The Long VacationYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
History
The Long Vacation
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
Upper class -- England -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Vacations -- Fiction
It would be a Saturday, a whole holiday, on which he generally went home
for Sunday, and Adrian spent the day with him, but the boys’ present
scheme was, to take their luncheon with them and spend the whole day in
Anscombe Cove. This was on the further side of the bay from the marble
works, shut in by big cliffs, which ran out into long chains of rocks on
either side, but retreated in the midst, where a little stream from the
village of Anscombe, or rather from the moorland beyond, made its way to
the sea.
The almanacks avouched that on this Saturday there would be an unusually
low tide, soon after twelve o’clock, and Fergus had set his heart on
investigating the buried forest that there was no doubt had been choked
by the combined forces of river and sea. So Anna found that notice had
been sent to Clipstone of his intention of devoting himself to the cove
and not coming home till the evening, and that his uncle and aunt did
not think there was any danger, especially as his constant henchman,
Davie Blake, was going with him, and all the fisher-boys of the place
were endowed with a certain instinct for their own tides. The only
accident Jane Mohun had ever known was with a stranger.
Anna had no choice but to subside, and the boys started as soon as the
morning’s tide would have gone down sufficiently, carrying baskets for
their treasures containing their luncheon, and apparently expecting
to find the forest growing upright under the mud, like a wood full of
bushes.
The cove for which they were bound was on the further side of the chain
of rocks, nearly two miles from Rockquay, and one of the roads ran along
the top of the red cliffs that shut it in, with no opening except where
the stream emerged, and even that a very scanty bank of shingle.
In spite of all assurances, Anna could not be easy about her darling,
and when afternoon came, and the horses were brought to the door, she
coaxed Gerald into riding along the cliffs in the Anscombe direction,
where there was a good road, from whence they could turn down a steep
hill into the village, and thence go up a wild moor beyond, or else
continue along the coast for a considerable distance.
As they went out she could see nothing of the boys, only rocks rising
through an expanse of mud, and the sea breaking beyond. She would have
preferred continuing the cliff road, but Gerald had a turn for the moor,
and carried her off through the village of Anscombe, up and up, till
they had had a lively canter on the moor, and looked far out at sea.
When they turned back and had reached the cliff road, what had been
a sheet of mud before had been almost entirely covered with sparkling
waves, and there was white foam beating against some of the rocks.
“I hope Adrian is gone home,” sighed Anna.
“Long ago, depend on it,” returned Gerald carelessly; but the next
moment his tone changed. “By Jove!” he exclaimed, and pointed with his
whip to a rock, or island, at the end of the range of rocks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account