Author: Cyrus Townsend Brady
Category: Nonfiction
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CHAPTER VI
THE WATER-WITCH
We have a deeper sense of proprietorship in a thing we have earned byhard labor or gained by the exercise of our abilities than in thatwhich has been given to us, has cost us nothing.
As Emily, walking close by Barry's side, giving him such assistanceas was possible, looked with mingled pity and anxiety upon the whiteface of the man hanging limply back over the arms of the sailor,she was conscious that in her soul had arisen a new and curious senseof ownership in humanity,--the most satisfactory, yet disappointing, ofour possessions. A strange and indefinable feeling surged in her breastas she thought hurriedly of the situation. A budding relationship--thedeep relationship of services rendered, in fact--attached herinevitably to this stranger--if he were yet alive.
She flushed at the feeling, as if her privacy had been invaded, as shegazed upon him. Her thoughts ran riot in her bosom, her soul turningtoward him, helpless, unconscious, water dripping from his torn,sodden clothing. Perhaps he was dead or dying. The thought gave her asudden constriction of the heart. That would be untoward fate surely.It could not be.
She had saved him. The weak woman had been strong. Her heart leapedexultingly at that. He was hers by the divine right of service. Thestrange relationship had suddenly become a fact to her. Her arm stillached with the strain of holding him, yet she was glad of the pain. Itwas the inward and spiritual evidence of her ownership in that she hadfound and brought to shore. If he would only live!
As they walked she prayed.
She was not in love with him, of course,--not yet,--and yet she couldscarcely analyze--hardly comprehend--her feelings. Her mind was in awhirl. Faint, exhausted physically, she did not yet see clearly. Buthe was there. She had brought him. This human bit of flotsam washers--but for her he would have gone down forever in the dark waters.If he lived, what things might be? What might come? She admittednothing, even to herself.
It was some distance from the landing-place to the top of the hill, andalthough the man they had rescued, albeit tall, was a slender youngfellow, yet as the sailor toiled up the well-worn path he felt theweight of the inert body growing greater with every ascending step.Perhaps it would not have been so had he not previously exhaustedhimself in the desperate pull to gain the shore; but when at last hereached the porch, he felt that it would have been impossible for himto have carried his burden another pace. Indeed, had it not been forthe assistance Emily had given him, he could not have managed itwithout a stop or two for rest. But he had plunged blindly on,something--an instinct of the future, perhaps--bidding him rid himselfwithout delay of the growing oppression of his incubus. Not Sindbad hadbeen more anxious to throw off his old man of the sea than he to castdown the man.
And Barry and Emily began to play at cross-purposes from that hour.
The man saved so hardly had as yet given no sign of life. When thethree reached the porch, the sailor laid him down at the admiral'sfeet and stood panting, sweat beading on his bronzed brow. The oldman, still wrapped in his cloak, stood on the steps, careless alikeof the rising wind or the rain which had begun to fall.
"Well done!" he cried, extending his hand to them, as the sailordeposited his burden. "I never saw a boat better handled, girl! 'Twasa gallant rescue, Barry!"
"Oh, grandfather!" cried Emily, too anxious to heed approval, evenfrom such a source; "is he dead, do you think?"
"I hope not; but we'll soon see. Call the servants, Emily. Barry, lifthim up again and take him into my room."
"No, mine," exclaimed Emily, as she ran to call assistance. "I won'thave you disturbed, and mine is right off the hall here."
"Very well. Lay him on the floor, Barry. And, Emily, bring me myflask. Bear a hand, all."
Presently the man was stretched out upon a blanketthrown upon the floor of Emily's room]
Presently the man was stretched out upon a blanket thrown upon thefloor of Emily's room, and the admiral knelt down by his side. He feltover him with his practised fingers, murmuring the while:
"No bones broken apparently. I guess he'll be all right. Have you theflask there, daughter? This will bring him around, I trust," he added,as he poured the restoring liquid down the man's throat. "Barry, goyou for Dr. Wilcox as quick as you can. Present my compliments to him,and ask him to come here at once. Shake a leg, man! Emily, loosen theman's collar--your fingers are younger than mine--and give him anotherswallow. He's worth a dozen dead men yet, I'm sure."
