ii
^
MR. ENDICOTT PUT ON HIS GOLD-RIMMED GLASSES, AND SURVEYED HER.
See page 13.
A DAUGHTER
OF THE SEA
Amy Le Feuvre
Author of " Heather's Mistress," " Probable
Sons," etc.
NEW YORK
€1)oma0 f . CrotocH d Co.
Publishers
CopYBiGHT, 1 90 1 and 1902, by
Amy LeFeuvrb.
Copyright, 1902, by
Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.
CONTENTS.
Chapter. Page.
I. Perrancove Towers i
II. Una Cartaret 15
III. A Strange Proposition 31
IV. Betrothed 41
V. Rescued from a Wreck 55
VI. United Hands 67
VII. The Treasure of the Witches' Hole. . 80
VIII. A Visitor 93
IX. A Fisher's Bride 105
X. Husbands and Wives 1 19
XI. Incapacitated 132
XII. Cuthbert's Awakening 145
XIII. Baulked of their Prey i.S'^
XIV. The Departure of the Flying Gull . . i/r
XV. An Unexpected Arrival 1 84
XVI. The Floating Spar 197
XVII. A Dark Time 209
XVIII. A Plot 221
XIX. Dark Deeds 234
XX. The New Rector 248
XXI. Martin's Confession 262
XXII. The Return 278
XXIII. Cuthbert's Story 293
VI
A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
Chapter. Page.
XXIV. Dangerous Work 306
XXV. Misunderstandings 321
XXVI. A Noble Venture 334
XXVII. Una's Appeal 346
XXVIII. The Fishers' Response 360
CHAPTER I.
PERRANCOVE TOWERS
" And sudden close before them showed
His towers. . .
Broad, massive, high, and stretching far,
And held impregnable in war.
On a projecting rock they rose.
And round three sides, the ocean flows."
Marviion.
Kingstawton was at its very sleepiest stage. It was
three o'clock on a blazing August afternoon many
years ago.
Heat simmered in the air amongst the green mead-
ows. Red Devonshire kine lay under the old elms,
or stood ankle-deep in the stream flowing smoothly
by. The road outside the "Stag's Head" was deserted ;
only a sandy mongrel lay half asleep under the wooden
seat of the old inn porch. He looked, with his tongue
hanging out, as if he were at the last stage of exhaus-
tion ; but when the horn of the distant coach sounded,
he bounded to his feet and stood in an instant erect
and alert. A good shake of his wiry body, a deep
bark, and life began to dawn around the "Stag's
Head." An ostler struggled into his coat, and came
out, rubbing his eyes after his afternoon nap ; the land-
lord, with an ill-concealed yawn, planted himself with
009,Q0^^1
2 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
some dignity in his porch. Two old rustics came
hobbling- out of the bar ; one to go on to the next village
with some dairy produce for a customer, the other in
hopes of earning a few pence by carrying parcels for
a possible passenger. A few minutes later and the
coach appeared. Only two passengers alighted, but
these caused considerable commotion by the amount of
baggage that belonged to them, and the landlord
seemed perturbed and uneasy at the sight of them.
The travellers were both men ; one considerably
older than the other, but both had that bronzed
weather-beaten appearance, that carelessness in dress,
•that betokened foreign wanderings, and their baggage
was of all shapes and sizes.
The landlord stepped up to them respectfully.
"Glad to see you back, sir. We heard you were
coming, but did not think it would be to-day. No
carriage is here. Will you have ordered it, sir?"
The elder of the two men, whose hair was plenti-
fully besprinkled with grey, and whose face was a
keen resolute one, with perhaps a little cynicism
discernible in the thin cleanly-shaven lips, turned
round carelessly.
"Good-day, Somers. Hope you and your family
are well. Carriage? No, I have ordered none. I
have come down sooner than I thought. We must
borrow a trap from you. Do not tell me you have
none in, for custom is never brisk in these parts !
And give us a good horse, for we want a rest badly,
and must be home before nightfall. Do not keep us
PERRANCOVE TOWERS 3
waiting longer than you can help, there is a good
fellow."
The landlord disappeared, and the old rustic hobbled
after him, muttering as he did so —
"Ay, Mr. Endicott do wear well to be sure! 'Tis
ten year come Monday nex' that he went off on his
travel to them haythen parts, and his voice do seem
as hearty as ever !"
Mr. Endicott had by this time seated himself on
the shady wooden bench ; his companion, a broad-
shouldered, long-limbed man, with crisp brown hair,
and thick moustache, was still occupied in superin-
tending the disbursement of the luggage.
He came up in a minute, looking tired and heated.
"What a sweltering little place, Endicott ! No wonder
these poor beggars take their time over putting out
their hand to anything!"
Mr. Endicott stretched out his legs, and pulling
a pipe out of his pocket commenced to fill and
light it.
"This is the land of leisure," he said, looking at the
impatience of his friend with an amused smile. "If
we start on our way from here in an hour's time, we
may think ourselves fortunate."
"It is a comfort your's is a bachelor's establish-
ment," said Cuthbert Gregson, following Mr.
Endicott's example, and smoking as vigorously as
his elder was lazily.
There was silence for a minute. Mr. Endicott
looked away over the sunn}- meadows with a dreamy
absent gaze; then he said sudrlenlv —
4 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
"Perhaps you will not find it such bachelor
quarters as you imagine, Cuthbert. My sister keeps
house for me."
"You have never mentioned her."
"No; I am not one to talk of my belongings. She
is all I have left, and is a good soul. She has been
taking charge of a child ward of mine ; the daughter
of a first cousin who used to be much to me when I
was young, but she married a man I could not stand,
and it was only at her dying request I promised to
bring up her daughter as my own."
"And what age is this young lady now?" asked
Cuthbert, a blank look of dismay crossing his face.
"Oh! just a child; a wild little harum-scarum when
I left ; but I am experimenting on her. She has been
left to grow as nature intends. My sister is not one
to form or restrain; I have forbidden it. Do you
believe in the laws of heredity?"
"I haven't given the matter much thought. I->^
rather think I do."
"Her father," said Mr. Endicott slowly and
thoughtfully, "was a frank generous hot-tempered
thorough-going scamp. Weak as to virtues, strong as to
vice, and yet kind-hearted with it all. Her mother had
an ice-cold, Puritan nature ; no heart, and more brains
than a woman ought to have. I am curious to see
how the child will develop, and that is why I v/ould
not make my will last week as you urged. I doubt
if she is old enough to be sufficiently formed; and
my will must wait. I intend her to have my property,
PERRANCOVE TOWERS 5
if she will be capable of managing it wisely, if not
I have other intentions."
"And your sister?" Cuthbcrt could not refrain from
asking.
He had known Mr. Endicott for the last five years.
They had travelled together through mountains and
wilds. At the peril of his own life the elder man had
rescued the younger from a cruel death at the hands
of a savage hill-tribe, amongst whom he had fallen.
Their friendship deepened as time went on. Both
were lonely men with no home ties ; both were fond
of intellectual research ; and were reserved and silent
by nature. Through the live years of their daily
intercourse, Mr. Endicott had never confided as much
of his home life as he was now doing on the wooden
bench outside the "Stag's Head." Cuthbert listened
and wondered, and yet understood, how the old asso-
ciations of the place could unlock the most silent
tongue. There were other reasons too that perhaps
had helped to rouse Mr. Endicott from his usual
taciturnity. He had come home in ill health, and
had been in the hands of a London doctor. Specialists
at this time were very rare, but the doctor was a clever
one, and he had to break the tidings to his patient
that his case was incurable, and that in all human
probability he had only a few months to live. Such
tidings must at all times be a shock to the calmest
and most phlegmatic temperament. ^Ir. Endicott
received them quietly and said little, but he thought
much. He was now "travelling home to die," as he
6 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
put it to his friend, and the only words tliat Cuthbert
said to him were —
"I \v\\\ stay with you as long as you ^vant me."
"My sister," repeated Mr. Endicott. in reply to
Cuthbert 's question. 'Oh, she has money and a
house of her own in the North. She would not thank
me for bequeathing her Perrancove. These last
ten years have been years of self-denial to her, I fear.
Its wildness does not suit her gentle nature."
Cuthbert said no more. They sat on and smoked.
and at length a hea\y. lumbering trap appeared, their
luggage was stowed away in the back, and they set
off for a good two hours' drive.
