"If God spares us to see her," said Lady Estelle, "what will mamma think of this terrible _fiasco_ of ours?"
While Estelle loved me, I felt that I did not care very much for the dowager's views of the matter, especially at that precise moment. When on _terra firma_ there would be sufficient time to consider them.
"And you are mine, darling?" said I, tenderly.
"I am yours, Harry, and yours only."
"Never shall I weary of hearing this admission; but the rumour of an engagement to Lord Pottersleigh?'
"Absurd! It has grown out of his dangling after me and mamma's wish, as I won't have my cousin Naseby."
"And you do not hold yourself engaged--"
"Save to you, Harry, and you alone."
And as her head again sank upon my shoulder, her pride and my doubts fled together; but now a half-stifled shriek escaped her, as the frail boat was nearly overturned by a larger wave than usual, which struck it on the counter. We were drenched and chilled, so ours was, indeed, love-making under difficulties; and the time, even with her reclining in my arms, passed slowly. How many a prayer and invocation, all too deep for utterance, rose to my lips for her! The hours drew on. Would day never dawn? With all the sweet but now terrible companionship of love--for it was love combined with gloomy danger--this was our utmost craving.
The new moon, as she rose pale and sharp, like a silver sickle, from the Irish Sea, when the fog began to disperse, tipped for a little time with light the wave-tops as they rose or sank around us; but clouds soon enveloped her again; and when the tide turned, the sea ran inward, and broke wildly on the tremendous headlands of the coast. That our boat was not swamped seemed miraculous; but it was very buoyant, being entirely lined with cork, and had air-tight compartments under the seats. A gray streak at the far horizon had spread across a gap of pale green, announcing that the short August night was past, and rapidly it broadened and brightened into day, while crimson and gold began to tip the wave-tops with a fiery hue, the whole ocean seeming to be mottled, as it were; and I could see the coast-line, as we were not quite a mile from it. In the distance were plainly visible the little town of Abergele, and those hills where Castell Cawr and the Cefn Ogo are, tinged with pink, as they rose above the white vapour that rolled along the shore.
The more distant mountain ranges seemed blue and purple against a sky where clouds of pearly-pink were floating. Estelle was exhausted now. Her pallor added to my misery. So many hours of pitiless exposure had proved too much for her strength, and with her eyes closed she lay helpless in my arms, while wave after wave was now impelling us shoreward, and, most happily it would seem, towards a point where the rocks opened and the water shoaled. One enormous breaker, white-crested and overarching, came rolling upon us. A gasp, a mutual cry to heaven, half-stifled by the bitter spray, and then the mighty volume of it engulfed us and our boat. We had a momentary sense of darkness and blindness, a sound as of booming thunder mingled with the clangour of bells in our ears, and something of the feeling of being swept by an express train through a tunnel filled with water, for we were fairly under the latter; but I clung to the boat with one hand and arm, while the other went round Estelle with a death-like embrace, that prevented her from being swept or torn from me.
For some moments I knew not whether we were on the land or in the sea; but, though stunned by the shock, I acted mechanically. Then I remember becoming conscious of rising through the pale-green water, of inhaling a long breath, a gasping respiration, and of seeing the sunshine on the waves. Another shock came, and we were flung on the flat or sloping beach, to be there left by the receding sea. Instead of in that place, had we been dashed against the impending rocks elsewhere, all had then been over with us. I still felt that my right arm was clasped around Estelle; but she was motionless, breathless, and still; and though a terror that she was dead oppressed me, a torpor that I could not resist spread over all my faculties, and I sank into a state of perfect unconsciousness.
CHAPTER XVI.--THE SECRET ENGAGEMENT.
In making a circuit of his farm on the morning after the storm, Farmer Rhuddlan, while traversing a field that was bounded by a strip of the sea shore, on which the ebbing surf still rolled heavily, was very much scared to find lying there, and to all appearance but recently cast up from the ocean, among starfish, weed, and wreck, an officer in full dress, and a lady (in what had been an elegant demi-toilette of blue silk and fine lace), fair and most delicately white, but drenched, sodden, and to all appearance, as he thought, "dearanwyl--drowned"--as she was quite motionless, with her beautiful dark hair all dishevelled and matted among the sand.
