Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

"I'll talk to you in a minute, sir," he said, and Charles Tyrrell, looking forward, saw indeed that it was a moment, when the whole attention of the man at the helm was required, to steer the vessel in safety. Right before the ship was a long ridge of white foam, stretching out far into the sea, while on the leeward bow there was indeed a space where no such formidable appearance presented itself; but then, at a distance, so short that it appeared scarcely a hundred yards from the schooner, rose, in the shape of a promontory, a pile of gigantic, black cliffs to the northwest, against which the waves were dashing with fearful violence, and sending up the foam in white flashes over the dark, awful face of the rock. The wind was still blowing a gale from the south, and the ship heeling so, that even the sailors could not keep their feet, without holding; the deck of the vessel was literally under water, as she cut through, rather than rose over the waves, and straight on upon the breakers the captain seemed to be directing their course.

Not a word was now spoken by any one, and it was an awful moment, till at length, the loud voice of the captain shouted forth, "Now stand to your tackle!"

The roaring of the breakers a-head, and the dashing of the waves upon the cliffs to the south, was distinctly heard above the howling of the wind; but as the captain spoke, by a rapid movement of his hands upon the wheel, the course of the vessel was altered, her head brought round more to the rock, and shooting through the deep water, like an arrow from a bow, she left the breakers to windward, and neared the point of the promontory.

There was another anxious pause, as she cut her way, on coming nearer and nearer to the rock; but the captain's eye was fixed upon it, and rushing on with awful rapidity, she passed at what seemed less than half a cable's length; and to the relief of all who watched, the line of coast on the other side of the promontory was seen running off to the northeast, in the form of a deep and sheltered bay.

"There," said the captain, when the point was rounded--"there! there is not a vessel on this coast would have done that but the Hannah. Here Tom, take the helm!" and without resuming his conversation with Charles Tyrrell, he took a night-glass and looked out to windward after the cutter.

"Well, it is wonderful!" he said at length, "I can't think it natural to see anything going almost right in the teeth of the wind. But I can tell that fellow what--if he have not got the devil on board, he'll be upon the hog's back before an hour's over. Howsoever, sir," he continued, turning to his passenger, "there is no time to be lost for you. As soon as we get a little under the lee of the land, I'll have the boat out, to take you, and Hailes, and the lady, ashore. Get away across the country as quickly as you can, to Wrexton. There you'll find a little bit of an inn, where you can stay till I send the boat for you again. Better go down and tell her, for five minutes will bring us into smooth water; and if that fellow clears the hog's back, which I don't think he will, he'll be overhauling us as soon as he gets into the bay."

Charles Tyrrell needed no second bidding, but hurried down, to prepare Lucy for this new change. He found her pale and agitated, but still firm, and ready to follow at once any wish that he might express. While left alone in solitude to her own thoughts, everything around her had, indeed, appeared terrific; the rushing and dashing of the waves against the side of the ship, the excessive heeling of the vessel, the frequent strokes of the waves, which seemed as if they would have rent her from stem to stern, the howling of the wind, the rattling of the cordage, had all been heard, as she sat and listened, and had filled her mind with apprehensions of the darkest character.

All this reconciled her, however, wonderfully to the idea of landing again so speedily. Already the water was smoother, and the wind less felt, and she hurried the few preparations that were necessary, desiring the maid to rise and accompany her, which she doubted not that she would do with the greatest alacrity and willingness. The woman, however, showed, not the slightest inclination to stir. Overpowered with sea-sickness, the most selfish of all maladies, she said she could not rise, and she would not; and if she were to die, that she would rather lie and die where she was, than go in a little boat, at that time of night and be drowned.

There was no time to argue with her, for the sound of lowering the boat was already heard, and Charles supported Lucy up to the deck, while Hailes loaded himself with those things which were absolutely necessary to her comfort.

When they arrived upon the deck of the ship, the whole scene was comparatively tranquil--sheltered from the force of the winds, by the high lands, forming one side of the bay, which we have beforementioned, the schooner was running along rapidly, indeed, but easily, the sea was much calmer, and the rain had ceased. It was oppressively warm, and the clouds, rolling together in large masses, seemed to portend a thunder-storm, but still they occasionally broke away, and afforded from time to time a glimpse of the moon, setting large and dark coloured, on the western verge of the horizon.