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The Heir of Kilfinnan: A Tale of the Shore and Ocean, a novel by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 23 |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY THREE When, however, Mr Finlayson's proposition was made to the fishwife, she at first refused to agree to it, declaring that her son would recover as rapidly in the hut as he could in the castle; but on the lawyer's assuring her that she was mistaken, she consented to let him be removed if he wished it. "Let me ask him then," said Mr Finlayson. For after Ned Davis had vacated the widow's bed, Captain Denham (for so he must still be called) had been placed on it. In the meantime, knowing that the fresh air would benefit Lady Nora, her cousin had led her to the front of the hut, and made her rest on a bench which was fixed there. Sitting down by her side, she took her hand. "Nora," she said, "this is a strange tale we have heard. I can scarcely believe it. What do you think?" "I know not," answered Nora faintly. "But can it be possible that he (Captain Denham I mean) whom we have known so long, who is so refined, so high-born in appearance and manners, can be the son of this wild-looking and ignorant fishwife? and yet, Sophy, she claims him as her son, and he does not deny it; and you observed that mark upon his arm; when she saw it, all doubt vanished. Oh, Sophy, help me, guide me, advise me. What can I do? I did not know till now, when I thought him lost and then had him thus suddenly restored to life, how deeply I loved him. I tell you this, dear cousin, but I would not utter it to any other human being; but what can he be to me for the future? My heart, I feel, will break, Sophy." "Trials are sent us for our good, Nora," said her cousin. "Once I might have thought as you do, that unless his birth was high and noble, equal to your own, no man was worthy to become your husband; but, Nora," and Lady Sophy heaved a deep sigh, "I have learned to prize a true and noble heart; and if such is his, I cannot tell you that I believe you would be right in discarding him on account of his birth. This is not worldly advice; but I again repeat that I believe, if he is what we have all hitherto supposed him, there is not sufficient cause to refuse him as your husband." Nora threw herself into her cousin's arms. "Oh, thank you, thank you, dear Sophy," she exclaimed. "You are right. It was a fearful struggle; but I should have died had I been compelled to give him up. I feel how cruel, how wrong I should have been. I know he loves me, and what a bitter feeling it would have caused his noble heart." "Then, Nora, let me go in and tell him that we beg he will come to the castle. I am sure, that without your invitation he would not consent to be removed there." "Oh, yes, do, do," exclaimed Lady Nora. "It will be dreadful for him to have to remain here; for his poor mother would certainly not know how to take proper care of him." While this conversation was going on, Mr Finlayson had despatched Shane and Ned Davis, who insisted he was now strong enough for anything, followed by Patrick, with all the ropes and spars they could collect, to go along the beach and assist in the rescue of any of the seamen who might still have escaped drowning, and be even now reaching the shore. He himself, meantime, undertook to ascend the cliff, and send the groom back for a litter on which to carry Captain Denham to the castle. At first, when the proposal was made, he declined leaving his mother's hut, and it was not till her entreaties had been joined to those of Lady Sophy he consented to place himself in their hands. "You would greatly disappoint my cousin Nora if you refuse to comply with her request," whispered Lady Sophy. It is possible that this remark might have settled the question. "But does she know who I am?" he asked in a low trembling voice. "Yes, yes," answered Sophy. "Do you suppose that to a true-hearted girl as she is that would make any real difference? Oh, Captain Denham, ask your own heart. Would you thus be ready to sacrifice any one you loved?" "May Heaven reward her," he murmured. His feelings seemingly overcame him, for he could say no more. A considerable time elapsed before the arrival of the litter. Meantime Shane and Davis, with their young companion, hastened along the shore. Several other persons having seen the wreck had now collected on the beach. A few, fastening ropes round their waists, bravely rushed into the surf to assist in dragging the floating men on shore. Some, however, it was very clear, were more eager to obtain any articles of value that might be washed up than to save human life. Many were thus employed when Shane and Davis appeared. Several persons were seen clinging to the masses of wreck, which, after having been tossed about for a