She had a near neighbour, Captain Ma.s.sey White, once Governor so called of Virginia, though there had been few men to govern, and those very ungovernable. He was now advanced in life and broken in health. Him she consulted: he spoke cautiously. If the new adventurers acted wisely they might succeed. The country was of exceeding richness, and the natives, though savage, might be won over. He could not advise a wife against seeking her husband, though many dangers must be encountered.

To him the subject brought sad recollection. His only daughter and her husband, Ananias Dane, with their infant, a little girl, had been slaughtered with many others by the Indians, their only other child, their son Oliver, happily escaping, having been left with his grandame in England when they went to the colony. Oliver Dane, a boy of spirit and intelligence some years younger than Gilbert, was a frequent visitor at the house of Mistress Audley and a great favourite of hers. She pitied him also, for his grandfather could but ill manage him or afford him the amus.e.m.e.nts suited to his age. He, like many boys of those days, was longing to go to sea--to visit strange countries, and to engage in the adventures of which he often heard from the mariners he met with in Dartmouth. The result of her conversation with Captain White strengthened the resolution of Mistress Audley to proceed to Virginia.

When young Dane heard of it, he was mad to go also. He begged Vaughan, who had a great liking for the lad, to take him. He had no need to ask Gilbert, who declared that they would not leave him behind.

Mistress Audley and Lettice were pleased at the thoughts of having him with them.

Strange to say, the old man was willing to part with him. He must ere long go into the world to seek his fortune, and he could not be placed under better superintendence than that of Vaughan Audley, for whom he had a high esteem, and who would afford him instruction and watch over his interests. It was thus settled, to the great delight of Oliver Dane, after much more had been said than need be repeated, that he should accompany Mistress Audley and her family to Virginia.

Such of their goods as they considered likely to be of use, were packed up in fitting packages for stowage on board ship, and such other arrangements for the disposal of their property as were deemed necessary were made with the help of a trustworthy lawyer at Dartmouth. Seeing that the task was new to all of them, it was only just accomplished when Roger Layton arrived from London, accompanied by two men, Ben Tarbox and Nicholas Flowers by name, who had belonged to the _Sally Rose_, in which Richard Batten had escaped from Virginia. They were both willing to return to the country, and gave so circ.u.mstantial an account of the part they had visited, and were so certain that they could find their way to it again, that Roger had no doubt about the matter. Vaughan, who examined them much as a lawyer would a witness, was well satisfied on that score, but not so in other respects with one of the men, Nicholas Flowers, whom he set down in his mind from the first as an arrant rogue.

Of Ben Tarbox Vaughan formed a better opinion, that he was an honest fellow, with a fair amount of wits.

Roger brought also a letter from Sir George Summers, to whom he had been introduced in London, and who had known and esteemed Captain Audley, offering to give a pa.s.sage to Mistress Audley and her family on board the _Sea Venture_, which ship was about to sail from the Thames, and to come round to Plymouth, where she was to be joined by seven others, so the letter stated, though their names were not mentioned. Sir George was most kind and pressing; for the regard he bore her husband, he a.s.sured Mistress Audley that she should be put to no expense, and as the ship was large and well-found, she might hope to have a prosperous voyage, with fewer discomforts than are the lot generally of those who tempt the dangers of the sea.

"For Sir George's offer we should indeed be thankful," observed Mistress Audley, when she came to the end of the letter; "it seems like the guiding of Providence, and we are in duty bound not to refuse it."

To this Roger could raise no objection, though he confessed that he was disappointed at not having Mistress Audley and her daughter as pa.s.sengers on board the _Rainbow_. They would, however, sail in company, and in calm weather he might hope to pay them a visit, and at all events they would meet at the end of their voyage. Roger found a letter waiting him from his father, stating that the _Rainbow_ was nearly ready for sea, and advising that Mistress Audley and her family should come round by water from Dartmouth, as the easiest means of transporting their goods. Roger was glad of this opportunity of remaining longer in the company of Mistress Lettice, and of offering that a.s.sistance which his experience enabled him to give. He at once hastened to Dartmouth, where he engaged a pinnace with eight rowers, the master of which undertook, the sea being calm, to carry them to Plymouth between sunrise and sunset.

