Saved at Sea | Page 2

round it. I used to think them
very pretty when I was a boy.
We had not many neighbours. There was only one other house on the
island, and it was built on the other side of the lighthouse tower. The
house belonged to Mr. Millar, who shared the care of the lighthouse
with my grandfather. Just outside the two houses was a court, with a
pump in the middle, from which we got our water. There was a high
wall all round this court, to make a little shelter for us from the stormy
wind.
Beyond this court were two gardens, divided by an iron railing. The
Millars' garden was very untidy and forlorn, and filled with nettles, and
thistles, and groundsel, and all kinds of weeds, for Mr. Millar did not
care for gardening, and Mrs. Millar had six little children, and had no
time to look after it.
But our garden was the admiration of every one who visited the island.
My grandfather and I were at work in it every fine day, and took a pride
in keeping it as neat as possible. Although it was so near the sea, our
garden produced most beautiful vegetables and fruit, and the borders
were filled with flowers, cabbage-roses, and pansies, and wall-flowers,
and many other hardy plants which were not afraid of the sea air.
Outside the garden was a good-sized field--full of small hillocks, over
which the wild rabbits and hares, with which the island abounded, were
continually scampering. In this field were kept a cow and two goats, to
supply the two families with milk and butter. Beyond it was the rocky
shore, and a little pier built out into the sea.
[Illustration: THE LANDING STAGE]

On this pier I used to stand every Monday morning, to watch for the
steamer which called at the island once a week. It was a great event to
us when the steamer came. My grandfather and I, and Mr. and Mrs.
Millar and the children, all came down to the shore to welcome it. This
steamer brought our provisions for the week, from a town some miles
off, and often brought a letter for Mr. Millar, or a newspaper for my
grandfather.
My grandfather did not get many letters, for there were not many
people that he knew. He had lived on that lonely island the greater part
of his life, and had been quite shut out from the world. All his relations
were dead now, except my father, and what had become of him we did
not know. I had never seen him, for he went away some time before I
was born.
My father was a sailor, a fine, tall, strong young fellow, my grandfather
used to say. He had brought my mother to the island, and left her in my
grandfather's care whilst he went on a voyage to Australia. He went
from the island in that same little steamer which called every Monday
morning. My grandfather stood on the end of the pier as the steamer
went out of sight, and my mother waved her handkerchief to him as
long as any smoke was seen on the horizon. Grandfather has often told
me how young and pretty she looked that summer morning. My father
had promised to write soon, but no letter ever came. Mother went down
to the pier every Monday morning for three long years, to see if it had
brought her any word from her sailor husband.
But after a time her step became slower and her face paler, and at last
she was too weak to go down the rocks to the pier, when the steamer
arrived on Monday morning. And soon after this I was left motherless.
From that day, the day on which my mother died, my grandfather
became both father and mother to me. There was nothing he would not
have done for me, and wherever he went and whatever he did, I was
always by his side.
As I grew older, he taught me to read and write, for there was of course
no school which I could attend. I also learnt to help him to trim the

lamps, and to work in the garden. Our life went on very evenly from
day to day, until I was about twelve years old. I used to wish sometimes
that something new would happen to make a little change on the island.
And at last a change came.
CHAPTER II.
THE FLARE AT SEA.
My grandfather and I were sitting at tea one dark November evening.
We had been digging in the garden the whole morning, but in the
afternoon it had become so wet and stormy that we had remained
indoors.
We were sitting quietly at our tea, planning what