Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 20 (24 page)

 
          
Intent
on watching the splendid spectacle he forgot to look for the mermaid, till
something white flashed by, and turning with a start he saw a human face rise
from the sea, follow ed by a pair of w hite arms, that beckoned as the lips
smiled and the bright eyes w atched him w hile he sat motionless, till, with a
sound of musical laughter, the phantom vanished.

 
          
Uttering
an exclamation, he was about to follow, when a violent shock made him reel in
his seat, and a glance showed him the peril he was in, for the boat had drifted
between two rocks; the next wave would shatter it.

 
          
The
instinct of self-preservation being stronger than curiosity, he pulled for his
life and escaped just in time.

 
          
Steering
into calmer w ater he took an observation, and decided to land if possible, and
search the chasm where the watery sprite or bathing-girl had seemed to take
refuge. It was some time, however, before he found any safe harbor, and with
much difficulty he at last gained the shore, breathless, wet and weary.

 
          
Guided
by the noise of the waves he came at length to the brink of the precipice and
looked down. There were ledges and crannies enough to afford foothold for a
fearless climber, and full of the pleasurable excitement of danger and
adventures, Southesk swung himself down with a steady head, strong hand and
agile foot. Not many steps were taken when he paused suddenly, for the sound of
a voice arrested him. Fitfully it rose and fell through the dash of advancing
and retreating billows, but he heard it distinctly, and with redoubled
eagerness looked and listened.

 
          
Half-way
down the chasm lav a mass of rock, firmly wedged between the two sides by some
convulsion of nature which had hurled it there. Years had evidently passed
since it fell, for a tree had taken root and shot up, fed by a little patch of
earth, and sheltered from wind and storm in that secluded spot. W ild vines,
led by their instinct for the light, climbed along either wall and draped the
cliff with green. Some careful hand had been at w ork, how ever, for a few
hardy plants blossomed in the almost sunless nook; every niche held a delicate
fern, every tiny basin was full of some rare old weed, and here and there a
suspended shell contained a tuft of greenish moss, or a bird’s eggs, or some
curious treasure gathered from the deep. The sombre verdure of the little pine
concealed a part of this airv nest, but from the hidden nook the sweet voice
rose singing a song well suited to the scene —

 
          
“Oh, come unto the yellow sands.”

 
          
Feeling
as if he had stepped into a fairy tale, the young man paused with suspended
breath till the last soft note and its softer echo had died awav, then he
noiselessly crept on. Soon his quick eye discovered a rope ladder, half hidden
by the vines and evidently used as a path to the marine bower below. Availing
himself of it he descended a few steps, but not far, for a strong gust blew up
the rift, and swaying aside the leafy screen disclosed the object of his
search. No mermaid but a young girl, sitting and singing like a bird in her
green nest.

 
 
          
As
the pine waved to and fro, Southesk saw that the unknown sat in a thoughtful
attitude, looking out through the wide rift into the sunny blue beyond. He saw,
too, that a pair of small, bare feet shone white against the dark bottom of a
rocky basin, full of newly fallen rain; that a plain grey gown defined the
lithe outlines of a girlish figure, and that the damp dark rings of hair were
fastened back with a pretty band of shells.

 
          
So
intent on looking was he that he leaned nearer and nearer, till a sudden
gesture caused the comb to slip from his pocket and fall into the basin with a
splash that roused the girl from her reverie. She started, seized it eagerly,
and looking upward exclaimed with a joyful accent,

 
          
“Why,
Stern, where did you find my comb?”

 
          
There
was no answer to her question, and the smile died on her lips, for instead of
Stern’s rough, brown countenance she saw, framed in green leaves, a young and
comely face.

 
          
Blonde
and blue-eyed, flushed and eager, the pleasant apparition smiled down upon her
with an aspect which brought no fear, but woke wonder and won confidence by the
magic of a look. Only a moment did she see it; then the pine boughs came
between them. The girl sprang up, and Southesk, forgetting safety in curiosity,
leaped down.

 
          
He
had not measured the distance; his foot slipped and he fell, striking his head
with a force that stunned him for a moment. The cool drip of water on his
forehead roused him, and he soon collected himself, although somewhat shaken by
his fall. Half-opening his eyes he looked into a dark yet brilliant face, of
such peculiar beauty that it struck and charmed him at a single glance. Pity,
anxiety and alarm were visible in it, and glad of a pretext for prolonging the
episode, he resolved to feign the suffering he did not feel. With a sigh he
closed his eyes again, and for a moment lay enjoying the soft touch of hands
about his head, the sound of a quickly-beating heart near him, and the pleasant
consciousness that he was an object of interest to this sweet-voiced unknown.
Too generous to keep her long in suspense, he soon raised his head and looked
about him, asking faintly,

 
          
“Where
am I?”

           
“In the chasm, but quite safe with
me,” replied a fresh young voice.

 
          
“Who
is this gentle ‘me whom I mistook for a mermaid, and whose pardon I ask for
this rude intrusion?”

 
          
“I’m
Ariel, and I forgive you willingly.”

