downwards. For aninstant the sail flapped, becalmed by another sea which rolled upastern. 

A cry escaped the spectators: "She will be swamped! she will beswamped!"

But no; again the sail filled and on she came. The young boy was seenseated in the stern of his boat grasping the tiller with one hand andthe main-sheet with the other. Over she heeled to the blast--again sherose, and again sunk down, and now she was among the hissing, roaring, foaming breakers. The waters bubbled up, tumbling into her on eitherside; but still the boy held firm hold of his tiller. Again the sailflapped--there was a sudden lull. 

"She is lost, she is lost!" was the cry. "The next sea must swamp her;"but the wind came faster than the wave--the sail bulged out, and on sheflew. 

For another moment she seemed to hang in the midst of a breaker as itrushed backwards from the shore, but another lifted her, and, carriedforward on its crest, she came like a thing of life escaping from hersavage pursuers towards the beach. 

A dozen stout hands, incited by the address of Mr Tremayne, rushedforward to grasp the boat, regardless now of their own safety, for thework was one of no little danger; ere they could seize the boat'sgunwale she might be dashed against them, or be swept out by thereceding wave as it went hissing backwards in a sheet of foam. But theywere well accustomed to the duty they had undertaken. 

Michael to the last kept his seat, steering his boat stem on to thebeach. As he felt the keel touch the sand he sprang forward and wasgrasped by the sturdy arms of one of those who had gone to his rescue, and carried in triumph out of the reach of the foaming breaker, whichcame roaring up as if fierce at the escape of its prey. 

With difficulty those who had gone down to seize the boat made their wayafter their companion, and she, before they could haul her up, wasthrown on the beach and rolled over and over with her sides crushed in. 

"Oh, the boat, the boat! what will poor father and those at home do?"exclaimed Michael, as he saw what had happened. "I thought to havesaved her. "

"Never mind the boat, " answered a stout lad, one of those who had gonedown to his rescue, wringing him by the hand. "We are right glad tohave you safe. I only got here just in time to see you standing for theshore. I did not think you would reach it. I have been hunting for youall along the coast, and made sure that you were lost. "

"Thank you, Eban, " answered Michael, for it was Eban Cowan who spoke tohim. "But poor father will grieve when he hears the boat is lost afterall. "

"Thy father won't grieve for that or anything else, Michael, " said Eban, thoughtlessly; "he is dead. "

"Dead!" exclaimed poor Michael, grasping the arm of the man who hadbrought him on shore, and who was still standing by him, and overcome bythe strain on his nerves, which he had hitherto so manfully endured, andthe sad news so abruptly given him, he would have fallen to the groundhad not the fisherman supported him. 

Mr Tremayne and his wife and daughter now came up. 

"Poor boy, it is not surprising that he should give way at last, "observed Mrs Tremayne. "We will have him carried to our inn, where hecan be properly attended to. "

Mr Tremayne agreed to her proposal, and, begging two of the stoutfishermen to carry the lad, he promised a reward to those who couldsecure the boat and her gear. 

"That will be my charge, " said the coast-guard officer. "But I amafraid that the boat herself is a complete wreck, and that very littleof her gear will be saved. "

Michael, on being placed in a comfortable bed in the inn, soon returnedto consciousness, and was greatly surprised to find two kind-lookingladies watching by his side. The younger one called her father from anadjoining room. 

"You have had a hard tussle for your life; you behaved courageously, mylad, " observed Mr Tremayne, taking his hand. 

"I am thankful that God has spared my life, " answered Michael in a lowvoice, which showed how much his strength was prostrated. "But, O sir, Eban told me that father is dead, and the boat is all knocked to pieces, and what will Nelly and poor granny do? Next to God, they can only lookto the boat and me for help. "

"What! young as you are, do you expect to be able to support yourselfand those you speak of?" asked Mrs Tremayne. 

"Yes; father gave them into my charge, and if God had given me strength, and the boat had been spared, I would have done my best. "

"We know Nelly and your granny, and more about you than you maysuppose, " said Mrs Tremayne, kindly; "we paid them a visit to-day, andheard of their loss. But set your mind at rest about your boat, we willendeavour to obtain another for you, and help you in any other way youmay wish. "

Michael expressed his gratitude with an overflowing heart. A night'squiet rest completely restored his strength, and, being eager to assureNelly and Dame Lanreath of his safety, after he had bade his new friendsgood-bye he set off on his return home. 

Mrs Tremayne promised to have his boat looked after, and to pay him avisit in the course of a day or two to arrange about the purchase ofanother. 

On reaching home Michael found that Eban Cowan had been before him, andgiven Nelly and her granny tidings of his safety. They had heard, however, only of the loss of his boat, and had been naturally anxious atthe thoughts of what they should do without her. The news he broughtthat he was to have a new one greatly revived their spirits. 

"God is indeed kind to us in sending us help in our time of need, " saidDame Lanreath. "O my children! never forget His loving-kindness, butserve and obey Him as long as you live. "

Michael's grief was renewed as he went in to see the friend who hadacted the part of a father to him all his life; but happily deep griefdoes not endure long in young hearts, and he now looked forward to MrTremayne's promised visit. 

"I hope the young lady and her mother will come with him. O Nelly! shelooked like an angel as she watched by me, when I scarcely knew whetherI was alive or being knocked over and over in the breakers, " heobserved. "For hours after I was safe on shore I had their sound in myears in a way I never knew before. "

Mr Tremayne came to the cottage just as Dame Lanreath, with Michael andNelly, had returned from attending the funeral of Paul Trefusis. It wasa calm and lovely day, and contrasted greatly with the weather which hadbefore prevailed. 

In the harbour, just below the cottage, lay a boat somewhat smaller thanthe "Wild Duck, " but nearly new, with freshly-tanned sails, and wellfitted in every respect. Mrs and Miss Tremayne were seated in it, withtwo men who had rowed it round from the Lizard. 

Mr Tremayne invited the inmates of the cottage to come down and see it. 

"What do you think of her?" he asked, after they had greeted the twoladies. 

"She is a handy craft, sir, and just suited for this place, " answeredMichael. 

"I hope you will find her so, " replied Mr Tremayne. "Here is a paperwhich assigns her to you as her master, and if you will moor her fasther present crew will leave her, as we purpose to continue our journeyby land, and have ordered the carriage to meet us at the top of thehill. "

Michael was unable to express his gratitude in words. Dame Lanreathspoke for him. 

"May God reward you and your wife and children for your kindness to theorphans, and to an old woman who has well-nigh run her course on earth. We were cast down, though we know that His mercy endureth for ever, andyou have lifted us up and shown us that He is faithful and never failsto send help in time of need. "

Nelly took Miss Tremayne's hand, and, prompted by her feelings, kissedit affectionately; but even she was for the moment unable to express herfeelings by words. 

"Thank you, sir, thank you, " said Michael at last, as they went back. "You have made a man of me, and I can now work for those who have tolook to me for support. "

"I hope you will have the strength, as I am sure you have the will, andmay God bless you, my lad, " said Mr Tremayne, shaking him warmly by thehand, for he was far more pleased with the few words Michael had utteredthan had he poured out his gratitude in measured language. As he andthe ladies proceeded up the pathway, Nelly ran into the cottage. Shesoon again overtook them. 

"Will you please, miss, take these small shells?" she said; "they arelittle worth, I fear, but I have nothing else to give which you mightwish to accept, and they may put you in mind of this place, and thosewho will pray for you and bless your father and mother as long as theylive. "

Miss Tremayne, much pleased, thanked Nelly for her gift, and, assuringher that she should never forget her or Michael and her granny, acceptedthe gift. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that Michael spent a considerableportion of the remainder of the day examining his new boat over and overagain, blessing the donor in his heart, and thankful that he should nowbe able to support Nelly and her granny. 

Then the little family assembled in their sitting room, and offered uptheir thanks to the merciful Being Who looked down upon them in theirdistress. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

Michael Penguyne made ample use of his new boat. Nelly proposed thatshe should be called the "Dove. "

"You see she was sent to us when all around seemed so dark and gloomy, just as the dove returned to Noah, to show that God had not forgottenhim. "

"Then we will call her the `Dove', " said Michael; and the "Dove" fromhenceforth became the name of Michael's new boat. 

Early and late Michael was in his boat, though he took good care not tobe caught to leeward of his port again by a gale of wind. When ashorehe was employed mending his nets and refitting his boat's gear or hisfishing-lines. Never for a moment was he idle, for he always foundsomething which ought to be done; each rope's-end was pointed; hisrigging was never chafed; and the moment any service was wanted he putit on. 

Thus a couple of years passed by, Dame Lanreath and Nelly setting outday after day to sell the fish or lobsters and crabs he caught, forwhich they seldom failed to obtain a good price. 

At length, however, he found that he could do better with a mate. 

