THE SETTLERS OF LONG ARROW.
A Canadian Romance in Thirty-one Chapters.
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CHAPTER XII.
Keefe Dillon’s feelings were more moved by his parting with Coral than he was willing to let himself own, and to banish his unusual dulness and melancholy, he went to a logging bee given by one of his neighbours, worked hard all day, and danced half the night. He slept longer than usual the next morning, and was only just out of bed when a lad, breathless with haste, rushed into the house, crying out, as soon as he could speak, “Mr. Dillon, there’s a schooner on the reef!” Keefe caught up his cap, and darted out, followed by the eager messenger.
Several men, women, and children were collected on the shore, and fresh stragglers were continually adding to the number. The sun was now bright, and the sky tolerably clear, but the wind was as high as ever, and the waves pouring faster and more furiously on the shore. Just as Keefe reached the beach one great wave threw at his feet a sailor’s woollen cap, and an oar, waifs of the drowned mate and his comrades.
“I guess they took to their boat, and have all gone to the bottom,” said one of the men.
“There’s some one on the wreck still,” said Keefe, examining the schooner with his keen eyes; “don’t you see something white waving? There—I see the figure plain enough now; I guess it’s a woman.”
“God help her,” said a woman near him; “can nothing be done to save her?”
“Something must be done,” said Keefe, decisively; and as he spoke every eye turned on him.
For an instant his steady energetic glance and clear voice communicated to the crowd a portion of his own courage, but it was only for a moment; the wild billows breaking on the shore, the fierce gusts of wind, the memorials of the drowned men at their feet, overcame the impulse of daring and generosity his words had kindled.
“One of you come with me, lads, and we’ll see what the Mother Cary can do; she’s stood many a stiff gale.”
The men shook their heads.
“It can’t be done, Keefe; she’s the best boat on the lake, and you’re the best sailor, but nothing could live in those waves.”
“We’ll try that,” said Keefe, coolly; “if no one will come with me, I’ll go alone.” Every voice was instantly raised to denounce such a resolution as the wildest madness, and when they saw him going off with unmoved determination, some of the women caught hold of him, and the men closed round him, as if resolved to prevent him from such a hopeless undertaking.
“Just wait a bit,” said some one, “the storm can’t last much longer.”
“It will last till the schooner goes to pieces,” said Keefe; “there’s no use in your trying to stop me, for go I will;” and with a sudden exertion of his great strength he shook off the women, broke through the circle, and ran towards the little cove, where his skiff lay.
