Chapter Fifteen.
The “Good Sarah’s” Forget-me-nots.
“Tell me, is there any danger?” asked Mrs Gilmour, speaking quite calmly, in spite of her fears; for, although of a somewhat hasty disposition and apt to be put out at trifles, she was possessed of a strong, natural courage, which, as is the case with most of the so-called “tender sex,” only displayed itself in great emergencies. “You may disclose the worst. I can bear it!”
“Pooh!” grunted the Captain off-hand, rather impolitely. “There’s no ‘worst’ to tell, ma’am. All on board are quite safe, and will be put ashore securely as soon as the boats come off. My fears are for the unfortunate vessel, the loss of which will be a sad blow to her skipper, poor fellow, as he has staked his all in her!”
“But, Captain,” she rejoined, “why do you look so serious?”
“Serious?” he repeated after her, the hard lines in his face at once relaxing—“so would you, too, look serious, ma’am, if you thought of the matter in the same light. You see, I can’t help looking upon a ship as a sort of living creature; and to think of a fine boat like this coming to grief in such a lubberly fashion is enough almost to make one cry!”
His eyes blinked furiously as he said this, the bushy eyebrows above moving up and down; and, taking out his bright bandana handkerchief, he blew his nose with vigour, as if to give vent to his emotion,
Nellie, whose pale face had gained a little more colour since the Captain’s reassuring words to her aunt, now sidled up to him, catching hold of his hand affectionately.