The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1887-11-26 00:00:00

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)
NOBLER THAN REVENGE.

BY THN
Author of "The Heiress of .Atherstonis Grange."

CHAPTER xLvir.
FICKLE FOHTIINF..
Now the fair goddess Fortune
Falls deeply in love with thee.
—SHAKESPEARE.
IN the Bay of Biscay, 0!' thought Cuthbert Ingram
to himself, as the Christabel tossed, and tumbled, and
creaked and groaned, under the stress of weather and
the turbulent wind, that seemed as if it had risen on
purpose to worry and keep back the anxious pas-
senger. There seems a spell on this part of the ocean.
If anything were to happen now—if I have been
saved from such extreme peril, to meet it again here!
Ah, well, there is a Providence that rules all things, I
suppose; and if it is to be, it will be. Dirty weather,
captain.'
And growing worse,' John Tregellis said, as he came
down into the cabin for a moment, and stood before
his passenger, dripping like a huge water-dog at all
points. 'Wind's blowing right in shore, and there's a
nasty fog rising.'
'Where are we?' _ .

Somewhere off Gijon, as nAar as I can make out:
They had made a call at Santiago, and steered
straight for England; but the wind was dead against
them, and they were coasting the north of Spain.
John Tregellis was a clever sailor, and there was no
fear. But it was tiresome to be delayed, and Cuth-
bert Ingram chafed at the time that was passing, as if
every moment was precious. He worried himself with
all sorts of fancies. What had become of Helen ?
Where was she? He pictured her to himself in a
thousand different ways, and almost began to dread
the meeting he :vas longing for. And still the wind
howled, and the storm gathered, and a hurricane
swept over the bay that sent many a good ship and
luckless boat to the rocks and caves at the bottom of
the sea.

There was no danger to the Christabel. She seemed
to walk the waters as if she bore a charmed life, under
the watchful eye of her captain and his crew. The
hardy Cornishman rather seemed to like the battle
with the wind and waves, and was as cool and
collected as if he were standing on the quay at Fal-
mouth, instead of on the deck of a sorely bestead ship.
It will go down as suddenly as it came,' he roared
to Cuthly?rt Ingram in one of the pauses of the storm.
The Christabel is like my own ship. Give her plenty
of room, and she'll do anything. She's weathered
worse things than this.'

'Where are we?'
• Off France somewhere; Arracbon, I fancy. We
have got amongst the fishing boats. lam afraid there
is mischief going on, and I can do nothing. We have
burned lights and rung bells, but we can do nothing
for the sea. I have seen more than once to-night, a
light disappear.'
Are we as near the land as to get amongst the
fishermen?'
They come many miles out. We are not in sight of
the shore anywhere. But--'
There was a tremendous shouting and commotion
on deck, and he hurried away. They had doubtless
coma into collision with something in the darkness,
and Cuthbert could only keep out of the way, and not
heighten the general confusion by his feeble presence.
Be was wonderfully restored; but he was too weak
yet to do much more than remain in his cabin and
read. He would have been worse than useless on deck
on such a night as this. He listened with a good deal
of interest to what was going on on the deck above
him. The storm seemed to be lulling, and he could
gather that the crew were picking up something,
whether men or. merchandise, he could not at first
make out.

