“Of course,” said Denis confidently—“But there’s no fear of a storm to-night. We are safe enough.”
As he spoke there came a sudden crash and crack—they had gone straight on a sharp rock!—a treacherous rock, hidden in the waves and unknown to any but experienced sailors. Their boat was splitting! The water rushed in—Denis looked about him in despair. They were three or four miles from the shore—poor Nanette screamed loudly.
“Be quiet!” cried her brother; “I will save you, dear! I can swim!” And, flinging off all the clothes that might impede his movements, he threw one strong arm round his sister, who was now speechless with terror, and plunging boldly into the waves with her, made gallant efforts to reach the land. As they left it, their boat parted asunder and broke in pieces. Oh, what fearful moments were those in which the unhappy children struggled for life and death, battling with the cruel sea!
Thoughts of their mother,—the disobedience they had shown towards her,—the picture of her despair and sorrow when she should hear of their dreadful end,—all the little touching memories of home swarmed thickly in upon them,—and Nanette gasped for breath.
“Are we going to die?” she muttered feebly.
“Yes, dear,” said poor Denis, “I am afraid so. My strength is going. I can’t swim any more.”
Then came a terrible moment, when all around them seemed of a blood-red colour—then it changed to a vivid green. The moon itself, the sky, the stars, all became green as the green water,—then gradually the arms of Denis relaxed, and the poor children sank together, down, down to their deaths. The moon shone, and the stars sparkled as brilliantly as ever, and only the floating pieces of the little boat remained on the rippling sea. Only the wreck?—No—there was something else,—the wooden shoes! They had been loosened by the movement of the waves from the feet of the poor little Nanette, and there they were, on their travels as before. They felt dreadfully miserable, and were very much shocked and frightened at the sudden and tragic end of their late owner.
“She disobeyed her mother,” thought they,—and they quivered and creaked as the water carried them along, for they remembered their own disobedience when they were ducklings; but they had not much time to think seriously, for they were now in the open sea, and they were obliged to go at a very rapid rate. After several days and nights of journeying without any fresh adventures, they arrived at a part of the ocean where a dreadful storm was raging. The sky was black as ink, and the thunder rolled and crashed among the clouds in a frightful manner. Suddenly a blaze of red fire sprang up into the sky—then another and another, and the shoes saw they were signal rockets from a ship in distress. Swimming on and on, they at last perceived an enormous vessel rocking to and fro on the mountainous waves, and they heard her tall masts fall, splintered by the lightning. Suddenly there came a great crash,—a gurgling noise,—and then all was over. Now and then the shoes saw some unhappy creature struggling with the great waves for a few seconds and then sucked down in an abyss to certain destruction. They were very much terrified at this dreadful scene, and they were trying to swim out of it as fast as possible, when they found themselves clutched by a man’s hand, probably in mistake for a plank or spar. The man was in the last agonies of drowning, and as he released his grasp of the wooden shoes, a flash of lightning illumined for a moment his ghastly and contorted features. Struggling to lift himself above the riotous and lofty billows, he cried, “Mother! mother! forgive my long disobedience!”
And with this last supreme effort of strength, the unfortunate sailor sank and was lost for ever.
The wooden shoes were now completely horrified at the awful sights it had been their lot to see.