HELP FROM SHORE

The two little boys stood hand in hand on the rocks, waving their caps and cheering as the boat came dashing through the foaming waves towards the Lone Rock. The sea was still running high, but approach was possible to those who well understood what they were about. A man stood upright in the bow of the boat, boat-hook in hand, and every few moments he called out some word of warning to those behind him. As the boat neared the rock, the sail came down with a run, and the crew, taking to their oars, rowed carefully and cautiously towards the basin where a boat could float at ease, and where Nat stood, ready to render assistance when the craft should come alongside.

"Glad to see you well and hearty, mate," shouted the man in the bow, as soon as he was within earshot. "We've been anxious about the Lone Rock ever since you signalled for help. We were afeard some harm had befallen you. What's wrong with you here?"

"Jim's on the sick list," shouted Nat back, "can't stir hand or foot. Have you brought a doctor with you, mates?"

"Ay, ay, he's here sure enough, and other things too you may want if you've a sick man with you. Is he too bad to be sent ashore? What's wrong with him?"

"The doctor must tell us that. My wife thinks it's broken ribs. I'll tell you the tale when you get on shore. Steady there with the boat! Ease her a bit and hold her back. There's a big drift running in just here. So steady! Here she comes. Throw me the line, mate. Now she'll do. Keep her steady and fend off from the rocks. So!"

The boys, watching with eager eyes the advance of the boat, cheered aloud when it was safely drawn up in the little creek. The man in the bow, who was an old crony of Nat's, looked at the pair with an air of astonishment.

"Why, Nat, you've never raised another in this time!" he exclaimed; "I never knew you had more than little Pat over here. Where did the second come from? He doesn't look much like a child of yours. He looks as if he's come straight from fairyland, wherever that may be."

"From the sea-fairies, then," answered Nat, with a smile, "for Jim got him out of the water the night when the storm was at its worst. That's how he came by the blow which has laid him by the heels. But the boy never seemed a bit the worse after he came to. He's a wonderful saucy little fellow, gentry-born, as one can see, and as hold as a little lion. Have you heard aught ashore of a child gone overboard in the gale?" The men shook their heads, looking with keen interest at the little golden-headed fellow who was helping Nat to hold the boat, and looking as though everything depended on himself!

"Look alive, men!" he piped out in his high pitched voice. "Tumble out and get ashore! We've been waiting for you ever such a lot of days! Lend a hand, Pat, and hold her steady!"

Laughing and admiring, the men sprang ashore, speaking kindly words to Pat, whom most of them knew, and looking with keen interest at the beautiful little boy, who continued to issue his baby commands in such nautical language as he could command.

"He's been afloat before now," said the men one to another. "He's picked up that air from some bo'sun as keeps his men well in order. He's a rare young game-cock, he is! Picked up out of the sea, was he, Nat? We must try and find out where he comes from. Anything about him to say?"

"No; and the spar he came on was not picked up either. That might have told us something; but it was so heavy Jim cut the child loose before we hauled them both in. There's a sort of a mark on some of his underclothes which my wife takes to have been a D before it was well nigh washed out; but it's hard to tell anything now, and all we can get from him is that his name is Prince Rupert, and that his father is a soldier. He seems to know very little about his parents, and the salt water perhaps washed most things out of his head. He hasn't talked but very little of anything he knew before; but he's a bold, merry little chap, and will make a fine sailor one of these days. Doesn't know what fear means!" The men all looked with interest at the little waif, who was busily engrossed with the rope—making fast the boat, as he plainly believed—and ordering Pat about in the most lordly way. His yellow curls were blowing about his rosy face; his big dark eyes were alight with excitement and self-importance. No one could fail to regard the little prince with admiration; and the sailors laughed together, and told Nat he had done a good thing for himself in befriending such a boy as that.

"He comes of fine folks—any one can see that, and they must be real set on such a smart little chap as him," said one, as they began to make their way to the lighthouse, where Eileen stood in the doorway smiling a welcome. "You won't be the loser by being good to him. He's a fine little fellow, and no mistake!"

"So he is," answered Nat, "but I don't want nothing for doing my duty by him. It was Jim as risked his life to save him. If his folks want to do something for him, I'll only think it right and proper, since I doubt if the poor chap will ever be the same again. But I've done nothing, and I want nothing. My wife's had all the bit of trouble he's been, and she'd do the same for any child that breathed, be he never so poor."

"Ay, that she would," answered more than one voice heartily. "She's a real good one is Eileen;" and then there were pleasant greetings between the bright-faced wife and mother and those who had come to assist the prisoners upon the Lone Hock; whilst the young surgeon, whom the sailors had brought with them, asked to be taken to his patient without more delay.

