Page:New Peterson magazine 1859 Vol. XXXV.pdf/121



116

THE

OLD

STONE

Georgiana glanced around, with secret triumph in her eye; but affecting hesitation, said,

“If you don’t think it will be too bot?”

Nonsense,” replied Mr. Talbot, in a blunt, decided way, he often had; and throwing down his line, he continued, ‘‘your parasol will keep off the sun; and it’s cooler on the water than here.”

«Well, if Margaret will come also,” said my cousin, rising gracefully, for sho never forgot the proprieties.

I was not particularly pleased at a second- hand invitation like this, especially as Mr. Tal- bot remarked, quite coolly, “‘Oh! to be sure,” as he jumped from the pier to hoist the sail of the boat; but I knew Georgiana would pout, after we got home, if I did not go, so I con- sented with the best grace I could.

There was o light breeze, which wafted us slowly out into the bay. I bave always been fond of the water, so I soon forgot my momen- tary vexation. Mr. Talbot bad the reputation, not only among the amateurs, but with the fishermen also, of handling o sajl-boat skillfully ; and certainly nothing seemed to be easier for him than to direct our light craft, as he sat, rudder in hand, carelessly chattiug with Geor- giana. Annoyed at the manner of my invita- tion, I held myself aloof, as much as possible, expecially as neither of my companions appeared to notive my reserve; so I sat humming a low tune to avoid overhearing the half whispered conversation back of me, now watching the white, fieecy clouds that hung about the western horizon, and now dipping my fingers into the wave, as the boat glided noiselessly along like a white gull skimming the waters.

We had gone about six miles down the bay, and were approaching the Highlands at its mouth, when I woke from a long reverie to hear Mr. Talbot say to Georgiana that a thun- der-storm was coming up and that we had better return. Glancing to the west, I saw that the fleecy clouds had disappeared, and that a purple black bank of vapor, like a distant mountain range, had taken their place. My cousin was already uneasy.

“There's nothing to be alarmed about, Miss Elliott,” said Mr. Talbot, as he turned the boat homeward. ‘‘We have ample time. It will be an adventure to talk of.”

Our progress was now comparatively slow. Instead of slipping smoothly along before the wind, we had to describe a zig-zag course, tack- ing contmually as it is called, in order to beat baek to the pier. But the motion, to me at least, was more exhilarating than it had been before. Now the boat rushed along, leaning far over to the left, the water shooting past her like fences past a railroad train. Now she seemed to stop in mid-career, obedient to the guidance of Mr. Talbot, and fluttering her sails for an instant, poised like a bird about to wheel, and then darted off at a sharp angle to her former course, dashing into the head-wavea with a thud that sent the spray often back to our faces. The blood danced riotously in my veins. I realized what Byron felt when he spoke of the sea bound- ing beneath him like a steed that knew its rider. I was in no hurry to be ashore.

Not so Georgiana. The constant stooping to avoid the boom, as the sail was shifted, and the changing ber seat each time to get on the higher side of the boat, for she was afraid to romain on the lower, made her, at Inst, exclaim,

‘Why don’t you go back like you came, Mr. Talbot? It’s much more comfortable, I’m sure. You lose a great deal, too, by crossing from side to side of the bay, in this way.”

“Ah! I see you’re no seaman,” replied Mr. Talbot, with a smile. ‘Going down, we had the wind after us, and could carry what sailors call ‘a free sheet.’ But now what little breeze there is, is nearly dead ahead, and our only chance is to work back, as I am doing. It’s very slow,” he added, dubiously, glancing at the threatening clouds to the west, now rapidly rising to the zenith.

rain?” said Georgiana, in alarm.
 * You don’t think we'll be caught out in the

“You're not much afraid of a wetting, are you?” he answered, gayly.

‘*We shall be drowned, J know we shall,’ almost shrieked my cousin, looking from Mr. Talbot to the approaching storm, and she rose quickly.

“Sit down, I beg of you,” said Mr. Talbot, half authoritatively. ‘You might upset this light craft.” And he added, in a soothing tone. ‘Indeed, there isn’t a particle of danger. Is there, Miss Gray?”

This was the fret time, since we embarked, that he had spoken directly to me. The alarm of my cousin had made me, for s second, a little nervous; but this now all passed away; for I saw Mr. Talbot felt perfectly secure, and I knew we could trust in him.

“I feel no fear,” I answered. ‘Georgy isn't used to sailing, or she wouldn't mind it either.”

For some time, nothing more was said. Mr. Talbot was busied in working his way slong, taking advantage of every puff of air, of every current, and had no leisure to talk. My cousin cowered on her seat, her head buried in her