Charlie to the Rescue | Page 5

implies care and trouble; `Knock, and it shall be opened unto you' hints at perseverance, does it not?"
"There's something in that, mother," said Charlie, casting another wistful glance out of the window. "Come, I will go out and `seek'! I see Shank Leather waiting for me. We agreed to go to the shore together, for we both like to watch the waves roaring in on a breezy day like this."
The youth rose and began to encase his bulky frame in a great pilot-cloth coat, each button of which might have done duty as an afternoon tea-saucer.
"I wish you would choose any companion to walk with but young Leather," said the widow, with a sigh. "He's far too like his father to do you any good."
"Mother, would you have me give up an old playmate and school-fellow because he is not perfect?" asked the youth in grave tones as he tied on a sou'-wester.
"Well, no--not exactly, but--"
Not having a good reason ready, the worthy woman only smiled a remonstrance. The stalwart son stooped, kissed her and was soon outside, battling with the storm--for what he styled a breezy day was in reality a wild and stormy one.
Long before the period we have now reached Mrs Brooke had changed her residence to the sea-coast in the small town of Sealford. Her cottage stood in the centre of the village, about half-a-mile from the shore, and close to that of her bosom friend, Mrs Leather, who had migrated along with her, partly to be near her and partly for the sake of her son Shank, who was anxious to retain the companionship of his friend Brooke. Partly, also, to get her tippling husband away from old comrades and scenes, in the faint hope that she might rescue him from the great curse of his life.
When Charlie went out, as we have said, he found that Shank had brought his sister May with him. This troubled our hero a good deal, for he had purposed having a confidential talk with his old comrade upon future plans and prospects, to the accompaniment of the roaring sea, and a third party was destructive of such intention. Besides, poor May, although exceedingly unselfish and sweet and good, was at that transition period of life when girlhood is least attractive--at least to young men: when bones are obtrusive, and angles too conspicuous, and the form generally is too suggestive of flatness and longitude; while shyness marks the manners, and inexperience dwarfs the mind. We would not, however, suggest for a moment that May was ugly. By no means, but she had indeed reached what may be styled a plain period of life--a period in which some girls become silently sheepish, and others tomboyish; May was among the former, and therefore a drag upon conversation. But, after all, it mattered little, for the rapidly increasing gale rendered speech nearly impossible.
"It's too wild a day for you, May," said Brooke, as he shook hands with her; "I wonder you care to be out."
"She doesn't care to be out, but I wanted her to come, and she's a good obliging girl, so she came," said Shank, drawing her arm through his as they pressed forward against the blast in the direction of the shore.
Shank Leather had become a sturdy young fellow by that time, but was much shorter than his friend. There was about him, however, an unmistakable look of dissipation--or, rather, the beginning of it--which accounted for Mrs Brooke's objection to him as a companion for her son.
We have said that the cottage lay about half-a-mile from the shore, which could be reached by a winding lane between high banks. These effectually shut out the view of the sea until one was close to it, though, at certain times, the roar of the waves could be heard even in Sealford itself.
Such a time was the present, for the gale had lashed the sea into wildest fury, and not only did the three friends hear it, as, with bent heads, they forced their way against the wind, but they felt the foam of ocean on their faces as it was carried inland sometimes in lumps and flakes. At last they came to the end of the lane, and the sea, lashed to its wildest condition, lay before them like a sheet of tortured foam.
"Grand! isn't it?" said Brooke, stopping and drawing himself up for a moment, as if with a desire to combat the opposing elements.
If May Leather could not speak, she could at all events gaze, for she had superb brown eyes, and they glittered, just then, like glowing coals, while a wealth of rippling brown hair was blown from its fastenings, and flew straight out behind her.
"Look! look there!" shouted her brother with a wild expression, as he pointed