The Maid of SkerBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
The Maid of Sker
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Foundlings -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Wales -- Fiction
Hence I came to win the pleasure of their company, that day. Their
nearest church was the little, simple, quiet old church at Ashford. From
my ferry I could see it; and it often made me sigh, because it looked so
tranquil. Sweet green land sloped up towards it, with a trace of crooked
footpaths, and the nicks of elbowed hedges, where the cows came down and
stood. Also from it, looking downward through the valley of the Tawe,
may be seen a spread of beauty, and of soft variety, and of largeness
opening larger with the many winding waters, to the ocean unbeheld, that
the sternest man must sigh, and look again and look again.
A genuine parson now was master of this queer old quiet church; a man
who gave his life entire for the good of other men. In a little hut he
lived, which the clerk's house overrode, just at the turning of the
lane, upon the steep ascent, and where the thunder-showers flooded it.
All the poor folk soon began to dwell upon his noble nature, and to feel
that here was some one fit to talk of Saviours. Miles around they came
to hear him, so that he was forced to stand on a stool in the porch, and
speak to them. For speaking it was, and not preaching; which made all
the difference.
These three gay young sparks leaped lightly into the bow of my
ferry-boat, and bade me pull for my very life, unless I desired to be
flung into the water then and there. A strong spring-tide was running
up, and I was forced to pull the starboard oar with all my might to keep
the course. My passengers were carrying on with every sort of quip and
crank, and jokes, that made the boat to tilt, when suddenly a rush of
water flooded their silk stockings. I thought at first that the bung
was out, and told them not to be frightened; but in another breath I saw
that it was a great deal worse than that. The water was rushing in
through a mighty hole in the planks of the larboard bow; and in three
minutes we must be swamped. "All aft, all aft in a moment!" I cried; "it
is our only chance of reaching shore." The gallants were sobered at once
by fright, and I bundled them into the stern-sheets, sat on the aftmost
thwart myself, and for the lives of us all pulled back towards the bank
we had lately quitted. By casting all the weight thus astern, I raised
the leak up to the water-line, except when we plunged to the lift of the
oars, and the water poured in less rapidly now, with the set of the tide
on our starboard beam. However, with all this, and all my speed, and my
passengers showing great presence of mind, we barely managed to touch
the bank and jump out, when down she foundered.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account