The Twa Miss Dawsons

by Margaret M. Robertson

It was a very handsome face, but for that Mr Manners would have cared little. It was a noble face, strong and true; a face to trust, “a face to love,” said he to himself. He had heard of Willie Calderwood before, as he had by this time heard of the most of May’s friends, and he had gathered more from the story than May had meant to tell. And now he noticed that the handsome face had hardly turned towards Jean, and that Jean had not spoken since he came into the room.

Mr Dawson opened his letter with fingers that trembled. There was only a line or two, and when he had read it, he laid it on the table, and laid his face down upon it without a word; and when he lifted it again there were tears upon it.

“Oh, Willie, man! if ye had brought him home! There is nothing of mine but ye might have had for the asking, if ye had but brought him home!”

The young man rose and walked up and down the room once or twice, and then sat down again, saying gently,—

“I had no right to prevent his going. He was in his lather’s ship of his own will, and though he submitted to command through all the voyage, that was of his own will too. And I am no’ sure that I would have kept him, even if I could have done it. It was to save life that he went. Danger? Well, it turned out that there was really less danger than was supposed when he offered to go. I went on board with him and we overhauled the ship and did what was needed to make all safe. As to its being his duty—he had no doubts o’ that. It was to save life.”

“Dinna go yet, Willie, man,” said Mr Dawson, putting out his hand as the mate rose. “We are a’ friends here. This is Hugh Corbett, his father was your father’s friend. And this is Mr Manners who has come seeking our May. It is no secret now, my lassie.”

The two shook hands heartily—each “kenning a man when he saw him.” And then the sailor offered his hand to May. And if Jean had had any doubts remaining as to the nature of the mutual interest of these two they were set at rest now. May blushed, but met his look frankly, and for the first time since he came Willie smiled brightly—a smile that “minded” Jean of the days before trouble of any kind had fallen upon them.

The rest of the story might have kept till another day, as Willie said, but he yielded to entreaty and sat down again. He had nothing to tell of George’s story before he found him on board ship. He had come home meaning to see his father, but had fallen into bad hands, and, discouraged and ashamed, had changed his mind, not caring whether he lived or died. If he had not been allowed to go in the “John Seaton,” there were other vessels leaving Portie in which he could have sailed.

“I could only have kept him at home by using force, or by betraying him, as he called it. I thought he was better at sea with a friend than on shore with those who did him no good—for home he would not go. So I risked the captain’s anger and said nothing. But I never supposed but you would hear about his sailing, as there must have been more than one who knew it.”

No one made any reply to this. Captain Horne, a good and just, but stern man, was sorely displeased when he found that his owner’s son had sailed secretly with them; and he showed his displeasure by ignoring his presence on board after the very first, and leaving him to suffer all the hardships of the lot he had chosen. George accepted the situation, asked no favours, and shirked no duty, but lived in the forecastle, and fared as the rest fared there.