The boys arose from their knees, and knew, although no word had been spoken, that for them and for those on the vessel many heartfelt prayers would ascend from their mother's heart. They opened the cottage door and went out, but soon returned with the intelligence that it was hoped she would gain the harbor yet, and so, feeling very tired, they both went to bed.
[CHAPTER II.]
THE LITTLE WAIF.
JACK and his brother were soon fast asleep, in spite of the noise made by the wind. But the widow lay listening to its wild roar, and thinking of that night when her husband was out in just such a storm as this, that came on so suddenly that before he could reach the shore his little fishing boat was dashed on the fatal rocks, and he and three others perished in the eddying waves.
As the hours went on, the storm increased in violence, while ever and anon between the lulls of the tempest the guns of a vessel in distress could be plainly heard. At the earliest dawn, all the men in the village were down upon the beach; some had been there all night watching the ineffectual effort of the splendid vessel to gain the harbor. It was all in vain, she was drifting fast to her doom on the fatal reef of hidden rocks that made this coast so dangerous.
To describe the scene of agonizing excitement when she struck, would be impossible. All hope was at an end then, and the passengers who crowded her deck knew it. The storm, however, had begun to abate, and, as soon as it was possible, boats put off from the shore to rescue the helpless crew and passengers. But before half of them could be brought off, the vessel had begun to break up.
Our two fisher-lads were among the earliest arrivals at the exciting scene, and they had promised to run back with intelligence to their mother.
"Now, Bob, you just run and tell mother how she is," said Jack, after they had stood looking at the vessel for a minute or two; "and don't come down here again. Stop up at Sandy Cove and watch; you can slip back to mother then, and tell her how it's going on."
Bob did not much like the post assigned him, to be a lonely watcher in a sheltered nook, instead of in the midst of the excitement. But when his mother repeated the same request, he did not think of returning to his elder brother. He was a meek, gentle lad, although a fisher-boy, and quite accustomed to obey his mother, although he helped to support her, and so he quietly took up his lonely position to watch the doomed vessel.
She had struck during the time he had been running home, and when he saw the boats put off shortly afterwards, it was a sore trial to him to stay where he was, in obedience to his mother's wishes, instead of remaining on the scene of action. But he did stay, watching with eager interest the progress made by the boats, and occasionally shouting cheering words to the rowers, as though the din of wind and waves would carry them to the men.