MISS MILLET RECEIVES A SURPRISE, ROSEBUD
A DISAPPOINTMENT, AND OUR HERO ANOTHER BLOW
Miss Millet was one of those cheery,
unselfish, active-minded women who are not easily
thrown off their balance deranged, as the
French say by untoward circumstances.
The arrival of any two friends at
two in the morning would have failed to disturb the
good nature or weaken the hospitality of that amiable
creature. Her joy, therefore, at the sudden,
though untimely, appearance of her brother and friend
was not marred by selfish considerations; and although
she was eager to bear what the captain had to say,
she would not let him begin until he and Jeff had retired
to an attic chamber and put on dry habiliments.
How male attire came to be so handy
in a spinster’s house is easily accounted for
by the fact that her regard for the memory of her departed
father was so great as to have induced her to leave
his hat and stick in the passage in their wonted places
after his death, and to leave undisturbed the chest
of drawers which contained the greater part of his
wardrobe. Nothing short of absolute necessity
would have induced Miss Millet to disturb these sacred
relics; but she knew that death might result from
sitting in drenched clothes, and her well-balanced
mind at once pointed out that here was a case which
demanded a sacrifice. She therefore bowed to
the inevitable, and handed her brother the key of the
chest of drawers.
As the late Mr Millet had been a large
man, the result was that her visitors were admirably
fitted out the only disadvantage being that
the captain had to turn up the legs of the trousers
and the cuffs of the coat.
Meanwhile Miss Millet lighted a gas-stove,
which she had always ready for invalid purposes, and
Rose arranged the table, so that when their visitors
returned to the parlour, they were greeted with the
sight of food and the singing of the tea-kettle.
“I can offer you brandy, brother,”
said the little hostess, “as a medicine!”
“Thankee, Molly not
even as a medicine,” said the captain, with a
benignant look; “tea is better in the circumstances.
I can speak from a vast amount of experience.
But of course I speak only for myself. I don’t
know what Jeff’s principles ”
“My principles,” interrupted
the coastguardsman, “are to leave every man
to judge for himself. My judgment for myself
is, that, as I don’t require strong drink, I’m
much better without it.”
“My principles go much further
than that,” said Miss Millet who was an enthusiastic
total abstainer. “The Bible justifies me
in denying myself the use of wine and all spirituous
liquors for my brother’s sake, so that
I may set him an example, and also have more weight
when I reason with him, and try to get him to adopt
my views.”
“Why, Molly, to hear you talk
like that about giving up drink for your brother’s
sake, one would think that I had bin a tippler all
my life!”
“You know that I refer to my brother man,
brother.”
“Ah, of course of
course; and also your sister-woman, I suppose,”
cried the captain, seizing the loaf and beginning
to cut it into inch-and-a-half slices. “What’s
your opinion, Rosebud, on the drink question?”
Rose, whose cheeks emulated her namesake
flower, replied that, never having tasted wine or
spirits in her life, or thought upon the drink question
at all, she had no opinion to express.
“Long may you continue in that
innocent and humble state of mind, my Rosebud,”
cried the captain, with a laugh which caused him to
choke on his first mouthful of tea. After recovering
himself and wiping his eyes, he said
“Now, Moll, I must tell you
all about the wreck;” on which he launched out
into a graphic description of what the reader already
knows.
You may be sure that he did not underrate
the services and heroism of Jeff, who sat wonderfully
silent during the recital, and only acknowledged references
to himself with a faint smile.
“But, brother,” exclaimed
Miss Millet, with sudden energy when he had finished,
“what will the consequences of this wreck be?”
“The consequences, my dear,
will be that the owners will lose a good many thousand
pounds, for neither ship nor cargo were insured.
An’ it sarves ’em right for the vessel
was not fit to go to sea; an’ they knew it,
but were too graspin’ to go to the expense o’
refittin’. Besides, they’ve bin
what they call so lucky in past years that they thought,
I fancy, there was no fear o’ their luck departin’.”
“But I was not thinking of the
owners, brother; I was thinking of the consequences
to yourself.”
