Читать книгу Midshipman Merrill онлайн

16 страница из 50

“I’ll remember you, sir, you may be sure,” was the reply, and five minutes after the surf-skiff cast off and started upon her really perilous voyage.

The sailor watched her departure, as many others did, and shook his head ominously, while Virgene Rich, having returned to her room, stood in the window, and her innocent young face wore an anxious look as she saw the little craft driving swiftly into the heavy seas on her dangerous run.

In half an hour the surf-skiff was out of sight to the watchers, and soon after rounded a point of land where it felt the full force of the winds and waves.

But Mark Merrill showed his claim to the title he had won as the boy pilot of the coast, and though the shadows of night fell upon the waters, seemed to instinctively know his way over the tempestuous sea.

At length a light gleamed from a cliff far ahead, and the young sailor said aloud:

“Bless my dear, good mother! she has set the lamp in the south window, sick as she is, to guide me home, and it shows me that I was a trifle off my course.”