The Story of the White-Rock Cove Read online

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE WHITE-ROCK COVE AGAIN.

  Aleck was a long time getting well. He had to be nursed and taken careof all through that winter, only gradually making little steps towardsrecovery.

  It was quite a festival when he was first carried down-stairs; and thenagain when he was taken out in the carriage for a drive, lying at fulllength upon a sort of couch which we erected for him, and to which hedeclared, in my anxiety to make him comfortable, I had contributed allthe sofa cushions in the house.

  The subject of the lost ship was forbidden for a long while; and I grewto thinking of it as a sort of formidable undertaking, though one uponwhich I was firmly bent--the confession to Aleck himself of my guilt inthe matter.

  But when at last I was permitted to approach the subject, I could onlyfeel surprised that I had been for so long afraid of it. Aleck receivedmy confession so quietly, instead of getting angry, and spoke so kindlyand gently, that I could scarcely believe it was the same Aleck whoselook of fiery indignation on that eventful morning of the 20th ofSeptember had so startled me.

  In one way, indeed, he was _not_ the same; for the accident, and illnessconsequent on it, seemed in some peculiar manner to have rendered himfar more lovable and thoughtful than he had been formerly; a triflegraver, perhaps--at least I thought so, until, when he grew quite strongagain, his merry laugh would ring out as cheerily as ever--and moreserious in his way of looking at things, but not less happy. That I wassure of; for all through the long weeks of confinement there was not abrighter place in the house than the place at the side of his couch--hewas so uniformly cheerful, and seemed so thoroughly to enjoy everylittle plan that we were able to form for his amusement.

  I told him I was quite surprised that he received my confession sogently; it would have been so natural if he had got angry. I rememberhis answer very well:--

  "Why, you see, Willie, it seems quite a little thing to me now. I don'tthink I can exactly put what I mean into words; but you know when Ithought I was dying, and eternity seemed quite near, everything elseseemed so little--only, the wrong words I had used to you seemed muchworse than I had thought they could. Old George's words came back to meso often, about the loss of the ship being a very little thing; whilstwrong words and angry feelings would appear more terrible than we everfancied possible. I was dreadfully frightened until I felt quite sure Iwas forgiven. You can't think how glad I was when I got your message."

  "I wanted to tell you," I said, "when I came into your room that time;but I couldn't speak, though I nearly choked in trying to stop crying."

  "Well since then," resumed Aleck, "the feeling doesn't seem to have goneoff. I don't mean I don't care for things, because you know I likeeverything very much--our games, and the books, and madrepores; but Ifeel as if before my accident God and heaven and the Bible were allbeing put by, and got ready, for the time when one was old and grown up,and I've felt so different since then. It was when I felt so frightenedat the thought of what a naughty boy I was, and of all the bad things Ihad done, and began to tell Jesus about it--in my heart, you know, for Icouldn't speak--and remembered he was so good and kind he never turnedany one away, and so felt sure he had heard me, that I began to think sodifferently."

  At this point of Aleck's narration I broke in impetuously with--

  "Oh, Aleck! for _you_ to be feeling like that--you, who had only feltangry--what would you have done if you had been me?" And then Iproceeded, with feelings of unconcealed horror, to tell him of my miseryduring the few days succeeding the loss of the boat; the terrible walkhome that morning; the lonely terrors of the nights; and my feelings atchurch with that verse always sounding in my ears, "If I regard iniquityin my heart, the Lord will not hear me."

  Before I had finished my story Aleck had got hold of one of my hands,and was stroking it as if he had been a girl. "You see," I said, "I wasfeeling rather like you, only I couldn't know I was forgiven, with thatdreadful sin that no one knew of."

  "We had both done wrong," Aleck replied; "it doesn't much signify whichof us was worst. Willie, do you know I want us always to do somethingtogether that we haven't done before."

  "What is it?" I inquired.

  "I should like us to read a little bit of the Bible together every day,quite for our own selves; not like a lesson, you know, nor even havingauntie to explain it to us, but just for our own selves, like when Ihave one of papa's or mamma's letters to read. I think it would help usto remember the really great things better, like auntie's text in myroom."

