And thus it kept on for about an hour, when the storm seemed to abate, the lightning coming at longer intervals, and the thunder gradually becoming more and more distant, till at last it subsided into a low angry muttering; though the lightning still kept quivering and flashing--making everything in the bedroom appear with the greatest distinctness.

"Well," said Harry at last, "I've had enough storm, and I'm going to bed; so out you go, Mr Fred, into your own room."

Mr Fred was too tired and sleepy to enter into any fun that night, so he sleepily went into his own place; and before the thunder had ceased muttering in the distance, the boys were all soundly asleep, breathing heavily the soft cool air--rendered so fresh and pure by the late storm, and so plainly perceptible in its difference from the heavy oppressive atmosphere of the early evening.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

LOUD SIGHS.--MORE SORROW.

Fred's visit was now drawing fast to a close, and the boys among themselves were comparing notes as to how wonderfully swift the days had glided away.

"Oh, dear; oh, dear," said Harry, with a sigh; "only think, next week we shall be back at school, and learning that beastly old Latin again; a nasty dirty old dead language. It isn't right: if a language is dead, it ought to be buried. They ought to make a cavibus in terribus, and bury the old blunderbuss. Shouldn't I like to have smothered old Valpy!"

"Ah," said Philip; "Latin isn't half so bad as that old Euclid, with all its straight lines, and angles, and bother. Heigho! wouldn't it be nice to be a bird, and not have any lessons to learn! I should like to be an eagle, to circle up and up towards the sun, and--"

"Ho--ho--ho!" laughed Harry, who was not at all a poetical young gentleman; "you wouldn't do for an eagle; if you turned into a bird, like that chap in 'Evenings at Home,' you'd be only an old c.o.c.ksparrow, and cry 'chizzywick, chizzywick,' all day long."

Hereupon Philip thought it was his duty to resent this great insult, and gave chase to Harry, who dodged him about in the field where they were; and the tormentor, being the more nimble of the two, escaped his well-merited punishment.

"Come, I say," said Fred, shouting as loudly as he could, "it's time to start. The car has gone round to the door."

This announcement brought Fred's cousins tearing up to the spot where he stood, and then, going round to the front, they found Mr Inglis with what few things he required, just giving orders to Sam to go and look for the boys.

"Oh! here they are," said Mr Inglis. "Come, lads, jump up; you are just in time. What would you have said if I had gone without you?"

"We weren't afraid of that," said Harry; "were we, boys? I know Papa wouldn't say he'd take us, and then leave us behind."

They were off once more to the sea-side, but this time for the afternoon only. The day was a regular scorcher, and the poor horse began to show symptoms of the heat, in spite of the careful driving of Mr Inglis; and a regular cloud of flies about his head so teased it, keeping regularly on at the same pace as the horse, whether a walk or a trot, that Mr Inglis was at last compelled to stop and let Harry cut a couple of little elm branches, and fix them in the harness, so that, by their constant vibration and shaking, they might keep the tiresome insect pests at a distance. But the travellers soon began to find that they ought to have boughs secured to their own heads, for the flies, disappointed of their feast upon the horse, turned their attention to the party in the dog-cart, and, until they were quite clear of the wooded part of the country, bothered them terribly.

The day was so hot that the whole atmosphere seemed to tremble and quiver, while everything else was motionless. Not a breath of air was stirring to wave the gra.s.s or to ruffle the surface of the great land-drains, whose waters shone like molten silver; while the road was powdered into an almost impalpable dust, which rose in clouds as the horse's hoofs beat and the wheels spun over its arid surface.

At last, however, as they neared the sea-bank, a soft and cooling breeze began to fan the travellers' cheeks; the horse tossed his head and snuffed the air, as though delighted with the grateful sensation it imparted; and at the end of another quarter of an hour the car wheels were sinking deep in the dry sandy road which led up to the inn, where they were going on this occasion to leave the horse, as this afternoon's trip was only for a quiet ramble by the sea to collect a few stranded sea-weeds and sh.e.l.ls.

When they reached the sh.o.r.e, they found the tide coming in, while the sands were as level and smooth on the elevated parts as a table, though, in the lower, beautifully and regularly traced all over with the little ripple-marks left by the sea when the tide is going out upon a calm day.

There was no difficulty about gathering specimens, for the gentle waves landed plenty of beautiful weeds at their feet, while many sh.e.l.ls and prettily-marked pebbles lay about the sands.

"Oh! how hot," said Harry; "shouldn't I like a dip! I say, Papa, mayn't we have a bathe?"

"Oh! yes, Papa, do let us," said Philip; "it would be beautiful. I should like to go in so much."

