"I tell you I will stake my life on the venture," answered Edward, his passion rising high. "Am I speaking to sailors, and can they hesitate when they hear such sounds? Give me but a boat, and I will go by myself: and when you need aid, may you find those to give it! you will scarce dare ask it, if that vessel perish before your eyes. Lend me a boat, I say, fitted for such a sea, and the lender shall be rewarded handsomely. If there be such risk, I ask none to share it; my life is my own, and I will peril it."
It would have made a fine scene for a painter, that young, slight form and boyish face, surrounded by those weather-beaten men, every countenance expressing some different emotion, yet almost all unwilling admiration; the torches' glare, so lurid on the pitchy darkness; the sheets of foam, rising and falling like showers of dazzling snow; the craggy background; and, out at sea, the unfortunate vessel, a perfect wreck, struggling still with the fast-rising waters. Mr. Howard saw all, but with no thought of the picturesque, his mind was far otherwise engaged.
"By Neptune! but your honor shall not go alone! I have neither parent, nor sister, nor wife to pipe for me, if I go; so my life must be of less moment than yours, and if you can so peril it, why should not I?" exclaimed a stalwart young fisherman, advancing, and Edward eagerly grasped his rough hand, conjuring him to get his boat at once, there was not a moment to lose; but the example was infectious, and an old man hastily stepped forward, declaring the youngsters had taught him his duty, and he would do it.
"Great God! what do they say?" exclaimed Edward, as his younger companion hastened down the beach to bring his boat to the leeward of the cliff, to launch it more securely, and a rumor ran through the crowds, whence arising it was impossible to discover. "The Siren—Captain Harvey—my uncle's ship!—and he must be in her—she would never leave Feroe without him. What foundation is there for this rumor? let me know, for God's sake!"
But none could tell more than that a vessel, entering the harbor just before the gale, had hailed the Siren, about twenty miles distant, and she seemed laboring heavily, and in such a distressed state that a very little would finish her. Not a word escaped Edward's lips which grew for the moment blanched as marble. Mr. Howard to whom the rumor had brought the most intense agony, for not a doubt of its truth would come to relieve him, was at his side, grasping his hand, and murmuring, hoarsely—
"Edward, my poor boy, must your life be periled too?—both—both—this is awful!"
"Let me but save him, and if I perish it will be in a good cause. Tell aunt Emmeline, I know she will comfort my poor Ellen; and that the boy she has saved from worse misery than death, did all he could to save her husband! and if I fail"—he stopped, in strong emotion, then added—"give Ellen this, and this," he cut off a lock of his hair with his dirk, and placed it and his watch in Mr. Howard's trembling hand.—"And now, my friend, God bless you and reward you, too!" He threw himself a moment in Mr. Howard's arms, kissed his cheek, and, darting down the beach, leaped into the boat, which was dancing like a nutshell on the water. It was several minutes, ere they could succeed in getting her off, the waves seeming determined to cast her back; but they were fairly launched at length, and then they heeded not that one minute they rode high on a mountain wave, seeming as if nothing could save them from being dashed in the abyss below; the next were buried in a deep valley, surrounded by huge walls of water, threatening to burst and overwhelm them. For a boat to live in such a sea at all seemed miraculous; and old Collins always declared that unless some angel sat at the helm with Edward, no human arm could have taken them in safety. If it were an angel, it was the pure thought, the faith-winged prayer, that he might be the instrument in the Eternal's hand, of turning aside death and misery from that beloved home, in which even his errors had been met with love, and conquered by forgiveness.
With every effort, and they were such as to bid the perspiration stream down the face and arms of those strong men, and almost exhaust Edward, for he took an oar in turn, it was full an hour from their leaving the shore before they reached the ship. She had ceased firing, for by the lights on shore they had discovered the boat's departure, and watched her progress by the lantern at her head, as only those can watch who feel, one short hour more, and their ship will float no longer!
Collins was spokesman, for Edward, as they grappled the boat alongside, had sunk down for the moment powerless by the helm; roused, however, effectually by the answer—
"The Siren—bound to Dartmouth—from Feroe—owner Arthur Hamilton, passenger—now on board—nine in crew."