As he spoke the admiral rose to his feet and gave place to Emily. Verygently the girl did as the old man bade her, and presently the manextended before her opened his eyes and stared up at her vacantly,wonderingly, for a few moments at first, and then, with a dawninglight of recognition in his eyes, he smiled faintly as he remembered.His first words might have been considered flippant, unworthy of thesituation, but to the girl they seemed not inappropriate.
"The blue-eyed water-witch!" he murmured. "To be saved by you," hecontinued, half jestingly,--it was a brave heart which could findplace for pleasantry then, she thought,--"and then to find you smilingabove me."
At these whispered words what he still lacked in color flickered intoEmily's face, and as he gazed steadily upon her, the flicker became aflame which suffused her cheeks. He had noticed her even in thosedeath-fronting moments on the wreck.
"Are you better now?" she asked him in her confusion.
"Better, miss?" he answered, softly, yet not striving to rise; "I amwell again. I came down to----"
"Silence, lad, silence fore and aft! Belay all until the surgeoncomes, and you shall tell us all about it then," interrupted theadmiral. "He'll be here in a moment now, I think, if Barry have goodluck. Will you have another swallow of whiskey?"
"No, sir, thank you; I've had enough."
At that moment the sailor entered the hall, fairly dragging the fatlittle doctor in his wake.
"I fell foul of him just outside of the yard, your honor," said Barry,as he appeared in the door-way.
"'Fell foul of me!' I should think you did! You fell on me like astorm," cried the doctor, dropping his wet cloak in the passage-wayand bustling into the room. "What is it, admiral? Are you----?"
"I'm all right, doctor."
"It's not Miss Emily?"
"No, sir; I'm all right, too; but----"
"Oho!" said the doctor, his glance at last falling to the man extendedon the floor; "this is the patient, is it? Well, young man, you lookrather damp, I am sure. What's up?"
"Nothing seems to be up, sir," answered the man, smilingly, amusedly."I seem to be down, though."
"I guess you're in pretty good shape, sir," said the doctor,laughingly, "if you can joke about it; and if you are down now, we'llsoon have you up."
As he spoke, the physician knelt and examined his patient carefully.
"How did it happen, Miss Emily?" he asked, as he proceeded with hisinvestigations.
"Why, doctor, we picked him up out of the water."
"We?"
"Yes, sir. Captain Barry and I."
"My sloop was wrecked on the rocks beyond the old ship," said theyoung man; "and when this young lady came along in a boat I jumped,and as I am not quite recovered from a wound I got at Mobile Bay, Isuppose I lost consciousness from the shock. I'm all right now,though."
"I think so, too," said the doctor; "we'll get these wet clothes offyou in a jiffy, and then I'll give you something, and in the morningyou'll hardly know you've been in danger."
"I shall never forget that I was in danger this time, sir," said theyoung man, addressing the doctor, but looking fixedly at the younggirl.
"No, of course not; but why particularly at this time?"
"Because I was saved by----"
"Oh, that's it, is it? Faith, I'd be willing to be half drowned myselfto be saved in that way. Meanwhile, do you withdraw, Miss Emily, andwe'll get him ready for bed. Where is he to lie?"
"Here," said the girl.
"In your room?"
"Certainly."
"
I protest, sir," said the man, sitting up with astonishing access ofvigor.
"Nobody protests when Miss Emily commands anything. Here you'll stay,sir!" said Barry, gruffly, as the girl left the room.
The doctor and the sailor soon tucked him away in bed, the admirallooking on. As they undressed him they noticed a long scar across hisbreast where a shell from Fort Morgan had keeled him over. The doctorexamined it critically.
"That was a bad one," he said, touching the wound deftly with hispudgy yet knowing finger. "That'll be the one you spoke of, I takeit?"
"Yes, sir," answered the young man; "it's been a long time in healing.I feel the effect of it yet sometimes."
