Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798 — John Shaqi
Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798Reed, Talbot Baines
History
Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798
Reed, Talbot Baines
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Juvenile fiction; Ireland -- Juvenile fiction
"No, Miss Kit," said I; "it takes a man to send her through when the
weather gets up. Pull the wrap well about you, and make up your mind
for a wetting."
She sniffed a little at my tone.
"I see you are captain of this ship," said she.
"Ay, ay; and I've a valuable freight aboard," said I.
Whereat she gave it up, and sat with her hair waving in the wind and her
sailor's wrap about her shoulders.
It was a nasty, sudden squall, with a shower of hail and half a cap of
wind in it. Luckily it was straight behind us. Had we been crossing
it, it would have caught us badly. As it was, although it gave us a
great toss, and now and then sent a drenching wave over our backs and
heads, we were in no real peril. Our only difficulty was that, unless
it eased off before we came within reach of Knockowen, we should have to
cross it to get home. But that was far enough away yet.
Miss Kit, who for all her pretty bragging had had little commerce in the
mighty deep, sat still for a while, startled by the sudden violence of
the wind and the onslaught of the waves behind us. But as soon as she
discovered that all the harm they did was to wet her pretty head and
drench her boxes, and when, moreover, she satisfied herself by a chance
glance or two at my face that there was nothing to fear, she began to
enjoy the novel experience, and even laughed to see how the boat tore
through the water.
"Why can't we go on like this, straight out to the open sea?" said she.
"We could do many a thing less easy," said I. "It's well Knockowen's no
nearer the open sea than it is."
"Why?"
"If it was as far as Kilgorman," said I, "we'd meet the tide coming in,
and then it would be a hard sea to weather."
"Kilgorman!" said she, catching at the name; "were you ever there,
Barry?"
"Once," said I guiltily, "when I should not have been. And I suffered
for it."
"How? what happened?"
"Indeed, Miss Kit; it's not for the likes of you to hear; and his honour
would be mad if he knew of it."
"You think I'm a tell-tale," said she. "I'm your mistress, and I order
you to tell me."
"Faith, then, I saw a ghost, mistress!"
She laughed, and pleasant the sound was amid the noise of the storm.
"You won't make me believe you're such a fool as that," said she. "It's
only wicked people who see ghosts."
"Sure, then, I'm thinking it'll be long till you see one, Miss Kit. But
mind now; we must put her a little away from the wind to make Knockowen.
Sit fast, and don't mind a wave or two."
Now began the dangerous part of our voyage. The moment we put her head
in for Knockowen, the waves began to break heavily over the stern,
sometimes almost knocking the tiller from my hand, sometimes compelling
us to run back into the wind to save being swamped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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