Presently he made out from the babel of tongues
what it was. Someone had been picked up; that was
evident; and they were looking out as well as they
could for others.
'She's dead.'
No, she isn't. I saw her move her eyes.'
l'in afraid she is, poor dear '—this time in Captain
Tregellis's voice. Show a light here.'
'she,' thought Cuthbert to himself. Then there's
been a wreck, and they have saved a woman.'
No, she's not dead, the captain's voice said, after
a brief pause; 'she'll come to. Cut the string of that
cloak, Bill; it's choking her.'
Then John Tregellis came down to the cabin for
brandy, and looked in on his passenger.
I hope, with Heaven's help, we have saved a life,'
he said. There must have been a big wreck some-
where hereabouts. We have picked up a woman, not
a minute too soon. No, you lie still; as Cuthbert would
have risen to offer her his berth. There's plenty of
• room. I'll put her in my bunk, and turn into the
mate's berth myself, when I want to. That won't
be just yet. The storm's over, but it's a dirty night
The woman was brought down and laid in the
Captain's berth, her heavy outer clothing removed
with as much gentleness as her rough nurses knew
how to show, and blankets and wraps rolled round
her, and hot brandy-and•water administered to make
her sleep ; so that it was no wonder, after her peril,
that the captain, presently peeping at her, repotted
that she was asleep as soundly as could be. Indeed,
the knowledge of her safety, and the pleasant warmth
after the dark cold water, to say nothing of the un-
accustomed spirit, all combined to lull her senses into
repose, and make her forget her troubles for a time.
'She's sleeping like a baby,' John Tregellis told
Cuthbert Ingram, when the tempest was mastered
at last, and he could take a few minutes' breathing
time. 'She's a pretty creature, too. Poor thing! I
hope she hasn't lost anyone in the storm. It will be a
very sorry waking for her if she has.'
The night wore on on board the Christabel, and
dawn was breaking over the waste of waters before
Cuthbert Ingram fell into a troubled sleep, from which
he started up suddenly and wide awake to see the sun
streaming in at the porthole and through the open
door of his cabin. What had awakened him? Where
was he? Why was he listening to a voice that he knew,
here, out at sea, on board of the good ship Christabel ?
Someone was speakini—someone whose voice he had
not heard before since he came abrOad ; and he rubbed
his eyes to make sure he really was awake, and listened
again.
You have saved my life! How shall I thank you?'
'There's no need for thanks. I am thankful that
we are here to do It. No ship, did you say?'
'No, not a ship at all; a poor little fishing boat.
The men promised to take me to La Rochelle. Oh,
poor fellows! Poor fellows! What has become of
theta?'
'The sea knows; I am afraid no one else, except
Heaven,' the captain said. And Cuthbert Ingram
sprang up in his berth, feeling as if he were
bewitched. Was be mad or dreaming? One or the
other surely. For the voice that spoke in reply to the
captain was Helen's voice, her very own. He could
not be mistaken in its sweet, pure accents. He waited
for a moment, holding his head between his hands,
and listened intently.
am stiff, thank you, but nothing more. I don't
believe I am any the worse for it.'
'Helen, my darling!'
The words burst %pm his lips in a gasp of thankful-
ness—the very worn that John Tregellis had heard
him utter in his unconsciousness, when the insensibility
that held him when they first picked him up was
giving way.
' Hullo !' he said, coming out of his cabin and
closing the door behind him, just as Cuthbert sprang
forward to get a sight of the quiet form that lay
there. 'What's the matter now?'
Helen!' he gasped out—' in there—the woman you
rescued.
I haven't asked her name yet,' the captain said,
with provoking deliberation. You just lie down
again, Mr. Ingram—you are trembling all over this
minute—and I'll find out for you. You couldn't see
her now if she was a hundred times your Helen; she's
gat tosdress herself:. %Voted eosin the best•we could
with her last night,sbeitahe's :dry,. she says; and I
cal ifitswee for the things Tie to6r off 'Hr—thgylare
dry et:tough: Let hernialie -tier toil& Isn't that
what the ladies say, and, theri seejaex eif she
likes.
!semis for pp, r.ve-er mosnent geefie an
Wiiat is shii like?, Isbyoung mad, fair ?
DkHelen is both, s - •s. ris•-it
is as Jidi,_.oupg.gut pretty. o, that's
not the word,... 'I don't think anyone _would speak of
her facirafrpreety•; -beautiful. --4She,43as soft
brown pie pf,,le Lisfasaiii*'I piNt—and
brown !les, -A • (1-7(.(' p, nT
It is Helen. TtinilThe_. .7,1144 w came she here,
in thallay pf
,pica,drwningt. ;When), was she
going 74 Who,kiis With haw? -
' skier/mg sherwasizi a fishing boat; Iknbvinothing
elso.Dont'tonk! like that,-Mr.--Ittgram:-...erion'erhope.
I know what the disappointment will be if -yolVare
mistiketii hoifi safttland, Well.q 4V4 shall tie ter af3
-
Cuthtektinirineitititiblia-idAt'dei*AnA*;teledite
hisda is:ad -berpatients—He was-sure- -he - could not be
tialsleifi'Obic6PandiseNvaiteld'with such im-
• pittfetufeii-helhad direefkiissilthelse meaning of till then
fifetfieeotioa td-eiemtgascls.4 'The dried nlothiss ;that
the-girt had been handed_ in_ to her, and she
was- ldng her tellette at the little looking-glass
'fridopptieitO'to the berth in which she bad lain.
"Pieitently this captain knocked' at the door; 'and she
flung it open with an eager expression on her face.'
Who spoke to you just now?' she said sharply. _
J-- -6-Some ni my seen, I expect, -miss,' he replied. ,
• "-No-; no sailor. It was .a voice .I know—a yoke!
from the &ad. -Am-I going mad, I wonder, and, 181
his spirit come to summon me to the other world ?'
'Just you sit down: a minute and keep quiet! my,
-dear,' John Tregellis. said, gently making her sit -orL
the little lotker that served fox seat and box both.l
"You have had a great shock, and your nerves are all'
upset—and no wonder. Ili/Isn't talking to any dead'
man. Ils's very much alive to-day, wants to kaow
about you and h3w you-came in the water.'
But -it was his voice—Cuthbert's voice:, said thel
-poor girl, forgetting where she was and who she wast
talking to and clinging to the aallcir's rough handl
-with-A-104, of-pitiful helplessness .on her sweet face;
and he was lost at sea.
,Ah ! I must be going mad.'
It cannot be.' ~ef • • L
Aye, in the Asphodel, wasn't he? Just So; and
the ship was burned, and he was one of the missing.
We picked him up, my dear, and if you know
him '
He didn't finish the sentence, for somehow or other
the door was burst open. and somebody tumbled into