He knew me--in fact, he had known me since boyhood, having caught me many a time in his orchard at Craig Eryri--and thought he recognized the lady. Moreover, he had heard of the search overnight, and lost no time in spurring his fat little cob in quest of succour. Some wondering rustics promptly came from a neighbouring barnyard, and by the time they arrived, Estelle and I had recovered consciousness, and struggled into a sitting position on some stones close by, whence we were beginning to look about us.
A benumbed sensation and total lack of power in my right arm warned me that an accident had occurred, and I endeavoured to conceal the circumstance from Estelle, but in vain; for when murmuring some thanks to God for our preservation, she suddenly lifted her face from my breast, and exclaimed, "You cannot move this arm! You have been hurt, darling! Tell me about it--speak!"
"I think it is broken, Estelle," said I, with a smile; for while I felt something almost of pleasure in the conviction that I had undergone this in saving her, thereby giving me a greater title to her interest and sympathy, I could not forget my short leave from Winchester, the war at hand, the regiment already abroad, and the active duties that were expected of me.
"Broken?" she repeated, in a faint voice.
"My sword-arm--on the eve of marching for foreign service. Awkward, isn't it?"
"Awkward! O Harry, it is horrible! And all this has occurred through me and my childish folly!"
"One arm is at your service, dearest, still," said I, while placing it round her, and assisting her to rise, as the kind old farmer returned with his people, joyful to find that we were living, after all, and that by assisting us he might in some degree repay Sir Madoc Lloyd a portion of that debt of gratitude which he owed to him.
After despatching a mounted messenger to Craigaderyn with tidings of our safety, he had us at once conveyed to his farm-house at Craig Eryri, where dry clothing was given us, and a doctor summoned to attend me.
"You knew that we were missing--lost?" said I.
"Too well, sir," replied the farmer, as he produced a brandy-bottle from an ancient oak cupboard. "With all my lads I assisted in the search," he continued in Welsh, as he could scarcely speak a word of English. "A gentleman came here over night with a groom, both mounted, to spread the news of you and a lady having been lost somewhere below the Bôd Mynach."
"A gentleman mounted--Mr. Caradoc, perhaps?"
"Caradoc is one of ourselves," said the farmer, his keen eyes twinkling; "this one was a Sassenach--he Sir Madoc gave that lovely ring to, with a diamond as big as a horse-bean, for winning a race at Chester."
"O, Mr. Guilfoyle."
"Yes, sir, that is his name, I believe," replied Rhuddlan; and despite the gnawing agony of my arm I laughed outright, for the quondam German _attaché_ would seem to have actually found time to relate something new about his brilliant to the simple old farmer, and while the fate of Lady Estelle was yet a mystery. As for _mine_, I shrewdly suspected he cared little about that.
Attired by the farmer's wife in the best clothing with which she could provide her, Lady Estelle, pale, wan, and exhausted, was seated near a fire to restore warmth to her chilled frame, while I retired with the medical man, who found my unlucky arm broken above the elbow; fortunately, the fracture was simple, and in no way a compound one. The bones were speedily set, splinted, and bandaged; and clad in a suit provided for me by Farmer Rhuddlan--to wit, a pair of corduroy knee-breeches, a deeply-flapped double-breasted waistcoat, which, from its pattern, seemed to have been cut from a chintz bedcover, so gorgeous were the roses and tulips it displayed, a large loose coat of coarse gray Welsh frieze, with horn buttons larger than crown pieces, each garment "a world too wide"--I presented a figure so absurd and novel that Estelle, in spite of all the misery and danger we had undergone, laughed merrily as she held out to me in welcome a hand of marvellous form and whiteness, the hand that was to be mine in the time to come; and I seated myself by her side, while the farmer and his wife bustled about, preparing for the certain arrival of Sir Madoc and others from the Court.