Through shady Devonshire lanes, with high ferny
banks on either side, up and down hill, across a bit of
wild moorland where the salt scent of the sea for the
first time met them, and then the coimtr}' grew more
\\-ild and bare and less wooded.
"We are getting close to the Cornish coast," said
Mr. Endicott. "My place is more than half on
Cornish soil, though we call ourselves Devon.''
After a steep ascent -with the blue ocean on tlie
right, they at length stopped before some heavy iron
gates. A short avenue of rather stunted oaks led
them up to an old grey stone house, a building which
seemed to def}- the raging elements that so often
threatened to sweep it into the ocean below. On one
side the rockv- cKff on which it was built descended
precipitously to the sea some hundreds of feet
beneath, whilst an i\y-covered turret stood up stur-
PERRAXCO\'E TOWERS 7
dily like a weather-beaten sentinel, and seemed to
shelter the rest of the house from the windy quarter.
Green turf, and a few^ bright flower-beds before the
massive front door somewhat softened the sombre
ruggedness of Perrancove Towers. In the golden
afternoon sunshine it looked a pleasant spot"; but
Cuthbert found himself wondering if its aspect would
be as cheerful in the grey dark days of winter, and
he shuddered at the thought.
A large rough hound sprang forward with a deep
bark as the trap came to a standstill ; and a ven.' old
man opening the door rather hastily, seemed quite
overcome at the sight of his master.
"You didn't expect me so soon," said Mr. Endicott,
holding out his hand kindly to his old ser\'ant. "Why,
Baldwin, be a man ! Do you think you see a ghost?"
"W^hist, master, I do be brave glad to see 'ee back
to the place agen; but I've had dreams three nights
a-runnin' that I shouldn't like to utter."
Mr. Endicott passed him by a little impatiently;
and a shadow seemed to fall on his face.
"Come, Cuthbert," he said: "I will introduce you
to my sister. I know where to find her."
He led the way through a dark square hall past a
stone staircase, and pushing aside a hea\y curtain at
the farther end of it. opened a door, and Cuthbert
found himself in a quaint oak room with stained
windows. A small frail-looking little woman, with
white hair, rose with tremulous dignity to receive
them. She was working at a round table in a deep
S A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
window recess, and the sun streaming through a
yellow pane of glass above her, illuminated her with
a golden radiance.
Very quiet was the greeting between her and her
brother. Nothing ever ruffled Miss Endicott's serene
composure. She lived in an atmosphere of her own,
and if difficulties barred her path, she quietly glided
round them, leaving others to settle and solve them.
"This is a surprise, George ! I did not think you
would be with us till next week. How are you?"
"Rather tired with the heat of the midday journey,"
said Mr. Endicott. "Now, Matilda, let me introduce
Mr. Gregson to you, of whom you have heard, but
never seen."
"I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,"
Miss Endicott said, with a graceful little curtsey.
"And where is the child?" inquired Mr. Endicott,
after some further conversation.
"Out of doors. She is rarely in. You will find
her grow^n, George."
A short time afterwards, Cuthbert was taking a
stroll through the grounds. A keen sea-breeze was
blowing inland ; he felt the salt spray on his cheeks
as he walked, and the break of the waves against the
rocks below almost tired him with its obtrusive
roar. From the upper terrace of turf and flowers he
descended some old stone steps to a sheltered kitchen
garden, where, in spite of salt breezes, the vegetables
and fruit seemed to thrive. An old oak door studded
with iron nails, and fullv two feet thick, led through
PERRANCOVE TOWERS 9
the grey stone wall surrounding it, down a winding
path along the cliff, and as he sauntered leisurely
down, voices from below arrested his attention.
"Peter Trevannon, you ought to be ashamed of
yourself! Give the poor thing to me this minute!"
"'Twasn't I that caught 'un. Missy; 'twas David
Shelly, an' he knows how to zet his legs a-runnin'
afore you'm in zight. Her leg be right broken, zo
it be. 'Tis a puzzlement zurely what I'll be doin'
with 'un."
"Give her to me, and I'll mend her leg, and see
that she goes back to her nest again ; and if either of
you boys dare to climb up this part of the cliff again,
I'll — I'll prosecute you!"
A minute after, and Cuthbert was face to face
with a young girl, who came hastily and breathlessly
up the path, carrying a struggling seagull in her arms.
He knew instinctively who it was. The clear, fresh
young voice, the upright carriage, and proud little
poise of the head, proclaimed Una Carteret to be a
thorough little gentlewoman. She was in the shab-
biest attire. The stained and torn blue serge dress
reaching only to her ankles, and the faded blue worsted
cap on her head, and the stout nail boots on her feet,
might have belonged to the roughest fisher-girl. Yet
Una's strong personality claimed attention before
her clothes. Her slender little figure had a sturdi-
ness and resolute intrepidity about it that was almost
boyish. Her small oval face, with its clear rosy com-
plexion, and soft dark-grey eyes, fringed by heavy
lo A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
black lashes, was an attractive one, from the frank,
guileless look of fresh innocence about it; but even
in the short moment of time that Cuthbert let his
eyes rest on her, he noted the strength of will and
purpose that characterised her little mouth and chin.
Her bright brown hair was flowing in the wind, and
he noted with amusement that her first instinct on
seeing him was to raise her hand to her head, and
hastily try to confine it in the coils from which it had
escaped. She looked up at him in pretty confusion.
"Can you be my guardian, Mr. Endicott?" she
asked. "You must have come before your time."
Cuthbert smiled and shook his head.
"He is in the house. I am his friend."
"Oh, Mr. Gregson. I have heard about you. I
can't make my curtsey, for this poor gull is suffering
so. Those wretched boys have found her nest, and
stoned her out of it, and lamed her. Are you good
at doctoring? Will you help me? I'm afraid her
leg is broken."
Cuthbert took the wounded bird in his hand and
looked at it gravely.
"Yes, I think I can set it," he said.
"Come this way quickly, for if Mr. Endicott is
here I ought to make myself tidy for him, only I
cannot leave the poor thing in its misery. I will take
you to my room; you must not mind its untidiness."
She led the way with rapid steps through the
kitchen garden, and then taking a path almost over-
PERRANCOVE TOWERS ii
grown with shrubs and rank grass, came to a standstill
before one of the old stone turrets of the house.
She thrust open a door, and Cuthbert, following
her, found himself in a strange room for a girl of that
period. There was a thick matting over the floor ;
at one end was a carpenter's bench with its tools.
On a sheepskin beside it lay a sleek greyhound, who
rose to his feet and regarded the stranger with
suspicion in his soft eyes. A bookcase stood against
one wall, a large cage of doves against the other.
Upon a square table in the center of the room was a
workbasket with needlework, a plate of fruit, and
a case of trout and salmon flies. Fishing rods, a
shrimping net, and a small rifle adorned one wall,
and on the floor near the carpenter's bench was the
framework of a small boat. With the exception of
the basket of needlework, the room was hardly fitted
up as a young lady's sanctum. It was long before
our present-century girls had proclaimed such boyish
proclivities, and Cuthbert Gregson looked and
wondered.
Una was hastily opening a small cupboard, and
producing rag and ointment.
"The skin is scratched and broken," she announced.
"This is my surgical cupboard. I doctor all the
animals here. You will want some splints. T will
get them ready."
For the next ten minutes or so they were very
busy with the wounded gull. When the broken leg
had been successfully set, Una produced an old
12 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
wooden cage from a corner and popped ti'ie bird
into it.
"The last inmate was a white owl with a broken
wing," she said. *T call this cage my hospital. Now
T will give her something to eat, and then she must
stay there till to-morrow."
"You are a young lady with varied pursuits," said
Cuthbert, looking round the room.
"Yes," she said carelessly. "I always find plenty
to do."
Then, a spark of pride kindling her eyes, she
pointed to the boat.
"I hr -e made every bit of that myself, and I mean
to finisn it alone. Tom Tanner helped me with
one, but I'm determined to have no help with
this."
"You're an uncommon good hand at it, I should
say," said Cuthbert, regarding her handiwork with
interest.
"We must go," she said a little imperatively.
"Miss Endicott will be wanting me."
She opened another door which led into the
entrance hall, then sped away up the stone stairs,
and Cuthbert did not see her till dinner time. Dinner
was at six, and when I"na came in shyly and quietly
behind Miss Endicott, and was introduced to her
guardian, Cuthbert looked at her in wonder.
