Martha Finley - Mildred Keith

"'What a bear!" exclaimed Rupert in an aside to his sister, and drawing her away as he spoke. "See, we're beginning to move. Let's go over to the other side where we can have a better view."

"I presume that's what she wanted to do," remarked Mildred, glancing back at the meek-eyed woman. "And why shouldn't he have let her?"

"Why, indeed, except that he's a cowardly bully."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's the only kind of man that would speak so to a decent woman."

"How did you learn all you've been telling me, Ru.?" asked Mildred as they stood side by side watching with interest the Queen Charlotte and her consorts slowly clearing the harbor. "Oh, easily enough; young Wells and I got into talk while you and the others were down in the cabin; I asked questions and he answered 'em. Ah, here he comes," he added looking round, "I'll introduce him for he's a nice fellow, I'm sure, and it's a good thing to have a friend at court; in other words to be in favor with the reigning powers; i. e. the captain and his nearest of kin. My sister, Miss Mildred Keith, Mr. Wells."

"Happy to make your acquaintance, Miss," said the young sailor, gallantly, lifting his hat and bowing low. "Hope you'll enjoy your voyage on the Queen Charlotte. Shall be most happy to do all I can to make the trip pleasant to you."

"Thank you kindly."

He began at once by finding comfortable seats for them where they were sheltered from the sun, and had a good view of the Canada and Michigan shores; and being acquainted with the localities, and their history, and possessed of a ready command of language, he added much to the interest of the scene by the information he imparted; sometimes unsolicited, at others in answer to questions.

When they had passed through Detroit river and so far out into Lake St. Clair that little could be seen but water and sky, he offered to show them over the vessel.

They gladly accepted, enjoyed the tour, and when it was over rejoined the rest of their party just as the cabin passengers were summoned to the supper table.

Mildred was seated between Rupert and Edward Wells; opposite them sat Mr. and Mrs. Sims, the bullying Englishman and his meek-eyed wife, and a bachelor gentleman of pleasing countenance and manners, whom Captain Wells addressed as Mr. Carr. Next them were Captain and Mrs. Jones. There were many more passengers of both sexes, several nationalities, and a variety of ages from infants in arms, up to hoary headed grandparents, but with most of them our story has little or nothing to do.

The two captains, the wife of the one and the son of the other, were polite and genial, the fare was excellent, and every one present seemed disposed to contentment and good humor except Mr. Sims, who turned up his nose at the food, snubbed his wife and scowled at his opposite neighbors; perchance reading too plainly in the frank, youthful countenances their disapproval of him.

Mildred so compassionated the long-suffering wife that, in the course of the evening, seeing her sitting by herself and looking sad and lonely, she drew near and opened a conversation.

Mrs. Sims responded readily.

"Do sit down, Miss," she said, making room for Mildred by her side, "I'm so glad to 'ave some one to speak to, for I gets hawful 'omesick at times."

"Ah, that must be a very trying feeling," Mildred said compassionately. "I know nothing of it myself; for I've never been away from home or mother for a week at a time."

"Well, Miss, you're fortunate."

"Have you been long in the country?"

"It's barely six months, Miss, since I left me father's 'ouse in London. We kept an 'otel there; an' that's 'ow I came to know Mr. Sims; he takin' lodgin' with us while up to London about some business 'e 'ad with the lawyers."

"And are your own family all still in England?"

"Yes, Miss; hevery one; I left 'em all – father, mother, brothers and sisters – for 'im," she answered with a tremble in her voice and wiping her eyes furtively.

"What a shame he should treat you as he does!" was the indignant exclamation that rose to Mildred's lips, but she checked herself in time, and changed it for, "Then I think he ought to be very good to you."

"I 'ope we'll be 'appy, Miss, when we're settled down in a 'ome of our own," remarked the little woman with a half stifled patient sigh. "And indeed it's not 'alf so bad as I expected; I've been hastonished, at finding so many white women in America. I thought when I landed in New York I'd be the honly white woman there. I s'posed all the rest would be Injuns or niggers."

"Indeed! how relieved you must have been on discovering your mistake," remarked Mildred demurely, while her eyes twinkled with suppressed fun.

"That I was, Miss, as you may well believe; it quite reconciled me to the country."

The sun rose brightly the next morning and the young Keiths were early on deck, romping and racing about, fall of the vivacity and mirth usually incident to extreme youth and perfect health.

They were well watched over by their father, Mildred and Rupert, or there is no knowing what wild and dangerous pranks might have been indulged in by Cyril and Don.

The former actually proposed a flying leap from the deck of the Queen Charlotte to that of the steamer and was not at all pleased by the decided veto put upon it by his father.

"I think you might let a fellow try, papa," he grumbled, "it would be such fun and I know I could do it."

"No, you couldna," said Don, peeping over the ship's side, "it's a big, big place."

"Come over to the other side of the deck, and stay there," said Mr. Keith, leading them away.

Rupert followed holding Fan by the hand. "What was that? what were they throwing in?" he asked, stopping suddenly at a sound as of a heavy body plunging into the water, while at the same instant a startled cry came from the deck of the Milwaukee.

"A man overboard!"

"A man overboard!" the fearful cry was taken up and repeated on all sides amid the rush of many feet and the quick, sharp imperative words of command.

Almost instantly a boat was lowered and strong arms were pulling with swift, vigorous strokes for the spot, already left far behind, where the splash of the falling body had been heard, and keen eyes were eagerly searching the waste of waters; the crews and passengers of the three vessels crowding the decks and following their movements in breathless anxiety and suspense.

They pulled backward and forward, calling out to the drowning one that help was near.

"Ah, yonder he is at last!" cries a woman's voice in exultant tones; "there he is with his head above water, for I see his hat."

"And they see him too, and are pulling toward him with all their might!"

"Ah, they're up with him! they have him now! hurrah!" and a wild cheer rose from hundreds of throats.

But it died away in a groan.

"It was his hat – only his hat, poor fellow. And they've given it up and are coming back without him!" sighs the woman who had been the first to raise the alarm.

Every face wears a look of sadness for the few moments of silent waiting as the rowers slowly return.

They gain the deck of the Milwaukee; one of them – a lad of nineteen or twenty, a rough, hardy sailor – comes forward with a subdued manner – in strange contrast to his accustomed rude hilarity – lips white and quivering, tears in his manly eyes.

"Mother, mother," he says, low and huskily, drawing near this woman with tottering steps, "don't – don't take it too hard. I – I couldn't bear to see you. I did my best; we all did; but we couldn't find him; and here's his hat. It – it was little Billy."