"I must get David Treloar, as I said some time ago, " he observed toNelly. "He is twice as strong as I am, though it would not do to trusthim alone in a boat, as he never seems to know which way the wind is, orhow the tide is running; but he is honest and good-natured, and staunchas steel, and he will do what I tell him. That's all I want. If he hadbeen with me in the little `Duck, ' we might have gained the harbour andsaved her, and though I take all the care I can, yet I may be caughtagain in the same way. "

David Treloar was a nephew of old Reuben Lanaherne, who had done hisbest to bring up the poor lad, and make a fisherman of him. His fatherhad been lost at sea, and his mother had gone out of her mind, and soonafterwards died. 

Michael found him near his uncle's house, attempting, though not veryexpertly, to mend a net. 

He was a broad-shouldered, heavy-looking youth, with an expression ofcountenance which at first sight appeared far from prepossessing; butwhen spoken to kindly, or told to do anything he liked--and he was readyto do most things--it brightened up, and even a stranger would have saidhe was a trustworthy fellow, though he might be lacking in intelligence. 

"So glad you are come, Michael, " he said. "Here have I been workingaway at these meshes, and cannot make them come even; the more I pull atthem the worse they are. Just do you use your fingers and settle thejob for me, and I will do anything for you. "

"I know you will, David, and so I am pretty certain that you will comeand work in my boat. "

"What, this afternoon?" asked David. 

"No, but always. I want you to be my mate. "

"Hurra! hurra! that I will, lad, with all my heart. Uncle Reuben hasgot enough lads of his own, he does not want me, and the rest are alwaysmaking fun at me; but you won't do that, Michael, I know. We will soonshow them that we can catch as many fish as they can, you and Itogether; and uncle often says I am as strong as a grown man, andstronger than many. " And the young Hercules stretched out his brawnyarms. 

Michael had not expected to obtain a mate so easily, for David neverthought of making terms; provided he got food enough for the day, thatwas all he thought about. Michael, however, intended to settle thatmatter with Uncle Reuben. His wish was to act justly towards all men, and pay David fully as much as he was worth. 

Able now to use his nets, Michael could look forward to the pilchardseason, when he might hope to reap a rich harvest from the sea. 

Soon after this he fell in with Eban Cowan. 

"So I see you have got that dolt David Treloar as your mate, " observedEban. "If you had asked me, I would have advised you to take a chapworth two of him. He is big and strong enough, but he has no sense. Iwonder, indeed, Michael, that you can go on year after year content tocatch a few fish and lobsters, when you might make no end of money andlive at home most days in the week enjoying your comfort and doingnothing. Just see how father and I live. You don't suppose the mill, and the fish, and our few acres of ground enable us to do that. "

"I don't ask how you get your living--I do not wish to interfere with myneighbours; but I know that it is my duty to work hard every day thatthe weather will let me, " answered Michael. 

"That may be your taste; but I wonder you like to see Nelly wearing herold frock and hood which have become far too small for her, and AuntLanreath's old jacket and petticoat are well-nigh worn out. "

Michael acknowledged that such was the case, and observed that he hopedthey would soon get new garments. 

"You might get them at once if you will join us in our business, "answered Eban. "What with the fellows who have gone to sea, and somefew who have been taken and sent to prison, and those who have beendrowned or lost their lives in other ways, we have not as many men as wewant. There is good pay to be got, and other profits besides. Youwould be perfectly safe, for you have a good character, and no one wouldsuspect you of being engaged in the free-trade service. "

"I tell you, Eban, once for all, I will have nothing to do withsmuggling, " answered Michael, firmly. "You say no one will suspect me, but you forget that God sees and hears everything we do, or say, orthink. Though my fellow-men might not suspect me, He would know that Iwas engaged in unlawful work. Darkness is no darkness to Him. Day andnight to Him are both alike. "

"I don't let myself think about those sort of things, " answered EbanCowan, in an angry tone. "I ask you again, will you be a sensiblefellow and unite with us as I have invited you?"

"No, I will not, " said Michael. "I do not wish to be unfriendly withyou, but when you ask me to do what I know to be wrong I cannot lookupon you as a friend. "

"Take your own way, then, " exclaimed Eban, angrily. "You may thinkbetter of the matter by-and-by: then all you have to do is to come to meand say so. "

Eban and Michael parted for the time. The former, however, was aconstant visitor at Dame Lanreath's cottage. He did not disguise hisadmiration for Nelly Trefusis. She might have been flattered, for hewas a good-looking, fair-spoken youth, and as he dressed well and hadalways plenty of money in his pocket, he was looked upon as one of theprincipal young men in the neighbourhood. 

Still Nelly did not consider him equal to Michael. 

Time went on: she was becoming a young woman, and Michael was no longerthe little boy she had looked upon in her early days as her brother. He, too, had ceased to treat her with the affectionate familiarity heused to do when he supposed her to be his sister. Still he looked uponher as the being of all others whom he was bound to love, and protect, and support to the utmost of his power. Had, however, any young manwhom he esteemed, and whom Nelly liked, appeared and offered to becomeher husband, he would possibly have advised her to accept him, though hemight have felt that the light of his home had departed. Indeed, he wasso occupied that the thought of marrying at some future time had neverentered his head. 

Though Nelly gave Eban Cowan no encouragement, he still continued, whenever he could get a fair pretence, to visit the cottage, and neverfailed to walk by her side when he met her out. Generally he camesaying that he wished to see Michael, whom he always spoke of as hismost intimate friend, though Michael did not consider himself so. Heknew too much about Eban to desire his friendship; indeed, he doubtedvery much that Eban really cared for him. 

"Your friend Eban has been here again to-day, " said Nelly, one eveningwhen Michael returned home late. "He waited and waited, and though Itold him I could not say when you would come back, he still sat on, declaring that he must see you, as he wanted you to go somewhere withhim, or do something, though what it was he would not tell us. At last, as it grew dark, he was obliged to be off, and neither granny nor Iinvited him to stay longer. "

"I am glad he did go, " answered Michael; "but do not call him my friend. If he was a true friend he would give me good advice and try to lead mearight; instead of that he gives me bad advice, and tries to lead me todo what I know is wrong. There--you now know what I think of EbanCowan. "

"And you think very rightly, " observed Dame Lanreath. "I do not trusthim, and perhaps you know more about him and have greater reasons fornot liking him than I have. "

"Michael, " said Nelly, looking up, "I will trust only those whom youtrust, and I do not wish to like any one whom you do not like. "

Still, although Nelly took no care to show any preference for Eban, itwas not in her heart to be rude or unkind to him; but Dame Lanreathtried to make him understand that his visits were not wished for. He, however, fancied that she alone did not like him, and still flatteredhimself that he was making his way with Nelly. 

Thus matters went on month after month. Michael and David Treloarsucceeded together better even than at first expected. David was alwaysready to do the hard work, and, placing perfect confidence in Michael'sskill and judgment, readily obeyed him. 

It was the height of summer-time. The pilchards in vast schools beganto visit the coast of Cornwall, and the fishermen in all directions werepreparing for their capture. The boats were got ready, the netsthoroughly repaired, and corks and leads and tow lines and warps fitted. _Huers_, as the men are called who watch for the fish, had taken theirstations on every height on the look-out for their approach. Each_huer_ kept near him the "white bush, " which is the name given to a massof furze covered with tow or white ribbons. This being raised aloft isthe sign that a school is in sight. The boats employed were of twodescriptions, the largest of from twenty to thirty tons, carrying sevenor eight men; and the smaller somewhat larger than the "Dove, " havingonly three or four men. 

Michael had succeeded in obtaining another hand, so that, small as hisboat was, he was fully able to take a part in the work. 

The pilchard belongs to the herring family, but is somewhat smaller, anddiffers from that fish in external appearance, having a shorter head anda more compact body; its scales, too, are rather longer than those ofthe common herring. It is supposed to retire during the winter to thedeep water of the ocean, and to rise only as the summer approaches tothe surface, when it commences its travels and moves eastward towardsthe English Channel. 

At first it forms only small bands, but these increase till a large armyis collected, under the guidance, it is supposed, of a chief. Onward itmakes its way, pursued by birds of prey who pounce down and carry offthousands of individuals, whose loss, however, scarcely diminishes thesize of the mighty host. Voracious fish, too, pursue the army as itadvances in close columns, and swallow immense numbers. 

As it approaches the Land's End it divides, one portion making its waynorthward along the west coast, while the other moves forward along thesouth coast towards the Start. 

The huers can distinguish the approach of a school by a change in thecolour of the sea. As it draws near, the water appears to leap and boillike a cauldron, while at night the ocean is spread over, as it were, with a sheet of liquid light, brilliant as when the moonbeams play onthe surface rippled by a gentle breeze. 

From early dawn a number of boats had been waiting off the shore, keeping their position by an occasional pull at the oars as necessityrequired, with their nets ready to cast at a moment's warning. Michael's boat was among them. He and his companions cast their eyesconstantly at the huers on the summit of the cliffs above, anxiouslyexpecting the signal that a school had been seen in the far distance. But whether it would approach the shore near enough to enable them toencircle it was uncertain. It might come towards them, but then itmight suddenly sweep round to a different part of the coast or dart backagain into deep water. Hour after hour passed by. 

The crews of the boats had their provisions with them, and no one atthat time would think of returning to the shore for breakfast or dinner. They kept laughing and talking together, or occasionally exchanging aword with those in the boats on either side of them. 

