A STORY FOR GIRLS.
By EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN, Author of “Greyfriars,” “Half-a-dozen Sisters,” etc.
CHAPTER XII.
A FAIR ISLAND.
“Oh, how lovely!” cried Sheila.
The glow of a golden sunset was on sea and shore, as the great vessel rounded the corner and came into view of the harbour of Funchal. The lonely Desertas to their left lay bathed in the reflected light from the westering sun, whilst upon their right lay the fair island of Madeira, its wild mountain range cleft with great ravines, and dotted with innumerable quintas and little houses shining in a sort of shimmering glory, the white city with its many buildings and spires lying peacefully on the margin of the sea, the shore alive with little boats, looking like so many caterpillars upon the green water as the rowers pushed them outwards towards the great in-coming steamer.
“Oh, Miss Adene, I am quite sorry the voyage is over; but how lovely Madeira is!”
“Yes, I told you you would be pleased! And see over yonder, beyond the town, on that sort of promontory as it looks from here, that is the New Hotel, where we are all going. It looks a little bare from here, but the garden is a wilderness of flowers when we get there. It is the most homelike hotel I was ever in, and I have had a good many experiences. Yes, those boats are to take us off. We cannot get very close inshore. The harbourage is not good, and in rough weather the mails have to stand a good way out, and I have known passengers swung on board in baskets by the steam-crane. But that is quite exceptional. Generally it is like to-day, calm and quiet, and the boats take us off without any trouble. Mr. Reid will come out in one, and take all trouble off our hands. We just give him our keys and tell him the number of our boxes, and he passes it through the Customs and brings it up, and we have no sort of trouble at all.”
Mrs. Cossart was very much relieved to find how easily everything was done when once the kindly hotel proprietor came on board. She was able to give her undivided care to Effie, whilst Sheila was running about saying good-bye to captain, officers, and such passengers as were going on to the Cape or the Canaries, and in the end found herself left behind by that boat, and had to go ashore under Miss Adene’s wing, which, however, troubled her no whit.
“A bullock-cart! Oof! How perfectly delicious!” she cried, as they were shown the conveyance in which they were to be carried to the hotel. “Oh, you dear creatures! What sweet faces they have! Oh, I hope they are kind to you! Miss Adene, isn’t it lovely to go in a bullock-cart? Oh, I hope it is a long way!”