“Why, as to that, Molly, as
I’ve lost my ship, I’m pretty safe to lose
my situation; for, from what I know of the owners,
they are sure to lay all the blame they can upon my
shoulders, so that I won’t find it easy to get
another ship. Worse than all, I had made a little
private adventure of my own, which was very successful,
and the result o’ which I was bringin’
home in gold-dust; and now every nugget o’ that
is at the bottom o’ the sea. So you see,
Molly, it’s loss an’ disaster everywhere nothin’
but a black horizon all round.”
Jeff glanced quickly at Miss Millet.
This seemed to bear somewhat on their recent discussions.
Miss Millet as quickly returned the glance.
“I know what you are thinking,
Jeff,” she said, with an intelligent look.
“Well, auntie,” returned
the youth, “it does seem hard to think that any
good can come out of all this doesn’t
it?”
“Young man,” said the
captain, regarding Jeff with an almost stern look,
“if a savage were taken into a factory and shown
the whirling wheels and bands and rollers working
in all directions, and saw filthy old rags boiled
and mixed up with grass and evil-smelling substances,
and torn to shreds and reduced to pulp in the midst
of dirt and clattering noise and apparent confusion;
and if that savage were to say, `Surely nothin’
good can come out of all this!’ wouldn’t
you knowin’ that great rolls of fair
and spotless paper were to come out of it pronounce
that savage a fool, or, at least, a presumptuous fellow?”
“True, captain; I accept the
rebuke,” said Jeff, with a short laugh and a
swift glance at Rose, who, however, was gazing demurely
at her tea-cup, as if lost in the contemplation of
its pattern. Possibly she was thinking of the
absurdity of taking tea at all at such an hour!
“Well, then, Jeff,” continued
the captain, “don’t you go and judge unfinished
work. Perfect men and women are, in this world,
only in process of manufacture. When you see
them finished, you’ll be better able to judge
of the process.”
Jeff did not quite agree with his
friend; for, gazing at Rose, he could not help feeling
that at least one woman had, to his mind, been almost
perfectly finished even here! However, he said
nothing.
At this point the conversation was
turned by Miss Millet suddenly recalling to mind her
brother’s generous friend in China.
“You have no idea, Dick, how
much good I have been able to do with that money.
Of course it could not pay for the swimming-bath,
or the church, or but here, I have a note of it all.”
She pulled a soiled red note-book
from her pocket and was about to refer to it, when
she was arrested by the grave, sad expression that
had overspread her brother’s countenance.
“Ah, Molly,” he said,
“dear Clara Nibsworth was dying when I last saw
her, and I fear her father won’t survive her
long. You remember, I told you the poor girl
was delicate and her father old, and the excitement
and exertion of that night of the fire was too much
for both of them. When I arrived this time in
China, I took a run up to their place to see them,
and found Clara almost at the point of death.
I had little time to spare, and meant to have returned
the next day; but the poor broken-down father entreated
me so earnestly to remain that I at last agreed to
spend three days wi’ them. Durin’
that time I read the Bible a good deal to the poor
girl, and found that she had got her feet firm on
the Rock of Ages. She was very grateful, poor
thing, and I never saw one so unselfish. She
had little thought about herself, although dyin’
and in great sufferin’. Her chief anxiety
was about her old father, and what he would do when
she was gone.
“It was impossible for me to
stay to the end, for no one could guess how long the
poor thing would hold out. I did my best to comfort
the father, and then I left, bringing away a kind
message to you, my poor Rosebud. She seems to
have loved you dearly, and said you were very kind
to her at school.”
Rose had covered her face with her
hands, and with difficulty restrained her tears.
“But you said the doctors had
some hope, father; didn’t you?”
she asked.
“No, darling, the doctors had
none no more had I. It was her poor father
who hoped against hope. Death was written on
her sweet face, and it could not be far off.
I doubt not she is now with the Lord. When I
was leaving, she gave me a small packet for you; but
that, with everything else in the North Star,
has gone to the bottom. But we must be goin’
now,” continued the captain, rising. “I
see Jeff is gettin’ wearied an’
no wonder. Besides, it won’t do to keep
you two up here talkin’ till daylight.”
