Shifting Winds | Page 6

I've just brought 'ee ashore fro' the
wreck, an' am goin' to tak 'ee home. Try to sleep, dear."
Gaff wrapped his jacket round the child, and hurried away in search of
the highroad. He knew the place well. He had been wrecked on a reef
within two miles of his native hamlet, and within three of the town of
Wreckumoft. He soon found the road, and broke from a fast walk into a
run. The child lay quietly in his arms, either being too much exhausted
to speak, or having fallen asleep.
The man muttered to himself as if in perplexity--

"It'll never do to tak 'er home wi' me. She'd remember us, and that
would let the secret out. No, I'll tak 'er straight there."
Gaff reached his native village as he came to this resolve. It was all
astir. Three ships had been cast on the rocks there within a hundred
yards of each other. The lifeboat was out; the rocket apparatus had that
moment arrived from the neighbouring town, and was being dragged
on its waggon through the village to the scene of danger. All the men,
and many of the women and children of the place, were on the beach,
while eager groups of those who could not face the storm were
collected in doorways and sheltered places, awaiting news from the
shore. Many of these had anxious faces, for they knew their kinsmen,
the fishermen of the place, to be bold, daring fellows, who would not
hesitate to risk life and limb to save a fellow-creature from death.
Stopping a moment at the outskirts of the village, Gaff laid down his
burden, and tied a large blue cotton kerchief round his neck, so as to
cover his mouth and chin. By pulling his sou'wester cap well over his
eyes, he concealed his face so effectually that little more than the point
of his nose was visible. Not satisfied, however, with his disguise, he
climbed a fence and struck into a bypath, which enabled him to avoid
the village altogether.
Setting off at a quick pace, he soon regained the highroad beyond the
village, and did not pause until he came to a large iron gate which
opened into the shrubbery in front of a handsome villa. He went
straight up to the front door and rang the bell.
Of course, at such an hour, the family had retired to rest, and it is
probable that in ordinary circumstances Gaff would have had to wait a
considerable time before an answer should have been given to his
summons. But on this night, the only son and heir of the family,
Kenneth by name, knowing that wrecks were likely to occur on the
coast, and being of a bold, romantic, restless disposition, had mounted
his horse and ridden away, accompanied by his groom, in search of
adventure.
The housekeeper of the family, usually styled Mrs Niven, being

devotedly attached to this son and heir, had resolved to sit up all night
and await his return. Mrs Niven had prophesied confidently for the
previous ten years, that "Master Kenneth was certain to be drownded
sooner or later, if 'e didn't come to die before;" and being fully
persuaded of the truth of her prophetic powers, she conscientiously
waited for and expected the fulfilment of her own prophecy.
At the moment when Gaff rang the bell she was awaiting it in a chair in
front of a good fire, with her feet on the fender and sound asleep. It
would be more correct to say that Mrs Niven was in a state of mixed
sleep and suffocation, for her head hung over the back of the chair, and,
being very stout, there was only just sufficient opening in the wind-pipe
to permit of her breath passing stertorously through her wide-open
mouth.
The first summons passed unheard; the second caused Mrs Niven to
open her eyes and shut her mouth, but she could not rise by reason of a
crick in her neck. An angry shout, however, of "why don't you answer
the bell?" from the master of the family, caused her to make a violent
struggle, plunge her head into her lap, by way of counteracting the
crick, rush up-stairs, and fling open the door.
"I know'd it," exclaimed Mrs Niven wildly, on beholding a wet sailor
with a bundle in his arms; "I always said he would be--goodness me!
it's only his trunk," she added in horror, on observing that the bundle
was a rough jacket without head or legs!
"Clap a stopper on your jaw, woman," said Gaff impatiently. "Is this
Seaside Villa--Mr Stuart's?"
"It is," replied Mrs Niven, trembling violently.
Gaff quickly removed the jacket, kissed the child's pale cheek, and laid
her in Mrs Niven's ready