"I hope we shall have better luck than yesterday, " said David Treloar. "I had made up my mind that we should have the schools if they came nearus, and yet they got off again just at the time I thought we had themsecured. "

"You must have patience, David; trust to Him Who helped the fishermen ofGalilee when they had toiled all day and caught nothing, " answeredMichael. "I do not see that we should expect to be better off than theywere; He Who taught the pilchards to visit our shores will send theminto our nets if He thinks fit. Our business is to toil on and to trustto His kindness. "

"Ah, Michael! you are always right; I do not see things as clearly asyou do, " said David. 

"If you do not, still you know that God cares for you as much as He doesfor me or anyone else; and so do you trust to Him, and depend upon itall will turn out right. That's what Uncle Paul used to say, and yourUncle Reuben says. "

Michael had for some time past taken pains to let it be known that hewas not, as supposed to be, the son of Paul Trefusis, and had told allhis friends and acquaintances the history which Paul had given him. Many of the elder people, indeed, were well acquainted with thecircumstances of the case, and were able to corroborate what he said. Eban Cowan, however, had hitherto been ignorant of the fact, and hadalways supposed that Michael was Nelly's brother. This had originallymade him anxious to gain Michael's friendship for her sake. Almost fromhis boyhood he had admired her, and his admiration increased with hisgrowth, till he entertained for her as much affection as it was in hisnature to feel. 

No sooner was he aware of the truth than jealousy of Michael sprang upin his heart, and instead of putting it away, as he ought to have done, he nourished it till his jealousy grew into a determined and deadlyhatred of one whom he chose to consider as his rival. 

Michael, not aware of this, met him in the same frank way that he hadalways been accustomed to do, and took no notice of the angry scowlwhich Eban often cast at him. 

Eban on this occasion had command of his father's boat. He was reputedto be as good and bold a fisherman as anyone on the coast. Michael didnot observe the fierce look Eban cast at him as they were shoving off inthe morning when the two boats pulled out of the harbour together sideby side. 

The boats had now been waiting several hours, and when the huers wereseen to raise their white boughs and point to a sandy beach to the northof the harbour (a sign that a school of pilchards was directing itscourse in that direction), instantly the cry of "_heva_" was raised bythe numerous watchers on the shore, and the crews of the boats, bendingto their oars, pulled away to get outside the school and prevent themfrom turning back. 

Two with nets on board, starting from the same point, began quick aslightning to cast them out till they formed a vast circle. 

Away the rowers pulled, straining their sinews to the utmost, till alarge circle was formed two thousand feet in circumference, within whichthe shining fish could be seen leaping and struggling thickly togetheron the surface. The seine, about twelve fathoms deep, thus formed awall beyond which the fish could not pass, the bottom being sunk byheavy leads and the upper part supported by corks. In the meantime aboat was employed in driving the fish towards the centre of theenclosure, lest before the circle was completed they might alter theircourse and escape. 

Although the fish were thus enclosed, their enormous weight wouldcertainly have broken through the net had an attempt been made to dragthem on to the beach. The operation was not yet over. Warping ordragging them into shallow water had now to be commenced. Gradually thecircle was drawn nearer and nearer the shore, till shallow water wasreached. The seine was then moored, that is, secured by grapplinghooks. It had next to be emptied. In bad weather this cannot be done, as the work requires smooth water. On the present occasion, however, the sea was calm, and several boats, supplied with smaller nets andbaskets, entered the circle and commenced what is called _tucking_. Thesmall nets were used to encircle as many fish as they could lift, whichwere quickly hauled on board in the ordinary way, while other boatsladled the pilchards out of the water with baskets. As soon as a boatwas laden she returned to the shore by the only passage left open, wheremen stood ready to close it as soon as she had passed. 

On the beach were collected numbers of women and lads, with creels ontheir backs ready to be filled. As soon as this was done they carriedthem up to the curing-house, situated on a convenient spot near the bay. Among those on the beach were Dame Lanreath and Nelly, and as Michaelassisted to fill their creels he expressed his satisfaction at havingcontributed so materially to the success of the undertaking, for hisboat had been one of the most actively employed. 

As all engaged in the operation belonged to the same company, theyworked with a will, each person taking his allotted duty, and thus doingtheir utmost to obtain success. 

Some time was occupied in thus emptying the seine, for after the fish onthe surface had been caught many more which were swimming lower down andmaking endeavours to escape, were obtained with the _tucking_ nets. Thewhole net itself was then dragged up, and the remainder of the fishwhich had been caught in the meshes, or had before escaped capture, weretaken out. 

Such is the ordinary way of catching the pilchard on the coast ofCornwall with seines. 

The inhabitants of the village congratulated themselves on theirsuccess. 

Often, as has been said, tucking has to be delayed in consequence of aheavy sea for several days, and sometimes, after all, the fish have beenlost. 

"I mind, not long ago, " observed Uncle Reuben, "when we were shooting anet to the southward, it was caught by the tide and carried away againstthe rocks, where, besides the fish getting free, it was so torn andmangled that it took us many a long winter's evening to put to rights. And you have heard tell, Michael, that at another time, when we had gotwell-nigh a thousand pounds' worth of fish within our seine, they tookit into their heads to make a dash together at one point, and, capsizingit, leaped clear over the top, and the greater number of them got free. And only two seasons ago, just as we thought we had got a fine haul, andthe seine was securely moored, a ground swell set in from the westward, where a heavy gale was blowing, and the net was rolled over and overtill every fish had escaped, and the net was worth little or nothing. So I say we have reason to be thankful when we get a successful catchlike that we have had to-day. "

It was not, however, the only successful catch which Michael and hiscompanions made that season. Still, as his boat and net were but small, his share was less than that of the rest of the company, and, after all, his share was not more than sufficient for his expenses. 

A considerable number of the company were now employed in curing orbulking the late catch of pilchards. This was carried on in a circularcourt called a cellar. The fish which had been piled up within it werenow laid out on raised slabs which ran round the court. First a layerof salt was spread, then a layer of pilchards, and so on, layers ofpilchards and salt alternating, till a vast mound was raised. Here theyremained for about a month or more. Below the slabs were gutters, whichconveyed the brine and oil which oozed out of the mass into a large pitin the centre of the court. From three to four hundredweight of saltwas used for each hogshead. 

After they had remained in bulk for sufficient time the pilchards werecleansed from the salt and closely packed in hogsheads, each of whichcontains about 2, 400 fish, and weighs about 476 pounds. The pressure towhich they are subjected forces the oil out through the open joints ofthe cask. 

The pilchards are now familiarly called "fair maids, " from _fermade_, acorruption of _fumado_ (the Spanish word for _smoked_), as originallythey were cured by smoking, a method, however, which has long beenabandoned. 

No portion of the prize is lost; the oil and blood is sold to thecurriers, the skimmings of the water in which the fish are washed beforepacking is purchased by the soap-boilers, and the broken and refuse fishare sold for manure. The oil when clarified forms an important item inthe profit. 

The pilchards, however, are not always to be entrapped near the shore. At most times they keep out at sea, where the hardy fishermen make useof the drift-net. 

Two sorts of boats are employed for this purpose; one is of about thirtytons burden, the other much smaller. They use a number of nets called_a set_, about twenty in all, joined together. Each net is about 170feet long, and 40 deep. United lengthways they form a wallthree-quarters of a mile long, the lower part kept down by leads, theupper floated on the surface by corks. Sometimes they are even muchlonger. 

Within the meshes of this net the fish, as they swim rapidly forward, entangle themselves. They easily get their heads through, but cannotwithdraw them, as they are held by the gills, which open in the waterlike the barbs of an arrow. Their bodies also being larger than themeshes, they thus remain hanging, unable to extricate themselves. 

The driving-boat is made fast to one end of the wall, where she hangs ontill the time for hauling the net arrives. 

The fishermen prefer a thick foggy night and a loppy sea, as under thosecircumstances the pilchards do not perceive the net in their way. Attimes, however, when the water is phosphorescent, the creatures whichform the luminous appearance cover the meshes so that the whole netbecomes lighted up. 

This is called "briming, " and the pilchards, thus perceiving the trap intheir way, turn aside and escape its meshes. 

As briming rarely occurs during twilight, and the ocean is at that timedark enough to hide the wall of twine, the fishermen generally shoottheir nets soon after sunset and just before dawn, when the fine weathermakes it probable that they will be lighted up by the dreaded briming atthe other hours of the night. 

The operation of hauling in nearly a mile of net, with its meshes fullof fish, is an arduous task, especially during a dark night, when theboat is tossed about by a heavy sea, and at no time indeed can it be aneasy one. The hardy fishermen pursue this species of fishing during thegreater part of the year, for small schools of pilchards arrive in theChannel as early as the month of May, and remain far into the winter, till the water becomes too cool for their constitutions, when theyreturn eastwards to seek a warmer climate in the depths of the Atlantic, or swim off to some unknown region, where they may deposit their spawnor obtain the food on which they exist. Little, however, is known ofthe causes which guide their movements, and the Cornish fishermen remainsatisfied by knowing the fact that the beautiful little fish whichenables them to support themselves and their families are sent annuallyby their benignant Creator to visit their coasts, and seldom troublethemselves to make any further inquiries on the subject. 