considerable time in the bay, were now being washed ashore. The glitter upon the jackets of two of them showed that they were officers, and several persons, as they drifted near, rushed into the water to assist them, so it seemed. They brought them safely up the beach, but no sooner were they there, than, instead of rendering them further assistance, they began to rifle their pockets, and to take their watches and the rings from their fingers. Davis caught sight of them as they were thus so eagerly employed, as not to observe his approach. He dashed forward, and with a blow of a broken spar which he had seized, he knocked aside two of the wreckers, and so ably did he wield it, that he put the rest to flight before they could secure their booty. The rescued officers were two midshipmen of the ship, and their first inquiry was for their commander. "He is all safe, sirs," exclaimed Davis. "Heaven be praised for it, but he was very nearly gone; however, it will not be long, I hope, before he is well again. It has been sad work; not a third, I fear, of our poor fellows have come on shore." "Not so many, I am afraid," observed one of the midshipmen; "however, now we are safe ourselves, let us try to help others." Several of the better disposed of the people now joined themselves to Shane, and prevented the wreckers from continuing their barbarous proceedings. A raft approached near the beach, and though perhaps none on it would have been saved, had they not had assistance, by the aid of the strong body of men who rushed into the water, all were safely landed before it had the opportunity of turning over upon them. Many dead bodies were cast ashore, and they were gradually collected and placed side by side. There were officers and men, and several poor boys, and a few of the marines. The survivors were undecided what to do when Mr Jamieson, who, hearing of the wreck, had come down to the beach, invited them to the vicarage, and the bodies of the drowned were conveyed by his direction to the church. Before the shipwrecked men had proceeded far towards the vicarage, a messenger overtook them, from Mr Finlayson, with a request that they would all come to the castle, to which their captain was now on his way. Every preparation was made for their reception. The medical man of the neighbourhood was also sent for, that he might attend to the captain and others who might have been injured. Fortunately, the surgeon of the frigate had also escaped, and he was at once able to look to the captain's wound. Lady Nora felt a strange satisfaction at having all those belonging to the frigate thus collected beneath her roof. She had a trial to undergo; it was when at length the Widow O'Neil desired to speak to her. "Oh, Lady Nora," exclaimed the old woman, "I have discovered what I little thought of. My bonnie son loves you, lady. It may be presumption on his part, and it makes me feel more and more that I am not worthy to be his mother, but I am, believe me, his true mother. It seems strange that the son of one like me should thus have gained such a name as he has, but there is one thing I would tell you, lady, I know my days are numbered. You will not have the old fishwife as your mother; if I thought so, I would gladly take myself away where you would never see or hear of me more. I would not stand between you and my son for all the world can give. You will not send him from you, lady?" "Oh, do not speak thus, Mistress O'Neil," exclaimed Nora, rising from her seat and taking the widow's hands in hers. "I do not deny that I love your son, for long I have done so, though only this day have I discovered how deeply I loved him. My delight and satisfaction will be to save you from any further toil and trouble. You have ever proved a loving mother to him, and it shall be our united happiness to care for you, and to shield you from all the troubles and hardships to which you have been so long exposed. We will have a suitable house prepared for you and your brave brother Shane and his son, where you may live in comfort without toiling any more on the treacherous ocean." "You speak like a true and noble girl," exclaimed the widow, "and now there is a secret I have got to tell you. If my son had not been restored to me, it should never have passed my lips, but I have long had in my keeping some papers, preserved in an iron case. It has been hidden under the floor of my hut, for I believe there are those who would deprive me of them if they knew where they are. Alas, I could not read them myself, but he who has gone, the father of my boy, bade me carefully keep them. To-morrow, lady, if that good gentleman who is with you, will come with the steward to assist him, I will place the case in his hands. If you had not confessed to me what you have now done, that my son is dear to you, I believe the contents of