Jeff protested that he was not weary that
in such company it was impossible for him to tire!
but Rose was too much distressed by her father’s
narrative to observe the compliment.
Still, in spite of his protest, there
was something in our hero’s manner and look
which belied his words; and when he returned to the
coastguard station that day, and was about to lie
down for much-needed repose, his friend and mate,
David Bowers, was surprised to see him turn deadly
pale, stagger, and fall on his bed in a state of insensibility.
“Hallo! Jeff, what’s
wrong?” exclaimed Bowers, starting up, seizing
his friend’s arm, and giving him a shake, for
he was much puzzled. To see a man knocked into
a state of insensibility was nothing new or unfamiliar
to Bowers, but to see a powerful young fellow like
Jeff go off in a fainting fit like a woman was quite
out of his experience.
Jeff, however, remained deaf to his
mate’s hallo! and when at last a doctor was
fetched, it was found that he had been seriously injured;
insomuch that the medical man stood amazed when he
heard how he had walked several miles and sat up for
several hours after his exertions and accident at
the wreck. That medical man, you see, happened
to be an old bachelor, and probably did not know what
love can accomplish!
“I very much fear,” he
said to Captain Millet, after inspecting his patient,
“that the poor fellow has received some bad internal
injuries. The mast, or whatever it was, must
have struck him a tremendous blow, for his side is
severely bruised, and two of his ribs are broken.”
“Pretty tough ribs to break,
too,” remarked the captain, with a look of profound
distress.
“You are right,” returned
the doctor; “remarkably tough, but not quite
fitted to withstand such a powerful battering-ram as
the mainmast of a six-hundred-ton barque.”
“Now, doctor, what’s to
be done with him? You see, the poor young fellow
is not only my friend, but he has saved my life, so
I feel bound to look well after him; and this isn’t
quite the sort o’ place to be ill in,”
he added, looking round the somewhat bare apartment,
whose walls were adorned with carbines and cutlasses.
“The wisest thing for him to
do is to go into hospital, where he will receive the
best of medical treatment and careful nursing.”
“Wouldn’t the nursing
of an old lady that loves him like a mother, and a
comfortable cottage, do as well?”
“No doubt it would,” said
the doctor, with a smile, “if he also had proper
medical attendance ”
“Just so. Well, that’s
all settled, then,” interrupted the captain.
“I’ll have him removed at once, and you’ll
attend him, doctor who better? that
is, if you can spare the time.”
The doctor was quite ready to spare
the time, and the captain bustled off to tell his
sister what was in store for her, and to order Rosebud
to pack up and return to school without delay, so as
to make room for the patient.
Great was his astonishment that his
Rosebud burst into tears on receiving the news.
“My Bud, my darling, don’t
cry,” he said, tenderly drawing the fair head
to his rugged bosom. “I know it must be
a great disappointment to have a week cut off your
holidays, but I’ll go down to Folkestone with
you, an’ take a lodging there, an you an’
I will have a jolly time of it together till
I get another ship ”
“Oh! father, it’s not
that!” exclaimed poor Rose almost indignantly;
“it’s it’s ”
Not being able to explain exactly
what it was that ailed her, she took refuge in another
flood of tears.
“Oh!” she thought to herself,
“if I might only stay and nurse him!” but
she blushed at the very thought, for she was well aware
that she knew no more about scientific nursing than
a tortoiseshell cat! Three months of the most
tender and careful nursing by Miss Millet failed, however,
to set Jeffrey Benson on his legs. He was very
patient and courageous. Hope was strong, and
he listened with approval and gratitude to his nurse’s
teachings.
There came a day, however, which tried him.
“You think me not much better, doctor?”
he asked, somewhat anxiously.
“Not much,” returned the
doctor, in a low, tender tone; “and I fear that
you must make up your mind never again to be quite
the same man you were.”
“Never again?” exclaimed the youth, in
startled surprise.
The doctor said nothing, but his look was “never
again.”