The Lighthouse | Page 5

Robert Michael Ballantyne
way,--slowly, as if she had no other object in view than a stroll, and sadly, as if her mind were more engaged with the thoughts within than with the magnificent prospect of land and sea without.
The girl was
"Fair, fair, with golden hair,"
and apparently about twenty years of age. She sought out a quiet nook among the rocks at the top of the cliffs, near to a circular chasm, with the name of which (at that time) we are not acquainted, but which was destined ere long to acquire a new name and celebrity from an incident which shall be related in another part of this story.
Curiously enough, just about the same hour, a young man was seen to wend his way to the same cliffs, and, from no reason whatever with which we happened to be acquainted, sought out the same nook! We say "he was seen", advisedly, for the maid with the golden hair saw him. Any ordinary observer would have said that she had scarcely raised her eyes from the ground since sitting down on a piece of flower-studded turf near the edge of the cliff, and that she certainly had not turned her head in the direction of the town. Yet she saw him,--however absurd the statement may appear, we affirm it confidently,--and knew that he was coming. Other eyes there were that also saw the youth--eyes that would have caused him some degree of annoyance had he known they were upon him--eyes that he would have rejoiced to tinge with the colours black and blue! There were thirteen pair of them, belonging to twelve men and a lieutenant of the navy.
In those days the barbarous custom of impressment into the Royal Navy was in full operation. England was at war with France. Men were wanted to fight our battles, and when there was any difficulty in getting men, press-gangs were sent out to force them into the service. The youth whom we now introduce to the reader was a sailor, a strapping, handsome one, too; not, indeed, remarkable for height, being only a little above the average--five feet, ten inches, or thereabouts--but noted for great depth of chest, breadth of shoulder, and development of muscle; conspicuous also for the quantity of close, clustering, light-brown curls round his head, and for the laughing glance of his dark blue eyes. Not a hero of romance, by any means. No, he was very matter of fact, and rather given to meditation than to mischief.
The officer in charge of the press-gang had set his heart on this youth (so had another individual, of whom more anon!) but the youth, whose name was Ruby Brand, happened to have an old mother who was at that time in very bad health, and she had also set her heart, poor body, on the youth, and entreated him to stay at home just for one half-year. Ruby willingly consented, and from that time forward led the life of a dog in consequence of the press-gang.
Now, as we have said, he had been seen leaving the town by the lieutenant, who summoned his men and went after him--cautiously, however, in order to take him by surprise, for Ruby, besides being strong and active as a lion, was slippery as an eel.
Going straight as an arrow to the spot where she of the golden hair was seated, the youth presented himself suddenly to her, sat down beside her, and exclaiming "Minnie", put his arm round her waist.
"Oh, Ruby, don't," said Minnie, blushing.
Now, reader, the "don't" and the blush had no reference to the arm round the waist, but to the relative position of their noses, mouths, and chins, a position which would have been highly improper and altogether unjustifiable but for the fact that Ruby was Minnie's accepted lover.
"Don't, darling, why not?" said Ruby in surprise.
"You're so rough," said Minnie, turning her head away.
"True, dear, I forgot to shave this morning----"
"I don't mean that," interrupted the girl quickly, "I mean rude and--and--is that a sea-gull?"
"No, sweetest of your sex, it's a butterfly; but it's all the same, as my metaphysical Uncle Ogilvy would undertake to prove to you, thus, a butterfly is white and a gull is white,--therefore, a gull is a butterfly."
"Don't talk nonsense, Ruby."
"No more I will, darling, if you will listen to me while I talk sense."
"What is it?" said the girl, looking earnestly and somewhat anxiously into her lover's face, for she knew at once by his expression that he had some unpleasant communication to make. "You're not going away?"
"Well, no--not exactly; you know I promised to stay with mother; but the fact is that I'm so pestered and hunted down by that rascally press-gang, that I don't know what to do. They're sure to nab me at last, too, and then
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