Won from the Waves

by William Henry Giles Kingston

May’s dress, though plain and simple in the extreme, was such as was suited for the companion of the well-born Miss Pemberton’s, and she had entwined herself so completely round their hearts that they regarded her in the light of a beloved niece. She had now for sometime resided entirely with them. She, however, paid frequent visits to her kind foster father and mother, as she now called Adam and his wife.

It had been a hard struggle to Dame Halliburt and her husband to part with her, but they saw clearly that it would be for her benefit, and that their cottage was not a fit abode for a young girl destined to occupy a higher rank than their own. Even they felt that there was already a broad line between them, and the dame, not having forgotten her own training in a gentleman’s family, could not help treating May with much more deference than she would have shown to her had she been really her daughter.

May herself, conscious of the change in the dame’s manner, could scarcely tell why she had become so much more formal than she used to be, though she had too much confidence in the kind woman’s love to suppose that it arose from any want of affection. Adam was, however, as hearty as ever, but then he had for long treated her with a certain amount of respect, moderating that exhibition of his affection his big warm heart would have inclined him to bestow. He still generally called her his Maiden May, but sometimes addressed her as Mistress May, and seldom offered to press the hearty kiss on her fair brow with which he had been accustomed to greet her after a day’s absence.

Adam and the dame had undergone severe trials during the last years, though they bore up under them with christian fortitude and resignation. Their second son Sam had been crossed in love, and as a consequence went off to sea on board a man-of-war. He was a steady well-conducted young man. He had become a petty officer, and there was every prospect of his doing well.

A short time after Sam had gone to sea Ben, who was his father’s main-stay, had on one occasion gone to Morbury, just at the time when press-gangs were hard at work along the coast, laying hands on every seafaring person, whether willing or unwilling, to man the fleet. Ben, not suspecting danger, was walking along the quay, when a party of seamen rushed out of a public-house and surrounded him. Though he endeavoured to make his escape, he was quickly overpowered, and being dragged into a boat, was carried on board a cutter outside the harbour. As many other brave fellows acted when he found his fate inevitable, he submitted with a good grace, and determined to do his duty.

He did not return, and for several days Adam could gain no tidings of his son, though he suspected what had occurred. At length he received a letter from Ben saying that he had been seized by a pressgang, and that he was on board a frigate destined for the East India station. Adam went to Mr Shallard with a message from the Miss Pemberton’s saying they would be answerable for any sum required to obtain Ben’s discharge, but the lawyer feared that so urgent was the need of men for the navy that success was improbable. He did his best, but before any effort could be made to obtain his discharge, the frigate sailed, carrying Ben as one of her crew.

Thus Adam was deprived of the services of his two elder sons. Still he hoped that they would some day return, and be again able to assist him on board the Nancy.

A still greater blow, however, was in store for him and his wife. News came that the ship on board which Sam was serving had been engaged in action, and as they anxiously read the account of the battle, their eyes fell on his name in the list of killed.

“God’s will be done! Poor Sam,” exclaimed Adam, with a deep groan.

The dame expressed her grief in a louder manner, but honest Adam’s was the deepest.