Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore

by George Manville Fenn

“But are we safe, sir?” said Bob, with tribulation in his voice.

“Perfectly, my lad, so long as you don’t roll off the ledge, which, of course, you will not do. There, boys, let’s look on the bright side of it all, and be very thankful that we have reached so comfortable a haven. Make the best of it, and think you are on an uninhabited island waiting for rescue to come, with the pleasant knowledge that it won’t be long.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” I said.

“Nor I,” cried Bigley.

“I rather like it,” said Bob, with a very physicky face.

“Then, choose your places, boys,” said my father, “and we’ll sit and sing and tell stories, after we have grown tired of watching the glorious sunset; for, my lads, while we are talking see what a magnificent sea and sky are spread before you.”

We looked out from our niche under the stony canopy, to see that the sky was one blaze of orange, and gold, and fiery red, which in turn seemed to stain the sea, as if it was all liquid topaz, and sapphire, and amethyst, like the old jewels that had belonged to my mother, and which I had sometimes seen in my father’s desk. Nothing, I suppose, could have been more lovely, nothing more grand. If we looked to the left, the rocky cliff was all glow hero, all dark purple shadow there, and the clustering oaks that ran right up to the top were as if they were golden green. If we looked to the right, the cliffs seemed as if on fire where the rock was bare, and as our eyes fell to where the tide was coming in, the waves, as they curled over, were burnished, and flashed and glowed like liquid fire.

It was all grand in the extreme, but somehow I felt, as did Bob and Bigley, that a well-spread tea-table with some hot fried ham and some eggs, with new bread, would have been worth it all.

I am almost ashamed to put this down, but my companions confided their feelings to me afterwards, and it is perfectly true.

By degrees the bright colours on the sea and overspreading the sky faded out, and all grew dark, save where there was a glow in the north. The stars had come out bright and clear, and covered the sky like so many points of light looking down at themselves in the mirror-like sea. The tide came up fast, and as the waves heaved and swayed and ran in, it seemed as if they were sweeping before them myriads and myriads of stars, for the water was covered with light, some being the reflections from the sky, others the curious little specks that we used to see in the water in warm weather.