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

Two more years passed away--Nelly had become a pretty young woman, modest and good as she was attractive in her personal appearance. Shehad admirers in plenty besides Eban Cowan, who continued, as in hisyounger days, to pay her all the attention in his power, and openlydeclared to his companions his purpose of making her his wife. 

By this means he kept some at a distance who were afraid to encounterhim as a rival, for they well knew his fierce and determineddisposition, of which he had on several occasions given evidence. Everyone knew that he and his father were leagued with the most desperategang of smugglers on the coast, and two or three times when acting asleader of a party he had had fierce encounters with the coast-guard, andon each occasion by his judgment and courage had succeeded in carryingoff the goods which had been landed to a place of safety He frequentlyalso had made trips in a smuggling lugger, of which his father was partowner, to the coast of France. He was looked upon as a hardy and expertseaman, as well as a good fisherman. Had he, indeed, kept to the lattercalling, with the boats he owned he would have become an independent, ifnot a wealthy man. But ill-gotten gains go fast, and in his smugglingenterprises, though he was often successful, yet he lost in the end morethan he gained. 

Nelly, though flattered by the attention paid her, showed no preferencefor any of her admirers. She had a good-natured word or a joke for allof them, but always managed to make them hold their tongues when theyappeared to be growing serious. How she might have acted without thesage Dame Lanreath to advise her, or had she not felt that she could notconsent to desert her and Michael, it is impossible to say. 

Michael had become a fine and active young man. As a sailor he was notinferior to Eban. He had been able to support Nelly and her grandmotherin comfort, and to save money besides. He had invested his profits in ashare of Uncle Reuben's large fishing-boat, and was thus able to employhimself in the deep-sea seine fishing for the greater part of the year, as well as that of the inshore fishing which he had hitherto pursued. His only regret was that it compelled him to be absent from home morefrequently and for longer periods, but then he had always the advantageof returning to spend every Sunday with Nelly. 

Those Sundays were indeed very happy ones; he did not spend them in idlesloth, but he and Nelly, accompanied by her grandmother, set off earlyto worship together, never allowing either wind or rain to hinder them, although they had several miles to go. On their return they spent theremainder of the day in reading God's Word, or one of the few cherishedbooks they possessed. They had received some time back two or threewhich were especially favoured, sent by Mrs and Miss Tremayne, with akind message inquiring after Michael and Dame Lanreath, and hoping thatthe "Dove" had answered Michael's expectations and proved a good anduseful sea-boat. Nelly undertook to write a reply. 

"That she has, tell them, " said Michael. "I often think, when I am atwork on board her, of their kindness, and what I should have done hadthey and Mr Tremayne not given her to me. "

After this, however, they received no further news of their friends, andthough Nelly wrote to inquire, her letter was returned by thepost-office, stating that they had left the place. 

Refreshed by his Sunday rest, Michael went with renewed strength to hisweekly toil. 

Uncle Reuben's boat was called the "Sea-Gull. " Michael was nowconstantly on board her, as he had from his prudence and skill beenchosen as mate. When Reuben himself did not go out in her, he had thecommand. 

The merry month of May had begun, the "Sea-Gull" was away with herdrift-nets. Reuben hoped to be among the first to send fish to theHelston market. Dame Lanreath and Nelly, as well as several otherfemale members of Reuben's family, or related to his crew, were ready toset off with their creels as soon as the boat returned. 

Nelly had gone as far as Uncle Reuben's house to watch for the"Sea-Gull. " She had not long to wait before she caught sight of thelittle vessel skimming over the waters before a light nor'-westerlybreeze. It was the morning of the eighth of May, when the annualfestival of the Flurry was to be held at Helston. 

Although Nelly did not wish to take part in the sports carried on there, still she had no objection to see what was going forward, and perhapsMichael, contrary to his custom, would be willing to accompany her andher granny. 

"He so seldom takes a holiday; but for this once he may be tempted to goand see the fun, " she thought. 

The "Sea-Gull" drew near, and Nelly knew her appearance too well to haveany doubt about her, even when she was a long way off. 

She now hurried home to tell Dame Lanreath, that they might be ready atthe landing-place to receive their portion of the vessel's cargo. 

The vessel was soon moored alongside the quay, when the creels werequickly filled with fish. 

"If you will come with us to Helston, Michael, I will wait for you. Granny will go on ahead and we can soon overtake her. Though you havelived so near you have never seen a Flurry dance, and on this brightmorning there will sure to be a good gathering. "

"I care little for seeing fine folks dressed up in gay flowers and whitedresses, and dancing and jigging, especially as neither you nor I cantake a part in the fun, " answered Michael. "I should like the walk wellenough with you, Nelly, but a number of congers and dog-fish got foul ofour nets and made some ugly holes in them, which will take us all day tomend; it is a wonder they did not do more mischief. So, as I always putbusiness before pleasure, you see, Nelly, I must not go, however much Imight wish it. "

Nelly thought that David and others might mend the nets; but Michaelsaid that he and all hands were required to do the work, and that if hedid not stop and set a good example the others might be idle, and whenhe got back in the evening it might not be done. So Nelly, veryunwillingly, was obliged to give up her scheme of inducing Michael totake a holiday, and accompanied her granny as usual. 

Having left Michael's breakfast ready on the table, they set off. Thedame trudged along, staff in hand; her step was as firm as it had beenten years before, though her body was slightly bent. Nelly walked byher side, as she had done year after year, but she now bore her burdenwith greater ease; and with her upright figure, and her cheeks bloomingwith health, the two together presented a perfect picture of a fish-wifeand fish-girl. 

Dame Lanreath had promised, after they had sold the contents of theircreels, to wait some little time to see the Flurry dance and the gaypeople who would throng the town. Nelly looked forward to the scenewith pleasure, her only regret being that Michael had been unable toaccompany her. 

They had gone some distance when they heard a rapid step behind them, and Eban Cowan came up to Nelly's side. 

"I have been walking hard to overtake you, Nelly, " he said, "for I foundthat you had gone on. I suppose you intend to stay and see the gaydoings at Helston, and will not object to an escort back in theevening?"

"Granny proposes stopping for the Flurry dance, but we shall come awaylong before it is dark, and as we know the road as well as most people, we can find it by ourselves, " answered Nelly, coldly. 

"You will miss half the fun, then, " said Eban. "You must get yourgranny to stop, or, if she will not, she cannot mind your remaining withmy sister and cousin, and I can see you and them home. "

"I cannot let my granny walk home by herself, " answered Nelly; "and so, Eban, I beg that you will not say anything more about the matter. "

Eban saw that it would not do just then to press the subject, and hehoped that perhaps Nelly would lose sight of her grandmother in thecrowd, and that she would then be too glad to come back under hischarge. He had made up his mind to have a talk with her, and bringmatters to an issue; he did not suppose that she and Michael could caremuch for each other, or he thought that they would have married longago, and so believed that he had a better chance than any one else ofwinning Nelly Trefusis. 

He walked on, trying to make himself agreeable now saying a few words tothe dame, who generally gave him curt answers, and now addressing Nelly. As he had plenty to say for himself, she could not help being amused, and his conversation served to beguile the way over the somewhat drearycountry they had to pass till the neighbourhood of Helston was reached. 

He accompanied them in the ferry-boat which took them across to the townon the other side of the shallow estuary or lake on which it is built. 

As they had now to go from house to house to sell their fish, he had toleave them, believing, however, that he should have no difficulty infinding them again when their creels were empty. 

The town was at that time quiet enough, for all the shops were closed, and most of the young men and maidens, as well as large parties ofchildren, had gone into the surrounding woods to cut boughs and gatherwild flowers. 

The housewives, however, were eager to purchase their fresh-caughtpilchards, to make into huge pasties, which, with clotted cream, formsthe favourite Cornish dish. 

They had already disposed of a considerable portion of their freight, when they saw a large party approaching along the principalthoroughfare. It consisted of a number of young people, boys and girls, their heads decked with wreaths of flowers, and holding in their handsgreen boughs, which they waved to and fro as they advanced, singing--

 "Once more the merry month of May Has come, and driven old winter away; And so as now green boughs we bring, We merrily dance and merrily sing. No more we dread the frost and snow, No more the winter breezes blow; But summer suns and azure skies Warm our hearts and please our eyes. And so we dance and so we sing, And here our woodland trophies bring; Hurra, hurra, hurra, hurra! What can with our Flurry dance compare?"

Thus the merry party went dancing and singing through the town, everyone running out from their houses to greet and applaud them. 

A large number of carriages and vehicles of all sorts now appeared, conveying the inhabitants of the surrounding district, who came insummer attire, decked with spring flowers, preceded by a band of music. 

They all assembled before the Town Hall, when the Flurry dancecommenced. Rows of ladies and gentlemen formed opposite each other, then, moving forward, they set to each other in couples, and proceededthus, dancing and singing, down the streets. Garden-gates stood open, and many of the doors of the larger houses. Through them the dancersentered, continuing their evolutions up and down the gravel walks andthrough the halls, all ranks and classes mingling together. All seemedin good humour; in spite of the exercise they were taking, none appearedfatigued or willing to stop. 