Fred was as anxious to have a dip as his cousins; and as the tide was coming in, and the water as smooth as possible, Mr Inglis gave his consent, and stopped upon the sands while the boys all jumped into the bathing-machine; and the old horse being fastened to it, they were dragged a short distance into the water, and there left. They soon had the door opened, and then one at a time made their appearance in the sea, where they swam about to their hearts' content; of course, Harry and Philip performing all the swimming, and Fred the splashing. And delightful was that bathe, for the sun shone so warmly that the water felt quite tepid, and there was no disposition to shiver or feel cold, but every little wave that rolled in seemed to be laden with freshness and vigour. The boys enjoyed their dip so much that Mr Inglis had to call them out, or they would have stopped in for an hour. But he had them out when they had been in about twenty minutes; and as soon as they were dressed, the collecting of specimens went on. At the mouth of one little inlet they found a dead puffin--a singular little bird that makes its home on the rocky sh.o.r.es further north, and remarkable for its curious wedge-shaped bill, looking like the point of an old Roman sword, and to all appearance a rather formidable weapon. There were plenty of gulls and kittywakes running about at the edge of the waves, picking up the little insects and small crustaceans that abounded upon the sands.

Fred here made further acquaintance with the little hermit crab, and saw how it protected itself, and chose its habitation from amongst the empty sh.e.l.ls upon the beach; and when it had found one that it considered a good fit, thrust in its little tail, and dwelt there until it grew too confined for it.

Numberless were the objects of interest to be seen all along the coast, and pleasant was the ramble the party enjoyed until it grew towards the hour for returning, when they walked back to the opening in the sand-bank, so as to reach the inn and get the horse and car ready for starting. The tide was now nearly at its height, and a brisk evening breeze had commenced blowing, so that, as the tide rolled in, the breakers began to be of a tolerable size. There were several people, old and young, enjoying an evening bath; and, after ordering the car to be got ready, Mr Inglis and the boys strolled back and watched the waves come tumbling in upon the beach or rush up the opening that led into the great land-drain--an opening that was staked on each side in the shape of a cage-work tunnel, and ran down for some distance into the sea on the one hand, and right under the great sea-bank on the other.

Just as the party were turning to leave the sh.o.r.e, a piercing cry rose from off the water, and then another, and another, evidently proceeding from some one in distress.

A moment's glance served to show Mr Inglis that the cry proceeded from one of the bathers, and, in company with many more people, he ran down to the water's edge, when he could see that a boy was battling with the waves, his head just above water, and crying for help in the most heartrending tones. People were running about wringing their hands, while those who had been bathing were huddling on their clothes, and others, again, had gone to seek for a boat; but it was very plain that, if a.s.sistance were not immediately rendered, the boy would be drowned.

"Is there no one here that can swim?" said Mr Inglis. "A sovereign to the man who fetches the poor fellow in."

But only one person came forward, and that was Harry, who began to strip off his jacket and shoes ready for the plunge.

"Back! you foolish boy; you have not strength," said Mr Inglis; and then, without waiting to make a further appeal for aid, he stripped off his coat, and dashing through the waves was soon swimming towards where the boy was still shrieking loudly, but in a fainter tone, for help; for every now and then the waves washed over his head, which seemed to get lower in the water every moment.

Mr Inglis was a powerful swimmer, and clove swiftly through the water in spite of his clothes, which clung to him and bore him down. In a very short s.p.a.ce he was by the side of the drowning boy, who clutched at him, and would have no doubt put him in great peril but for an effort which he made to get behind. He then grasped the boy by the hair, and turned to swim ash.o.r.e; but to his horror he found that the poor fellow was caught in some way in the piles of the outlet, and, in spite of every effort, Mr Inglis could not set him free: he essayed to dive, but the tide ran so strongly that he was unable to effect his object; he dragged the poor fellow backwards and forwards, and tried to reach beneath the waves at the obstruction, but without success; and, as a last resource, tried to keep the poor boy's head above water until a.s.sistance arrived; but this even he found impossible, for the tide had so risen that it now covered him completely with every wave that washed in. Mr Inglis made one more desperate effort to free the poor fellow, but without success; and then, feeling his power failing, he turned to reach the sh.o.r.e, just as Harry swam up to beg of him to come back, for he was fearful lest his father should be too fatigued to return. And it was time he did return, for it required all his strength to reach the sh.o.r.e, where he arrived just as a boat was launched, and four men put off to try and save the poor boy.

