I Saw Three Ships | Page 3

before now, touching my
wisdom; but I blow no trumpet."
"Such be your very words," the crowder insisted. "Now mark my
answer. 'Uncle Issy,' says I, quick as thought, 'you dunderheaded old
antic,-- leave that to the musicianers. At the word 'whales,' let the music
go snorty; an' for wells, gliddery; an' likewise in a moving dulcet
manner for the holy an' humble Men o' heart.' Why, 'od rabbet
us!--what's wrong wi' that boy?"
All turned to Young Zeb, from whose throat uncomfortable sounds
were issuing. His eyes rolled piteously, and great tears ran down his
cheeks.
"Slap en 'pon the back, Calvin: he's chuckin'."
"Ay--an' the pa'son at' here endeth!'"
"Slap en, Calvin, quick! For 'tis clunk or stuffle, an' no time to lose."
Down in the nave a light rustle of expectancy was already running from
pew to pew as Calvin Oke brought down his open palm with a whack!
knocking the sufferer out of his seat, and driving his nose smartly
against the back-rail in front.
Then the voice of Parson Babbage was lifted: "I publish the Banns of
marriage between Zebedee Minards, bachelor, and Ruby Tresidder,
spinster, both of this parish. If any of you know cause, or just
impediment, why these two persons--"
At this instant the church-door flew open, as if driven in by the wind
that tore up the aisle in an icy current. All heads were turned. Parson
Babbage broke off his sentence and looked also, keeping his forefinger
on the fluttering page. On the threshold stood an excited, red-faced man,
his long sandy beard blown straight out like a pennon, and his arms
moving windmill fashion as he bawled--

"A wreck! a wreck!"
The men in the congregation leaped up. The women uttered muffled
cries, groped for their husbands' hats, and stood up also. The choir in
the gallery craned forward, for the church-door was right beneath them.
Parson Babbage held up his hand, and screamed out over the hubbub--
"Where's she to?"
"Under Bradden Point, an' comin' full tilt for the Raney!"
"Then God forgive all poor sinners aboard!" spoke up a woman's voice,
in the moment's silence that followed.
"Is that all you know, Gauger Hocken?"
"Iss, iss: can't stop no longer--must be off to warn the Methodeys!
'Stablished Church first, but fair play's a jewel, say I."
He rushed off inland towards High Lanes, where the meeting-house
stood. Parson Babbage closed the book without finishing his sentence,
and his audience scrambled out over the graves and forth upon the
headland. The wind here came howling across the short grass, blowing
the women's skirts wide and straining their bonnet-strings, pressing the
men's trousers tight against their shins as they bent against it in the
attitude of butting rams and scanned the coast-line to the sou'-west.
Ruby Tresidder, on gaining the porch, saw Young Zeb tumble out of
the stairway leading from the gallery and run by, stowing the pieces of
his flute in his pocket as he went, without a glance at her. Like all the
rest, he had clean forgotten the banns.
Now, Ruby was but nineteen, and had seen plenty of wrecks, whereas
these banns were to her an event of singular interest, for weeks
anticipated with small thrills. Therefore, as the people passed her by,
she felt suddenly out of tune with them, especially with Zeb, who, at
least, might have understood her better. Some angry tears gathered in
her eyes at the callous indifference of her father, who just now was
revolving in the porch like a weathercock, and shouting orders east,

west, north, and south for axes, hammers, ladders, cart-ropes, in case
the vessel struck within reach.
"You, Jim Lewarne, run to the mowhay, hot-foot, an' lend a hand wi'
the datchin' ladder, an'--hi! stop!--fetch along my second-best glass,
under the Dook o' Cumberland's picter i' the parlour, 'longside o' last
year's neck; an'-hi! cuss the chap--he's gone like a Torpointer! Ruby,
my dear, step along an' show en--Why, hello!--"
Ruby, with head down, and scarlet cloak blown out horizontally, was
already fighting her way out along the headland to a point where Zeb
stood, a little apart from the rest, with both palms shielding his eyes.
"Zeb!"
She had to stand on tip-toe and bawl this into his ear. He faced round
with a start, nodded as if pleased, and bent his gaze on the Channel
again.
Ruby looked too. Just below, under veils of driving spray, the seas
were thundering past the headland into Ruan Cove. She could not see
them break, only their backs swelling and sinking, and the puffs of
foam that shot up like white smoke at her feet and drenched her gown.
Beyond, the sea, the sky, and the irregular coast with its fringe of surf
melted into one uniform