George Cruikshank's Omnibus

by George Cruikshank

Frank had gone down to the Nore to join the prize-crew on board the Sandwich, but during his absence they had been sent round by sea to Plymouth, and as no other vessel was expected to go down the Channel for some time, he obtained permission to travel thither by land, hoping, as there had been a long run of strong westerly winds, to reach that port as soon as his men did. Accordingly he started for London to visit his mother, and finding her much alarmed, and averse to remaining at the cottage, he removed her to ready-furnished lodgings at Marylebone; when, after an interview with Mr. Unity Peach (who promised to use his best endeavours to promote the comfort of Mrs. Heartwell), the young officer set out in the mail for Plymouth, where, on his arrival, he at once reported himself on board the Admiral, and ascertained that the vessel with the seamen had not yet got round. As his own hammock and chest were in her, permission was granted for his remaining on shore till she came into the Sound. Of his ship nothing accurate was known, but it was believed she had gone up the Mediterranean, to join the fleet under Earl St. Vincent.

Frank's ardent attachment to Helen had always exercised a powerful control over his actions. Before her departure from Finchley he had cherished the most sanguine hopes that his affection was returned; nothing, in fact, had ever occurred to raise the slightest doubt in his mind upon the subject; for the course of his love, though unavowed, had experienced no obstruction, nor was it till their separation that he awakened to a painful conviction of the vast difference which existed in their pecuniary circumstances. This raised apprehensions that he might have been deceiving himself, by mistaking the operations of a grateful spirit for feelings of personal regard towards himself.

The mansion of Mr. Wendover was situated on the right bank of the river Fowey, close to the pretty and romantic harbour of the same name. The distance from Plymouth could not exceed twenty miles—the Falmouth coach passed within a short walk of the neighbourhood—a strong westerly breeze was blowing—what, then, prevented him from trying to obtain an interview with the fair girl, and to learn from her own lips the real sentiments which she entertained for him?

Thus argued Frank. The temptation was too powerful to be subdued—his mind was tortured by suspense, and yielding to the quick impulse of his nature, in little more than three hours he was on the borders of the domain of the wealthy merchant—and a lovely place it was. The gradual development of spring was evidenced in the bright tints of the spreading foliage; the young grass was springing in rich luxuriance; art and nature were combined to heighten the beauty of the scenery; and slumbering on the surface of the stream that ran in front of the building, laid a superb little cutter-yacht, rigged with peculiar neatness, and her ensign blowing out freely in the wind. Frank's eyes glistened with the peculiar pleasure that a seaman always experiences when beholding a well-finished piece of work connected with his profession; but that was not all—the young midshipman rightly conjectured that the yacht belonged to Mr. Wendover; Helen had most likely sailed in it; and what would he not have given to have been with her, to display his knowledge of seamanship in managing the vessel.

The little punt, with two men in it, put off from the cutter to the shore; Frank hurried to meet them when they landed; it was a precious opportunity by which he might gain information relative to the family. Flatter a sailor's vanity in reference to his craft, and you at once possess a key to his heart. The young officer praised the beautiful vessel, and having expressed a wish to inspect her closely, he was invited to go on board. This was precisely what he wanted; the men were communicative, and he was not long in ascertaining that Mr. Wendover had been summoned to London on urgent business—that Mrs. Wendover was confined to the house by indisposition—and that Miss Helen was often to be seen taking her lonely walks about the grounds.

The deck of the yacht commanded a full view of the house and lawn, and Frank, whilst learning these particulars, watched eagerly, in hope that Helen would make her appearance; nor was he disappointed, for, after a short interval, a female was observed descending the steps of the mansion, and the spy-glass at once announced to him who it was. He had already taken a hasty survey of the vessel, and having presented a donation to the crew, he requested to be put on shore.

Helen had never ceased to cherish a strong feeling of real affection for Frank Heartwell, but she had never adequately known its power and extent, till the period of their separation; and though her father had not openly declared the occasion of her removal from Finchley, yet love is quick-witted in discovering causes; and knowing his determined character, she saw at once that he had opposed a barrier to her heart's dearest wishes. His conversations relative to her future prospects of aggrandisement opened to her conviction that he expected rigid obedience to his commands. But Helen could not—in fact, she did not try, to conquer the esteem for the young sailor, which had strengthened with her years—he had been the means of rescuing herself and her parents from threatened destruction—gratitude had ripened into love, and had become the sweetest contemplation of her life. Yet Frank had never made any avowal, and doubts similar to his own would at times cross her mind. Mr. Wendover could not but be sensible, by the change in his daughter's health and gaiety, that the disappointment had caused the most acute distress; still, however, he hoped that time would deaden the affliction, and she would forget the young officer. It was in vain, however, that he strove to raise her sunken spirits by excursions of pleasure abroad, and amusing pastimes at home. The bloom was leaving her cheeks, and her beautiful form began to waste away, for there was a sickness at her heart.

When Helen left the house that morning, her thoughts were dwelling upon Frank with all the tenderness of woman's gentle nature; she loved to stroll through the avenues alone, for no one there could disturb her meditations. She was turning the angle of one of the alleys, when Frank stood before her, and, the ardour of her feelings overcoming the coldness of formality, the next instant she was encircled in his arms, whilst unrepressed tears of surprise and delight came gushing from her eyes.

When the first burst of joy at meeting had subsided, they conversed more calmly, and Frank, whose doubts had been at once dispersed through the undisguised manifestations of attachment which his reception had evinced, now unequivocally declared, that "the happiness of his future existence depended upon Helen. He was not insensible to the hostility he must expect to meet with from her father; but he hoped by strenuous exertions in his profession to overcome even that, provided he might rely with confidence on her undeviating regard."

Their interview was not of long duration, but it was decisive to the peace of both. Helen candidly admitted her love for Frank, and though with the acknowledgment came apprehensions of her father's displeasure, yet he tried to soothe her alarm, by assurances that his prospects would brighten—prosperity had already smiled upon him—and could he once attain the rank of captain, he should consider himself eligible to propose to Mr. Wendover for his daughter's hand. At all events, he determined to persevere with unremitting ardour and hope, and enterprise gave promise of success.