Mr Inglis and Harry hurried into the inn, where they borrowed dry clothes, and when dressed they heard the mournful news that the body had not been recovered, for the men could not even find the place from the fact of the rapid rise of the tide. But Mr Inglis felt now how hopeless was the case, even if the poor lad's remains were found; and heart-sick, he hurried down to the car, and drove rapidly off homewards, the sad incident they had witnessed having deeply impressed them all, and brought strongly to their recollection the misfortune that so nearly fell upon their own home but a short time back.

The journey was soon performed, and in almost perfect silence; for, in addition to the natural fatigue felt by the party, the past adventure hung like a cloud over their spirits till they reached the rose-hung porch just in the dusk of evening.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

GOOD-BYE.

At last the morning dawned that was to be Fred's last at Hollowdell Grange, and sadly and gloomily he had proceeded overnight to pack up his things in the box he had brought down with him, merely leaving out such articles as were required for immediate use. A month had slipped away so swiftly, that it seemed almost impossible that such a s.p.a.ce could have elapsed since that hot, breathless day, when, so new and strange, he had met his cousins upon the platform, after asking Jem Barnes, the porter, to direct him to his uncle's house. So strange, and so rough and countryfied everything had appeared; and so low, dejected, and tired had he felt when he first left the train; how he had wished himself back in town! And now, how different he felt; he was as low-spirited as when he first came down, but it was with the idea of going away. All those upon whom he had at first looked with distant eyes, now seemed so dear to him. There were his uncle and aunt; his cousins; there was Old Sam; Dusty Bob, the maids; d.i.c.k, the dog; and even the raven and parrot: he was mournful at parting with all of them, and would have given anything to have stayed, if only for another day. And now he stood in his little bedroom, looking around it, almost with tears in his eyes, as he slowly dressed himself, and placed the remainder of his things in his box.

He had just finished, and was sitting moodily upon the box-lid, when Harry and Philip entered the room, both looking as dull and miserable as himself.

"Oh! dear," said Harry, "what a thing it is that holidays will go so jolly fast, and work-days so horribly slow! It ain't fair. Don't I wish that they were all to come over again; there's lots of things we have not done yet, and lots of places where we ought to have gone."

"When are you coming down again, Fred?" said Philip.

"I don't know," said Fred; "I don't want to go away. I should like to see Papa and Mamma, but I'd rather they came down here. I shall never never like old bricks-and-mortary London again. It will be so smoky, and noisy, and nasty, and miserable. Oh! I do wish I could stop."

"But you used to say that you could not think how people could live in the country, and would not believe that we could find plenty of fun down here," said Harry.

Fred would not hear this last remark, but sat moodily upon his box till breakfast time; and his cousins stayed with him--Harry all the time cutting viciously at a bit of stick with his keen-edged knife, and strewing the bedroom carpet with chips. The sun shone brighter, the sky looked more blue, and the trees greener than ever; but the boys could not enjoy that glorious morning; there was no elasticity of spirit, no bounding out into the garden; no teasing of poor old Sam; no race round the cedar-field before breakfast, for Fred sat on his box, gloomy and out of heart, Philip sat with his legs stretched out and his hands in his pockets, and Harry sat and carved away at his stick, until he was obliged to get up,--which he did with a sigh,--and go down stairs to get a fresh piece of wood.

Just then the breakfast bell rang, and Mary walked along the pa.s.sage with the hot cake and eggs; but no one ran against her, for the boys tidied slowly into the room, and took their places at the table in the most dejected way imaginable. Fred could not eat; Philip could not eat; Harry could; but he ate viciously, and in a tigerish manner, and smashed in the top of his egg as though it had been the head of the engine-driver who was to take Fred up to London; while as for coffee, he kept asking for cups until Mrs Inglis refused to give him any more, when the wretched boy consoled himself with another wedge of cake.

"Come, boys; come, boys," said Mr Inglis at last; "this will never do; partings must follow meetings, and all holidays must have an end. I am sorry that your cousin must leave you; but I feel glad to see that he leaves us with regret, for that seems to say that he has enjoyed his trip. Is it not so, Fred? You have enjoyed your visit, I hope?"

"Oh! so much, Uncle," said Fred; "only it has been such a short one, and it makes me so cross to think that I didn't want to come."

Mr Inglis smiled, and said, "But you will want to come another time, I hope?"

"Oh! may I? may I come again?" burst out Fred, with eyes sparkling, and half rising from his chair.

"I shall be only too happy to see you again, my boy; but what say Harry and Philip. Have they asked you to come again?"

"We did not ask him," said Philip; "but Fred knows we want him to come again."

"I don't want him to go now," said Harry, with his mouth full of cake.