she looked delicately pure and fair; a snowdrop rather than any other flower, might have been her emblem. A pang shot through me as I reflected that I could never be viewed by her with any feeling but aversion, as I recalled a half-formed resolution to resign her. Then Langley came up, and I saw her eyelids quiver, and the blood mantle in her pale face. A spasm of rage actually shook my frame; but I turned gaily away, and gave orders to weigh and stand out, for the tide was making fast. The loosened sails were fluttering from boom and yard, and the last guest had arrived.
Up came the anchor, and soon the Calypso, under a cloud of canvas, stood to the north-east, and weathered the projecting point. The day was delightful. All my guests were in raptures, as the well-handled yacht performed her holiday cruise around the island, and ran past frowning cliffs and beetling crags whose picturesque grandeur called forth the enthusiasm of the young ladies of our party. There was a good band of musicians on deck, a tempting collation spread below. Cabins and deck were the scene of enjoyment and mirth; there was feasting and flirting, and a dance on the smooth planks, and all went well. My guests were happy, hungry, and merry. My own spirits were unusually high, and I gleaned golden opinions on all hands.
At last we were clear of the island, heading towards the Atlantic. The beauty of the day had in a great degree gone off; there was a thin haze over the sky, and far away to eastward lay piled up, layer upon layer, a bank of darkening clouds. The company had no eyes for these ominous signs; the wind, which now came in puffs, was still south-westerly, and we had to tack repeatedly. I was standing near the binnacle when Mr. Hemmings came up and asked me, in a respectful tone, whether he should “put her about.”
“Not yet,” said I, as my eye lighted on Harold Langley at Lucy’s side; “I want to stand along the Dorsetshire coast, and we can get back to Ryde by nine o’clock or so.”
“Beg pardon, sir,” said Hemmings; “I don’t half fancy them clouds to east’ard, there, Sir Wilfred, over our larboard quarter. The ladies”—
Just then I saw watchful Mrs. Digby interpose her portly person between her daughter and Langley; I saw Lucy’s look of disappointment. All hell was in my heart, and I swore inwardly that I would have my revenge. For what? Alas! pure envy prompted me.
“Mr. Hemmings,” said I, “you will be pleased to follow my instructions.”
The old sailor bit his lip, touched his hat, and moved off. Not half an hour elapsed before a rustling and flapping overhead, a creaking of the booms, and the hurrying tramp of the seamen, made all look up, and alarmed the more timid. The wind had changed. It had chopped round to the south-east, blew harder and harder, and as the sea got up, the schooner’s motion increased. The cloud-bank blackened. At first, all went well. We scudded gallantly, the gentlemen of the party encouraged the ladies, and declared the cruise charming and the weather delightful.
My mind was fully made up. I would do as I had planned. Lucy should have a grimmer bridegroom than the one she had loathed so much. Her bridal robe should be the white foam of ocean, and its fathomless depths her tomb. Yes, all should perish, and I, the banned, the accursed one from my cradle, should prove mightier to slay than all these to save. I hugged the notion that I shold see Langley blench and quail, and should earn the right to depise him ere he died.
I took the command of the schooner. This caused little surprise or comment. I was acknowledged a tolerable sailor, even by Hemmings, who had a gruff contempt for yachtsmen in general, and was more competent to manage a vessel than is often the case with amateur navigators. But mine was a hard task. I had to crush down my own feelings, to wear a mask of composure, to issue orders that should appear reasonable to my crew, and yet to bring about the ruin I thirsted for.
I gave orders to reduce sail, and the men sprang gladly to the reef-points and brail-lines. I kept the yacht before the wind, and old Hemmings reluctantly obeyed. And I had my reward; for presently a flash of lightning clove the swarthy clouds, and the ladies shrieked as the thunder-peal rolled past, and the wind howled fiercely through the rigging. Down came the squall in its strength. Rushing before the wind came the black bank of clouds, the driving rain, the gusts that tore up the seething sea and made the water hiss and boil like barm. The first shock laid the Calypso on her beam-ends; the waves washed her decks; all was confusion, screaming, and dismay. The schooner righted; she behaved well, but to go about was impossible, and to run before the wind was our only chance. I had a strong crew. Hemmings was a first-rate seaman, and the Calypso had good handling. Under just as much sail as gave her steerage way, we went flying to westward, chased by the dark clouds and driving scud. Still, I eluded suspicion. No notion of my design entered the mind of any one, and I was outwardly calm. Calm! I could have whooped and shouted in unison with the turmoil of the elements. What was death to me, and in such goodly companionship? I was too clever for them, then, after all! I hugged the thought to my tortured heart. Thus we flew, arrow-swift, before the gale, plunging, darting through the wild and stormy sea, and on our starboard bow lay the line of Dorsetshire cliffs, while the stony heights of Portland Island were to larboard.
A great change had come over the gay company. They were too frightened for sea-sickness, but they cowered and crouched, wet, miserable, with white faces and drenched garments. A few of the male guests were trying to quiet the fears of the terror-struck women. Langley was at Lucy’s side. We had to fetch a wide compass to clear Portland Bill, but the Calypso was a weatherly craft, and old Hemmings lauded her performance with all a seaman’s pride.
“After all,” said he, “it was but a wet jacket, and a pleasure trip spoiled.”
I laughed inwardly. And now the Portland rocks were left on the starboard beam, and