[CHAPTER XXVIII]
BERYL ACTS THE PART OF A HEROINE
BERYL knew not what to do with herself after Miss Burton's departure. Miss Hollys tried to be kind to her niece; but her well-meant attempts to cheer and amuse the child only irritated Beryl. She would wander listlessly about the house, unable to settle to any occupation, and feeling as restless and unhappy as a girl can feel. Her aunt hinted that she would probably be sent to school in the course of a few weeks, a prospect which did not tend to raise Beryl's spirits.
One day Beryl roused herself from her moodiness, and started for a long walk. She had been thinking of Mr. Gilbank, and the words he had said to her when she had asked him how one could have peace in the heart when one's life seemed to be going all wrong. She knew that if her friend could speak to her now he would say, as he had said then, that she must trust God, her Father, and believe that He loved her, although He had permitted these changes that she found so hard to bear. The child was learning a lesson that no one, old or young, finds easy to learn—the lesson that God's love is as real and great when clouds shadow our pathway, as it is when we walk in sunshine. But with the first glimpse of the truth, leading her to look up to God with childlike trust and love, a feeling of sweet peace came to her heart.
Beryl walked along the shore as far as Sheldon Point. The day was bright, and though the wind blew high, it was not very cold. Beryl enjoyed contending with the boisterous breeze, which brought a warm glow of colour to her cheeks.
There were some children playing on the rocks beneath the Point, and Beryl lingered for a few minutes to watch their play. They were jumping from rock to rock, as the outgoing tide receded, and urging each other forward to one daring feat after another. It was not a very safe amusement, for the rocks were here and there slimed with slippery seaweed, and below them the sea flowed deep; but the children were accustomed to climb about the rocks, and had no sense of danger. Beryl had often performed such feats herself, and she did not think it necessary to utter a word of warning.
But suddenly she was startled by a shrill cry, followed by a great splash. A little boy of five, moved by an adventurous spirit beyond his years, had endeavoured to follow the example of his elders, but failing in the leap, had slipped on a treacherous edge, and fallen back into deep water.
The children screamed loudly in their fright, and Beryl echoed their cry as she looked round for help. No one was in sight; the beach was deserted at this hour. Before help could reach them from the village, the boy would surely be drowned.
What was to be done? Beryl hesitated scarcely a moment. She could swim; it was for her to make an effort to save the child. Throwing off her jacket and hat, Beryl leaped into the water as the boy rose to the surface. But already the swift-flowing current had carried him some distance from the rocks. Beryl struck out bravely for him, though she experienced unusual difficulty in swimming, encumbered as she was by clothing. Ere she could reach him, the child sank again, and when his head again appeared on the surface, it was still far from her.
And now, as the cries of the children rang in her ears, Beryl began to doubt her power to save him, and a sense of her own peril chilled her heart. But with a prayer for help she pressed on, and putting out all her strength, by a great effort managed to reach the child and grasp him, only to find that his weight immediately dragged her beneath the waves.