  I need scarcely say that the habit--afterwards continued, wheneverpracticable, through our school-life--was at once begun. In fact,Aleck's merest wish was a law to me; for all through the winter monthsevery opportunity of rendering him any service was hailed with delight.I could never forget that his weakness and suffering were the result ofmy wicked behaviour, and could only comfort myself by doing all that inme lay to make his confinement as little wearisome as possible. Knowinghis active, restless nature, I could fully appreciate what the trialmust be, even with every alleviation, and often wondered he was able tobear it so cheerfully.

  But when I ventured to express to my cousin these speculations of mine,he would laugh them off merrily.

  "Why, Willie, how can I help being thankful and happy? Not to speak ofuncle and aunt, who seem to be doing something for me every hour of theday; nor of old George, who toils up every morning to see me, though heused to tell me that it made his old bones ache--a fact he will neverallow now; nor of Frisk, who sits upon my feet for hours, on purpose tokeep them warm; I should like to know how I could help being cheerful,with your own dear old self giving up the greater part of your play-timeto chess, or carpentry, or madrepores, and spending every penny of yourpocket-money--No; it's of no use your stopping me to deny it. I'vecounted up, and you've spent every penny of your pocket-money--just as Iwas saying--in buying books, or tools, or things for me; waiting uponme, too, as if I were a prince and you my slave. Why, I'm perfectlyafraid of admiring anything you have, lest I should find it done up in aparcel, and sent to me, like the illustrated copy of 'Robinson Crusoe'the other day!"

  In this sort of grateful spirit, making much of all my little triflingacts of kindness, Aleck scarcely allowed us to feel that he wasunder-going any deprivation during the months that he lay on the sofa.

  Once only I remember noticing a little cloud, that vanished again almostas soon as it appeared. One morning, after lessons were over, I camerunning into the study with my Latin exercise.

  "Papa, Mr. Glengelly was so pleased with my exercise, he has sent me into show it to you."

  My father looked over it, reading little bits aloud, and finding withsurprise that, difficult though it was, there were no mistakes. From myfather's table I flew to the sofa on which Aleck was lying, with Friskat his feet as usual, the open copy-book in my hand. But in an instant Icould see there was some trouble in my cousin's face.

  "Aleck, dear Aleck," I whispered anxiously, "what is it? Have I doneanything?"

  "No--nothing at all," replied my cousin with a great effort, and hastilybrushing away his tears. "Let me have a look at it too. I'm ashamed ofmyself, Willie. I believe I was making myself unhappy at thinking that Ishall just have gone back as much as you've gone forward. I didn't knowI cared so much for being first in my lessons."

  After that I avoided ever talking of my lessons when Aleck was in theroom; but he noticed this, and insisted on introducing the subject,speaking often to Mr. Glengelly about my progress, and looking over myexercises from time to time, whilst he would playfully remark that "weshould be about equal when he was allowed to begin lessons again, andbetter companions than ever before."

  Sometimes he wondered at my getting on so much faster than formerly, notknowing the spirit of resolve and determination that had grown out ofall the sad time of trouble, when I had found out for the first timewhat a poor sinful child I was, and had learned to seek and find formyself the sure Refuge and Strength--not for times of trouble only, butfo
r the whole of life's journey.

  From the circumstance of my play-time being in great part spent with mycousin, at least such part of it as was not taken up in rides or driveswith my parents, it came to pass that my visits to the Cove were farless frequent than they had been at any previous time. But though oldGeorge growled and grumbled at seeing so little of me, he alwaysencouraged me not to desert my cousin.

  Now and then, however, I found my way down the Zig-zag to the lodge, andit was upon one of these occasions that I unburdened my mind to my oldfriend of a desire, which grew and strengthened upon me, in some way toprovide for Aleck a boat which should be quite equal to the one he hadlost. I knew it was worth a great deal more than I should be able tosave in pocket-money, and a vague idea of the possibility of barteringsome of my possessions had been dismissed as impracticable.

  To part with the "Fair Alice" without old George's sanction would not beright, but if he would make no objection, it seemed to me that thiswould be on the whole the easiest mode of reparation, and I took himinto consultation on the subject accordingly.

  "I know it's your present to me, George," I said, feeling sadly alive tothe delicacy of the request; "but if you'll give me leave, I think it'sthe only thing I have that would do to give Aleck. I can't think of anyother way. I know it took you a tremendous time to make, and I care forit more than for anything. But I would rather give it to Aleck."

  Old George chuckled rather provokingly, and seemed to be taken up withsome abstruse calculation. "Well, I won't be against it, Master Aleck,"he said, "unless--no--I'm not sure--" (the old man seemed to grow quitecomposed in his uncertainty), "I think--I may show you." And so sayinghe led the way into the work-shop.