There were many tears shed by those on whom Mistress Audley and Lettice had bestowed kindness, as they set out from the home they were leaving, probably for ever, mounted on pillions; the pack-horses with their goods following in a long line. Mistress Audley rode behind Vaughan, and Lettice sat on the horse with her younger brother, beside whom rode Roger Layton, while Oliver Dane on his grandfather's nag--seldom now bestrode by the old man--trotted up now to one party, now to the other, but found Vaughan more ready to talk than was Roger, who had ears only for what Mistress Lettice might please to say. Thus they proceeded till they reached Dartmouth, close to which lay the pinnace Roger had hired.

The goods were placed on board that evening, that they might sail without hindrance at dawn on the following morning.

The calm harbour lay in deepest shade, although the summits of the rocks on the western side were already tinged with the rays of the rising sun, as the pinnace, propelled by eight stout rowers, glided out towards the blue sea, rippled over by a gentle breeze from the eastward. The pinnace coasted along the rocky sh.o.r.e till the long, low point of the Start was rounded, when, altering her course, she steered for Plymouth Sound, keeping well inside that fearful rock, the Eddystone, on which many a bark has left her shattered ribs. Roger talked much to Lettice as he sat by her side. He told her of the voyages he had made, of his last ship, when their brave pilot, that renowned navigator, John Davis, with many of his followers, was treacherously slain by the crew of a Chinese ship they had captured,--Roger himself, with a few fighting desperately, having alone regained their boat as the Chinaman, bursting into flame, blew up, all on board perishing. Lettice gasped for breath as she listened to the tale; then Roger changed the subject and told her of the wonderful islands of the East, with their spice-groves and fragrant flowers; of the curious tea-plant; of the rich dresses of the natives; of the beautiful carved work and ornaments of all sorts which he had brought home.

"I have had them placed in my father's house, and they will please you to look at, Mistress Lettice," he observed; "for it may be some days before the fleet sails, and as my father could not bring himself to part with his house, it will afford you a home while you remain at Plymouth."

Gilbert and Oliver Dane were interested listeners to Roger's tales, though the descriptions of battles fought and hair-breadth escapes produced a very different effect in them; while she trembled and turned pale, they only longed to have been with Roger, and looked forward to the opportunity some day of imitating him.

Both wind and tide had favoured the voyagers, and before sunset the pinnace lay at anchor directly in front of Captain Layton's house. The captain had seen them coming, and with Cicely beside him was on the sh.o.r.e to welcome them. With becoming gallantry he pressed Mistress Audley's hand to his lips, while he bestowed a kiss on Lettice's fair brow, telling her how glad he was to greet her father's daughter.

Cicely then took her hand, and led her towards the house, while the captain a.s.sisted Mistress Audley up the steep ascent.

The captain having well calculated the time they would arrive, a handsome repast was already laid in the hall, to which the superior officers of the _Rainbow_, and some of those of gentle birth intending to go pa.s.sengers by her, were invited. Three of the other vessels destined to form the fleet had arrived, but the admiral's ship, the _Sea Venture_, had not yet come round from the Thames. The time was spent by the young people with much satisfaction to themselves, and so well pleased was Mistress Audley with Cicely that when Vaughan told her that he wished to make her his wife, she did not object to his pledging his troth, though she warned him that the present was not a time to take upon himself the cares of a wife and family, and that all his thoughts must be employed in the sacred duty in which he was engaged.

At length a tall ship was seen sailing up the harbour with gay flags flying from the mastheads. The other vessels as she approached saluted her with their guns; the captain, who was on the watch, p.r.o.nounced her to be the _Sea Venture_, the ship of the good admiral, Sir George Summers, commanded by Captain Newport, with Sir Thomas Gates, the new Governor of Virginia, on board. Soon after she dropped anchor the admiral's barge was seen leaving the ship, and Captain Layton went down to beg that he would remain at his house till the fleet was ready to sail. Sir George, whose shipmate he had formerly been, was well pleased to accept his offer; Mistress Audley had thus an early opportunity of thanking the admiral for his generous offer.

"The thanks are due from me, Mistress Audley, that you condescend to take pa.s.sage with your family on board my ship," he answered, with proper gallantry.

Mistress Audley told Sir George of Captain Layton's desire that she should sail on board his ship. "I will not act the hypocrite, and say that I am sorry to deprive him of the pleasure," answered Sir George, "and having gained your promise to sail on board my ship, I intend to keep you to it."

