One evening our hero, after paying a little unwonted attention to his toilet prepared to set out for Miss Millet’s cottage. He had obtained leave of absence for the evening, and had made up his mind to spend an hour or two in metaphysical discussion. Rose had not yet left her aunt but no matter. If she could not assist in the conversation, she could at all events listen, and might be benefited.
In passing through the station, the officer on duty called to him.
“I want you, Benson, to take Wilson’s place to-night. He is unwell and off duty. We may possibly require all our force, for the barometer has suddenly fallen much lower than usual.”
No shade of disappointment betrayed itself on the grave countenance of the well-disciplined Jeff as he replied, “Very well, sir,” and went out; but profound disappointment nevertheless harrowed his broad bosom, for he had promised himself such a long and pleasant evening of discussion; possibly of benefit to the young girl for whom he cared nothing now—a mere passing fancy, pooh! But even while ejecting the “pooh!” he wondered why the disappointment was so severe. Was it possible that he was being taught by experience the lesson which Miss Millet’s reasoning powers had failed to inculcate?
It was blowing hard when Jeff reached the cliffs, and, bending forward to the increasing blast made his way to the rugged coast which was to be the scene of his night vigil. As he stood on the shore with hands in pockets and legs apart, to steady himself, and gazed out upon the darkening sea, he saw plainly enough that the prophetic barometer was right. Far out on the water a ledge of rocks, barely covered at high water, caught the billows as they rolled shoreward, broke them up, and sent them spouting into the air in volumes of foam. On the horizon the clouds were so black that the shrieking sea-birds passed athwart them like flakes of snow. Low muttering thunder was heard at intervals; and as night drew on, gleams of lightning flashed in the obscurity.
During one of these flashes Jeff thought he saw a vessel labouring heavily. He could not be quite sure, for by that time spray, borne on the whistling wind, was blinding him. Suddenly a red flash was seen, followed by a report. It was a signal of distress.
Every thought and feeling save that of duty was instantly banished from the mind of our coastguardsman, as he hurried away to give the alarm and join in the rescue.