 
          
“Pretty
name — is it really yours?” asked Southesk, feeling that his simplest manner
was the surest to win her confidence, for the girl spoke with the innocent
freedom of a child.

 
          
“I
have no other, except March, and that is not pretty.”

 
          
“Then,
‘A. M.’ on the comb docs not mean ‘A mermaid,’ as old Jack thought when he gave
it to me?”

 
          
A
silvery laugh followed his involuntary smile, as, still kneeling by
him,
Ariel regarded him with much interest, and a very frank
expression of admiration in her beautiful eyes.

 
          
“Did
vou come to bring it back to me?” she asked, turning the recovered treasure in
her hand.

 
          
“Yes;
Jack told me about the prettv water-sprite he saw, so I came to find her, and
am not vet sure that you’re not a Lorelei, for you nearly wrecked me, and
vanished in a most unearthly manner.” “Ah!” she said, with the blithe laugh
again, “I lead the life of a mermaid though I’m not one, and when I’m disturbed
I play pranks, for I know every cranny of the rocks, and learned swimming and
diving from the gulls.”

           
“Flying also, I should think, by the
speed with which you reached this nook, for I made all haste, and nearly killed
myself, as you see.”

 
          
As
he spoke, Southesk tried to rise, but a sharp twinge in his arm made him pause,
with an exclamation of pain.

 
          
“Are
you much hurt? Can I do anything more for you?” and the voice was womanly pitiful,
as the girl watched him.

 
          
“I’ve
cut my arm, I
think,
and lamed my foot; but a little
rest w ill set them right. May I wait here a few minutes, and enjoy your lovely
nest; though it’s no place for a clumsy mortal like me?”

 
          
“Oh,
yes; stay as long as you please, and let me bind up your wound. See how it
bleeds.”

 
          
“You
are not afraid of me then?”

 
          
“No;
why should I be?” and the dark eyes looked fearlessly into his as Ariel bent to
examine the cut. It was a deep one, and he fancied she would cry out or turn
pale; but she did neither, and having skilfully bound a wet handkerchief about
it, she glanced from the strong arm and shapely hand to their owner’s face, and
said, naively,

 
          
“What
a pity there will be a scar.”

 
          
Southesk
laughed outright, in spite of the smart, and, leaning on the uninjured arm,
prepared to enjoy
himself
, for the lame foot was a
fiction.

 
          
“Never
mind the scar. Men consider them no blemish, and I shall be prouder of this
than half a dozen others I have, because by means of it I get a glimpse into
fairy land. Do you live here on foam and sunshine, Ariel?”

 
          
“No;
the lighthouse is my home now.”

 
          
There
was evident reluctance in her manner. She seemed to weigh her words, yet longed
to speak out, and it was plain to see that the newcomer was very welcome to her
solitude. With all his boldness, Southesk unconsciously tempered his manner
with respect, and neither by look nor tone caused any touch of fear to disturb
the innocent creature whose retreat he had discovered.

 
          
“Then
you are Ralph’s daughter, as I fancied?” he went on, putting his questions with
an engaging air that was hard to resist.

 
          
“Yes.”

 
          
Again
she hesitated, and again seemed eager to confide even in a stranger, but
controlled the impulse, and gave brief replies to all home questions.

 
          
“No
one knows you are here, and you seem to lead a hidden life like some enchanted
princess. It only needs a Miranda to make a modern version of the Tempest.” He
spoke half aloud, as if to himself, but the girl answered readily —

 
          
“Perhaps
I am to lead you to her as the real Ariel led Ferdinand to Miranda, if you’ve
not already found her.”

 
          
“Why,
what do you know of Shakespeare?
and
how came you by
your pretty name?” asked Southesk, wondering at the look and tone which
suddenly gave the girl’s face an expression of elfish intelligence.

 
          
“I
know and love Shakespeare better than any of my other
books,
and can sing every song he wrote. I low beautiful they are! See, I have worn
out mv dear book with much reading.”

 
          
As
she spoke, from a dry nook in the rock she drew a dilapidated volume, and
turned its pages with a loving hand, while all the innocent sweetness returned
to her voting face, lending it new beauty.

 
          
“What
a charming little sprite it is,” thought Southesk, adding aloud, with an irresistible
curiosit\ that banished politeness,

 
          
“And
the name, how came that?”

 
          
“Father
gave it to me.” There she paused, adding hastily, “He loves Shakespeare as well
as I do, and taught me to understand him.”

 
          
“Here’s
a romantic pair, and a mystery of some sort, which I’ll amuse myself
bv
unraveling, if possible,” he thought, and put another
question — “Have vou been here long?”

 
          
“No;
I only spend the hot hours here.”

 
          
“Another evasion.
I shall certainly be driven into asking
her, point blank, who and what she is,” said Southesk to himself, and, to avoid
temptation, returned to the comb which Ariel still held.

 
          
“Who
carved that so daintily? I should like to bespeak one tor myself it is so
pretty.”

 
          
“
I
carved it, and was very happv at my
work. It’s hard to find amusement on this barren island, so I invent all sorts
ot
things to while away the time.”