Sir George was accompanied by several cabin boys, one of whom he brought on sh.o.r.e, and introduced as the son of his old friend, that brave sea-captain and good knight, Sir Edward Fenton, lately deceased. Ned Fenton, who was now going for his first voyage, and Gilbert soon became fast friends, and were well pleased to find that they were to continue together. The remainder of the pa.s.sengers of the fleet now arrived, most of whom were gentlemen of good family, though of broken fortunes--a cla.s.s ill fitted for the work before them; while the remainder were artisans far more likely to succeed than the former in a new colony.

At length the whole of the fleet to which the _Rainbow_ was joined gathered in the Sound, and a brave appearance they presented as seen from the windows of the captain's house, their flags flying and their sails hanging in the brails ready to sheet home as soon as the admiral should give the signal to weigh anchor. The wind, however, continued blowing from the westward, and eager as they were to depart, the admiral knew that it would be useless to proceed to sea when no progress could be made towards their destination.

Gilbert and Oliver spent most of their time on board the _Sea Venture_, to which, through the kindness of Sir George Summers, they had been appointed as officers, that they might receive wages from the company; but Vaughan, who had no fancy for a sea-life, found ample occupation on sh.o.r.e in attending on Mistress Cicely, while she had no objection to be so attended. She consenting to his proposal of marriage, he had spoken to her father. "I would not desire a more worthy son-in-law," answered the captain; "but she and you are young, and can afford to wait till we have founded our new settlement, and have houses to dwell in, and lands we can call our own to cultivate. You may deem me unkind; but I were more unkind to grant your request, judging as I do what is best for you both. A sea voyage, even though you are in different ships, will not cool your love, and if, as I am sure will be the case, some months hence you are of the same mind, your mother and, as I hope, your father also agreeing thereto, I will no longer prohibit your marriage."

Thus Vaughan and Cicely, as many other young people have had to do, had to wait patiently, looking forward with hope to the future.

CHAPTER THREE.

At length a gun was fired from the admiral's ship,--the signal for the fleet to weigh anchor. It was at once repeated by a whole salvo from Captain. Layton's battery, discharged according to the captain's directions by Barnaby, who had been left as guardian of the house and property, the owner deeming it possible that he might some day return to his own home. The wind had veered round to the north-east, and blew a fresh breeze, which it was hoped would speedily waft them across the ocean. The _Sea Venture_ took the lead, the _Rainbow_ following close astern, and the other vessels in their different order of sailing. Thus the fleet glided on. The blue Lizard, growing dimmer and dimmer; sank beneath the ocean; the Land's End was lost to sight, and the fleet, guided by the wondrous compa.s.s, sped onward, chasing the sun in its course. For several days the wind continued fair, the ocean calm, and all on board looked forward to a speedy termination of their voyage.

Audley watched with interest the _Rainbow_ as she kept her course, sometimes drawing close enough to enable him to see Mistress Cicely on her deck. It is possible that her young mate might have done his best, by pressing on sail, to keep her there, in order that he himself might have the satisfaction of seeing Mistress Lettice, with her mother and other ladies seated on the high p.o.o.p of the admiral's ship, under an awning spread to shelter them; for the wind being light and aft, the sun beat down with no slight force, and few would willingly have remained long exposed to its burning rays. The sea, just crisped over with wavelets, glittered brightly, and ever and anon huge fish rose to the surface and gambolled round the ships, wondering what strange monsters had come to invade their watery domain. Gilbert, Oliver, and Fenton were in the mean time busying themselves about their duties. Gilbert had undertaken to instruct his younger companions in such nautical knowledge as he possessed: Ned was an apt pupil, and he hoped to do no discredit to the name of his honoured father.

"I had expected on coming to sea to meet the huge waves towering as high as the mastheads, and strong winds, and thunder and lightning; but the life we lead in this calm weather is so pleasant and easy that I should soon grow weary of it," observed Fenton.

"Wait a bit," answered Gilbert; "my experience is not very great, but I can tell you that the ocean is not always in its present humour, and that we may have another account to give before we reach the sh.o.r.es of Virginia."

Still the fine weather continued; and at length so completely did the wind fall that the ships lay rolling their sides slowly to and fro, their tall masts reflected in the mirror-like ocean, it being necessary even for the boats to be lowered to keep them apart. The opportunity was taken by many to visit each other's ships. Vaughan went with his brother on board the _Rainbow_, and Mistress Cicely welcomed him in a way which made him wish that he might continue the voyage with her; but he remembered that his mother and sister were on board the _Sea Venture_, and that duty required him to be with them, that, should any mishap occur, he might be at his post to protect them as far as he had the power. Roger Layton received a similar welcome from Lettice; although he had not spoken to her, she was perfectly well acquainted with the state of his heart, and knowing that he was equally well acquainted with hers, she remained satisfied that G.o.d would order all for the best. Mistress Audley was well pleased with the young sailor; she had discerned his good qualities, and the wealth he would inherit from his father was sufficient for the position in life she desired for her daughter. There is an old saying that "the course of true love never did run smooth;" in this instance it seemed, however, that the proverb was not to prove a correct one.