The Flurry tune which was played is a peculiar one, evidently of greatantiquity, and probably the custom had its origin as far back as thefeast of Flora, when pagan rites were performed in the country, or, perhaps, it originally was instituted to celebrate a victory over theSaxons; or it may be a remnant of some old Celtic observance. 

Few of those who took part in it cared much about its origin. The youngpeople enjoyed the amusement of dancing and singing, and their elderstheir holiday and relaxation from business. 

Dame Lanreath and Nelly had disposed of all their fish before the Flurrydance began; they thus had ample time to watch what was going forward, Nelly kept close to her grandmother, although she met several of heracquaintances, who stopped to have a talk, and she might easily, had shenot been on the watch, have lost her in the crowd. 

In the evening the grander people were to have a ball at the Town Hall;but as the dame and Nelly took no interest in watching the ladies intheir gay dresses stepping from their carriages, they, having seenenough of the Flurry dance to satisfy their curiosity, set out incompany with several of their friends on their walk homeward. 

They were just leaving the town, when Eban Cowan overtook Nelly, who wasin company with another girl a short distance behind Dame Lanreath. 

"Nelly, " said Eban, "I was in a great fright lest I should miss you. You are going away without seeing half the fun of the day; the peopleare only just getting into the spirit of the dance. I wanted you totake off that creel and have a turn with me. Among all the fine ladiesthere is not one can compare with you for beauty in my eyes, and many alad there would have been jealous of me, in spite of the white dressesand bright flowers of the girls. "

Nelly laughed, thinking that Eban was joking. Her companion, whobelieved the common report, that Eban Cowan was an admirer of NellyTrefusis, and that she encouraged him, dropped behind and joined anotherparty, and Eban and Nelly were left alone. 

He at once changed his tone, which showed that he was deeply in earnest. 

"Nelly, " he said, "I have sought you for long years, and however othersmay admire you, they cannot care for you as I do--my love surpassestheirs a hundredfold. I can give you a comfortable home, and make youequal to any of the fine ladies we have been watching to-day. You needno longer carry that creel on your back, and slave as you have beendoing, if you will become my wife. I tell you that I love you more thanlife itself, and ask you, will you marry me?"

Nelly would willingly have stopped Eban from talking on, but hadhitherto been unable to get in a word. 

"I have known you, Eban Cowan, since I way a girl, but I have never forone moment encouraged you to suppose that I would become your wife, andI now say positively that I cannot and will not. I thank you for allyou have said to me, though I would rather you had left it unsaid; and Iwould wish to be friendly, as we have always been, " she answered, firmly. 

"Is that the only answer you can give me?" exclaimed Eban. 

"I can give no other, " replied Nelly. 

"Do you never intend to marry, then?" asked Eban. 

"I am not compelled to tell you my intentions, " said Nelly. 

"Do you love any one else? because I shall then know how to act, "exclaimed Eban. 

Nelly thought for a moment. "I will tell him; it will be the kindestthing to do, as he will then understand that I can never marry him, andwisely seek another wife. "

"Yes, Eban Cowan, I do love another, " she said, in a low voice. "I loveMichael Penguyne, and can be no other man's wife than his. You havelong called him your friend; let him be your friend still, but give upall thoughts of me. "

"I now know how to act, " muttered Eban, gloomily. "I had no idea thatyou cared for him; and if you choose to become a poor fisherman's wife, you must follow your own course; only, do not suppose that I can ceaseto love you. "

"I cannot listen to what you say, " exclaimed Nelly, walking on rapidly, and feeling very indignant at Eban's last remark. 

He did not attempt to follow her, and she soon overtook Dame Lanreathand the friends who were accompanying her. When she looked round, Ebanhad disappeared. She felt greatly relieved at having got rid of him, and she hoped that, notwithstanding what he had said, he would abandonall hopes of becoming her husband. 

Eban went home by another path, muttering fiercely that he would not bebalked, and that Michael should pay dearly for coming between him andthe girl he loved. 

People little know, when they give way to their unbridled passions, intowhat crimes they may be led. 

Day after day Eban Cowan pondered over his rejection by Nelly, and choseto consider himself especially ill-treated. 

"She should have let me know years ago that she intended to marry thatfellow. How can she think of preferring him, a poor, hard-working lad, to me?" he exclaimed; and dreadful thoughts came into his mind. He madeno attempt to drive them from him. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

The autumn was drawing on. The pilchard harvest had not been assuccessful as the fishermen desired, and they kept their boats at sea inthe hopes of obtaining a share of the schools of fish which stillhovered off their coasts. The drift-nets now could only be used withany prospect of success, and Michael was as active and energetic asever. He had, indeed, greater reason for working hard, as Nelly hadpromised to become his wife in the ensuing spring. He wished to makeevery preparation in his power that she might begin her married lifewith as much comfort as a fisherman's wife could hope to do. 

"Only we must look after granny too, and try to save her the longtrudges she has had to make; and repay her, though that would be a hardmatter, for all the care she took of us when we were young, " he observedto Nelly, as they were talking over their future prospects. 

Nelly heartily agreed with him; but when Dame Lanreath heard of theirintentions, she laughed at the notion of giving up her daily walks tomarket. 

"More reason for Nelly to stay at home to look after the house. Wait abit till my limbs grow stiffer than they are as yet, and till she hasgot a little damsel of her own to trot alongside her as she used to trotalongside me, " she answered. 

"But, granny, I have been thinking of getting little Mary Lanaherne, Uncle Reuben's granddaughter, to go to market with me while you stay athome; she is quite ready to agree to my plan, " said Nelly. 

"Ah, I see you want to become a fine lady now you are going to marry, and have an attendant of your own, " said the dame, laughing. "Bide abit till you have need of help, and let my old limbs wag on while theyhave life in them. "

"That will be for many years to come, I hope, granny, " said Michael;"and to my eyes you don't seem to have become a day older since I firstremember you, and that's longer than I can remember anything else; for Imind you holding me in your arms when father came home one day and gaveme a fish to play with. "

"That was a good bit ago, Michael, to be sure, and I should not like tohave to lift you up now, lad, strong as my arms still are, " answered theold dame, looking approvingly at the fine manly young fisherman as hestood before her. Nelly, too, gave him a glance of tender affection, and all three laughed merrily. Their hearts were light, for thoughtheirs was a life of toil they willingly undertook their daily tasks, and were thankful for the blessings bestowed on them. 

"It is time for me to be off, " said Michael; "Uncle Reuben stays onshore this evening, so I am to act captain. We shall be back, I hope, soon after ten, as he always wishes us to be home early on Saturdaynight, and as the weather looks pretty thick, and there is a nice lop ofa sea on, we may expect to get a good haul. "

Michael kissed Nelly's clear brow, and bestowed his usual "buss, " as hecalled it, on granny's withered cheek; then shouldering his oilskincoat, he took his way towards the landing-place at the mouth of theharbour. 

David and the rest of his crew were sitting about on the rocks withtheir short pipes in their mouths in readiness to go on board. UncleReuben had come down to see them off, and seemed half inclined toaccompany them. 

"If it were not for these aches in my back and sides, and that Ipromised my dame to stay on shore this evening, I would go with you, lads. But keep your weather eyes open. I cannot say I quite like thelook of the weather. It may turn out fine, but it is very thick away tothe southward. "

"It will be fine enough for what we want, Uncle Reuben, and the`Sea-Gull' does not mind a bit of a swell and a stiffish breeze, and weshall be back again almost before there is time to send a second hand tothe bellows, " answered Michael. 

"God go with you, lads, " said the old fisherman as the lads sprang onboard. "If the weather gets worse, haul your nets and make the best ofyour way back. We will keep the light burning on the point, so that youwill not miss your road into harbour at all events. "

The "Sea-Gull" was shoved off, the oars got out, and, with her attendantdrift-boat towing ahead, her hardy crew soon swept her out of theharbour. Her tanned sails were then hoisted, and, close-hauled, shestood away to beat up to her intended fishing-grounds some distance tothe southward, off the Gull Rock. 

The old fisherman stood watching her for some time, more than oncesaying to himself, "I wish that I had gone, the trip would not have hurtme; but Michael is a careful lad, and, even if the weather does come onbad, he will not risk staying out longer than is prudent. "

Bad, indeed, there shortly appeared every probability of the weatherbecoming. Dark green seas came rolling in crested with foam, andbreaking with increasing loudness of sound on the rocky shore; the windwhistled and howled louder and louder. 

Uncle Reuben buttoned up his coat to the chin as he gazed seaward. Atlast his daughter came to call him in to tea. 

"Mother says you will be making yourself worse, father, standing out inthe cold and damp. "

He obeyed the summons; still he could not help every now and thengetting up and going to the door to see what the weather was like; eachtime he came back with a less favourable report. 

As it grew dark, in spite of his dame's expostulations he again went outand proceeded to the point, where he was also joined by three or fourmen, who had come either to attend to the beacon which was kept burningon dark nights, or to look out for the fishing-boats which they expectedwould at once return in consequence of the bad weather which had now inearnest set in. 