She was dressed in the fashion of the day, with low
neck and short sleeves. Her gown of dark blue
velvet touched the ground, old point lace adorning
PERRANCOVE TOWERS i
o
neck and shoulders. Her brown hair was caught up
with a string of pearls, and the roughly-clad fisher-
maiden was metamorphosed into a sweet and gracious
little princess.
Mr. Endicott put on his gold-rimmed glasses, and
surveyed her in perplexity,
"This is not Una?" he questioned.
"Yes," Miss Endicott replied. "As you see, she
is a child no longer. Her birthday was last month.
She came of age then."
"The child twenty-one!" Mr. Endicott exclaimed
in a dazed fashion. "I have been dreaming indeed."
Una looked ^ at her guardian with a sparkle of
mischief in her eye, then she dropped him a demure
curtsey.
He took her by the hand and drew her gently to
him. Then, with lowered eyebrows, he put one hand
under her chin, and turned her face up to him.
.Una met his dark frowning gaze with steady
frankness.
"A child no longer," he repeated in a murmur to
himself.
"But if T may speak, sir, I do not feel at all grown
up. It is only a question of clothes ; and this attire
always wearies me. H it is not pleasing to you
I will gladly change it for short petticoats. May
I do so?"
"Una, be discreet and quiet !" said Miss Endicott in
warning tones. "Dinner is served. Let us come into
the dining-room."
14 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
Mr. Endicott offered his arm to his sister, Cuthbert
did the same to Una, and conversation flowed on
evenly at the dinner-table, personal topics not bein£!^
touched upon aj^ain. Yet every now and then a low
murmur would escape the lips of Una's guardian.
"A child no longer! I have been dreaming!"
CHAPTER II.
UNA CARTERET
'An open-hearted maiden, true and pure."
The Princess.
The next morning Una was summoned to her guard-
ian's presence in the old library.
As Mr. Endicott leant back in his black oak chair,
surrounded by books, the duskiness and sombre
furniture of the room seemed in fit keeping with his
mood.
His face was lined and worn. Suffering and anxi-
ety had accentuated the stcrncss of his rugged fea-
tures, but had not dimmed the eagle glance, the keen
flash in his dark eyes.
When Una tripped in, the personification of youth-
ful freshness and beauty, the contrast seemed to
strike him.
"She is on the threshold of life — just stepping over
it — I am leaving it, and am stepping over another
and darker threshold. Would I change places? I
think, on the whole, I would not."
Then with a cynical smile on his lips he proceeded
to put his ward through rather a strange catechism.
"I know nothing about you," he commenced
abruptly. "Sit down and listen to me. I have, for
i6 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
reasons of my own, allowed you to grow up abso-
lutely unchecked and unfettered in your young life.
What pursuits you have chosen you have been allowed
to follow without any hindrance. We are naturally
isolated here, for we have never entertained, and there
is no society within reach of us. I conclude you have
no friends of your own class. You have had to form
your own ideas and gain your own experience. My
sister has carried out my instructions, and has not
interfered with you. She tells me the old vicar and
she have educated you between them. That is to say,
they have given you the orthodox teaching that girls
are supposed to need to make them good and capable
housewives. Barring this, you have been allowed to
go your own way. Am I correct in these state-
ments?"
Una sat looking at her guardian with a little wrinkle
of perplexity and awe between her eyes. His con-
cluding question was put so sharply that she started,
then replied composedly —
"Yes, sir."
"Now give me your undivided attention. I wish
to know a few things about you, and my sister sug-
gests that you can tell me better than she can. What
are your favorite pursuits?"
"Do you mean, wdiat do I like doing best? I think
rowing and making boats."
Mr. Endicott elevated his eyebrows, then took a
note-book out of his pocket and jotted down this
answer.
UNA CARTERET 17
"Have you any other likings?"
"Oh, yes, a great many. I think," the girl went on,
looking up at her gaurdian with a winning smile,
"I like everybody and everything except cruelty and
lies."
"And what do you fear? Young girls are full of
fears, I believe."
Una knitted her brows, then again raised her eyes
and there was a proud light in them as she replied —
"I am afraid of no one — I fear nothing."
Mr. Endicott gazed at her contemplatively.
"What are your ideas of life — its pleasures — its
duties? Do you ever think at all?"
Una met the mocking gleam in her guardian's eye
with a twinkle in her own.
"It wants thought to answer these questions. Life
to me is delightful. Summer brings pleasure, winter
duty. At least, I think it seems so to me. In winter
I have to be indoors sewing with Miss Endicott. read-
ing aloud, and listening to the storms she does not
like me to be out in. But summer brings me perfect
liberty. I love it."
"Life begins and ends with self." murmured Mr.
Endicott, jotting that conclusion down in his note-
book.
Una caught the words, and looked a little startled.
"And your opinion of your fellow-creatures — your
dependence on them, or independence of them?"
"I think," said Una slowly and thoughtfully; "that
I like men better than women ; they do things straight
2
i8 A DAUGHTER OF THE SE.\
away \k-itJa r«? fear?, and ihey uke the things I do. and
Mast of my best friends are men."
..-5 :_-;:■- staterrient startled Mr. Endicott in his
uim.
•W"h^: .::: :f ~rr^~
~Oh, zl- There are no others in the
village, i >;a:c - : -Je a rr..en. but there is only
one girl that is 2s:\ c K^ihie Pethenck and I
broc^ixt in one of the ir:'-i.:?c> thai got adrift in the
teeth of a gale. She " ' - vving race one day.
I beat her. She ha^ . :Ie. but nothing to
TTTTTie- Kiihie live? ,. "Other, and has
a boat of ber own. 1 .ixe c,_ l\-ri, Petherick- Xext
ro roen I like '- z-i then dnldren- The old
p»er'' - -- - . ,rrj ,.ell in onr village. \\"hai
tbcj ^ri ^.il;: "-: r-f ' :- = i upwi as burdens
even by their ch -Tc::.
"Yon believe •" ' ^^t " > r^rer.:??"
"Yes; ics- evei .: :- — >e'.ve> to death
:-•- -^ cniy of riseir c_„.Lj:c:i lo .- :.:':er thena. I
"~ "^"■---^ ----- -.T^ ye
Again a sullen murmur from those around her.
And then a young fellow said in a low voice in her
ear —
"It is too late, Missy; no man could get past those
rocks alive!"
"Oh, Jim, why didn't you try something !"
"Hist, Missy !"
His tone was a warning one. He left the crowd
and fell back behind the hulk of an old fishing boat.
Una followed him there. Her eyes were flashing with
indignant feeling.
"Jim, did you try nothing?" she demanded.
"Ay, Missy," the young man replied with deep
bitterness of feeling. "Fayther an' me went to get our
BETROTHED 53
ropes, an' found 'em cut to pieces. Us had our rockets
ready, an' 'twould have saved some on 'em!"
"Oh, the fiends !" gasped Una. "Who did it?"
"Us have our suspicions !" the young man answered
cautiously. Then he added, " 'Tis of no use ye bein*
here, Missy. Best be out of it!"
"I shall be here if I like," and Una brought down
her small foot with a defiant stamp. "Do you think
1 could lie in my bed while murder and theft are being
committed ? I have my eyes and ears open ; and if
once I have positive proof of what I know goes on, I
will expose it ! I am not a helpless woman any longer.
Mr. Endicott is home — and another !"
"Hist, Missy!" said Jim Tanner again.
At this moment there was another fierce onslaught
of wind and waves ; and then a heart-rending cry from
the brig rose to the heavens. A sharp, grinding con-
cussion, then, with a sudden dip, the brig sank within
their sight ; the strong current round the rocks sucked
her greedily down; and her crew were engulfed in
the raging pitiless deep without a hand being out-
stretched on their behalf.
The crowd on the beach broke up; two men passed
close by Una.
"If there was a chance o' her bein' Captin Davey's
he were bringin' stores from furrin parts !"
"Ay, 'tis a chance. 'Twill bring those that looks
for 'un somethin' good ! Us be in luck's way this
year. 'Tis wreck number three !"
Una shivered. She turned to Jim, but he had dis-
54 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
appeared. Then with determination in her closely-
shut lips, the girl quietly followed a little knot of men,
who were making their way slowly and cautiously
towards the treacherous rocks. They were so busy in
consultation that she slipped past them without being
perceived, and very silently she crept up a narrow
gully in the cliffs that led to a small cave. Here,
wrapping her plaid more closely round her, she sat
down and waited. She was exactly opposite the wreck,
and to her excited fancy it seemed as if far out in the
water some of the crew were still struggling for their
lives.
