Christian fiction; Neighborhoods -- Scotland -- Fiction
"Do you know what to do with the crowbar, Joe?" I said, grasping my own
stout oak-stick more firmly.
"Perfectly," answered Joe. "To stick between the stones and hold on. We
must watch our time between the waves."
"You take the command, then, Joe," I returned. "You see better than I
do, and you know the ways of that raging wild beast there better than I
do. I will obey orders--one of which, no doubt, will be, not for wind
or sea to lose hold of Agnes--eh, Joe?"
Joe gave a grim enough laugh in reply, and we started, he carrying his
crowbar in his right hand towards the advancing sea, and I my oak-stick
in my left towards the still water within.
"Quick march!" said Joe, and away we went out on the breakwater.
Now the back of the breakwater was very rugged, for it was formed of
huge stones, with wide gaps between, where the waters had washed out
the cement, and worn their edges. But what impeded our progress secured
our safety.
"Halt!" cried Joe, when we were yet but a few yards beyond the shelter
of the rocks. "There's a topper coming."
We halted at the word of command, as a huge wave, with combing crest,
rushed against the far out-sloping base of the mole, and flung its
heavy top right over the middle of the mass, a score or two of yards in
front of us.
"Now for it!" cried Joe. "Run!"
We did run. In my mind there was just sense enough of danger to add to
the pleasure of the excitement. I did not know how much danger there
was. Over the rough worn stones we sped stumbling.
"Halt!" cried the smith once more, and we did halt; but this time, as
it turned out, in the middle front of the coming danger.
"God be with us!" I exclaimed, when the huge billow showed itself
through the night, rushing towards the mole. The smith stuck his
crowbar between two great stones. To this he held on with one hand, and
threw the other arm round Agnes's waist. I, too, had got my oak firmly
fixed, held on with one hand, and threw the other arm round Agnes. It
took but a moment.
"Now then!" cried Joe. "Here she comes! Hold on, sir. Hold on, Aggy!"
But when I saw the height of the water, as it rushed on us up the
sloping side of the mound, I cried out in my turn, "Down, Joe! Down on
your face, and let it over us easy! Down Agnes!"
They obeyed. We threw ourselves across the breakwater, with our heads
to the coming foe, and I grasped my stick close to the stones with all
the power of a hand that was then strong. Over us burst the mighty
wave, floating us up from the stones where we lay. But we held on, the
wave passed, and we sprung gasping to our feet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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