The boys lingered down by the boat, for the little prince was fascinated by it, and Pat had to show him everything, and explain the use of the various parts.

"We had boats," said Rupert, with his head a little on one side; "but they were fastened up so high I could never see into them. I like this boat. Do you fink we could get in and sail her off round and round the rock till the men want her again?"

But Pat negatived this bold suggestion, and Rupert was reluctantly borne off indoors "to see how poor Jim was getting on," as Pat coaxingly put it, for he was quite afraid the daring little fellow would really try to cast the boat loose and let it drift away. Nat's knots would most likely prove too much for him; but there was no knowing what his determination might not achieve.

The doctor and Eileen were with poor Jim, and the men sat round the table partaking of the meal she had prepared for them, and hearing from Nat the whole history of the storm, and the details of the rescue of the little stranger, which was thought a very interesting piece of intelligence. "We'll do all we can to find out who he is when we get ashore," said the cockswain of the boat, "and we'll leave Robin behind to help you with the lighthouse till something can be settled. You've had a hard time of it, Nat, these last ten days—Jim laid up, and another little 'un on your wife's hands."

"My wife's a jewel," answered Nat, a smile beaming over his honest face. "She's the sort of helpmate for a man like me. Never a word of complaint, however hard the work, and she's always ready to take a watch and let me get a good sleep. Then luckily there was nothing went wrong with the light, and the days were clear and fine. It might have been a good bit worse; not but what I'll be glad enough to have Robin's help for a spell. I fear me it'll be many weeks before Jim is up to anything again."

"Poor chap, I'm afeard he's a good bit hurt," said another, "but he seems a bit quieter like now. I wonder whether the doctor will let him be took ashore. He's a good bit of trouble to your wife here."

"I san't let Jim be took away," remarked a small voice from about the level of the table; "Jim's my pal. I likes him very much. I tell him tales, and I make him better. I san't let anybody take him away till my papa comes and makes him into a soldier, and then p'raps I'll go too, and everybody here, and we'll all live together somewhere where there's just a little more room. It isn't always just very con-wenient," with a gulp over the long word, "to have water everywhere all round. I fink a garden is better for some fings."

"Did you have a garden where you came from, my little man?" said the cockswain, lifting the child on to his knee amid a general laugh.

"Torse we did!" answered the child, looking up into the weather-beaten face fearlessly, "a great big garden, with trees and fings, and I played there every day. It was nice; but we hadn't got a sea-gull there, only two dogs. I fink I like a sea-gull best. He makes such nice noises and he dances, too. I fink I shall dig a great big ditch all round the garden, and fill it with the sea, and put a lighthouse in the middle, and Pat and his daddy and my Nan can live with me there; and the sea-gull, too, and then we should have everything, and it would be quite con-wenient for everybody."

"Do you know the name of the house where you lived, my hearty?" asked the man, with beaming face; but Rupert shook his head impatiently, and went chattering on about how his future domain was to be arranged.

"You can come sometimes in your big boat and see us, man," he remarked, "and I'll show you how to sail it in our sea, for I don't expect you'll know how to do it properly. I shall have a boat of my very own then: my papa will give me one. And when I'm not a soldier I shall be a sailor, and I'll teach you how to be one too."

"Thank you, my little man, I'll be sure and come and learn of you," and the child looked a little offended at the general laugh from the rest.

"You needn't bring those men with you another time," he said, "I don't fink they understand fings properly."

At that moment the young surgeon reappeared with Eileen in his wake. She looked grave and sorrowful, and went to the fire to take off the soup she was preparing, whilst the men glanced up at the doctor, and asked what he thought of his patient.

"We heard him groaning a good bit at first, and Jim isn't one to cry out for naught," said Rupert's friend; "I'm afraid he's a good bit hurt. What do you make of him, sir? Can he be taken ashore?"

"No, he must stay where he is. He could not stand any sort of move yet. He has been badly hurt, and there is a great deal of inflammation about him. He will be easier now that I have bandaged him up right, and his lungs will have a chance of healing; but he has been left much too long without medical aid. If I could have seen him at once, things would have been much better. However, we will hope for the best. Any way, the worst of the pain is over now, unless the inflammation spreads."

"Have you hurted my Jim?" asked Rupert, doubling his little fists and bristling up like a young turkey-cock. "If you have, I'll frash you. I won't have my Jim hurted. He came into the water after me. Now I'm taking care of him. You didn't ought to have gone and seen him without my leave!" and he strode up to the doctor as though he meant to inflict condign punishment upon him forthwith.