"Oh," she murmured between her clenched teeth,
"a lifeboat would weather this storm, however strong
the currents were. We watch them die, and we gloat
over their dead bodies. It is awful !"
CHAPTER V.
RESCUED FROM A WRECK
" The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck.
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.
She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool.
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull."
Longfellow.
It was a gruesome watch. Here in the soHtiide of
her cave she saw the dim forms of two or three men
waiting greedily for spoils to be washed ashore. Two
had torches ; and presently a huge wave bore in some
dark objects. There was a rush ; one dragged his
burden up to the very entrance of the cave in which
Una was. She crouched in her hiding-place, and
shuddered as she beheld old Martin turn over eagerly
the lifeless body of a man. He rifled his pockets ; she
saw the gleam of watch and chain being transferred
into Martin's keeping; she saw a belt being undone,
and heard the chink of money. But she kept perfectly
silent, and as other spoils were being washed ashore,
Martin left his prey and joined his companions. Some
instinct made Una creep down softly towards the
drowned man. She stood looking at him with tears
56 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
of pity in her eyes. Only a short time ago he stood
in health and strength, the blood rushing through his
veins, his eyes bright and sparkling, his voice strong
and vigorous. Now he lay there face downwards on
the sand, hushed in death's grip, a still and lifeless
corpse.
As she gazed at him she noted that his dress and
figure was not that of a common sailor ; he was a gen-
tleman ; his clothes, his hands proclaimed the fact.
And then in the silent darkness she started violently.
She could not be mistaken: a low breathed sigh,
almost a moan, came from that still form.
Una had truly said to her guardian that she was
afraid of nothing. In an instant she was down on her
knees chafing the cold hands and trying to feel if his
heart were still beating. And in a minute a very feeble
fluttering motion told her that life was not yet extinct.
Then she sprang to her feet, feeling her helplessness ;
and running swiftly but noiselessly out of her hiding-
place, she made her way round to the shore, where
groups of fisherwomen and a few boys were still talk-
ing. She passed them, and then found the one for
whom she was looking. Jim Tanner was leaning
against the wall. He was alone, and Una touched
him gently on the arm.
"Jim, follow me at once; there's one of the crew
alive. I daren't let any one know it, for he has been
robbed. Come as quick as you can, and don't let them
see you."
Without a word Jim obeyed, and was soon by the
RESCUED FROM A WRECK 57
side of the drowned man. He took a flask from his
pocket, and poured a little brandy into his mouth, and
then began working his arms up and down in the
orthodox fashion, Una standing breathlessly by.
Presently he turned to her.
"He's coming round. Missy. I'll hoist him on my
back and carry him up to the cliff and get him home,
where us'll see to him. 'Tis gettin' late. Don't 'ee
trouble to stay out any more."
Jim was acting promptly. Una knew there was an
opening at the farther end of the cave which led up
to the top of the cliff, and with a sigh of relief she
sped round to the beach again and home as fast as her
feet could carry her.
She met Cuthbert as she was passing through the
garden.
"I am on my way to bring you back," he said. "Do
you generally wander out on a stormy night in this
fashion?"
Una turned her big troubled eyes upon him.
"Oh, I don't know what I do," she said in a dis-
tressed tone. "Do you know a vessel has been wrecked
within sight and sound of us ?"
Cuthbert looked startled.
"Mr. Endicott and I have been deep in a discussion
on past history in the library ; we have even been
oblivious of the storm till we joined Miss Endicott.
and found she was anxious for your re-appearance."
"As if it matters about me!"
There was impatience and scorn in U^a's tone.
58 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
"But have the crew not been saved ?"
"How could they be, when every one's desire is that
they should be drowned?"
Cuthbert looked at the ffirl's flashing eyes and quiv-
ering lips with some wonder. He thought her over-
wrought and gave little heed to her words.
"It is such a dangerous coast," he said musingly.
"But why is there no lifeboat?"
"Ask Mr. Endicott. His father built one, and it
was wilfully destroyed within a month of its presenta-
tion. No one has attempted to have another."
She dashed past him into the house, and Cuthbert
followed her more slowly. He did not see her again
that evening. Both Mr. Endicott and his sister were
so absorbed in arrangements for their coming journey
to London that the news Cuthbert brought them did
not interest them much.
"It is an awful coast," said Mr. Endicott. "I have
always felt we ought to have a lighthouse to warn
passing vessels of our treacherous currents and rocks.
But it is not often that vessels come so close. They
are out of their course if they do so. We shall hear
all about it to-morrow. Cuthbert, have you any plans
for the future? I mean with regard to Una."
"I am willing for the marriage as soon as it suits
you," the younger man replied.
"I shall be going to town the beginning of October
— in another month, in fact. Will that be too soon?"
"Not if it suits Una."
RESCUED FROM A WRECK 59
"You will speak to her to-morrow, my dear," said
Mr. Endicott, turning to his sister.
She assented quietly ; and Una upstairs, pacing her
room in a tumult of passion, pity, and interest in the
shipwrecked crew, little thought how quietly her
future was being discussed and settled.
The next morning was a contrast to the stormy
night. Blue sky, and sun ; only a ripple on the ocean
that had dealt so cruelly with human beings a short
time before.
Una was soon making her way across to Eagle's
Head in her own boat. She was anxious to hear of
the rescued man, and was glad when she presently
met Tom Tanner. He was a grave weather-beaten
man, with short brown beard, and the same honest
eyes that had been handed on to Jim. He pulled in
close to Una, and answered her breathless inquiries in
a low tone.
"He be all right. Missy. He be a young gent in
such haste to be home that he shipped in this Nor-
wegian barque. He calleth himself Duncan Thisel-
thwaite, an' he liveth at Thiselthwaite Manor, nigh on
fourteen mile from this part, I reckon. He be in
terrible haste to push on, but fayther an' me have
telled him he be not fit to sit astride a horse for
another four-and-twenty hours ; an' he have promised
to bide wi' we till to-morrow."
"I am so glad," said Una ; lint her tone was still
anxious. "Has he asked any questions, Tom ?"
"Yes, Missy, 'deed he hath, an' it hath bin awk'ard
6o A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
for we. Our Jim, he broughted him on his back,
cgsackly as he were a-lyin', an' when he asketh for his
belt o' money, an' his watch, an' his two rings, an' his
di'mond breast-pin, it looketh fooHsh to kep on sayin',
'twas the waves that dragged 'em off him. An' Jim,
he be terrible down concarnin' it ; an' feyther, he sent
I to the spot to have a right-down sarch, an' that be
my errand; but us an' ye knoweth a little more than
that, Missy; an' 'tis an outrageous thing to know on
these matters an' be tongue-tied !"
Then Una's colour rose, and her eyes flashed fire.
"But I shall not be tongue-tied, Tom; no one shall
deprive me of speech. And I shall go straight to
the thief and demand him to give up the stolen prop-
erty. I am not going to have Jim suspected of stealing.
The thief is bound to be discovered. Mr. — Mr.
Thiselthwaite will not take the theft calmly; he will
insist upon his property being found. I know the
thief. I watched him strip him; and I shall go
straight to him at once."
Tom hushed her, though there was no other boat
or human creature in sight.
"Missy, they were hard at the drink last night, an'
ye be bound to be cautious. 'Tis right down desperate
they getteth after a stroke o' luck. 'Tis like robbin'
a lion o' its prey to speak up to 'em like ye doeth. I
fear 'twill set 'em terrible agen we, but 'tis not the first
time, an' right be right an' wrang be wrang."
"I shall go straight to him," said Una, deftly turn-
RESCUED FROM A WRECK 6i
ing her boat's head round. "And I shall bring back
the things to Eagle's Head in an hour."
Tom began to expostulate, but Una set her lips
determinedly together and left him, calling out —
"Your names shall not be brought into it. No one
knows who rescued him."
She rowed back to the beach, and with the help of
a fisher lad landed her boat, and with swift footsteps
made her way up the village street till she reached a
small cottage standing alone at the farther end of it.
She knocked sharply at the closed door, and lifted
the latch to open it, but found it locked.
A murmur of voices that reached her ear told her
that Martin and his wife were at home.
After waiting for some minutes, the old woman
opened the door very cautiously and put her head out.
"Eh, Missy, be it you? My Martin were up so
late a tryin' to save they poor critturs that he be
sleepin' now hard and fast, or I would ask 'ee to come
inside."
