The Settlers: A Tale of Virginia

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Wait a bit,” answered Gilbert; “my experience is not very great, but I can tell you that the ocean is not always in its present humour, and that we may have another account to give before we reach the shores of Virginia.”

Still the fine weather continued; and at length so completely did the wind fall that the ships lay rolling their sides slowly to and fro, their tall masts reflected in the mirror-like ocean, it being necessary even for the boats to be lowered to keep them apart. The opportunity was taken by many to visit each other’s ships. Vaughan went with his brother on board the Rainbow, and Mistress Cicely welcomed him in a way which made him wish that he might continue the voyage with her; but he remembered that his mother and sister were on board the Sea Venture, and that duty required him to be with them, that, should any mishap occur, he might be at his post to protect them as far as he had the power. Roger Layton received a similar welcome from Lettice; although he had not spoken to her, she was perfectly well acquainted with the state of his heart, and knowing that he was equally well acquainted with hers, she remained satisfied that God would order all for the best. Mistress Audley was well pleased with the young sailor; she had discerned his good qualities, and the wealth he would inherit from his father was sufficient for the position in life she desired for her daughter. There is an old saying that “the course of true love never did run smooth;” in this instance it seemed, however, that the proverb was not to prove a correct one.

As darkness was coming on, the admiral ordered the boats to return to their respective ships, and the lights in the lanterns on the stern of the Sea Venture were kindled for the guidance of the fleet at night. Towards morning there was a change in the weather. Dark clouds were chasing each other rapidly across the sky; the sea, of a leaden hue, tossed and tumbled with foaming crests; the seamen were busy aloft furling sails, and the ships, which had hitherto kept close together, now, for safety’s sake, separated widely. The wind whistled in the shrouds; the waves dashed against the lofty sides of the Sea Venture, whose fortunes we must now follow. Still the stout ship kept her course, under reduced canvas.

“I told you, Ned, that it was not always calm and sunshine,” observed Gilbert, while he and his friends clung to the weather-bulwarks as the ship plunged into the heavy seas. “I wonder how the other ships are faring? Let us climb into the main-rigging and see.”

Fenton, Oliver, and he did as proposed, and holding on to the shrouds they gazed over the storm-tossed ocean. Every instant the wind was increasing in strength, and the waves in height, amid which the other ships were seen tossing and tumbling, thrown, as it were from sea to sea, with but a small amount of canvas to steady them, and even then it seemed as much as they could bear.

“I wonder which is the Rainbow,” continued Gilbert; “Vaughan and Lettice will be watching her with no small anxiety. See, there they stand on the poop-deck, straining their eyes towards the ship they suppose to be her: truly, I should grieve were any misfortune to happen to those on board.”

“So should I,” said Fenton; “but it is a hard matter to make out which is the Rainbow, though I thought that I could distinguish her from the rest.”

Every moment the gale increased, and the seas rose higher and higher; six strong men were at the helm, but even then with difficulty could the ship be steered. The sails were closely furled, with the exception of a small foretopsail, and away the stout ship flew—now dipping into one sea, the foaming crest of which came rushing over the deck, now rising to the summit of another. Still Lettice, with her brother’s arm round her waist to secure her, stood on the poop; her face was pale, though not with alarm for herself or those with her so much as for the Rainbow, for she naturally thought “if such is the buffeting our large ship is receiving, what must be the condition of so small a bark as the Rainbow,” towards which ship her and her brother’s eyes were cast, as they supposed. Those who could have distinguished one ship from the other were busy in attending to their respective duties.

Gilbert and his messmates still kept their post; they, too, were watching, as they believed, the Rainbow, which was endeavouring, as it seemed, to set more canvas, to bear up for the Admiral. Now she appeared sinking into the deep trough of the sea, now tossed up helplessly to the summit of another, again to descend, when her hull could scarcely be distinguished amid the masses of foam which danced madly round her. As she lay deep down in the watery valley a huge sea rolled over her deck, and she did not rise again on the other side. A cry escaped from the three lads: “She’s gone! she’s gone!”—echoed by many on deck.

Lettice, with straining eyes, gazed at the spot where the ship had been. Vaughan, his heart torn with anguish, endeavoured to support her, but could ill restrain his own feelings, believing as he did that Cicely had perished. The admiral had seen what had occurred, and with gentle force conveyed her to the cabin, where she could receive from her mother that comfort she needed so much; while the governor with friendly sympathy, taking Vaughan’s arm, endeavoured to calm his agitation and prevent him from madly leaping into the sea.