The Battle and the Breeze | Page 5

and rather pretty girl of the fishing
community. The other was a stout and uncommonly handsome man of
five-and-twenty, apparently belonging to the same class, but there was
more of the regular sailor than the fisherman in his costume and
appearance. In regard to their conversation, it may be well, perhaps, to
let them speak for themselves.
"I tell 'ee wot it is, Nelly Blyth," said the man, in a somewhat stern tone
of voice; "it won't suit me to dilly-dally in this here fashion any longer.
You've kept me hanging off and on until I have lost my chance of
gettin' to be mate of a Noocastle collier; an' here I am now, with nothin'
to do, yawin' about like a Dutchman in a heavy swell, an' feelin'
ashamed of myself."
"Don't be so hasty, Bill," replied the girl, glancing up at her lover's face
with an arch smile; "what would you have?"
"What would I have?" repeated the sailor, in a tone of mingled surprise

and exasperation. "Well, I never--no, I never did see nothin' like you
women for bamboozlin' men. It seems to me you're like ships without
helms. One moment you're beatin' as hard as you can to wind'ard; the
next you fall off all of a sudden and scud away right before the breeze;
or, whew! round you come into the wind's eye, an' lay to as if you'd bin
caught in the heaviest gale that ever blow'd since Admiral Noah cast
anchor on Mount Ararat. Didn't you say, not three weeks gone by, that
you'd be my wife? and now you ask me, as cool as an iceberg, what I
would have! Why, Nelly, I would have our wedding-day fixed, our
cottage looked after, our boat and nets bought; in fact, our home and
business set a-goin'. And why not at once, Nelly? Surely you have not
repented--"
"No, Bill Bowls," said Nelly, blushing, and laying her hand on the arm
of her companion, "I have not repented, and never will repent, of
having accepted the best man that ever came to Fairway; but--"
The girl paused and looked down.
"There you go," cried the sailor: "the old story. I knew you would come
to that `but,' and that you'd stick there. Why don't you go on? If I
thought that you wanted to wait a year or two, I could easily find work
in these times; for Admiral Nelson is glad to get men to follow him to
the wars, an' Tom Riggles and I have been talkin' about goin' off
together."
"Don't speak of that, Bill," said the girl earnestly. "I dread the thought
of you going to the wars; but--but--the truth is, I cannot make up my
mind to quit my mother."
"You don't need to quit her," said Bill; "bring her with you. I'll be glad
to have her at my fireside, for your sake, Nell."
"But she won't leave the old house."
"H'm! well, that difficulty may be got over by my comin' to the old
house, since the old 'ooman won't come to the noo one. I can rent it
from her, and buy up the furniture as it stands; so that there will be no

occasion for her to move out of her chair.--Why, what's the objection to
that plan?" he added, on observing that Nelly shook her head.
"She would never consent to sell the things,--not even to you, Bill; and
she has been so long the head of the house that I don't think she would
like to--to--"
"To play second fiddle," put in the sailor. "Very good, but I won't ask
to play first fiddle. In fact, she may have first, second, and third, and
double bass and trombone, all to herself as far as I am concerned. Come,
Nelly, don't let us have any more `buts'; just name the day, and I'll bear
down on the parson this very afternoon."
Leaving them to continue the discussion of this interesting point, we
will turn into the cottage and visit the old woman who stood so much in
the way of our hero's wishes.
Mrs Blyth was one of those unfortunates who, although not very old,
have been, by ill-health, reduced to the appearance of extreme old age.
Nevertheless, she had been blessed with that Christian spirit of calm,
gentle resignation, which is frequently seen in aged invalids, enabling
them to bear up cheerfully under heavy griefs and sufferings. She was
very little, very thin, very lame, very old-looking (ninety at least, in
appearance), very tremulous, very subdued, and very sweet. Even that
termagant gossip, Mrs Hard-soul, who dwelt alone in a tumble-down
hut near the quay, was heard upon one occasion to speak of her as "dear
old Mrs Blyth."
Beside Mrs Blyth, on a stool,