"Then he must wake up at once," said I'na in her
most regal tone, "for I want to speak to him!"
"Eh, dearie me ! But 'twill be easy for 1 to give
'un the message."
"No, it will not. T must see him at once, i)lease. It
is most important. T have come to save him from
getting into trouble."
Martin's wife was a good bit older than himself.
Her face was a mass of puckers and wrinkles. A
frightened shifty look stole into her small grey eyes,
62 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
and she began to blink them furiously, as was her
custom when nervous.
"Eh, Missy, ye be allays good to we ! Maybe he'll
waken if 'ee bide a moment. Will 'ee come in an'
take a seat, an' I'll go to 'un?"
Una took a chair as desired in the small kitchen.
JMartin had prudently withdrawn to the inner bed-
room, from whence he issued a few minutes later,
looking heavy and surly with drink.
"You're missing a fine shoal of mackerel this
morning," said Una severely, as she eyed him up
and down. "All the others are out an hour ago."
"Shouldn't wonner!" growled Martin, with a scowl
at her.
There was a pause. The door was ajar. Una
turned and shut it. Then she came to her business
promptly.
"Martin, that was a dreadful wreck last night !"
"Wrecks be mostly that," was the dry reply.
"And only one passenger saved," Una went on.
The old man looked up quickly, astonishment and
fear dawning in his eyes.
"Yes, aren't you glad to hear it? One who was
left for dead recovered consciousness and is now
inquiring for a belt of money, a watch and chain,
two rings and a breastpin."
She spoke slowly and emphatically, fixing her
gaze steadily upon him.
An angry flush rose to the old man's cheeks.
"An' what do 'ee mean bv comin' to I wi' such
RESCUED FROM A WRECK 63
tales?" he demanded furiously. "Best go to the
parson who be hurryin' downi to shore to bury the
copses! What be it to I? Ye be wunnerful fond o'
raeddlin' wi' other folks' concarns, Missy, but ye will
do it one time too often !"
"But this is my concern, for I found him alive and
had him seen to, and I also happened to see you
taking his things when you thought he was dead !"
A dreadful oath escaped Martin. He strode
forward with fury in his eyes and looked as if he
was going to strike the girl to the ground. Una did
not flinch. She only drew her little head up very
proudly.
"Take care, Martin. You are not too drunk to
know who is speaking to you. I am not going to
get you into trouble. I know the manners and
customs of Perrancove better than you think. You
are only one amongst many. I am not sorry for
your disappointment, for though I have never caught
you in the act before, I know you have had many a
spoil from poor drowned men. Why I have come to
you now is to demand Mr. Thiselthwaite's property
at once. He is asking for it, and has been put off
the scent by excuses. Unless I take these things
instantly to him he will employ the coastguards from
Polycarthew, and all your houses will be searched.
I fancy then the}- will discover more than the}- look
for. Now, make haste, and be angry with yourself
for committing such a crime, and not with me for
saving you from the consequences of it."
64 ^ DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
Martin was awed by Una's imperious words.
Dulled though his senses were, he had common
sense enough to sec that he had no choice but to
obey.
He shuffled off into the inner room muttering
angrily —
"A unbeknownst copse be the property o' the
tinder. 'Tis allays my luck to lose my rightful
earnin's. He were dead as a door-nail afore I
touched 'un ! Folks that drags dead copses to life
won't be so smart at raisin' theirselves when their
time Cometh ! An' that time will be quicker than
they think for if they spend their lives in robbin'
honest men o' their rightful livin' I"
He banged the door behind him, and Una heard
him swearing and cursing at his wife for the next
five minutes. He did not appear again, and his wife
came out with the articles in an old handkerchief,
Avhich she put into Una's hands with trembling
fingers.
"Ye won't be too hard an' raise a stir on wc, Missy.
If so be the gent be stay in' at the Towers, don't 'ee
let the squire know 'twere my Martin had the
accident to pick up the bits that were washed off the
poor gent's body."
"You needn't be afraid," said Una shortly. 'Tf
you have returned everything it will be all right, but
if there is a shilling short in the money I shall bring
Mr. Thiselthwaite to your cottage myself, and Mr.
Endicott shall come too !"
RESCUED FROxA[ A WRECK 65
"Every blessed penny be in your bands, Missy."
"That's all right. Good morning."
Una left the house in relieved spirits, and it was
not very long before she was pulling up to Eagle's
Head with the recovered spoil. She landed her boat,
but met on the shore, not any of the Tanners, but
Duncan Thiselthwaite himself.
He was pacing up and down the shingle — a tall,
handsome young man, but his face had a worn white
look. The effects of the shock of the preceding night
had not yet passed off. He glanced at Una in some
wonder; she went straight up to him.
"You are Mr. Thiselthwaite, are you not?"
He doffed his cap courteously.
"I have brought you your possessions. T hope
you will find they are all right. Will you look at
them now and tell me?"
"I am much more inclined to look at you," said
the young man, with admiration in his eyes, as a
smile lit up his face and made Una think he was the
handsomest man she had ever seen. "Are you a
water-nymph or fairy, that you api)ear with what [
thought was lost for ever ?"
"Please, don't ask questions, but tell me if your
money is right."
"It will take some time to count," said Duncan,
noting the impatience in the girl's tone, and not
unwilling to prolong the interview. "Shall we retire
to the shelter of this old boat? I really am most
s
66 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
eternally grateful to you, but cannot conceive how
you obtained possession."
Una was silent. She watched him unfold the
handkerchief and count out his money. He made
short work of it.
"Perfectly correct. I am indeed indebted to you
Miss ?"
"Una Carteret is my name. I don't want any
thanks. H you wish to oblige me, you will ask no
questions; and do not show yourself in the village
before you leave. You lost your money and jewellery
in the sea. The sea has given them up. And be
quite sure that the young man who saved your life,
and his relations, are as honest as yourself. Good
morning."
She ran back to the water's edge, pushed off her
boat, and Duncan Thiselthwaite stood watching her
as if he were in a dream.
He gave himself a shake presently.
"Whatever she is, she is flesh and blood, and —
muscle ! I never saw a girl pull as she does.
It is a mystery I am not to solve. Well, if I am not
to investigate this neighborhood, the sooner I am
gone the better, and the sooner these good folks get
the loan of a horse, the better I shall be pleased.
Poor little Clarice! Ill news travels fast. She will
hear of my death before I reach her !"
CHAPTER VI.
UNITED HANDS
" Marriage is a matter of more worth
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship."
* Shakespeare, Henry VI.
It was the day before Una's wedding-day. Out-
side, it was grey and misty. The gulls flew scream-
ing round the windows. In the old drawing-room,
a disconsolate little figure sat by the fire with a
prayer-book in her hand. The bustle of her
trousseau was over. All arrangements for the
coming event were finished. Miss Endicott had
worked and toiled with a will and purpose ; and
finding Una wandering aimlessly over the house,
getting into every one's way, and distracting the
maids by her advice and directions, had sent her into
the drawing-room and told her to stay there.
"Sit down and meditate upon your approaching
marriage. It is well for young girls to have quiet
thoughts and earnest resolves upon such an event."
So Una had disconsolately obeyed. Sitting still and
meditating was not much to her taste ; but she bent
her mind to the task, and finally thought it would be
a good idea to read through the service in which she
was about to take part so soon. She read with
68 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA.
knitted brows, and sat with her chin in her hands
reflecting.
Then, as rapid in her action as in her thoughts,
she left the room hastily in search of Cuthbert. She
found him alone in the library, but he was not
studying. He was reading a newspaper by the fire.
"I have come to look for you," Una said, advancing
somewhat shyly, and holding her prayer-book open
between finger and thumb.
"What can I do for you?" said Cuthbert, drawing
a chair up for her opposite himself. As he looked at
her fair girlish face, and met an almost childish look
of appeal in her eyes, he wondered again if he were
doing rightly by her.
"Miss Endicott told me to sit down and think
over what I was going to do to-morrow," Una said
simply. "I've been doing it, and — I'm a little bit
afraid of it, to tell the truth. I thought you would
be the best person to consult, as of course you will
have to go through the same. It seems to me such
a much more solemn thing than I thought it
was."
Cuthbert felt inclined to smile, but did not. There
was a side to Una's character that was as yet
unknown to him. He only saw her naive childish-
ness and simplicity, but it pleased him.
"It is a great step." he said gravely ; "but I don't
think you will have anything to fear. What is it that
perplexes you?"