As soon as Michael had left his home, a young girl, the child of aneighbour who lived further up the harbour in the direction of the mill, came running to the cottage, saying that her mother was taken ill, andthat as her father and brothers were away fishing, there was no one tostay with her while she went to call for the doctor. 

Nelly at once offered to go and stay with the poor woman, and to do herbest. 

"No, I will go, " said Dame Lanreath; "maybe I shall be able to tell whatis best to be done as well as the doctor himself. Do you run on, Nancy, and I will come and look after your mother. "

As the dame was not to be contradicted, Nelly continued the work inwhich she was engaged, and her grandmother set off with active stepstowards her neighbour's cottage. 

Nelly had not been long alone when she heard a hasty footstepapproaching. The door opened, and Eban Cowan stood before her. A darkfrown was on his brow, his eyes she thought had a wild and fierceexpression she had never before seen them wear. Her heart sank withinher, and she in vain tried to speak in her usually friendly tone. 

"Good evening, Eban; what brings you here at this hour?" she said, onseeing him stand gazing at her without uttering a word. 

"Nelly, I have come to ask you a question, and as you answer it you willmake me more happy than I have been for many a long day, or you willsend me away a miserable wretch, and you will never, it may be, see meagain. "

"I shall be sorry not to see you again, Eban, for we have been friendsfrom our earliest days, and I hoped that we should always remain so, "answered Nelly, mustering all the courage she possessed to speak calmly. 

"That is what drives me to desperation, " he exclaimed. "Nelly, is ittrue that you are going to marry Michael Penguyne?"

"I hope so, if it is God's will, as you ask me to tell you, " said Nelly, firmly. "I fancied that you were his friend, as you always were mine. And, Eban, I pray that you may not feel any ill-will towards either ofus, because we love each other, and are sure we shall be happytogether. "

"Is that the only answer you have to give me?" exclaimed Eban, hoarsely. 

"I can say nothing more nor less, " said Nelly, gently. "I am very sorrythat my answer should make you unhappy, but you insisted on having it, and I can say nothing more. "

Eban gazed at her for a moment, and appeared to be about to utter athreat, but he restrained himself, and turning hastily round rushed outof the cottage. 

She was thankful that he had gone, yet a feeling of undefined fear ofwhat he might do in his present angry mood stole over her. She was wellaware of his fierce and daring character, and she had heard from hergranny of desperate deeds done by men whose addresses had been rejectedby girls whom they professed to love. 

She earnestly wished that the dame would soon come back, that she mighttell her what had occurred and consult what was best to be done. 

Had Nelly known what was passing in the dark mind of Eban Cowan shewould indeed have had cause for alarm. 

Instead of going homewards he proceeded down towards the mouth of theharbour. On turning the point he scanned the spot where thefishing-vessels lay at anchor, and observed that the "Sea-Gull, " amongothers, was away. 

"She will be back early to-night, " he muttered, "and Michael will passthis way homeward by himself, but his home he shall never reach, if Ihave my will. I am not going to let him come between me and the girl Ihave all my life intended to marry; he has no right to her: she is toogood for a poor hard-working fisherman like him, and he will make herdrudge all the best days of her life. If he were out of the way shewould soon come round and look on me as she used to do. "

Much more to the same effect he thought, working himself up to do, without compunction, the fearful act he meditated. 

The pathway between the quay at the mouth of the harbour, where thefishing-vessels landed their cargoes, and Michael's house, at one placebetween the cliffs and the water, became so narrow that two people couldwith difficulty pass each other. Close to this spot, however, thereexisted a hollow in the rock, in which a person standing was completelyconcealed, especially on a dark night, when it might be passed bywithout discovering that any one was within. 

Eban Cowan stood for some time watching the distant horizon, and as theevening drew on he observed through the gloom two or three fishing-boatsrunning under close-reefed sails for the harbour's mouth. 

"One of those is the `Sea-Gull'; I must not be seen in theneighbourhood, or I may be suspected, " he muttered, taking his waytowards the lurking-place from which he intended to rush out and committhe crime he meditated. 

Satan, ever ready to encourage those who yield to his instigations, persuaded him that he could do the deed without being discovered, andagain and again he thought of the happiness he should enjoy with thepretty Nelly as his wife, as if the soul guilty of the blood of afellow-creature could ever enjoy happiness!

There he stood listening amid the roar of the fast-rising gale for thestep of his victim. Suddenly he thought--

"But suppose she hates me, I shall have done a deed and gained nothing. She may suspect that I did it. Why did I madly go and see her thisevening? I had not intended to enter the cottage. Had the dame notgone away I should not have thought of it. Still, neither she nor anyone else can swear that I am guilty. No eye will see me. The path isslippery: it will be supposed that he fell into the water. " Then atthat moment a voice seemed to whisper to him the words Michael haduttered long before, "God sees and hears and knows everything we do orsay or think. " It seemed to be that of Michael, "The darkness is nodarkness to Him; the day and night to Him are both alike. "

"Oh, He sees me now; He knows what I am thinking of. "

The strong, daring smuggler trembled. 

"I cannot do it; miserable I may be, but I should be more miserablestill if I had it ever present to my mind that I had killed in coldblood another man who never wished to offend me. "

He rushed from his concealment and threw the weapon he had hithertoclutched in his hand far away into the water. 

He was hurrying homewards, when he heard shouts coming up from theharbour's mouth. He caught the sounds; they were cries, for hands toman a boat. 

Constitutionally brave, he was ready at that moment for any desperateservice. He wanted something to drive away the fearful thoughts whichagitated his mind; he dreaded being left to himself; he must be activelyengaged or he should go mad, if he was not mad already. 

He hurried to the quay, alongside which a boat, kept ready foremergencies, was tossing up and down; she was not a life-boat, but stillone well fitted to encounter heavy seas, and was used to go off tovessels which had got embayed or ran a risk of being driven on shore. 

"I am ready to go off, if you want another hand, " he exclaimed. 

"You will do, and welcome. Our number is now made up, " answered UncleReuben, who was seated in the stern of the boat. 

Eban leaped in. 

"Whereabouts is the vessel in danger?" he asked. "I could not make herout. "

"She is my craft, the `Sea-Gull, '" said Uncle Reuben. "The `Favourite, 'which has just come in, saw her driving, with her mast gone, towards theGull Rock, and if she strikes it there is no chance for her or the poorfellows on board. Lord be merciful to them! we must do our best to tryand save them, for no craft under sail will dare to stand near them, forfear of sharing their fate. "

Eban knew that Michael had gone away in the "Sea-Gull. " Should he riskhis life to try and save that of his rival? He felt inclined to springon shore again. The next instant Uncle Reuben gave the order to get outthe oars. 

Once actively engaged Eban no longer wished to quit the boat, but thewild thought rose in his mind that Michael might be lost, and then, hisrival removed, that Nelly would become his. 

In his selfishness he did not consider the grief she whom he professedto love would suffer; he, at all events, would not have inflicted it. He had not committed the crime he meditated, and yet might gain theobject of his wishes. 

Nelly had been anxiously waiting the return of Dame Lanreath; she wasgreatly agitated by Eban's visit--unable to overcome the fear that hemight do something desperate, but what that might be she could not tell. 

She frequently went to the door to see if her granny was coming. 

The night drew on, the fury of the storm increased. She thought ofMichael on the raging ocean engaged in hauling in his nets. The"Sea-Gull" would surely not remain out long in such weather; thefishing-vessels ought to be back by this time. She longed to run downto the harbour's mouth to ascertain if they had returned; then hergranny might come in, and, finding her gone, not know what had become ofher. The thought, too, that she might meet Eban in his angry moodrestrained her. 

"Oh, what is going to happen?" she exclaimed, feeling more anxiety andalarm than she had ever before experienced. "O my dear, dear Michael, why don't you come back to me? O merciful God, protect him!" She fellon her knees, hiding her face in her hands, and prayed for the safety ofhim who was on the foaming waters. 

She thought she heard her granny coming. She rose from the ground and, going to the door, looked out. No one was there; she heard the roaringof the breakers on the rocky coast, and the fierce wind howling up thewild glen, making the surface of the harbour bubble and hiss and foam, and sending the spray, mingled with the cold night wind, high up, evento where she stood. 

"I must go and learn why he does not come, " she exclaimed. "Oh, how Iwish granny would come back! she may suffer harm coming along the roughpath this bleak night in the dark. "

Poor Nelly felt in truth forlorn; but hers was a brave heart, which afisherman's wife needs must have, or she could not endure the agitatingsuspense to which she must day after day throughout her life he exposed, when the tempest howls and the wild waves roar. She went in and put onher hood and cloak. In vain she strove to restrain her agitation. Again she went to the door. She thought she saw through the thick glooma figure approaching. 

"Is that you, dear granny?" she cried out. 

"Ay, Nelly, though I have had a hard battle with the wind, " answeredDame Lanreath, in her usually cheery voice. "But my journey is ended, and it was well I went to poor Polly Penduck when I did, for she was ina bad way; the doctor, however, has been with her, and she is all rightnow. "

Nelly had run forward to lead her grandmother into the house, and shespoke the latter words on her way. 

