He burst into tears, the first she had seen on his face since ever he had come to her house, and all her mother’s heart was sore.
“What mischief were you in?” she asked, putting an arm about his neck, and her troubled face down upon his hair as he shook in his chair. “I am sure you were not to blame. It could not have been much, Gilian. Tuts! tuts!” And so she went on in a ludicrous way, coaxing him to indifference for the sin she fancied.
At last he told her the beginnings of his tragedy, that he had seen the Jean wrecked on Ealan Dubh, and the girl Nan on board of her. She was for a moment dumb with horror, believing the end had come to all upon the vessel, but on this Gilian speedily assured her, and “Oh, am n’t I glad!” said she with a simple utterance and a transport on her visage that showed how deep was her satisfaction.
“How did they get ashore?” she asked,
“In the small boat,” said Gilian uncomfortably. “It caught on the logs at the mouth of the river when she drifted off, and—and—”
“And a boy went out in it and brought them help!” she cried, finely uplifted in a delight that she had guessed the cause of his trepidation. “Oh, you darling! And not to say a word of it! Am not I the proud woman this day? My dear companion Nan’s girl!”
She caught him fervently as he rose ashamed from his seat to explain or to make an escape from the punishment that was in her error, a punishment more severe than if he had been blamed. She was one never prone to the displays of love and rapture, but this time her joy overcame her, and she kissed him with something of a redness on her face. It was to the boy as if he had been smitten on the mouth. He drew back almost rudely in so great a confusion that it but confirmed her guess. “You must come and tell my brothers,” said she, “this very moment. Don’t say anything about the lass, but they’ll be keen to hear about the vessel They sit there hearing nothing of the world’s news, unless it comes to the fireside for them, and then I’ve noticed they’re as ready to listen as Peggy would be at the Cross well.”
She had him half way to the parlour before he thought of a protest, he had found such satisfaction in being relieved from her mistaken pride in him. Then he concluded it was as well to go through with it, thinking that if the rescue of the girl was not to be in the story, his own shortcomings need not emerge. She pushed him before her into the room; her brothers were seated at the fire, and they only turned when her voice, in a very unaccustomed excitement, broke the quietness of the chamber.
“Do you hear this?” she cried, and her hand on Gilian’s shoulder; “a vessel’s sunk on the Ealan Dubh.”
“I knew there would be tales to tell of this,” said the General. “The wind came too close on the frost. I mind at Toulouse——”