"It is the promise I have to make. I didn't know
UNITED HANDS 69
Move' was mentioned at all. It is four times repeated.
We each have to promise it twice."
"Well ?"
Cuthbert put down his paper. There was an
amused light in his eyes.
"I don't love you," she said, looking at him
doubtfully.
"But you don't dislike me?"
''Oh, no. I rather like you. At least, I like one or
two things about you."
"Let me hear them."
"Well — I like the look of you. I like to see you
striding along when you walk out of doors. You
don't slouch; your figure is as good and as upright
as Jim Tanner's. Kathie said the other day, if a man
didn't look a man he needn't look at her! You are
manl}-, and you are tidy in your appearance, and you
dress well ; not like our vicar, who is always in greasy
black coats and crumpled ties."
"Thank you. Anything else ?"
"Yes. I don't think you are stupid. Don't laugh !
I can't bear stupid, heavy people who can never see
a joke. Then I think you know more than I do.
About sonic things, not all."
"That is high praise. On the whole I satisfy you?"
Una looked down at her prayer-book, which she
still kept fingering.
"I don't love you," she repeated ; "not as I love
my dog 'Victor.' "
"I am thankful for that mercy," murmured Cuthbert.
70 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
"Then }oii think it will be all right?" she asked
wistfully.
*T feel sure it will be," said Cuthbert with an
encouraging smile. "Do not trouble your head over
words. If you do not hate a person you are quite safe."
She brightened visibly.
"There is just one other thing I want to say. If
we get tired of each other, I suppose we can go away
from each other ?"
"For good and all, do you mean? It would be
awkward."
"Only for a time. Of course I don't sec why we
should, for if you go your way and I mine, we shall
not be likely to interfere with each other. But T
want to be prepared for the future. I think it would
be easy to part for about four or five months, and
then it would prevent monotony."
"I don't think that it will be necessary."
"But I might want to do it. I don't like the
sentence 'Till death us do part.' It makes me
shiver !"
"It is not too late now for you to alter your mind,"
he said, looking at her seriously. "Do not tell mc
after that I forced you into it."
"You forget that I have promised to marry you.
I don't want to alter my mind."
Her small head was held proudly.
"I should not look forward to the future," he said,
"I promise you I shall not give you more of my
company than you desire."
UNITED HANDS 71
Una put down her prayer-book on the table, with
a sigh of reHef.
"It is sure to be ah right," she said. "Uncle said
I could trust you."
Cuthbert felt a slight compunction in his heart.
"Come here, Una," he said gently.
She came and stood by his side. He put his arm
round her, the nearest approach to a caress that he
had ever given her.
"I have become rather a silent taciturn fellow," he
said. "I have sometimes wondered whether I am
doing right in taking away your liberty so soon ; but
I honestly think I can take care of you, and I hope
I shall make you happy."
"You are not taking away my liberty," said Una
hastily. "I would not marry you if you were. You
promised me I should boat, and fish, and do just as
I always have."
"So you shall, but you must not forget that I shall
prevent your marrying any other man who may
turn up."
"No men do turn up here — no gentlemen — at least,
not often."
She stopped, and her thoughts flew to that hand-
some young man who had come into her life and
left it again so suddenly. She sometimes wondered
if she should ever meet him again.
"I saved his life, but he didn't know it. If T had
not been there he would have died ; and he is living
now because of me."
72 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
Her cheeks flushed as she thought of him. Cuth-
bert did not notice it. He was feeHng now what a
child she was; what a responsibiHty was his if he
spoiled her life.
"Una," he said tenderly, "give me a kiss and tell
me you will try to love me."
Una's thoughts came back from Duncan Thisel-
thwaite, and she stared at him in astonishment.
"I don't like kissing," she said ; "it always seems
so babyish. I kiss little children, and Miss Endicott
kisses me, but I should never think of kissing any
one else."
Cuthbert felt decidedly snubbed.
"You will have to kiss me to-morrow," he said
nonchalantly, "or let me kiss you."
"It will be very silly if you do," was Una's reply.
"I certainly shall not kiss you. I will keep that for
when you're very ill or weak. I might do it then, if
you wanted me to."
"Pity is akin to love," murmured Cuthbert, as he
released his affianced bride, and took up his paper
again, "It is a good thing that I can live and be happy
without either."
Una left him, but though his eyes were on his
paper, his thoughts were still on her.
The wedding day dawned bright and fair. It was
a very quiet little ceremony, and when over, Cuthbert
took his young bride away for a week to London,
That was a time of mixed happiness and bewilder-*
ment to Una. She loved the sight-seeing, the shops,
UNITED HAXDS 73
the crowds of people ; but she was not in her element,
and the day before they returned to Perrancove she
turned to her husband pathetically. "I am a stranger
in a strange land," she said ; "I am dizzy and con-
fused with it all. People think me an ignorant rustic
when I make any remark. I feel like a bird in a
cage. Take me home. I shall never be happy
here."
"Not with me?" questioned Cuthbcrt.
"You are the strangest part of it all," said Una,
softening her words by laying her hand gently on his
coat-sleeve. "I can't get accustomed to you, and we
are so very much together. I have never had to talk
so much in my life before, and it seems years since we
were married."
Cuthbert winced a little; but he was not in love
with his wife. He was kindly indulgent to her, and
felt in his inmost soul that he too would be glad when
this short honeymoon would be over.
Mr. and Miss Endicott had not left the Towers
when they returned. Mr. Endicott's disease had
taken a serious turn, and he had been confined to his
bed for some days. It proved only a temporary check,
however, and he was able to receive them in the
library with great composure.
When alone with Cuthbert his manner changed.
"I am going up to town to-morrow, Cuthbert," he
said; "and I am going up to die. Soul and body
' shrinks from it, and yet it is inevitable. How would
you feel if you were in my place?"
74 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
Cutlibert's brows knitted. He walked the room
uneasily. His reply sounded a feeble one.
"I should not like it."
Mr. Endicott gazed at him meditatively.
*T wish you and your little wife had a religion of
your own," he said at length.
'T am not a heathen," Cuthbert said hastily.
"Your creed is an empty one, is it not ? Your belief
brings you no comfort; no power in life?"
'T have not felt weak. My will and self-control are
my good angels. Comfort I have not needed."
"Since my illness I have learnt that our Creator
meant His creatures to have a higher destiny down
here than the majority of us think. My life has been
wasted in raking straws together; the corn has been
untouched."
Cuthbert looked at his friend rather sadly.
"You have gleaned more than straw," he protested,
waving his hand towards the pile of manuscripts and
books on the table near him.
Mr. Endicott shook his head.
"I have brought some ancient history to light," he
said ; but the dead past is not so important as the
living future. For I am going to live, Cuthbert —
how and where I know not; and yet the oldest
book in the world tells me it will be in paradise with
the One whom I have only just begun to know."
There was silence. Then Mr. Endicott held out his
hand. «
"Give me your word that you will meet me again,
UNITED HANDS 75
lad. I have found the 'Way, the Truth, and the
Life.' Set your heart to find Him too, and lead your
wife."
"God helping me I will," said Cuthbert, deeply
moved.
Una had a last interview with her guardian.
"Are you happy, child?"
"I am delighted to be home again. Cuthbert is
very kind and good. He says he will be busy now
with your book, so we shall not see much of each
other."
She spoke cheerfully. Mr. Endicott looked at her ;
then drew a long breath.
"You have youth, and health, and strength. Don't
waste them as I have wasted mine ; think of others'
happiness before your own, and be loyal and true to
your husband. He deserves your trust. Look after
my tenants more than I have done,"
He could say no more, and L^na, as she looked
at his white suffering face, felt her eyes fill witli
tears."
"Oh ! I hope the doctors will make you better," she
said passionately. "They must. We shall see you
back here again. I will do all you wish !"
But she and Cuthbert had looked for the last time
on the face of the dying man as he drove away from
the Towers with his sister.
Only three weeks afterwards they heard of his
death, and they both felt that they had lost a friend
who could not be replaced.
yd A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
"And now I have no one but you to look after me,"
said Una, going into her husband's study after the sad
news had been brought to her. "Miss Endicott tells
me she is going back to licr own home. It seems so
strange to be here without her.''
Cuthbert did not answer for a minute. His thoughts
were with his friend ; then he turned to his young
wife very gently —
"We will try and follow out his wishes and meet
him in the Great Beyond."
Una nodded, with a little sob.
