Morley Ernstein; or, the Tenants of the Heart

by G. P. R. James

At length, however, an effort was made; the boat was pushed out of the cove, and rowed through the calmer water of the little bay. A tremendous sea was still running beyond, although the violence of wind had certainly somewhat diminished, and old Adam Gray, who, without a word, had watched the proceedings of his master, knowing too well that attempt to restrain him would be in vain, now, from the top of the rock, gazed at the boat rushing out into the waves, and kept his eyes upon it till it was lost to his sight amidst the dark struggling waters. He tried to catch it again, but in vain; all was dim upon the face of the sea; and then turning his eyes towards the spot where the signals of distress, from time to time, showed the position of the polacca, he remained with his grey hair floating in the wind, and his heart full of sad and anxious apprehensions.

After a time the firing ceased, and the old man muttered to himself--"They have either reached her, or she has gone down." Then came the longest and most terrible space of expectation. Everything was darkness around; the only sound that interrupted the silence was the fierce rushing of the wind, which still continued to blow with awful fury; the sky at the same time was covered with clouds, so that no light fell upon the waters, and the only sight that met the eyes of old Adam Gray, as he gazed down from above, was the white foaming tops of the waves, which seemed boiling as in a cauldron.

"I wonder," he thought, "if I were to pile up a beacon here, whether he would understand what it meant? At all events it would shew him the villa and the rocks, so as to enable him to steer. I will try it at all risks;" and calling to several of the other servants, who were down below looking out as well as himself, he made them gather together a quantity of old wood which had been left in a corner of the vineyard, and with one or two decayed olive-trees, which had just been cut down, a fire was soon lighted on the extreme verge of the rock, and in about ten minutes spread its red glare far and wide.

Perhaps the good man expected that, besides giving light to any one who might be wandering over the surface of the waters, it would enable him also to see what was passing on the waves below; but in this he was mistaken, and for a quarter of an hour longer he watched in vain. During that time the wind subsided still more, and at length Adam Gray thought he heard his master's voice raised loudly. A moment after, a slight flash, like that of a pistol, was seen in the little bay, and the rocks around echoed with the report.

"Quick! light the torches--light the torches," cried the old man; and taking one of the flambeaux which he had brought out, he ran down the steps through the rock, to the place where the boat was usually hauled up. The other servants followed, but before they reached the shore the grating sound of her keel was heard, and the first sight presented to the eyes of Adam Gray was his master, pale and dripping, carrying across the narrow ledge of rock the form of a lady, whose face rested on his shoulder, while her arms were clasped tightly round him.

The blaze of the torches seemed to rouse her, or else it was some words that Morley whispered, for she raised her head, exclaiming--"Now, now, Morley, set me down! There are others need your care."

"Not yet," said Morley; "not till you are under shelter. This, at least, I have a right to do. Light us up the rocks, good Adam; the rest stay here till you have got out the other women. Captain," he added, speaking in Italian to a tall, athletic man, who had sprung to the shore after him--"take care of your own people, and follow us to the villa. Are you sure the other boat went down?"

"I saw it sink," replied the man, in a sad tone; and hurrying on up the steps, with Juliet in his arms, Morley paused not till he had laid her on a sofa in the saloon; then bending down his head he kissed her cheek, saying--"Thank God!" After gazing on her for a moment, he added--"Now I will see to your cousin. I fear she is much worse. Here, my good women," he continued, speaking to the wife of the contadino and her daughters, who had followed him into the house, "there is a lady below who will much want your care. Come with me."

In a few minutes he returned, bearing Lady Malcolm in his arms, apparently lifeless. She was soon carried to his own bedroom, and every means were employed to restore her that the experience of any of the party could suggest. Juliet forgot herself and all she had suffered in her anxiety for her cousin; but ere long, she had the happiness to hear her utter a few words of thanks to them for all they had done.

"Now leave her with me and her woman," said the wife of the contadino, who had shown skill as well as tenderness in her care of the sufferer; "a few hours' sleep will do more for her than anything else. Go with that lady, girls," she continued, speaking to her own daughters; "and find her some clothes, for she is very wet."