that box would have caused you much annoyance and pain, but now I feel it will only make you glad." Lady Nora would thankfully have obtained more information from Mistress O'Neil, but she either would not or could not give it. "In a few days I trust, in God's mercy, my son will have recovered, and then it may be time enough for you to examine the papers in the case," she answered. It was with difficulty that the old woman could be persuaded to occupy a room in the castle. She consented, however, to do so, when Shane promised to return to the hut and take charge of it till the next day. The following morning Mr Finlayson set forth accompanied by Mrs O'Neil, for her cottage. Shane was watching for them. The widow sent him for a spade, and some minutes were employed in digging, before the promised box was discovered, so deeply down in the earth had she hid it. "Ah," she observed, as her brother was working, "it was Father O'Rourke who had an idea of this case, and I could not tell what use he might make of it, if he ever got hold of it, and he who has gone charged me never to let it pass out of my hands." At length an iron case was brought to light, which Mr Finlayson attempted eagerly to open. "I have never seen the inside of it," observed the widow, "and I do not know either how to get at it; but don't look at it here, Mr Finlayson, carry it to the castle, where you may look into it at your leisure." Mistress O'Neil having a few arrangements to make before leaving her hut, promised to follow Mr Finlayson to the castle. The lawyer, on his arrival, after examining the case for some time, not unaccustomed to the various devices employed for such purposes, discovered the spring by which it was opened. The whole evening was employed by him in looking over the documents with which it was filled, but he declined for the present to explain their contents to Lady Nora, assuring her that they were somewhat complicated, and that unless he had examined them thoroughly, he might mislead those whom they chiefly concerned. To no one else, indeed, did he divulge their contents for several days; by that time Captain Denham was once more able to appear in public. Several guests had been invited to the castle, Mr Jamieson and his niece being among them. They were all assembled in the drawing-room, when the lawyer, as the captain entered the apartment, went up to him, and in a significant manner, took him by the hand. "I have to congratulate you, my dear lord, on obtaining a rank of which you are--" "Do you address me?" exclaimed Captain Denham with surprise. "What, my dear sir, do you mean? You do not intend to mock me!" "I mean that you are the lawful Earl of Kilfinnan," answered the lawyer in a positive tone, as if his word had been called in question. "Although the elder members of your family were deprived of the right to assume the title, as long as another branch existed, I have sufficient evidence to prove that in your generation the attainder has been removed. Your father, the husband of the devoted woman whom you have always known as your mother--as she truly is--was, while living in the character of a fisherman, drowned off this coast. He was the grandson of the former Earl." Captain Denham, or rather the new Earl of Kilfinnan, cast a glance, beaming with happiness and satisfaction, towards Lady Nora. "Yes, indeed our kind friend, Mr Finlayson, is not mistaken," she said, taking his hand, "and though you know full well, my dear lord, that had it been otherwise, I had promised to become your wife, yet I rejoice to know that you can feel yourself with regard to rank in every respect my equal." It is not necessary to describe the happy marriage which afterwards took place. The Widow O'Neil enjoyed the comfort and luxuries which had been prepared for her by her affectionate children but for a few months. Her nervous system had received a shock it never recovered, in the exertions she made in rescuing her son, but she had the satisfaction of knowing that she had saved his life, and that he was restored to the position his ancestors had enjoyed. He did not neglect his noble friend, Ned Davis, who continued, as before, his constant attendant, and ultimately, when he gave up the sea and came to live on shore, rose to the rank of his head bailiff. Mr Jamieson and the kind-hearted lawyer both lived to an old age, and soon after her uncle was removed from her, his blind niece was laid to rest in the churchyard by his side. Father O'Rourke went plotting and scheming on to the end of his days, and if he did not die in the odour of sanctity, having partaken of all the rites of his Church, no qualms of conscience that he had not exactly fulfilled the duties of a missionary of the gospel, seem to have disturbed his last hours. FINIS. [THE END] _ |
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