“I will do my best; but this is now the seventh disappointment we have had. It would have been a heavy blow, of course, to have found the poor little fellow dead. But even that, with the recovery of the other, would have been better than this dark mystery, and, above all, would have freed the living from these maddening suspicions. But as it is, we must try to bear it, and to say, ‘God’s will be done.’ But I am thinking too much about ourselves. Mr. Stew, I am very ungrateful not to think more of your convenience. You must be longing to be at home.”
“At your service, Sir Philip—quite at your service. My time is entirely my own.”
This was simply a bit of brag; and I saw that he was beginning to fidget; for, bold as his worship was on the bench, we knew that he was but a coward at board, where Mrs. Stew ruled with a rod of iron: and now it was long past dinnertime, even in the finest houses.
“One thing more, then, before we go,” answered Sir Philip, rising; “according to the newspaper, and as I hear, one young maiden was really saved from that disastrous shipwreck. I wish we could have gone on to see her; but I must return tomorrow morning, having left many anxious hearts behind. And to cross the sands in the dark, they say, is utterly impossible.”
“Not at all, Sir Philip,” said I, very firmly, for I honestly wished to go through with it; “although the sand is very deep, there is no fear at all, if one knows the track. It is only the cowardice of these people ever since the sandstorm. I would answer to take you in the darkest night, if only I had ever learned to drive,” But Anthony Stew broke in with a smile,
“It would grieve me to sit behind you, Dyo, and I trow that Sir Philip would never behold Appledore again. There is nothing these sailors will not attempt.”
Although I could sit the bow-thwart of a cart very well, with a boy to drive me, and had often advised the hand at the tiller, and sometimes as much as held the whip, all this, to my diffidence, seemed too little to warrant me in navigating a craft that carried two horses.
Sir Philip looked at me, and perhaps he thought that I had not the cut of a coachman. However, all he said was this:
“In spite of your kindness, Mr. Stew, and your offer, my good sir”—this was to me, with much dignity—“I perceive that we must not think of it. And of what use could it be except to add new troubles to old ones? Sir, I have trespassed too much on your kindness; in a minute I will follow you.” Anthony Stew, being thus addressed, was only too glad to skip into the carriage. “Bye, bye, Dyo,” he cried; “mend your ways, if you can, my man. I think you have told fewer lies than usual; knock off one every time of speaking, and in ten years you will speak the truth.”
Of this low rubbish I took no heed any more than anyone would who knows me, especially as I beheld Sir Philip signalling with his purse to me, so that Stew might not be privy to it. Entering into the spirit of this, I had some pleasant memories of gentlemanly actions done by the superior classes towards me, but longer agone than I could have desired. And now being out of the habit of it, I showed some natural reluctance to begin again, unless it were really worth my while. Sir Philip understood my feelings, and I rose in his esteem, so that half-guineas went back to his pocket, and guineas took the place of them.
“Mr. Llewellyn, I know,” he said, “that you have served your country well; and it grieves me to think that on my account you have met with some harsh words today.”
“If your worship only knew how little a thing of that sort moves me when I think of the great injustice. But I suppose it must be expected by a poor man such as I am. Justice Stew is spoiled by having so many rogues to deal with. I always make allowance for him; and of course I know that he likes to play with the lofty character I bear. If I had his house and his rich estate—but it does not matter—after all, what are we?”
“Ah, you may well say that, Llewellyn. Two months ago I could not have believed—but who are we to find fault with the doings of our Maker? All will be right if we trust in Him, although it is devilish hard to do. But that poor maid at that wretched place—what is to become of her?”
“She has me to look after her, your worship, and she shall not starve while I have a penny.”
“Bravely said, Llewellyn! My son is a sailor, and I understand them. I know that I can trust you fully to take charge of a trifle for her.”
“I love the maid,” I answered truly; “I would sooner rob myself than her.”
“Of course you would, after saving her life. I have not time to say much to you, only take this trifle for the benefit of that poor thing.”
From a red leathern bag he took out ten guineas, and hastily plunged them into my hand, not wishing Stew to have knowledge of it. But I was desirous that everybody should have the chance to be witness of it, and so I held my hand quite open. And just at that moment our Bunny snored.
“What! have you children yourself, Llewellyn? I thought that you were an old bachelor.”
“An ancient widower, your worship, with a little grandchild; and how to keep her to the mark, with father none and mother none, quite takes me off my head