"But you'll get over it in time, young man, I'm thinking," said thekindly little country doctor.
"I hope so, sir."
The patient was thin and pale from the effects of the wound, which, ashe said, had been a long time healing. It was evident that he had notyet recovered his strength or his weight, either, or the burden onCaptain Barry would have been heavier than it was.
"Did you say," said the admiral, as they prepared to leave him, "thatyou had been at Mobile Bay?"
"Yes, sir."
"What ship were you on?"
"The _Hartford_, sir."
"Bless me!" exclaimed the old man; "with Dave Farragut?"
"Yes, sir; I had that honor."
"Why, I knew that boy when he was a midshipman. I----"
"Now, admiral, excuse me for giving commands in your presence, but youknow there are times when the doctor rules the ship. This young manmust be left alone, and, after the excitement, I think you had bettergo to bed--excuse me, I mean turn in--yourself," interposed thephysician, peremptorily.
"Hark to the storm!" said the old man, turning to the window, histhoughts diverted for the moment from the accident and his guest--itneeded but little to turn his mind to the ship at any time or underany circumstances. "Mark the flash of the lightning, hear the thunder,doctor! She'll be sore racked to-night!"
He peered anxiously out into the darkness over the Point.
"Come, come, admiral."
"Nay, sir. I must wait for another flash to see whether the old shipstill stands. Ay, there she is! Well, 'twill not be long; and were itnot for Emily, I'd say, thank God! Good-night, lad. A boy withFarragut, and he a boy with me! Well, well! Good-night; sleep well,sir."
Long time the veteran lay awake listening to the wind and waiting forthe crash of the ship. And in the room above, where the servants hadmade a bed for Emily, another kept sleepless watch, though she thoughtbut little of the storm; or, if she did, it was with thankfulness forwhat it had brought her.
How handsome he had looked, even with that death-like pallor upon hisbrown sunburnt cheek, as she had knelt beside him! Had the waves ofthe tempest indeed brought the long-expected, long-dreamed-of lover toher feet? And he was a sailor; he had been with Farragut; he had beenwounded in the service of his country--a hero! And what had he said?"Saved by a blue-eyed water-witch!" How delightful to think on! And hewould never forget the rescue because she had done it! He jested,surely; yet could the words be true?
How different he was from the young men of the village! Even the fewofficers of the different detachments of volunteers which hadsuccessively garrisoned the fort were not as he. How different fromCaptain Barry, too--alas, poor old sailor! Her grandfather, now, mighthave been like him when he was younger.
What a storm it was! How the wind howled around the corners of thehouse! What had he come there for? Strangers rarely visited the quietlittle town. What business or pleasure had brought him to the village?Was the ship braving the storm? If the ship went down, her grandfatherwould go, too, and perhaps Captain Barry. Who would care for her then?What was that young man's name? Pity he had not mentioned it. "Ablue-eyed water-witch!"
She drifted off to sleep.
Down upon the deck of the old ship, heedless of the storm, CaptainBarry paced restlessly up and down. What had he done it for? Whatfool's impulse had made him obey her sharp command? 'Twas his arm thathad held the boat under iron control; 'twas his powerful stroke thathad brought it near enough to enable the man to make the leap with thechance of safety; and he had carried him up the hill. The increasingweight of the incumbrance but typified the growing heaviness of hisheart. The man was one of the admiral's class,--a gentleman, anofficer, a man who had been wounded in the service of his country, ahero. How he had stared at Emily when his senses came back to him! He,Barry, was only a common sailor, a blue-jacket, the admiral'sservitor, Miss Emily's dog, old enough to be her father,--a fool!
He stood up in the darkness and stretched out his arms toheaven,--what voiceless, wordless prayer in his lonely old heart? Thestorm beat full upon him. His mind was filled with foreboding, regret,jealousy, anguish. Why had the man come there? Was it for Emily? Whatshould any man come there for if not for her?
But, stay; he was a sailor. Perhaps he had come for the ship! The warwas over, retrenchment the cry. Poor Barry had heard strange rumors.There was no sleep for him that night.