As darkness was coming on, the admiral ordered the boats to return to their respective ships, and the lights in the lanterns on the stern of the _Sea Venture_ were kindled for the guidance of the fleet at night.

Towards morning there was a change in the weather. Dark clouds were chasing each other rapidly across the sky; the sea, of a leaden hue, tossed and tumbled with foaming crests; the seamen were busy aloft furling sails, and the ships, which had hitherto kept close together, now, for safety's sake, separated widely. The wind whistled in the shrouds; the waves dashed against the lofty sides of the _Sea Venture_, whose fortunes we must now follow. Still the stout ship kept her course, under reduced canvas.

"I told you, Ned, that it was not always calm and sunshine," observed Gilbert, while he and his friends clung to the weather-bulwarks as the ship plunged into the heavy seas. "I wonder how the other ships are faring? Let us climb into the main-rigging and see."

Fenton, Oliver, and he did as proposed, and holding on to the shrouds they gazed over the storm-tossed ocean. Every instant the wind was increasing in strength, and the waves in height, amid which the other ships were seen tossing and tumbling, thrown, as it were from sea to sea, with but a small amount of canvas to steady them, and even then it seemed as much as they could bear.

"I wonder which is the _Rainbow_," continued Gilbert; "Vaughan and Lettice will be watching her with no small anxiety. See, there they stand on the p.o.o.p-deck, straining their eyes towards the ship they suppose to be her: truly, I should grieve were any misfortune to happen to those on board."

"So should I," said Fenton; "but it is a hard matter to make out which is the _Rainbow_, though I thought that I could distinguish her from the rest."

Every moment the gale increased, and the seas rose higher and higher; six strong men were at the helm, but even then with difficulty could the ship be steered. The sails were closely furled, with the exception of a small foretopsail, and away the stout ship flew--now dipping into one sea, the foaming crest of which came rushing over the deck, now rising to the summit of another. Still Lettice, with her brother's arm round her waist to secure her, stood on the p.o.o.p; her face was pale, though not with alarm for herself or those with her so much as for the _Rainbow_, for she naturally thought "if such is the buffeting our large ship is receiving, what must be the condition of so small a bark as the _Rainbow_," towards which ship her and her brother's eyes were cast, as they supposed. Those who could have distinguished one ship from the other were busy in attending to their respective duties.

Gilbert and his messmates still kept their post; they, too, were watching, as they believed, the _Rainbow_, which was endeavouring, as it seemed, to set more canvas, to bear up for the Admiral. Now she appeared sinking into the deep trough of the sea, now tossed up helplessly to the summit of another, again to descend, when her hull could scarcely be distinguished amid the ma.s.ses of foam which danced madly round her. As she lay deep down in the watery valley a huge sea rolled over her deck, and she did not rise again on the other side. A cry escaped from the three lads: "She's gone! she's gone!"--echoed by many on deck.

Lettice, with straining eyes, gazed at the spot where the ship had been.

Vaughan, his heart torn with anguish, endeavoured to support her, but could ill restrain his own feelings, believing as he did that Cicely had perished. The admiral had seen what had occurred, and with gentle force conveyed her to the cabin, where she could receive from her mother that comfort she needed so much; while the governor with friendly sympathy, taking Vaughan's arm, endeavoured to calm his agitation and prevent him from madly leaping into the sea.

"Oh, steer the ship to their a.s.sistance! We must go and help them,"

shouted Vaughan, not knowing what he said.

"The attempt were vain," said the captain; "long ere we could reach the spot where yonder ship has gone down, all who were on board her will have perished;" and he made a sign to the governor, and others standing round to carry the young man below. They succeeded, Vaughan moving like one in a dream. The admiral a.s.sured Lettice and her brother that it was possible the ship they had seen go down was not the _Rainbow_, for though small compared to their own ship, she was a stout, well-built bark, and might contend successfully with even a worse storm than was then blowing; adding that one of the vessels seen in the distance bore a great resemblance to her; indeed, by every means in his power, he endeavoured to restore their spirits. He was compelled, however, soon to leave them, to attend to the navigation of the ship. He and Captain Newport held an earnest consultation, for the fierce storm, instead of giving signs of abating, was hourly gaining strength.

