The Story of the White-Rock Cove. UnknownЧитать онлайн книгу.
won't wonder that I like her better than all my other things."
I led the way at once by a footpath from the lodge across the sloping green meadow, then through a little tangled copse, and finally a short rocky descent to what was at Braycombe always styled the Cove. Not but that there were many coves on our beautiful indented coast, but this one was the most accessible on our grounds. The boat-house and the bathing-box were both here; and here, too, as being within easy reach, I had from earliest years climbed and scrambled and explored, until every stone was almost as familiar as the letters of my alphabet; and I could tell at what state of the tide certain rocks would be uncovered, and knew at a glance whether it would be safe to cross from one part to another on stepping-stones, or whether, to reach a given spot, we must go round by the side of the hill. How I loved, and do love, every foot of the ground, every stone, every rock, every silvery ripple of that the most charming of all possible play-grounds!
Thither, then, I led the way, Aleck following me closely, and George more slowly behind.
"There now," I cried, drawing up breathlessly as we gained our destination, "see, that's my boat-house." It was an exact miniature of the real boat-house, and Aleck stood transfixed with admiration looking at it; for of all things calculated for the amusement of children, nothing, I think, succeeds so well as real miniatures—imitations in proportion—of things which belong to the grown-up world. But the true kernel of the nut—the jewel of the case—was the elegant little model yacht, which I presently drew forth from her moorings within.
"Now that's the 'Fair Alice,'" I continued; "isn't she lovely?"
"Awfully jolly," Aleck replied, after gazing for a moment in speechless admiration. "I never saw anything half so nice before! Oh, if only we were small enough to get into it! Just look how beautifully the deck is made—I can see all the little timbers; and the mast, it's nearly as high as I am; and those little pulleys—oh, how perfect they are!"
"You must see her with all her sails set, a-scudding before the breeze, Master Gordon," said George, overtaking us. "I reckon there's not a craft of her size that would beat her for speed."
"Can you do the sails?" my cousin asked me, regardless of nautical phraseology.
"Master Willie! he knows as much as a sailor born about reefing and unreefing the sails," said George, answering for me.
"Then please do let us sail her at once. I do long to see her on the water," begged Aleck.
And accordingly we two sat down, overlooked by George, who, from a delicate desire to show off my capacity to manage the sails alone, abstained from offering any help; and, drawing the boat up between us on the beach, set the sails, and then proceeded to launch her upon the clear deep water of the Cove.
"This way now," I said to my cousin, when we saw that the breeze was filling the sails, and the "Fair Alice" was making her way out towards the mouth of the Cove. "Come and see my harbour bar;" and springing quickly from rock to rock, and running where there was sand, I guided my cousin to the entrance of the Cove, which was very narrow in proportion to the width and extent of the inlet. On each side of it there was a low stake strongly fastened into the rock, and from stake to stake a rope was stretched: it was long enough to lie along the bottom of the ground, and so offer no impediment to the boats; but when I was sailing my vessel in the Cove, and the tide was in, it was always stretched more tightly, so as to prevent the possibility of my little ship escaping from me into the wide sea.
"See," I said, "I have only to slip this ring over the stake, and then I can feel quite sure the 'Fair Alice' is safe. She can't get past my harbour bar."
In the meantime the little yacht had kept her course nearly to the entrance of the Cove, but a sudden shifting of the wind landed her on the opposite side, and I had to make my way all round to get her off again. Aleck remained on his side of the Cove, and we amused ourselves for some time in contriving to get the little boat to sail backwards and forwards, tacking gradually down to the boat-house.
My cousin was so absorbed in the enjoyment of sailing the "Fair Alice," that he was less eager about getting into our own boat for a sail than at first. But by-and-by, when we were dancing over the waves outside the Cove, he became quite wild with delight, and enjoyed himself, I verily believe, as much as is possible for a free, happy, eager boy; and that is saying a great deal. Of course I caught the infection from him, finding a fresh delight in my ordinary amusements through having a companion to share them; and, truly, a merrier boat's crew than we made on that whole holiday morning could not have been found.
SAILING THE "FAIR ALICE."
Aleck's love for the sea was an absorbing passion; and it quite amused me to hear all the questions he kept putting to old George—as, for instance, how old he was when he went to sea; how long before he went up the mast; how they reefed the top-sails in his vessel, and which of the ship's company did it in a gale; together with many other inquiries, showing a degree of technical knowledge that perfectly overwhelmed me, and which, he explained to us, was extracted from "The Cadet's Manual," and a big book on "The Art of Navigation" which they had at home.
I almost wished my cousin did not know quite so much; it made me feel as though the ten months were a longer and more important period than I had admitted to myself. But it was a relief, when the oars were called into action on our way in, to find that he could not row, whereas I had handled an oar almost as soon as I gave up a rattle; and, as I showed off my best feathering, I felt we were equal again.
"How is it you can't row, sir, when you know so much about it?" asked Groves.
"Why, there are only streams and the river at my home in Scotland," explained Aleck. "We're up amongst the hills, you know. I have often fished, but I've scarcely ever been in a boat before, except when we've been travelling; and then it was going out to the steamer, and I mightn't do anything but sit still. It was famous, though, in the steamer," continued Aleck, kindling with the recollection of his journey. "I went down, and saw how the engine worked; and helped the man at the wheel; and learned about the compass—at least, I knew the points before, but it was different seeing how to steer by it. Only I liked the stoker the best. I had just gone down again with him to the engine-room, to see the engine stopped, and pulled off my jacket because it was so hot; and then the steam was let off, and made such a noise! Just when there was all the noise of the steam, I heard somebody shouting my name, and calling so loudly to me that I ran up to the deck at once. I had quite forgotten about not having my jacket on, and I believe my face had got blacked—it was, I know, when we got on shore. Everybody laughed at me; only mamma was poorly and frightened—she thought I had tumbled overboard. I suppose I oughtn't to have gone down just then, for that was the place where we were to go on shore," Aleck added, somewhat thoughtfully, remembering how very white was the face to which his own blackened one had been pressed.
By this time we were re-entering the Cove.
"You'll only be just in time for your dinner, young gentlemen," said George, as we drew in towards the landing-place; "I reckon it won't come a minute before you're ready for it."
"You'll teach me to row, will you not, as soon as possible?" said my cousin, as we parted. "I should like to begin at once, please."
"So soon as you like, sir. Master Willie, you mustn't be long in bringing down your cousin."
Thus saying, Groves took his way to the lodge, and Aleck and I clambered quickly up the Zig-zag, reaching home in time to appear, with smooth hair, and rosy cheeks, and keen appetites, at the luncheon-table.
Aleck was in wild spirits, and confided to me that he didn't think he had ever enjoyed himself so much before.
CHAPTER IV.
THE RIDE TO STAVEMOOR
A month after Aleck's arrival at Braycombe, it seemed so perfectly natural to have him with us—he had fitted so completely into the position of companion, play-fellow, school-fellow, brother—that I could scarcely fancy how it felt before he came.
My uncle and aunt had left us after a fortnight's visit, and were now on the Continent. The parting was hard work—harder, I fancy, to them than to him, for boys soon get over trouble, whereas