"Why, my child, what is the matter with you?" exclaimed the dame, as shesaw her pale and agitated countenance. 

Before Nelly could answer, footsteps were heard outside. She hurriedback to the door. 

"Oh! can it be Michael coming?" exclaimed Nelly. "Michael, Michael, areyou there?"

"No, we be Paul and Joseph Penduck, " answered two young voices. "We areon our way home to mother. "

"Your mother is well and sleeping, but do not make a noise, lads, whenyou go in, " exclaimed Dame Lanreath, who had followed Nelly to the door. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"We needs be to get out of the storm, dame, " answered one of the boys. "Father told us to make haste home; but he has gone off in the `Rescue'with Uncle Reuben Lanaherne to look after the `Sea-Gull, ' which they sayhas lost her mast, and was seen driving on the Gull Rock; there islittle hope of any of the poor lads escaping aboard her. "

"What is that you say, " shrieked poor Nelly; "the `Sea-Gull' driving onshore?"

"I forgot, Mistress Nelly, that Michael Penguyne was aboard her, "answered the thoughtless boy. "I would not have said it to frighten youso, but it may be father and the others will find them if they are notall drowned before they get there. "

"O granny, I was afraid something dreadful was happening, " exclaimedNelly, gasping for breath. "I must go down to the harbour's mouth. Ido not mind the wind and rain; don't stop me, granny, " for Dame Lanreathhad taken Nelly's arm, thinking she was about to fall, she trembled soviolently. "Let me go, granny, that I may hold him in my arms, and warmhim, and breathe into his mouth when he is brought on shore. Oh, Ishall die if I stay at home, and he out struggling maybe for life in thecold foaming seas. "

"But the lads may be mistaken, dear Nelly, " urged Dame Lanreath; "it maynot be the `Sea-Gull' that has met with the damage, and if she hasMichael and the rest, who are stout lads and know how to handle her, they may manage to keep her off the rocks, and get in safenotwithstanding. "

Nelly, however, was not to be reasoned with. She knew the way to theharbour's mouth in the darkest night as well as by daylight; the rainand wind were nothing to her, and if Michael had got safe on shore heranxiety would the sooner be set at rest, and she should be ready towelcome him. 

The dame, finding that she could not persuade Nelly to remain at home, insisted on accompanying her, for though she had tried to make herbelieve that Michael would return in safety, she herself could not helpentertaining the fear that he had shared the fate of the many she hadknown in her time who had lost their lives on the treacherous ocean. 

Nelly was not selfish, and though she felt that she must go forth, shewas anxious that her granny should not again face the cruel storm. Thedame, however, was determined to go, for she felt scarcely less anxietythan Nelly. 

"Well, Nelly, " she said at length, "if you won't let me go with you, Iwill just go by myself, and you must stay at home till I come back andtell you that Michael has got on shore all safe. "

Nelly yielded. She and the dame set off. 

They had a fierce battle to fight with the storm, which blew directly intheir faces. They worked their way onwards, holding their cloaks tightround them. 

They at last reached the rocky point where, by the light of the beacon, they saw a group of men and women and boys and girls collected, withtheir gaze turned seaward, waiting anxiously for the appearance of theboat which had gone out over the dark and troubled ocean in search oftheir missing friends. 

The dame and Nelly anxiously inquired what had happened. The answermade their hearts sink: the "Sea-Gull" had last been seen drivingtowards the rocks in an almost helpless condition; she might drop ananchor, but there was little expectation that it would hold. The onlyhope was that she might be reached before she was finally dashed topieces, and those on board her had perished. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

The "Rescue" gallantly made her way amid the dark foam-crested seas, which rolled in from the westward, each appearing heavier than itspredecessor. 

Uncle Reuben kept gazing out ahead in anxious search of his littlevessel, now encouraging his crew with the hopes that they would soonreach the spot which she must have reached, feeling his own heart, however, sink within him as he sought in vain to find her across thewildly tossing waters. The men needed no encouragement: they knew aswell as he did that every moment was precious, and yet that after allthey might arrive too late. Eban pulled as hard as the rest; he woulddo his utmost to save the crew of the "Sea-Gull, " yet he darkly hopedthat their efforts might be vain. 

On they pulled; often Reuben had to turn the boat's head to breast athreatening sea which, caught on the broadside, might have hurled herover. Now again he urged his crew to redoubled efforts during atemporary lull. 

For some time he had been silent, keeping his eye on a dark spot ahead. It must be the "Sea-Gull. " She was already fearfully near the rocks. The water there was too deep to allow her anchor to hold long, ifholding it was at all. Another fierce wave came rolling towards them. Eager as Uncle Reuben was to make his way onward, he was compelled toput the boat's head towards it, and to give all his attention to avoidbeing buried beneath the foaming billows. The boat rose safely to itssummit. A glance seaward told him that now was the time once more tomake way to the south. He looked eagerly for his little vessel; thesame sea had struck her. He caught but one glimpse of her hull as shewas dashed helplessly against the rocks. Still some of those on boardmight escape. Every effort must be made to save them. Though Reubentold his crew what had happened, none hesitated to pull on. 

The boat approached the rock, her crew shouted to encourage those whomight be clinging to it. 

The "Sea-Gull" had struck on the northernmost point, within which thesea, though surging and boiling, was comparatively quiet; and Reuben wasthus enabled to get nearer to the rock than he could have ventured to doon the outside, where it broke with a fury which would quickly haveoverwhelmed the boat. 

Two men were distinguished through the gloom clinging to the rock, atthe foot of which fragments of the hapless "Sea-Gull" were tossing upand down in the foaming waves. Another sea such as that which wreckedtheir vessel might at any moment wash the men from their hold. A ropewas hove to them, they fastened it round their waists and were draggedon board. They proved to be Reuben's two sons. 

The father's heart was relieved, but he thought of his brave youngcaptain. 

"Where is Michael, where are the rest?" he exclaimed. 

"Gone, gone, father, I fear!" was the answer. 

"No, no! I see two more clinging to a spar!" shouted one of the men. "The sea is carrying it away, but the next will hurl it back on therocks, and Heaven protect them, for the life will be knocked out oftheir bodies. "

To approach the spot in the boat, however, was impossible without thecertainty of her being dashed to pieces. 

"Here, hand the bight of the rope to me, " shouted Eban, starting up; "Iam the best swimmer among you--if any one can save them I can. "

As he uttered the words he sprang overboard, and with powerful strokesmade his way towards the drowning men, while the rest, pulling hard, kept the boat off the rocks, to which she was perilously near. 

"Here, here, take him, he is almost gone, " said one of the men in thewater, as Eban approached them. "I can hold on longer. "

Eban, grasping the man round the waist and shouting to those in theboat, was hauled up to her stern with his burden. Reuben, assisted bythe man pulling the stroke oar, lifted the rescued man into the boat, and Eban once more dashed off to try and save the other. 

"Who is it? who is it?" asked the crew, with one voice, for the darknessprevented them from distinguishing his countenance. 

No one replied. Reuben hoped it might be Michael--but all his attentionwas required for the management of the boat, and the rescued man, exhausted, if not severely injured, was unable to reply himself. 

Eban was gallantly striking out towards the man who still clung to thespar, but he had miscalculated his strength--he made less rapid way thanat first. A cry reached him, "Help, mate! help!" He redoubled hisefforts; but before he could reach the spot he saw a hand raised up, andas he grasped the spar he found that it was deserted. The brave fellow, whoever he was, had sacrificed his own life to save that of his drowningcompanion. 

Eban, feeling that his own strength was going, shouted to those in theboat to haul him on board, and he was himself well-nigh exhausted whenlifted over the side. One of Reuben's sons took his oar. 

All further search for their missing friends proved in vain, and thoughthankful that some had been saved, with sad hearts they commenced theirperilous return to the harbour. 

Reuben's younger son, Simon Lanaherne, had gone aft and sat down by theside of the rescued man. 

"He is coming to, I believe. "

"Which of the poor lads is he, Simon?" asked his father. 

Simon felt the man's face and dress, bending his head down to try andscan his features. 

"I cannot quite make out; but I am nearly sure it is Michael Penguyne, "answered Simon. 

"I am main glad if it be he, for poor Nelly's sake, " said Reuben. "Pullup your starboard oars, lads, here comes a sea, " he shouted, and atremendous wave came curling up from the westward. 

The attention of every one was engaged in encountering the threateneddanger. 

"Michael Penguyne! have I saved him?" muttered Eban Cowan, with a deepgroan. "He was destined to live through all dangers, then, and Nelly islost to me. Fool that I was to risk my life when I might have lot himdrown. No one could have said that I was guilty of his death. "

Human ear did not listen to the words he uttered, and a voice came tohim, "You would have been guilty of his death if you could have savedhim and would not. "

He had recovered sufficiently to sit up, and, as he gazed at the angrysea around, his experienced eye told him that even now he and all withhim might be engulfed beneath it ere they could reach the shore. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nelly and her grandmother stood with the group of anxious watchers nearthe beacon-fire, straining their eyes in a vain endeavour to pierce thegloom which hung over the ocean. They could hear the sea's savage roaras it lashed the rocks at their feet and sent the spray flying overthem; but they could only see the white crests of the waves as they roseand fell, and every instant it seemed to their loving hearts that thesefierce waves came in with greater force than heretofore. 