The wind, which first came from the north-east, now shifted suddenly round, greatly increasing the height of the seas, and fearfully straining the labouring vessel.

Night coming on, the other ships were lost to sight; no one could tell in what direction they had gone. Those who were inclined to look at matters in the darkest light believed that they had foundered. Not for a moment did the brave admiral leave the deck. Now, the rain pouring down, all was pitchy darkness; and then suddenly a vivid flash of lightning showed the whole deck, and the pallid faces of the crew--for even the stoutest-hearted looked pale; and well they might, for the raging seas threatened every instant to engulf them. Few men surrounded by such horrors can face death unappalled.

Thus that dreadful night pa.s.sed on. But matters had not come to the worst; the admiral sat on the deck, conning the ship, endeavouring with all the nautical skill he possessed, in which no man surpa.s.sed him, to keep her before the wind. The carpenter, who had been below to sound the well, rushed up, a flash of lightning exhibiting his countenance pale as death. "We've sprung a fearful leak, sir," he exclaimed; "it's my belief that the oak.u.m is washed out of the seams, for already the water is rising above the ballast."

"Then hasten with your crew, search out where the worst leaks exist, and strive to stop them," said the admiral, calmly; "man the pumps, and let others be told off with buckets to bale out the water. We must not give way to despair; often have men been in a worse condition on board ship, and by persevering efforts have preserved their lives."

The determined way in which the admiral spoke somewhat restored the confidence of the crew; some with lanterns in their hands crept into the wings on either side of the ship, close to the ribs, searching every corner, and listening attentively to discover the place where the water entered. Others, like galley-slaves, stripped to the waist, went to the pumps, and worked away with that desperate energy which men exhibit when they believe that their lives depend on the efforts they are making.

Several of the leaks were found, but still the water came rushing in on all sides. The carpenter again reported that it was still rising, and, from the quant.i.ties of bread brought up, that the chief leak must be in the bread-room. Here he once more made search, but failed to discover the spot at which the water entered. The officers of all ranks exerting themselves to the utmost, the men followed their example, while the pa.s.sengers offered to labour with them. Vaughan Audley found the task he, with others, had undertaken, a great relief to his grief and anxiety; with Gilbert and young Fenton, he was working now away at the pumps; now he was standing one of the line formed to pa.s.s the buckets up from below. Even the women desired to take their share in the work.

All on board were divided into three parties--while one party laboured at the pumps, or pa.s.sed up the buckets for an hour at a time, the others, exhausted by their exertions, lay down to rest. An officer stood ready to give the signal as soon as the time arrived for the working party to be relieved.

Daylight at length returned, but showed no improvement in the weather; the wind blew as furiously as ever. Not for a moment had the brave admiral left his post. Just before noon a prodigious sea came rolling towards the ship, and, breaking over her bow, washed fore and aft, filling her from the hatches up to the spar-deck. For some time it appeared impossible that she could shake herself clear of the ma.s.s of water, which, as it rushed aft, dashed the men from the helm, forcing the tiller out of their hands, and tossed them helplessly from side to side. It seemed a wonder that none were carried overboard or received mortal injury. The admiral, too, was thrown from his seat and, as were several officers round him, cast with his face on the deck. Still, while endeavouring to recover himself, he shouted to others of the crew, who flew to the helm and prevented the ship from broaching to. Though she was running at the time under bare poles at the rate of scarcely less than eight knots an hour, for a moment the violence of the shock stopped her way, and many thinking that she had struck on a rock, shouted out, "We are lost! we are lost!"

"Not yet, my brave fellows," cried the admiral; "while there is life there is hope! The ship is still swimming: all hands to their stations."

Another voice was heard clear and clarion-toned amid the howling of the storm, as the voices of G.o.d's ministers should sound at all times:--"Turn to Him who calmed the tempest on the sea of Galilee. Why are ye affrighted, oh ye of little faith? Trust to Him all powerful to save, not your frail bodies only from the perils of the deep, but your immortal souls from just condemnation. Turn ye, turn ye! why will ye die? He calls to you; He beseeches you. Trust to Him! trust to Him!"

He who spoke was the good chaplain, Master Hunt, who had been ceaselessly supporting the sorely-tried ones below with words of comfort from the book of life, and who had now come on deck to perform his duty to the fainting crew.