He would have plenty of opportunities in his new position for the display of these qualities. It had often caused his father the greatest pain to witness wrecks which he was utterly powerless to aid. One man could do almost nothing alone under such circumstances; and his heart had often ached as he saw noble ships, and more valuable human lives, destroyed on the terrible rocks. But now that his son would be with him, he felt that together they might be the means of saving, not a few, but many. It will therefore be seen that this change contributed more than a little to the joys of that Christmas time. It may be interesting to state that a son of Brooks Darling is now (1876) the keeper of the Souter Point lighthouse, Durham.
It was found on this occasion that there was no need to resort to the usual active Christmas games in order to make the time pass pleasantly, for nothing was so agreeable and interesting to the family now as long conversations. Grace, of course, was ever the chief object of all their admiration, and they never wearied of asking her questions and hearing her account of honours she had received and visits she had paid. Besides talking to them, however, "Aunt Grace" joined in the games, which, for the amusement of the children, were entered into, and the aged couple, Mr. and Mrs. Darling, watched with delight the merry pleasures of their grand-children, and the kindly attentions of their beloved home-staying Grace, who was never too busy or too tired to sing ballads, or tell stories, to the children, who were even now proud and fond of their famous aunt.
But it was after the children had gone to bed that the grown-up people had the best of the pleasure. One night when the weather was wild, and the wind whistled around the house, and the sea was tossing up its dark waves, Robert succeeded in getting from Grace a description of her sensations when she went out to the wreck of the "Forfarshire."
"How did you feel, Grace," he asked, "when you found yourself alone with father out on the stormy water? Confess now that you were very much frightened, and that when you saw how distressed mother was, you were half inclined to give up the attempt.
"No," said Grace; "I shall not confess to that which is not true. I never stopped to think of the danger, and certainly did not in the least realise it. Perhaps, if I had done so, I should have been afraid to venture; but the fact was, I thought of nothing but the awful agony of those who might be drowning. Their shrieks put every thing else out of my head and heart, and the only fear that I had was that we might not reach the wreck in time to be of any use. Even now I often fancy I can hear their screams, and the thought makes me shudder."
"But you could not tell what you might be going to meet. It was quite possible that you should have been yourselves drowned in the attempt," said Robert.
"Oh yes, but I was not afraid of that. I had strength and courage for whatever we might encounter; and when the soldier is not afraid, half the battle is won."
"That is true. But how could you bring yourself to go, Grace, in spite of our mother's prayers and entreaties?"
"Well, my passion to save those drowning creatures swallowed up every other thought. If it had not been so, I could not have disregarded mother's tears as I did. I am not at all surprised that she felt as she expressed herself. It was only natural and right that she should do so. And really, when I think of all that she must have endured when she saw us tossing about on the waves, and knew that perhaps she would never see her beloved husband and wayward daughter again, the wonder is that she was not less composed than she was, and that she had trust and calmness enough to go down to the beach, and help us launch the boat. But, oh, Robert, if you could have seen the joy and thankfulness with which the poor creatures welcomed us—as if we had been angels—you would understand that to do such a thing was worth all the trouble and risk."
"Oh yes; I am sure I should feel the same," said Robert.