“Mrs. Arthur’s husband had been killed in a fray with the smugglers, and she enjoyed a small Government pension, which enabled her to bring up her boys decently, and maintain a respectable appearance. My father tried his best to induce Mrs. Arthur to be his second wife, but she steadily refused his offer, though the family continued to live on terms of the strictest friendship.
“Mrs. Arthur’s sons, John and David, were the handsomest and cleverest lads of their class, between this and the port of Y——. They both followed the sea, and after serving their apprenticeships with my father, John got the command of the Nancy, a new vessel that was employed in the merchant trade, and made short voyages between this and London. David, who was two years younger, sailed with his brother as mate of the Nancy.
“David and I had been sweethearts from our school-days,—from a child in frocks and trowsers, he had always called me ‘his dear little wife.’ Time only strengthened our attachment to each other, and my father and his mother were well-pleased with the match. It was settled by all parties, that we were to be married directly David could get captain of a ship.
“Mrs. Arthur was very proud of her sons; but David, who was by far the handsomest of the two, was her especial favourite. I never saw the young sailor leave the house without kissing his mother, or return from a voyage without bringing her a present. I used to tell him, ‘There was only one person he loved better than me, and that was his mother;’ and he would laugh, and say,—‘Not better, Betsy,—but ’tis a different love altogether.’
“I must confess I was rather jealous of his mother. I did not wish him to love her less, but to love me more. Whenever he left us for sea, he used to tell me the very last thing—‘Show your love to me, dear Betsy, by being kind to my dear old mother. When you are my wife, I will repay it with interest.’
“During his absence, I always went every day to see Mrs. Arthur, and to render her any little service in my power. She was very fond of me, always calling me ‘her little daughter,—her own dear Betsy.’ Her conversation was always about her sons, and David in particular, which rendered these visits very agreeable to me, who loved David better than anything else under heaven. He was never out of my thoughts, I worshipped him so completely.
“It was the latter end of February that the Arthurs made their last voyage together. David was to sail as captain, in a fine merchant-ship, the first of May; and everything had been arranged for our marriage, which was to take place the tenth of April; and I was to make a bridal tour to London with my husband in the new ship. I was wild with anticipation and delight, and would let my work drop from my hands twenty times a-day, while building castles for the future. No other girl’s husband would be able to rival my husband; no home could be as happy as my home; no bride so well beloved as me.
“It was the twentieth of March, 18—; I recollect it as well as if it were only yesterday. The day was bright, clear, and cold, with high winds and a very stormy sea. The Nancy had been expected to make her port all that week, and Mrs. Arthur was very uneasy at her delay. She was never happy or contented when her sons were at sea, but in a constant fidget of anxiety and fear. She did not like both sailing in the same vessel. ‘It is too much,’ she would say—‘the safety of two lives out of one family—to be trusted to one keel.’ This morning she was more fretful and nervous than usual.
“‘What can these foolish boys be thinking of, Betsy, to delay their voyage in this way? They will in all probability be caught in the equinoctial gales. David promised me faithfully to be back before the eighteenth. Dear me! how the wind blows! The very sound of it is enough to chill one’s heart. What a stormy sea! I hope they will not sail till the day after to-morrow.’
“Now, I felt a certain conviction in my own mind that they had sailed, and were at that moment on the sea; but, I must confess, I apprehended no danger. It might be that her fears hindered me from indulging fears of my own.