“Ah, I was wicked to say what I did,” answered Nelly; “but I am sad about father and you and myself, and very sad, too, about Michael. He will grieve so when he comes home and finds father gone, if he comes at all. And, O granny, I begin to fear that he won’t come home! what has happened to him I cannot tell; and if you had seen the heavy sea there was rolling outside you would fear the worst.”
“Still, Nelly, we must trust in God; if He has taken Michael, He has done it for the best, not the worst, Nelly,” answered Dame Lanreath. “But when I say this, Nelly, I don’t want to stop your tears, they are given in mercy to relieve your grief; but pray to God, Nelly, to help us; He will do so—only trust Him.”
Chapter Five.
The day was drawing to a close when the storm, which had been threatening all the morning on which Paul Trefusis died, swept fiercely up the harbour, showing that the wind had again shifted to the westward.
Poor Nelly, though cast down with grief at her father’s death, could not help trembling as she thought of Michael, exposed as she knew he must be to its rage. Was he, too, to be taken away from them?
She was left much alone, as Dame Lanreath had been engaged, with the assistance of a neighbour, in the sad duty of laying out the dead man. Nelly several times had run out to look down the harbour, hoping against hope that she might see Michael’s boat sailing up it.
At length, in spite of the gale, she made her way to Reuben Lanaherne’s cottage. His wife and daughter were seated at their work, but he was not there. Agitated and breathless from encountering the fierce wind, she could scarcely speak as she entered.
“Sit down, maiden; what ails thee?” said Dame Lanaherne, rising, and kindly placing her on a stool by her side.