"He seemed so very good, didn't he? I remember
he asked mc what my religion did for my life and
soul ! He made me think I ought to believe in
something more than T do. T can't get his words
out of m}' head. T wish I knew the way to be reallv
good."
Cuthbert was silent. His heart was moved and
softened, but what could he say? At last, with an
effort, he spoke —
'T will go to church with you next Sunday, Una.
I haven't been inside a place of worship for years. It
is the correct thing to do, I believe."
Una's face did not brighten. Church was not much
enjoyment to her. But Cuthbert felt he had made a
grand step in the right direction ; and then he asked
her to leave him.
Husband and wife saw very little of each other,
except at meal-times. Una was out of doors the
greater part of each dav. She did not neglect her
UNITED HANDS yj
household. Miss Endicott had trained her too care-
fully for that. After breakfast she spent a couple of
hours in the kitchen and still-room. The rest of the
day she had to herself. Kathie saw very little change
in the young bride. She could get no satisfactory
information out of her.
"Aren't you afraid of losing your wedding ring?"
she asked her one day, when they were both baiting
some lobster-pots from the same boat, and Una's
gold-encircled finger was flashing in and out of the
water.
"No, it wouldn't matter if I did. Cuthbert would
get me another one."
"Oh, but think of the awful ill-luck! Why, that
ring is part of himself ! I would feel my finger thrillin'
through if I had one on !"
"Oh, Kathie, you are so silly !"
And Una's laugh rang out merrily.
Kathie looked serious.
"I don't understand you. Missy ! You are no
different to what you used to be, and — and it seemeth
to me strange. Don't you feel restless and heart-weary
to be with him ?"
"I shouldn't think so! I tell you, Kathie, that
London visit is like a nightmare to me now ! I was so
nervous that I couldn't walk a step anywhere without
him. He never left me alone. It was so tiring! We
were so glad to be back. He loves his books. I
love my boat. And we're both as happy as we
can be!"
78 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
She looked it. as she flashed a merry glance across
at her humble friend. Katliie shook her head, sighed,
and said no more.
Husband and wife walked to church together die
first Sunday after Mr. Endicott's death. Cuthbert
felt he was doing a virtuous action. He did not
expect to be helped there, and apparently he was
not,
Mr. Preston, the old clergA-man, had an indistinct
and monotonous delivery. The service was dull and
drear}-; the sermon lengthy and dry. But some
words in the second lesson attracted and held Una's
attention.
'*.... The way 3-e know.
'Thomas saith unto Him, Lord, v.-e know not
whither Thou goest, and how can v.-e know the way?
"Jesus saith unto him, I am the way."
She began to tliink over them.
Mr. Endicott had gone into the unseen world: he
seemed to have kno\Am the wav. It was not a thino-
of dread to him. Did she know the wav? Xo.
And this disciple did not. What did Christ mean by
sa>-ing he was the way? She puzzled over it and
kept repeating over to herself as she walked home by
her husband's side —
"Ye know the way. . . .1 am the way."
'T will ask old Eli about it," she said at last aloud.
"^^'hat are you going to ask Eli about ?" questioned
her husband.
UNITED HANDS 79
"Oh, only something that is puzzHng me. I would
rather ask him things than any one I know. He is
an old dear!"
Cuthbert smiled and said no more.
CHAPTER VII.
THE TREASURE OF THE WITCHES' HOLE
" 'Tis sweet to behold, when the billows are sleeping,
Some gay-coloured bark moving gracefully by ;
No damp on her deck, but the even-tide's weeping.
No breath in her sails, but the summer wind's sigh.
Yet who would not turn with a fonder emotion,
To gaze on the lifeboat, though rugged and worn.
Which often hath wafted, o'er hills of the ocean,
The lost light of hope to the seaman forlorn?"
Moort.
"Cuthbert, I want some money."
It was Una who spoke. She stood in the old
library one morning, and made this request with a
mixture of shyness and audacity in her tone.
Her husband looked up from his books a little
irritably.
"Why did you not ask me at breakfast? For
housekeeping, I suppose?"
"Oh, no, indeed. I want a big sum. I want a
hundred pounds."
"What on earth for?"
"Well, it is to get some things for my workshop —
for boat building. I have been wanting it for ever so
long, and since you have told me that Mr. Endicott
has left all his property to me in his will, I thought I
should like that sum at once."
TREASURE OF WITCHES' HOLE 8i
Cuthbert pushed aside his writing and looked at her,
"That is a large sum to fritter away on your
amusements."
For the first time since their marriage Una lost her
temper.
Her eyes flashed indignantly.
"I am the best judge of whether I fritter it away.
It is my money, and if I had not married you I
should have spent it as I liked. I am not a child,
though I don't know much about business, and I
think it is very hard that I should not be able to have
money when I need it !"
"Softly, softly," Cuthbert said, gently. 'T am
quite willing to give you some. There is a big balance
at the bank only waiting to be drawn upon. I have
not gone into the matter with you yet, but have
intended doing so. I think the best plan would be for
you to have a certain sum each quarter."
Una's anger died away as quickly as it came.
"I don't mean to be cross," she said, in tones of
contrition, as she drew near to the table ; "but I
want this money very much, and you mustn't prevent
my having it. I want it to-day. How can I get it?
Have you got it in the house?"
"Tell me exactly what you want to do with it?"
Una hesitated.
"No, I can't do that, for I don't quite know ; but
it will not be wasted. Don't ask me any more
questions, please, aboiit it ; but give it to me."
6
82 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
She spoke imperiously. Cuthbert was beginning
to find that she could not always be managed like a
child.
He shrugged his shoulders.
''You shall have it," he said; "but I hope that
sometimes you will be advised by me as to the
disposal of your income. You do not yet know the
value of money."
"I daresay I don't," said Una merrily, her good
homour having been quite restored; "'but that I shall
learn by spending !"
Cuthbert said no more. Though at that time a
married woman's property was entirely at her hus-
band's disposal, he was strictly conscientious
concerning his wife's income. He would not touch a
penny of it himself, and regarded it as a sacred trust
from his dead friend. He sat down and wrote a
cheque for a hundred pounds, which he handed to
his wife in silence. She took it with a radiant
smile.
'Thank you, Cuthbert; I assure you I shall not
waste it."
"That afternoon she rowed over the water to the
Witches' Hole, singing gaily as her boat shot along.
Martin and some of his companions watched her
from the shore as they lounged outside the "Blue
Lobster," and Martin's tone was surly as he said:
'There be Missy agen goin' to that there cursed
place ; 'twill sarve her right if some harm do come to
TREASURE OF WITCHES' HOLE 83
she. The maid knoweth too much an' feareth too
Httle!"
Una certainly seemed to have no fear for the ill-
omened cove. She drew up her boat right under the
green slimy cliff, and pushed her way up a long
narrow gully. At first it appeared as if she were
penetrating into thick darkness, but she knew every
inch of the way, and presently, after creeping through
a low opening in the rock, she stood upright in a
high vaulted cave. Light streamed in from above,
and it seemed as if she had come into a carpenter's
workshop.
There was the framework of a large boat in the
centre. Old Eli Tanner was hammering away at it,
his grandson aiding him ; and they both looked up
with expectation in their faces as Una came in
sight.
"I have got it," she cried gaily; "I have really got
it. Where is Tom ?"
"Gone fishin' wi' the rest. Missy," replied the old
man ; " 'twill not do for all we to be nowheres when
a mackerel shoal be in sight !"
"Martin and several of the others are back. I saw
them as I came along. Tom can go straight off
to-morrow and bring back all you want. We shall
not be stopped any longer for want of money."
A gleam of light seemed to cross Jim's grave face.
His grandfather was more demonstrative. "The
dear Lord be praised. Missy! Us have had our need
supplied at the right minit."
84 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
Una was rolling up her serge sleeves in a business-
like way. She went straight to the part of the boat
that had been apportioned to her, and taking up her
hammer set to work with a will; talking as fast aS
her nimble little hands were moving.
"How soon do you think we shall finish her, Eli?
I am looking forward to her christening. What
shall we call her? I've been trying to settle upon a
nice name. 'V'ictory' is too common. What do you
think, Jim? I know the name you would like, but I
think a lifeboat is such a very special thing that it
ought to have a special name."
"There be time for her name, Missy; her'll take a
brave bit o' days yet afore her be ready for her
christenin'."
