Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and IIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Murder -- Fiction
There was another anxious pause, as she cut her way, on coming nearer
and nearer to the rock; but the captain's eye was fixed upon it, and
rushing on with awful rapidity, she passed at what seemed less than
half a cable's length; and to the relief of all who watched, the line
of coast on the other side of the promontory was seen running off to
the northeast, in the form of a deep and sheltered bay.
"There," said the captain, when the point was rounded--"there! there
is not a vessel on this coast would have done that but the Hannah.
Here Tom, take the helm!" and without resuming his conversation with
Charles Tyrrell, he took a night-glass and looked out to windward
after the cutter.
"Well, it is wonderful!" he said at length, "I can't think it natural
to see anything going almost right in the teeth of the wind. But I can
tell that fellow what--if he have not got the devil on board, he'll be
upon the hog's back before an hour's over. Howsoever, sir," he
continued, turning to his passenger, "there is no time to be lost for
you. As soon as we get a little under the lee of the land, I'll have
the boat out, to take you, and Hailes, and the lady, ashore. Get away
across the country as quickly as you can, to Wrexton. There you'll
find a little bit of an inn, where you can stay till I send the boat
for you again. Better go down and tell her, for five minutes will
bring us into smooth water; and if that fellow clears the hog's back,
which I don't think he will, he'll be overhauling us as soon as he
gets into the bay."
Charles Tyrrell needed no second bidding, but hurried down, to prepare
Lucy for this new change. He found her pale and agitated, but still
firm, and ready to follow at once any wish that he might express.
While left alone in solitude to her own thoughts, everything around
her had, indeed, appeared terrific; the rushing and dashing of the
waves against the side of the ship, the excessive heeling of the
vessel, the frequent strokes of the waves, which seemed as if they
would have rent her from stem to stern, the howling of the wind, the
rattling of the cordage, had all been heard, as she sat and listened,
and had filled her mind with apprehensions of the darkest character.
All this reconciled her, however, wonderfully to the idea of landing
again so speedily. Already the water was smoother, and the wind less
felt, and she hurried the few preparations that were necessary,
desiring the maid to rise and accompany her, which she doubted not
that she would do with the greatest alacrity and willingness. The
woman, however, showed, not the slightest inclination to stir.
Overpowered with sea-sickness, the most selfish of all maladies, she
said she could not rise, and she would not; and if she were to die,
that she would rather lie and die where she was, than go in a little
boat, at that time of night and be drowned.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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