In Kedars Tents | Page 9

'Yes, and a very cold one at the moment. If madame could restrain her
religious enthusiasm so much as to sit still, we should make better
progress.'
He spoke rather curtly, as if refusing to admit the advisability of
manning the boat with a crew of black-letter saints. The manner in
which the craft leapt forward under each stroke of the oars testified to
the strength of his arms, and madame presently subsided into whispers

of thankfulness, having reason, it would seem, to be content with mere
earthly aid in lieu of that heavenly intervention which ladies of her
species summon at every turn of life.
'I wish I could help you,' said the younger woman presently, in a voice
and manner suggestive of an energy unusual to her countrywomen. She
spoke in French, but with an accent somewhat round and full, like an
English accent, and Conyngham divined that she was Spanish. He
thought also that under their outer wraps the ladies wore the mantilla,
and had that graceful carriage of the head which is only seen in the
Peninsula.
'Thank you, mademoiselle, but I am making good progress now. Can
you see the ship?'
She rose and stood peering into the darkness ahead--a graceful,
swaying figure. A faint scent as of some flower was wafted on the keen
wind to Conyngham, who had already decided with characteristic haste
that this young person was as beautiful as she was intrepid.
'Yes,' she answered, 'it is quite close. They are also showing lights to
guide us.'
She stood looking apparently over his head towards the 'Granville,' but
when she spoke it would seem that her thoughts had not been fixed on
that vessel.
'Is monsieur a sailor?'
'No, but I fortunately have a little knowledge of such matters--
fortunate, since I have been able to turn it to the use of these ladies.'
'But you are travelling in the "Granville."'
'Yes; I am travelling in the "Granville."'
Over his oars Conyngham looked hard at his interlocutrice, but could
discern nothing of her features. Her voice interested him, however, and

he wondered whether there were ever calms on the coast of Spain at
this time of the year.
'Our sailors,' said the young lady, 'in Spain are brave, but they are very
cautious. I think none of them would have done such a thing as you
have just done for us. We were in danger. I knew it. Was it not so?'
'The boat might have drifted against some ship at anchor and been
upset. You might also have been driven out to sea. They had no boat on
board the "Granville" ready to put out and follow you.'
'Yes; and you saved us. But you English are of a great courage. And my
mother, instead of thanking you, is offering her gratitude to James and
John the sons of Zebedee, as if they had done it.'
'I am no relation to Zebedee,' said Conyngham with a gay laugh.
'Madame may rest assured of that.'
'Julia,' said the elder lady severely, and in a voice that seemed to
emanate from a chest as deep and hollow as an octave cask, 'I shall tell
Father Concha, who will assuredly reprove you. The saints upon whom
I called were fishermen, and therefore the more capable of
understanding our great danger. As for monsieur, he knows that he
shall always be in my prayers.'
'Thank you, madame,' said Conyngham gravely.
'And at a fitter time I hope to be able to tender him my thanks.'
At this moment a voice from the 'Granville' hailed the boat, asking
whether all was well and Mr. Conyngham on board. Being reassured on
this point, the mate apparently attended to another matter requiring his
attention, the mingled cries and expostulations of the cabin boy
sufficiently indicating its nature.
The boat, under Conyngham's strong and steady strokes, now came
slowly and without mishap alongside the great black hull of the vessel,
and it soon became manifest that, although all danger was past, there

yet remained difficulty ahead; for when the boat was made fast and the
ladder lowered, the elder of the two ladies firmly and emphatically
denied her ability to make the ascent. The French boatman, shivering in
a borrowed great coat, and with a vociferation which flavoured the air
with cognac, added his entreaties to those of the mate and steward. In
the small boat Conyngham, in French, and the lady's daughter, in
Spanish, represented that at least half of the heavenly host, having
intervened to save her from so great a peril as that safely passed
through, could surely accomplish this smaller feat with ease. But the
lady still hesitated, and the mate, having clambered down into the boat,
grabbed Conyngham's arm with a large and not unkindly hand,