  I started with surprise--another little schooner-yacht was in course ofconstruction, precisely similar to the one that had been lost.

  "O George, how kind!"

  "No; it's not a bit kind," responded George, "for I'm being paid for it.I meant to have done it without, but your papa, sir, has insisted uponit being his order, and I've been obliged to cave in."

  It was to be a secret from Aleck, however.

  How hard it was to keep that secret, when, every time there was a talkof Aleck's being able to get down to the Cove, I was on the point ofletting out what he was to see there!

  I did contrive to keep it, however; and when at last February wasushered in with a burst of warm weather that tempted all the little budsto unfold themselves with a perfectly reckless disregard of the coldthat was sure to follow, and primroses and violets to start into blossomas though they could not lay the bright carpet for spring's advance toosoon, Dr. Wilson decreed that nothing would do his little patient moregood than a couple of hours of the freshest sea breezes, caught andpartaken of on the spot, a mile off from shore;--which meant that Aleckhad leave to go to the Cove once more, and out upon the sea for a sail.

  Of course I had a whole holiday for the occasion; and I had satisfactionin observing that I was not the only one unable to settle down intoquiet occupation. The carriage was nearly ready to drive my parents andAleck down to the lodge, when I started off by way of the Zig-zag, tothe Cove.

  There was the new yacht, already decked from bow to stern with the tinyflags which I had been collecting for weeks past. All the sails wereset, but a little anchor--also my addition to the furniture of the newvessel--kept her safely moored; and as she curtsied upon the water,every sail and flag reflected as in a mirror, I thought I had never seenanything so pretty.

  Perhaps Aleck thought so too, for when he arrived a few minutes after,leaning on my father's arm, he seemed as if he could not speak, and hadto sit down quite quietly in the boat whilst he drew the yacht close upto the side, and looked at it all over. Then he turned to my father,and said something about not being able to thank--and at this pointbroke down in a manner that was so singularly infectious, that no onewas found able to break the silence at first.

  My father said presently, however, "You must carry him off to sea,George; and I shall call you to account if those pale cheeks don'tgather roses from the crests of the waves."

  Then we drew up the anchor of the little yacht, and pushed off from theshore. A basket of provisions had been placed in the boat, and before wehad been very long out at sea, George insisted upon its being unpacked,threatening Aleck that he should be reported as insubordinate unless heconsumed precisely the quantity of wine and the whole amount of coldchicken dealt out to him.

  "Willie," whispered my cousin to me, after dutifully doing his best atthe luncheon, "I want very much indeed to go to the White-Rock Cove--doyou think George will let us?"

  Certainly I did _not_ think so, but Aleck wished it, and that was quiteenough to make me join earnestly in his entreaties that we should turnthe boat's head round in the direction he wished.

  Groves consented at last, but not without many misgivings, theWhite-Rock Cove being, he said, about the last place he'd have thoughtof taking us to; and sentiments to the same effect were respectfullyechoed by Ralph, who, in my private belief, had held the place insuperstitious horror ever since the 20th of September.

  All of us, however, yielded as a matter of course when it was foundAleck had set his mind upon it; and the wind being favourable, we werenot very long in rounding Braycombe headland.

  Once in the Cove, my cousin asked me to land with him, requesting Georgeand Ralph to leave us ashore a little while.

  "It must have been almost exactly here, I think," said Aleck, leadingthe way to the spot which I remembered only too vividly, and glancinground to assure himself that our companions were out of sight. "Willie,I want us to thank God here, on the very spot--there's no one to seeus--let us kneel down."

  We knelt together at the foot of the White Rock; Aleck, who was stillvery weak, leaning against me for support. They were only a few childishwords he said, but they came from a full heart; and I never remember inlater life any liturgical service in church or cathedral that stirred myfeelings more deeply than that simple thanksgiving. Nor even now, afterthe lapse of many a long year, can I visit that little retired nook inthe dear Braycombe coast, and hear the plash of the ripple, and the flapof the sea-gulls' wings, and the echoing murmurs of the sea in thecaverns, without being carried back by a rush of tender recollection tothat day when all Nature's sweet voices seemed to be uniting in one hymnof praise, taking up and beautifying and repeating the utterance of twolittle thankful hearts--

  "We praise Thee, O God."

  THE END