Adventures of a Despatch Rider | Page 4

with a gentle
"Good-by, I hope you will soon be better," he left the cottage. He
walked fast with his head bent, as if to hide his face; but we must run
after him, and have a peep at it. He is smiling, and--can it be?--he is
blushing! Captain Crawford, who never turned pale before the Russians
at Alma or Inkermann, is now blushing scarlet before his own
approving conscience and the gratitude of a sick girl. The smile and
blush were not gone when he reached home, and Ellen saw both and
smiled too, but wisely said nothing. The ice on Edward's heart was
broken; a few "kind words" had flowed out and melted it. He went to
sleep that night, and dreamed that angels were saying "kind words" to
him; Ellen went to sleep, too, and dreamed of her brother reading the
Bible to the dying on a battle-field; and the sick girl lay awake all night,
thinking how good it was of Miss Crawford to think of her, and how
good of the Captain to tell her so.
The Sixpence had done a good day's work; had a shilling been in its
place, it would probably have failed in accomplishing it; and Captain
Crawford, thinking money the best way to the heart of the poor, would
never have tasted the joy of soothing sad hearts by kindness. Alas! little
Sixpence, that you who have been such a blessing to-day, should
become a curse to-morrow; that you who have gone forth on errands of

mercy to-day, should dwell in scenes of drunkenness and theft
to-morrow!
Early next morning Mrs. Tourtel went to market, and left the Sixpence
at a baker's shop in payment for a white loaf for her daughter. There it
spent the day--a quiet day--broken by few events. It might have seen
the fresh bread taken out of the oven, and packed in the cart which
waited at the door to receive it; and it might have seen many people
bustle in and out of the shop, from the little child to buy a penny loaf,
to the gentleman's housekeeper to pay the week's bill; but it remained
undisturbed till the shutters were taken down on the following morning,
when a man came to buy a small loaf for his breakfast, and received the
Sixpence in change. Appearances were far more against it this time
than they had been before. John Barker had an unshaved beard, a
scowling eye, and a red face; his dress consisted of a blue woollen shirt,
coarse blue trousers grimed in mud, and a low-crowned black hat; on
his shoulder he carried a spade and pickaxe. As he walked along he was
joined by others of an equally unprepossessing appearance, and found
many more already assembled at the scene of their labours--the new
harbour.
The sun was not yet risen, and a mist hung over the sea, through which
the signal-post at Castle Cornet, and the masts of the vessels in the
roads, were the only objects visible; but there was a faint red streak in
the sky, which grew brighter and brighter every moment, till the sunrise
gun fired; and then the mist changed into a golden veil, which floated
insensibly away, leaving every geranium-leaf outside the windows
white with hoar-frost, just to tantalise the townsfolk more distant
islands became just visible, mingling the blue of the sea and the violet
of the sky so mysteriously in their delicate colouring, that they were
scarcely distinguishable from either. And then the carts began to roll
along the quay, and work commenced on board the ships in the harbour,
and the sailors' cry as they hoisted the sails, mingled with the rattling of
chains and the creaking of the cranes outside the stores. At about nine
o'clock up ran the ball at the signal-post, which announced the
approach of the mail-boat, and as she steamed behind the Castle, and
anchored in the roads, there were hasty embraces and shakes of the

hand on the pier, and the passengers were rowed out to embark. A few
minutes, and the tinkling of a bell was heard from the shore;
another--one more; her wheels were turning, she was off for
Southampton, and the passengers from Jersey were landing at the quay.
All this, and much more, might John Barker have seen, and probably he
did see it, but found nothing beautiful or exciting in it. He did not hold
his breath as that cutter approached and ran between the pier-heads, her
sail dipping in the wave which bore her in. He saw it a dozen times that
day, and had seen it a hundred times before, but never cared to see it
again. He worked sullenly on, exchanging few words with his
fellow-labourers, till the twilight compelled