With September the lovely weather suddenly broke up, and a few days later there was a great storm along the eastern seaboard. One morning news came to Heron Dyke that during the night a brig of some three hundred tons burden, the _Seamew_, bound from Dantzic to London, had struck on the Creffel Bank, and lay there a helpless wreck. Two of the crew had been washed overboard; the rest, including the master, were rescued by the Easterby lifeboat. The Creffel Bank was known as one of the most dangerous spots on that part of the coast, and many a gallant craft had gone to pieces on its shifting and treacherous shoals.
Miss Winter at once sent Hubert Stone into the village with instructions to aid the shipwrecked men in whatever way might seem best. All of them, except the captain, expressed a desire to be forwarded to London, and were accordingly packed off by rail, their fares being paid by Hubert. As the brig did not at once break up, when the storm abated several boats went out to her, and in the course of a couple of days succeeded in landing that portion of her cargo which remained unspoiled, and most of her loose fittings; but the little _Seamew_ herself was so deeply imbedded in the sand that it was impossible to get her off, and the next gale would doubtless break her up entirely.
One sunny afternoon, Ella took her sketchbook to the sands, and was dutifully accompanied by Mrs. Toynbee with a novel. But Ella was not long in discovering that she was in no mood for sketching, that she was rather in a mood which inclined to day-dreaming, and to vague golden visions of some far-off future. Could it be that the recent visit of Edward Conroy had anything to do with these idle fancies?
At length she shut up her book with a little gesture of impatience, and strolled slowly down to the farther shore. Mrs. Toynbee sighed and followed meekly. Her seat had been a comfortable one, and she was in the middle of an interesting chapter; but duty is duty, however unpleasant it may be.
The tide was beginning to ebb, and, as the two ladies paced the sands a little above high-water mark, they presently saw a boat propelled by a single rower making for the shore. The rower was Hubert Stone, and the boat belonged to him. He was fond of the water, and often went out for hours at a time, alone or accompanied by some friend. Ella stood and watched the boat coming in. It seemed to be making for the spot where she stood. Hubert's strong and regular strokes propelled it swiftly through the water, and in a little while it shot gently up the sands. Putting down his oars, the young man stood up and raised his straw hat to Miss Winter. How handsome he looked as he stood there in the afternoon sunshine, with his coat thrown carelessly across his arm!
"Have you been far?" asked Ella, when he stepped ashore.
"Only as far as New Nullington and back," answered Hubert.
"It must be very pleasant on the water to-day."
"Very pleasant indeed. There is quite a refreshing breeze when you get a little way out. What do you say, Miss Ella, to letting me pull you and Mrs. Toynbee as far as the _Seamew_ and back?"
Miss Winter looked at Mrs. Toynbee.