A Sailors Lass

A Sailor's Lass, by Emma Leslie

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Title: A Sailor's Lass
Author: Emma Leslie

Release Date: June 10, 2007 [eBook #21797]
Language: English
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A SAILOR'S LASS
by
EMMA LESLIE,
Author of "The Gipsy Queen," "Dearer Than Life," "Gytha's Message,"
Etc.
With Five Illustrations.
Second Edition.

London: S.W. Partridge & Co., 9, Paternoster Row.

[Illustration: "HE PICKED UP THE WHITE BUNDLE, AND
HURRIED AFTER PETERS."]

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
ONE STORMY NIGHT 7
CHAPTER II.
THE FISHERMAN'S HOME 22
CHAPTER III.

TINY'S HOPE 41
CHAPTER IV.
TINY'S TREASURE 57
CHAPTER V.
ON THE SANDS 74
CHAPTER VI.
BAD TIMES 92
CHAPTER VII.
A TEA MEETING 110
CHAPTER VIII.
BRIGHTER DAYS 127
CHAPTER I.
ONE STORMY NIGHT.
"Mother, we're afloat agin." It was a gruff, sleepy voice that spoke, and
the old fisherman turned over and snored on, as though the fact of their
home being afloat was of no consequence to him. His wife, however,
was by no means so easy in her mind, for it was only during the
equinoctial gales and an unusually high tide that their home was lifted
from its moorings; and now it had been swinging and swaying for
hours, and the rusty chains that held it fast to some posts were creaking
and straining as though the next gust of wind would certainly carry
them out to sea or drive them up the river, where they would inevitably
be swamped in a very short time, for their boat-home was leaky at the
bottom--had been a water-logged boat before the fisherman took

possession of it and turned it into a quaint-looking cottage by running
up some wooden walls along the sides, and roofing it in with planks
and tarpaulin. Thus converted into a dwelling-house, the boat had been
secured, by four chains fixed to posts in the ground, on the top of a
mud-bank that formed the boundary of the mouth of the river.
The ocean itself was less than a quarter of a mile from where the old
boat was moored, and so the poor woman might well be excused for
growing more alarmed as the minutes went on and the gale increased,
until the boat fairly rocked, and the children in the adjoining cabin
began crying and screaming in their fright.
"Coomber! Coomber!" she said at last, shaking her husband, and
starting up in bed; for a sound more dreadful than the children's
screams had made itself heard above the din of the wind and waves.
"There's a ship, Coomber, close in shore; I can hear the guns!"
screamed his wife, giving him another vigorous shake.
"Ship! guns!" exclaimed the old fisherman, starting up in bed. The next
minute he was on his feet, and working himself into his clothes. "She
must be on the sand-bar if you heard the guns," he said.
A sudden lurch of the boat almost pitched the old man forward, and the
children's screams redoubled, while Mrs. Coomber hastily scrambled
out of bed and lighted the lantern that hung against the wall.
"What are yer going to do?" asked her husband, in some surprise;
"women ain't no good in such work as this."
"What are you going to do?" asked Mrs. Coomber, almost crying
herself; "the boat will soon be adrift with this wind and tide, and we
shall all be drowned like rats in a hole."
"Nay, nay, old woman, the boat was made taut enough before I brought
you here, and you think she wouldn't have broke away before this if she
was going to do it? Don't be a stupid lubber," he added.

"But the children, Coomber, the children. I ain't afraid for myself," said
the mother, with a sob.
"Well, well, the old boat'll hold the boys for many a day yet," said the
fisherman; "you go in and stop their noise, while I get help for the poor
souls that are surely perishing out there."
"But what can you do for them?" asked his wife; "there ain't a boat
besides ours at Bermuda Point, nor a man to help you manage it besides
Bob."
"No, no; Bob and I couldn't manage the boat in such