Such, sir, is an account of my speculations, and the losses and crosses with which they have been attended. But success and happiness have predominated; and I must say that I am happier now than ever. And at the season when Rachel and Thomas come down to see us, with the bairns, and they run romping about with Elizabeth's, who are two interesting creatures, and three or four will be crying at once, "Granny this, and granny that," I believe there is not a happier auld woman in Britain than my Priscilla, who first enabled me to speculate to some purpose.
THE SEA-STORM.
It was a beautiful, calm afternoon in summer; the surface of the Solway was as smooth as glass, for it was just high-water, and there was scarcely wind enough to dimple its surface, or to raise the dense train of smoke which the Liverpool steamer left behind her, as she came rapidly and steadily bearing down from Port Carlisle towards Annan Water-foot, where a crowd of passengers were anxiously expecting her arrival. The air was so still that the sound of her paddles, and the rush of water from her bows, were distinctly heard a great distance, and the toll of the bell of Bowness Church fell full and clear upon the ears of the dweller on the Scottish coast. Here and there a solitary sea-gull soared lazily over his shadow in the water, and then bending downwards, dipped his wing in the smooth stream, rising up again with a sharp, quick turn, and a shrill scream, which sounded rather ominously, particularly as there was a kind of bright, hazy indistinctness hanging over the whole scene, and a close, suffocating oppression in the atmosphere, foretelling change and storm. The wooden jetty at the water-foot was crowded with people—some about to embark for Liverpool, others attracted by curiosity, and by the beauty of the afternoon. On the road near the jetty lay a large flock of sheep, and several cattle, ready for embarkation; and Ambrose Clarke's Dumfries coach, and other conveyances, stood at hand, ready to transfer their freights into the steamboat. It was altogether a beautiful and exciting scene; bright and joyous summer seemed to have shed its cheering influence over the spirit of man, as well as over the face of nature; and, amid the throng around me, I did not remark a single unhappy countenance. At length the steamboat bore up for the mouth of the Annan, and, after a great deal of manœuvring with the paddles, was laid safely alongside the jetty. Then came the tug of war, and the peaceful quiet of the calm afternoon was disturbed by the loud and various sounds of embarkation. The bleating of sheep, the bellowing of cattle, the loud shouts of their drivers; the elbowing and jostling of passengers of various classes making a rush on board, dragging after them their trunks or portmanteaus, regardless of legs or elbows in their progress; and, over and above all, the loud, deafening, rushing, roaring noise of the steam, like the voice of some giant bellowing to them all to be as quick as possible—converted the late quiet scene into one of Babel-like confusion. At length the sheep were comfortably wedged up together, and the cattle secured; and then the bell rang as a warning to those who were going to stay on board, and to those who were staying on board too long, to take their departure.
While standing on the jetty, I had exchanged a few commonplace remarks with a frank, middle-aged, gentlemanly-looking man standing near me, who, like myself, was en route for Liverpool; and when the steamboat was fairly off, I made up to my new acquaintance again, and we had a long and amusing conversation together. To those who are fond of studying human character, and who derive amusement from observing its numerous varieties, a public conveyance of any kind is an interesting study—a cabinet in which they may chance to meet with strange and rare specimens to add to their collection of human originals. I do not envy the man who seems to think the warning bell of the steamboat, or the shutting of the door of the stage-coach, a signal to him to close the door of his mouth and ears; and who can doze away in a corner, uninterested and uninteresting, and leaves the conveyance, as he entered it, dull and heavy, uncomfortable and discontented himself, and a species of incubus upon the spirits of his companions.
We had only left our port about two hours, when the sky began to overcast, and heavy clouds rose slowly from the horizon. The wind seemed to be awaiting in silence, and reserving its strength for the approaching conflict of the elements, for there was not a breath stirring; the sea-birds shrieked around us, as if to warn us of approaching danger; and the smoke from the engine-fire hung heavily over the deck, and covered the water around us, as if to hide us from the coming storm. At length the forerunner of the squall appeared in the shape of a broad, bright, sudden blaze of lightning, followed by a rattling peal of thunder, which seemed to have burst open the floodgates of heaven, for the rain descended in torrents from the overcharged clouds, while flash followed flash, and peal followed peal, in rapid succession. A light breeze soon springing up from the south, the flashes of lightning became less and less vivid; and we heard, afar off, the low growling of the thunder, as the clouds slowly and unwillingly retreated before the wind, which now freshened up rapidly. In a short time it blew a gale, and occasioned such a heavy sea, that most of the passengers were driven below by the violent motion of the vessel. I, being an old stager, preferred the cool breeze on deck, to the close, confined air of the cabin; and, to my great surprise, saw my new and agreeable acquaintance walking up and down the deck as unconcernedly as if the boat were lying at the jetty.
"You seem to have excellent sea-legs, sir," said I; "you walk the deck with the confidence of one to whom such unsteady footing is familiar; you do not look like a sailor, but still I am greatly mistaken if this is the first time you have been in a gale of wind."
"You are right," replied he, "in both your conjectures: I am not a sailor by profession, and I have been in many a gale. I owe the greatest happiness of my life to a storm and its consequences."
"Indeed!" said I; "if it is not asking too much, will you favour me with an account of the adventure to which you allude?—it will serve to beguile the time till we turn in."
"With all my heart," said he; "and with the greater pleasure, because I perceive you are a sailor, and will understand me. If you find me tedious, remember you have yourself to blame for the infliction:"—