But the young man understood children, and soon made friends with the young autocrat, now ruling Lone Rock with a rod of iron. He soon got him to talk of himself, and called up many reminiscences of his past life, all of which he carefully noted. From his own better knowledge of the way in which gently-born children lived, he succeeded in eliciting more information from the boy than any of his other new friends had done.

When the little fellow grew tired of talking at last, and went out with Pat to play, the young man made some notes in his pocket book, and turning to Eileen, said—

"Are you anxious to be rid of your young charge? I will take him home to my mother if you like. I am sure she would give him shelter for a time, till he can be traced. Is he not rather a burden to you here?"

"Oh, no, sir, thank you kindly all the same; but unless it's wrong to say so, we's far rather keep him here till his own relations come for him. He's got that into our hearts that he almost seems like one of our own, bless him; and though I know the life's rough, and not what he's been used to, it hasn't seemed to hurt him."

"Hurt him! I should think not!—do the little rogue all the good in the world! There's nothing like roughing it a little to make a man of a boy brought up in luxury. Lone Rock discipline will be good for him in more ways than one. I was only thinking you would be rather full here with your patient and this boy, as well as the extra man left to help your husband; but you know best."

"Oh, the little fellow takes no room. He shares Pat's bed, and the two play together and help me with poor Jim, and I think they'd pine if they were took from each other now. Thank you kindly all the same, sir. Did you make out from the little boy who he was or where he came from?"

"Not exactly, but I think it's plain that he's been separated from his parents for some while, and that his father is either an officer in the army, or else holds some important official position in India. The child has been plainly made to understand that he is a very great man, and lives in kingly state somewhere. I think I have found out enough to help materially in identifying the boy when we set about to find out his belongings. He appears to be an only child of wealthy parents; and there will be inquiries after him along the coast, even if it is only for some trace of the drowned body. He could not have been so very long in the water before you got him, or he would have been more difficult to bring to life. It has been a wonderful escape, look at it as you will; and I hope that those to whom he belongs will do something for that brave fellow who risked his life for him; for I greatly fear he has received an injury which will disable him from active labour for the rest of his life. It is difficult to tell so soon, but I have my fears that it will be so. I will come over again in the course of a week and see him, if it is possible. Meantime, you can only go on as you have been doing, and I hope, now the bandaging has been done which was so much needed, that he will be easier. I see you are a very good nurse, and I leave him in your hands with every confidence."

"I will do what I can for him, sir, I'm sure; for he is a brave man, and he went to what might well have been his death without a thought for himself. But it's a hard thing to be laid aside at his age, especially since he has no friends to go to, and no relatives to help him. He's had a very lonely life of it, and a hard one, has poor Jim. It seems as though it was to be hard to the very end."

"We will hope there are brighter days coming for him," answered the young surgeon cheerfully; "I shall certainly make it known, if we succeed in tracing this child, that Jim has received these injuries in saving him from certain death. I cannot believe he will be allowed to suffer in consequence—suffer any sort of want, I mean. Poor fellow, he has had suffering enough of another kind, and may have more still, though I hope what I have done will give him ease."

And then the doctor went down to the boat where the crew were by this time waiting for him. The children were there, too, and cheered lustily as the boat put off into the big waves beyond the little creek. Rupert had stoutly resisted the blandishments of the cockswain, and had quite declined to let himself be taken from "his Nan," as he had called Eileen almost from the first. He was in charge of the lighthouse, he gravely asserted, and he couldn't possibly go away unless his father came for him. He was very busy every day, helping to keep the light burning, and taking care of Jim. He was far too important a person to be spared, and he flatly refused to be taken away by anybody.

"Now we'll come and tell Jim all about it," he said, as soon as the boat had grown small and insignificant in the distance; and as Jim was looking rather better by that time, he was pleased for Rupert to climb upon the bed and tell him all that had been said and done.

"They wanted to take you away, but I wouldn't allow it," said the little autocrat; "I said you'd like better to stay here, and that I'd frash anybody who took you away. I san't let you go to anybody except my papa, and if he takes you we'll all go and have a lighthouse of our own somewhere else, where there isn't so much water. I fink it's a pity to put them in the middle of the sea; they'd be more con-wenient in a garden where we could get at them more easily. We'll have our lighthouse in a garden when we go away from here."

Then Pat stole in with his soft step, and Jim looked at the Bible that lay beside him, and Pat took it and read a story, and explained it to Rupert as he was used to do now. The little boy liked this wind up of the day almost as much as Jim, and was always very attentive.

"I'll say my prayers to Jim to-night," he remarked suddenly, when the reading had concluded, "because I fink he's a very good man. I want him to get quite better, so we'll ask Jesus if He won't make him. I fink He must love poor Jim very much!"