Nearly Lost but Dearly Won | Page 9

Bottles were
plentiful--bottles of ale, of porter, of wines heavy and light. Corks
popped, champagne fizzed, ale sparkled. Mark surrendered the eatables
into other hands, and threw his whole energies into the joint
consumption and distribution of strong drink. He seemed in this matter,
at least, to act upon the rule that "Example is better than precept": if he
pressed others to drink, he led the way by taking copious draughts
himself. The driver, too, was not forgotten; the poor man was getting a
chance of rising a little above his daily plodding as he looked out on the
lovely scenery before him: but he was not to be left to God's teachings;
ale, porter, champagne, he must taste them all. Mark insisted on it; so
the unfortunate man drank and drank, and then threw himself down
among some heath to sleep off, if he could, the fumes of alcohol that
were clouding his brains.
And what of Mrs Franklin and Mary? Both had declined all the
stimulants, and had asked for water.
"Nonsense," cried Mark; "water! I've taken very good care that there
shall be no water drunk to-day; you must take some wine or ale, you
must indeed."
"We will manage without it, if you please," said Mrs Franklin quietly.
Mark pressed the intoxicants upon them even to rudeness, but without
effect. Mr Rothwell was evidently annoyed at his son's pertinacity, and

tried to check him; but all in vain, for Mark had taken so much as just
to make him obstinate and unmanageable. But, finding that he could
not prevail, the young man hurried away in anger, and plied the other
members of the company with redoubled vigour.
So engrossing had been the luncheon that few of the party had noticed a
sudden lull in the atmosphere, and an oppressive calm which had
succeeded to the brisk and cheery breeze. But now, as Mary rose from
her seat on the grass, she said to her mother:
"Oh, mamma, how close it has become! And look there in the distance:
what a threatening bank of clouds! I fear we are going to have a storm."
"I fear so indeed, Mary; we must give our friends warning, and seek out
a shelter."
All had now become conscious of the change. A stagnant heat brooded
over everything; not a breath of wind; huge banks of magnificent
storm- cloud came marching up majestically from the horizon,
throwing out little jets of lightning, with solemn murmurs of thunder.
Drop, drop, drop, tinkled on the gathered leaves, now quicker, now
quicker, and thicker. Under a huge roof of overhanging rock the party
cowered together. At last, down came the storm with a blast like a
hurricane, and deluges of rain. On, on it poured relentlessly, with
blinding lightning and deafening peals of thunder. Hour after hour!
Would it never cease? At last a lull between four and five o'clock, and,
as the tempest rolled murmuring away, the dispirited friends began
their preparations for returning. Six o'clock before all had reached the
inn. Where were the driver and Mark? Another tedious hour before
they appeared, and each manifestly the worse for liquor. Past seven by
the time they had fairly started. And now the clouds began to gather
again. On they went, furiously at first, and then in unsteady jerks, the
omnibus swaying strangely. It was getting dark, and the lowering
clouds made it darker still. Not a word was spoken by the passengers,
but each was secretly dreading the crossing of the stream. At last the
bank was gained--but what a change! The little brook had become a
torrent deep and strong.

"Oh! For goodness' sake, stop! Stop! Let us get out," screamed the
Misses Rothwell.
"In with it! In with it!" roared Mark to the driver; "dash through like a
trump."
"Tchuck, tchuck," was the half-drunken driver's reply, as he lashed his
horses and urged them into the stream.
Down they went: splash! Dash! Plunge! The water foaming against the
wheels like a millstream. Screams burst from all the terrified ladies
except Mary and her mother, who held each other's hand tightly. Mrs
Franklin had taught her daughter presence of mind both by example
and precept. But now the water rushed into the vehicle itself as the
frightened horses struggled for the opposite bank. Mark's voice was
now heard in curses, as he snatched the whip from the driver and
scourged the poor bewildered horses. Another splash: the driver was
gone: the poor animals pulled nobly. Crash! Jerk! Bang! A trace had
snapped: another jerk, a fearful dashing and struggling, the omnibus
was drawn half out of the water, and lay partly over on its side: then all
was still except the wails and the shrieks of the ladies. Happily a lamp
had been