Could the "Rescue, " stout and well-formed as she was, live amid thatfierce tumult of waters? Might not those who had bravely gone forth tosave their fellow-creatures, too probably perish with them?

Still, notwithstanding their fears, they listened hoping to hear the crywhich those in the boat would raise as they drew near the shore, shouldsuccess have attended their efforts. Again and again they asked eachother, if the boat would not now be returning? Oh! how long the timeseemed since they went away! A short half-hour had often sufficed to goto the Gull Rock and back. An hour or more had elapsed since the"Rescue" left the harbour, and no sign of her could be discerned. 

"We must take into account the heavy seas she will have to meet; theywill keep her busy for a goodish time with her bows towards them, "observed an old fisherman. "Uncle Reuben knows what he is about, and ifthere is a man can steer the `Rescue' on a night like this he can. Aworse sea, in which a boat might live, I never saw. There is littlelikelihood of its getting better either, by the look of the sky. "

The last remark was not encouraging; still, while a possibility remainedof the return of the boat, none among the anxious group would, in spiteof the rain and spray and fierce wind, leave the point. 

At length a sharp-eyed youngster darted forward to the extreme end ofthe rock, at the risk of being washed off by the next breaker whichdashed against it. 

"I see her! I see her!" he shouted. 

There was a rush forward. Dame Lanreath held her granddaughter back. 

"You cannot bring them in sooner, Nelly, " she said, "and, my child, prepare your heart for what God may have ordered. Seek for strength, Nelly, to be able to say, `Thy will be done!'"

"I am trying, " groaned Nelly; "but O granny, why do you say that?"

"It is better to be prepared for bad tidings before they come, " answeredthe dame; "but it maybe that God has willed that Michael should besaved, and so let us be ready with a grateful heart to welcome him; butwhichever way it is, remember that it is for the best. "

The dame herself, notwithstanding what she said, felt her own heartdepressed. 

A simultaneous shout arose from the men and boys who had gone to the endof the point. 

"The boat! the boat! It is her, no doubt about it, " they cried out, andthen most of them hurried away to the landing-place to welcome theirfriends and assist them on shore. 

The dame and Nelly followed them. Some still remained at the point, knowing that there was yet another danger to be passed at the veryentrance of the harbour, for a cross sea breaking at its mouth mighthurl the boat, in spite of the efforts of the rowers, against the rocks, and those who had toiled so long, worn out with fatigue, would requireassistance, for, unaided, their lives might be lost. 

As the boat drew near her crew raised a shout in return to the greeting, of their friends. Perfect silence followed as the "Rescue" neared thedangerous point. In an instant it was passed, though a sea breakingover her deluged the crew. 

"Are they all saved?" shouted several voices. 

"Some, but not all; but our boys are here: tell my dame, " shouted Reubenas the boat glided by. 

Nelly heard the answer. With trembling knees she stood on thelanding-place supported by Dame Lanreath, while the light of severallanterns fell on the boat and the figures of those in her as she camealongside. 

Eager hands were ready to help the well-nigh exhausted crew on shore. Nelly tried to distinguish the countenances of the men--the lightfalling on her pale face as she stooped over. 

"He is here, Nelly; Michael is safe, " cried Uncle Reuben, and Simon, with two or three others, speedily assisted Michael on shore. 

Nelly, regardless of those around, threw her arms round his neck, andkissed his lips and cheeks, while the dame with others helped him tomove away from the quay. 

"I shall soon be strong again, Nelly, " he whispered. "God be praisedfor His mercies to us. My sorest thought was, as I felt myself in thebreakers, that you and granny would be left without me to help you. "

At the moment that Nelly's arms were about her betrothed, a man in theboat, refusing the aid of others, sprang on shore. As he passed, DameLanreath caught a glimpse of the haggard features of Eban Cowan. Herushed on without stopping to receive the greetings of any of thosegathered on the quay, and was quickly lost to sight as he made his wayup the glen. 

"Eban seems in a strange mood, " observed Simon. "He might have stoppedtill Michael and all of us had thanked him for his brave act; he seemsas if he was sorry he had done it, or was wishing that he was with theother poor fellows who are lying out there among the rocks. "

Michael was too weak to walk. Uncle Reuben invited him to come to hiscottage; but he wished to return home, and there was no lack of willingarms to carry him. 

"Where is David Treloar?" he asked. "If it had not been for him Ishould have been washed off the spar, but he held me on till I washauled on board. "

"David! poor fellow! he is among those who are gone, " was the answer. "If it was he who was on the spar with you, he would not, it seems, quitit till he thought you were safe; and meantime his strength must havegone before help could reach him. "

"Then he lost his life to save mine, " said Michael, deeply grieved. "And how was I saved?"

"By that brave fellow, Eban Cowan, who jumped overboard, and brought youon board, " answered Uncle Reuben. 

"Where is he, that I may shake him by the hand, and thank him?" inquiredMichael; but Eban was not to be found. 

Michael hoped the next morning to be able to go to the mill and thankEban. 

Nelly wondered at what she heard, recollecting Eban's visit to her a fewhours before; but she said nothing. Indeed, by that time, with a sail, a litter had been rigged, on which his friends carried Michael to hiscottage, Dame Lanreath and Nelly following them. 

The rest of the population of the village hastened to their homes, several with hearts grieving for those who had been lost. They did not, however, find any lack of friends to comfort them--for all couldsympathise where all knew that the like misfortune might some day happento themselves. Uncle Reuben, too, had ample cause for grief. Thelittle vessel on which he depended for the subsistence of his family hadgone to pieces, and it would be a hard matter to obtain another. Andhonest David and the other lads in whom he was interested were gone; buthis young boys were saved, and he felt thankful for the mercies grantedhim. 

Michael, carefully watched over by Nelly, and doctored by the dame, soonrecovered his strength. As soon as he was strong enough, he told Nellythat he must go and tell Eban how thankful he was to him for saving hislife. 

Nelly, on this, gave him an account of what had occurred on thateventful evening of the wreck. He was greatly astonished. 

"But he is a brave fellow, Nelly; and though I cannot say what I shouldhave been ready to do to him had I known it before, yet he saved mylife, and risked his to do so, and I must not forget that. I mustforget all else, and go and thank him heartily. "

"Go, Michael, " said Nelly, "and tell him that I bless him from my heart, and wish him every happiness; but do not ask him to come here. It isbetter for his sake he should not be seeing me and fancying that I canever care for him. "

Michael promised to behave discreetly in the matter, and set off. 

The heavy gale was still blowing. He wondered as he went along how thepath was so much steeper and rougher than it used to be, not aware howgreatly his strength had decreased. 

On reaching the mill he saw old Cowan standing at the door. He inquiredfor Eban. 

"Where is he? That's more than I can tell you, lad, " he answered. "Hewent away the other evening and has not since come back. I do notinquire after his movements, and so I suppose it is all right. "

Michael then told the old man of the service his son had rendered him. 

"Glad he saved thy life, lad; he is a brave fellow, no doubt of that;but it is strange that he should not have come in to have his clothesdried and get some rest. "

None of the household could give any further account of Eban. 

Michael, again expressing such thanks as his heart prompted, returnedhome. 

Several days passed and rumours came that Eban had been seen on the wayto Falmouth: and his father, who had become anxious about him, settingoff, discovered that he had gone on board a large ship which had put inthere to seek shelter from the gale. He had left no message, and noletter was received by any of his family to say why he had gone, or whatwere his intentions for the future. 

During the winter two or three seizures of smuggled goods were made;they belonged to the band of which Eban was supposed to have been theleader: and old Cowan, whose venture it was known they were, becamegradually downcast and desponding. His fishing-boats were unsuccessful;he offered one for sale, which Uncle Reuben and Michael purchasedbetween them; another was lost; and, his mill being burned down, he diedsoon afterwards broken-hearted, leaving his family in utter destitution. 

In the spring Michael and Nelly married. The wedding, if not a very gayone, was the merriest which had occurred in the village for many a day, nor were any of the usual customs in that part of Cornwall omitted. 

Dame Lanreath declared that she felt younger than she had been for thelast ten years, or twenty for that matter, and Uncle Reuben hadrecovered from his rheumatism with the warm spring weather. Thepilchard harvest in that year was unusually early and abundant, andMichael was able to increase the size of his house and improve itsappearance, while he gave his young wife many comforts, which hedeclared no one so well deserved. No one disputed the point; indeed, all agreed that a finer and happier young couple was not to be foundalong the Cornish coast. 

They were grateful to God for the happiness they enjoyed, and while theyprayed that it might be prolonged, and that their lives might be spared, they did not forget that He Who had the power to give had the right totake away. But, trusting to His mercy and loving-kindness, they hopedthat He would think fit to protect them during their lives on earth, while they could with confidence look forward to that glorious futurewhere there will be no more sorrow and no more parting. 

THE END.