"I lie awake at night thinking of her," pursued
Una; "and longing for the time when we shall
launch her. And then sometimes I get afraid that
our secret will be discovered. What would they say
if they knew what we are doing? How furious they
would be !"
" 'Tis the place will be her safety," said Eli, shaking
his head wisely. "No boy nor man for miles roun'
the coast will come nigh the Witches' Hole. The
curse will turn into a blessin', I be thinking. Jim
heerd tell in the village yestere'en, that Jock Pengafif
had been close by Sandy's Cave, an the current had
drifted 'im nearer this Hole than he fancied, an' he
come back shakin' as if wi' ague, and says he: 'Twas
nigh on eleven o'clock at night an' I heerd the
TAKING UP HER HAMMER SHE SET TO WORK WITH A WILL.
TREASURE OF WITCHES' HOLE 85
hammerin' o' coffins come from the Witches' Hole,
an' the sweat ran olf me, as I thouglit 'twas a warnin'
to them that ventured nigh!' Tom an' Jim were
workin' a bit late, for they had bin out all day ; an'
us said when us heerd the story, that Jock have
helped us wonnerful by his fright!"
Una nodded, with an amused sparkle in her eyes.
Jim presently left them, and she worked on with Eli,
full of hope and bright anticipation of the day when
their work would be completed, and a lifeboat would
be launched to save a shipwrecked crew.
This work of theirs had been long in hand. Tom
Tanner had followed his father's trade, and was a
boatbuilder: he had made several secret expeditions
to a firm of shipbuilders, with whom he had worked
for some years. He had helped to turn out many a
lifeboat for different parts of the coast, and from the
time he settled in Perrancove, and saw the need for
such a craft, his one ambition was to make one,
Una and he concocted the scheme together. Eli and
Jim were pressed into their service, and for months
past they had been steadily and silently at work.
They knew their only hope was to keep their plans
to themselves, for if any of the fishers knew about if
certain destruction would follow their efforts. And
they had made use of the Witches' Hole to this end.
Superstition and fear would keep all, save themselves,
at a distance. Una spent all her pocket-money, and
the greater part of her time on this object. She was
cautious and wary in the extreme, and did not often
86 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
venture across in her boat to the entrance of the cave.
Her usual way was along the top of the cliffs. Thick
gorse bushes hid the aperture above the cave from
view; but once having pushed her way through
them, a rope ladder led her down in safety, and she
had descended so often that she could hnd her way
in the dark as easily as in the day.
Lately the work had almost come to a standstill.
Materials were wanting, and materials that were
costly. Una's heart sank, until she remembered that
she was now a woman of property, and hence her
interview with her husband.
She worked on now, a happy smile on her lips ;
and then suddenly she turned to Eli —
"Let us call her the Triumph, Eli ; don't you think
it will suit her?"
"Ay, Missy; but let her be built afore us nameth
her. Please God, her'll be a saviour to many."
There was silence for a minute, then the old man
said with a smile —
"Seemeth to me, ]\Iissy, as I worketh at her, her be
a true pictur' of our dear Lord, and the world's need.
There be a many out o' their course, and drifting
towards destruction, and there be no help for they, save
in the grand old Lifeboat. There be those lurin' 'em
on, like some that us knows on a lurin' the vessels on
by false lights !"
"Wretches!" muttered Una.
"An' there be few that are willin', and none able
to save 'em," continued Eli, his rugged and expressive
TREASURE OF WITCHES' HOLE 87
old face lighting up with enthusiasm as he spoke.
"But thank the good God, His Lifeboat was finished
long, long ago, and It cruises near every sinkin' soul
that'll lay hold on It."
Una looked thoughtful.
"What is the way to be good, Eli? I mean to be
sure of heaven, and to be a true Christian, and to
believe really what you say you believe?"
"Step into the Lifeboat," said Eli, turning his eyes
full on the young questioner, with a glad ring in his
voice. "Step right in. Missy. 'Tis a grand rest and
safety to a storm-tossed, sinkin' soul."
"But I'm not sinking or storm-tossed," said Una
perplexedly, "and I don't want a rest."
"Which way be you sailin', Missy? Not towards
Heaven's port, be 'ee ?"
"I don't know. I want to sail that way."
"Ye be out o' your course, and ye'll never stem the
current an' avoid the rocks. 'Tis when us sees oursel's
to be sinkin' that us be glad of the Lifeboat; 'tis
when us knows us be lost, that us be glad to find the
way."
"Then I shall have to wait till I'm sinking, Eli. I
am not near that now."
Eli shook his head and murmured —
"May the Lord open hern eyes to see where her be
driftin' to!"
Una only just reached home in time for dinner.
Cuthbert was gradually getting more and more ab-
sorbed in his book. He was absent and distrait at
88 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
meals. The writing fever had seized him. Una sat
opposite to him, in a low-necked, short-waisted gown
of white brocade, looking in her fair beauty like some
pretty child. Her bright brown hair rolled off her
broad brow in rebellious curls and waves, that could
not be controlled. As she eyed her husband up and
down through her long lashes on this night, she began
to long for a little more attention, and soon she spoke
somewhat impatiently —
"Cuthbert!"
"Yes?"
"Do speak to me, I am so dull. Miss Endicott used
to talk to me much more than you do!"
"My dear child, I am not Miss Endicott. You
naturally would have more things in common with
her than with me."
"Why?"
Cuthbert moved his head impatiently.
"Because you were two women."
"And can't husbands and wives ever interest each
other as well as two women?"
"Well, what am I to talk to you about? Your
doves, or your dog ; your lobster-pots or your shrimp-
ing nets?"
"Now you are scornful !"
"Indeed I am not. You forget what a great work
occupies my time and thoughts. T have no room for
the little things that make your life."
He was not looking at her ; he did not see the proud
young head raised in pained protest; the curl to the
TREASURE OF WITCHES' HOLE 89
sensitive lips. He only heard her voice which was
meekness personified.
"My little life is so interesting to me, that I forget
it cannot be interesting to you."
"What have you been doing to-day?" asked Cuth-
bert, with an effort to make himself agreeable.
"Oh, the usual things," responded Una, with a
sparkle in her eyes.
There was a silence. Cuthbert glanced at his young
wife, and thought what an innocent child she was.
"You must not mind my absorption, Una. You
cannot enter into my work, nor realize what a boon
some of my dear friend's discoveries will be to the
scientific world. The work I am engaged upon is no
selfish one ; it will throw light upon many a hidden
treasure, and bring knowledge of the past to many
earnest seekers. More I cannot tell you. I believe il
will benefit the world at large, and my toil and labour
will not be in vain if I shall be able, in this way, to
help my fellow beings. You are glad, are you not, that
your husband is no idler?"
"Oh, yes, very glad," said Una, feeling rebuked
and ashamed at having tried to lead her husband's
thoughts away from such a work.
"What a clever scholar he is!" she thought to her-
self. "And perhaps one day when this wonderful book
is printed, and everybody will be praising the author,
and all the world will be the better for it, perhaps, then,
I shall better understand the honour it is to be his
wife!"
90 A DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
A day or two after this, Una met Kathie in sore
trouble. Her grandmother, who had been old and
ailing for some time past, had died suddenly in the
night.
It had been a great shock to the young girl ; and
she broke down and wept when telling Una about it.
"Her be the last of my people, Missy, and I'm left
lone and forlorn, and will have nobody of my own to
be with me. And I mind now how quick-tempered I
have been to granny, and how vexed at times when her
spoke for my good. I shall never have so good a
friend agen as her!"
Una tried to comfort her.
"Are you going to keep the cottage on, Kathie?
You can't live there all alone."
"And why not, Missy? There be only one mouth
to feed now. Poor granny earned nothin' and her
got but two shillin' a week from the parson. I shall
not miss that. I be young and strong, an' can live by
what the sea brings me as well as any lad in Perran-
cove."
But another had a word to say to this arrangement.
Jim Tanner stepped up to Kathie one evening as she
sat on the low stone wall outside her cottage and
cleaned out her net for to-morrow's fishing. He looked
at the young girl's graceful figure, her handsome sun-
burnt face, and noted the softened wistful expression
in her usually laughing eyes, as she turned them full
upon him.
"Good evenin', Jim."
TREASURE OF WITCHES' HOLE 91
"Good evenin'."
Jim straightened himself; he took his pipe out of
his mouth as if about to speak ; then he put it in again
and pufifed away in silence, leaning on the wall and
looking out over the sea.
Kathie bent her head to hide t
