And so it seemed, to judge by the weeping women who were bidding their friends good-bye. The head of the column was now passing over Copping Bridge, and their glancing spear-points and fluttering pennons could be seen over the hedges of the long lane which led up to the central ridge of the island. After they had mounted the crest of Arreton Down, which divided the fertile and sunny vale of Newchurch from the dense woods of the northern shores of the island, a glorious view met their eye. The gleaming bay of Sandown, bounded by the beetling cliffs of Culver on the east, looking like walls of ivory rising from the azure sea; while on the west loomed up the grandly swelling ridge of Boniface Down, and the dim headland of Dunnose. Below lay the fertile land, smiling in the morning sun, with hamlet, farm-house, and church nestling in sheltering copse or woody dell.
"'Tis a fair land and a rich," said Lord Woodville, reining in his horse to look at the lovely view. His glance took in the steep acclivity above Appuldurcombe, and rested upon the darker shadow which marked where the little Priory stood. With a sigh the Captain of the Wight shook the reins of his horse and turned to pursue his march. He gave no look to Briddelsford, which lay amid the northern woods, and towards which Ralph was looking with wistful eyes, and spake but little until they reached the end of Ashey Down.
Then a cry broke from the head of the column, for there lay the ships that were to take them over the sea to the sunny land of France, and it came home to all men that they might be looking on their own fair home for the last time.
They descended to the valley below, and passing through Ashey village they crossed the Brading road a little to the north of that borough, where they were joined by a large body of men led by young Oglander of Nunwell; they then skirted the beautiful Brading creek, until rising once more they reached St Helens Green, and descended for the last time to the old church by the sea. Here they found all the rest of the band, and a great crowd of relations and friends come to bid them God speed.
Ralph revelled in the busy scene, and, together with Dicky Cheke and Maurice Woodville, superintended the embarkation of the baggage. The four ships which were to take over the expedition were lying in the narrow channel at the entrance to Brading Haven.
As the expedition marched down the steep declivity from St Helens to the sandy spit thrown up by the winds and waves to form a breakwater for the broad expanse of Brading Haven, the vessels were being warped alongside the shingly beach. The tide was falling fast, and by the time the baggage animals had reached the sea beach, the sea had left the wide extending flat of sand and shingle, so as to allow of all going alongside the flat-bottomed unwieldy hulks of the transport vessels.
The work of embarkation went on all day, and by the time the tide had risen over the beach again, every one was on board.
It was an exquisite evening, and its still beauty impressed all hearts.
Astern of Ralph's ship lay the three other awkwardly-built, high-prowed vessels, the rising tide seething past their anchor cables, which quivered and vibrated in the rushing eddy. Every rope and pulley, mast and yard, and fluttering bannerole stood out velvety brown against the pale primrose, the orange gold, the purple and grey of the western sky, while the still waters of that large mere reflected the solemn shadowy hills, and the brilliant light of the departed sun. The grey green mist of evening was creeping over the distance, and the evening star flickered its glinting light across the purling water. There was silence in nature, but not in man. Sounds of merriment arose from the idly floating ships; songs and laughter, and shouts to their friends upon the shore, where the flickering firelight showed that many were camping out to take the last view of their relatives.
Ralph could have wished to be alone: the noises jarred upon his feelings. He moved away from the taffrail, where he had been sitting watching the bubbles of the tide as it eddied under the stern post.