My Danish Sweetheart, Volume 3 of 3

Africa for London, stopped her engines and came to a stand off the port of Falmouth, to put Helga and me

e engine-room; our passage to Madeira was so slow as to be little more than a dull and tedious crawling over the waters; and we were delayed for some co

of rich and varied pictures has to show-lay plain in our eyes. Streaks of snow upon the heights shone like virgin silver in the crisp brilliant November sun of that wintry Channel mo

I pulled out the money that I had taken from Mr. Jones's berth, and said: 'Here are thirteen pounds and some shillings, Abraham, which belonged to that poor mate whom the Malays killed. Here is half the amount for you and Jacob; the other half will carry Miss Nielsen and me to Tintrenale. I

they lived. I the

an that I could not have said at the moment, for my throat tightened when I lo

of form and violence of gesture that I feared to see them fall overboard. But the steamer was now in motion, and in a very little while the two figures were indistinguishable. I have never seen them since; yet, as I write these words and think of the

be to send news of my safe return, that he might deliver it with all caution to my mother; for it was not to be foreseen how a sudden shock of joy might serve her. So we were

arts for our preservation from the many dark and deadly perils we had encountered, and for our restoration, s

her many endearing qualities of tenderness, goodness, simple piety, of her girlish gentleness of character, which, in the hour of trial and of danger, could harden into the courage of the lioness, without loss, as I knew, of the sweetness and the bloom of her maidenhood. I felt, too, she was mine in a sense novel indeed in the experiences of love-mak

s and making our sight ache with gazing and with expectation: not to dwell upon this and much more that memory loves to recall, Monday morning's post brought me a letter from Mr. Trembath. My mother was well-he had told her I was at Falmouth-I was to come to her without delay. It was a long l

ed upon our eyes. We instantly stopped, and I grasped Helga's hand while we stood looking. It was a keen bright blue morning, the air of a frosty, of an almost prismatic brilliance of purity owing to the shining ranges of snow upon

he Anine brought u

glowing like fire in the blue. Far off, at the foot of Hurricane Point, was the cloudy glimmer of boiling water, the seething of the Atlantic fold recoiling from the giant base. A smart little schooner lay half a mi

ng!' said I, an

d us as a brace of parishioners, I dare say. 'Great Heaven! it is Hugh Tregarthen!' he cried, starting out of his chair as though a red-hot iron had been applied to him. H

, with the wildest earnestness of expression, into my face, while his eyes danced with congratulation and gratification. 'We gave you up.

other, Mr. Trembath

Why are you not with her instead of with me? But

o Helga, and his fac

yours?' and he gave her an odd s

let me introduce you to Miss Helga Nielsen, my betrothed-the young lady who

dear heart looked as she stood with her hand in his, smiling and blushing, her blue eyes filled with emotion, that darkene

fy nothing. Let us seat ourselves that I may briefly tell you my story and explai

e hour of my boarding the Anine, and I observed that as I talked he incessant

is repeated exclamations of amazement, his frequent starts and questions, to throw me off the straight course of my recit

inly be undesirable. You will prepare the way. I shall know how to congratul

rembath. What of my

d and blew in a hurricane off the land, as of course you remember; yet the drive of the seas stranded the survivors down upon the southern end

y are al

nding close by the spot to which the sea washed them: he rushed away for help; they were carried to their h

and whispered some exclam

hat Mr. Trembath might remember my sweetheart was not to be absent from me for more t

spreads to the narrow boundaries of it, and, though Mr. Trembath had only heard from me on the preceding day, the whole town knew that I was alive, that I was at Falmouth, that I was on my way home. But for th

he window, and, to judge from the celerity with which the door flew open,

r mo

rling

could not speak for weeping. But tears of rejoicing are soon dried,

w-white hair, her dear old face, her dim eyes, in which lay a heart-light of holy, reverent exultation, the trembling fingers with which she caressed my hair-the homely little parlour, too, with the dance of the fire-play in the shady corners of the room, its twenty details of pictures, sideboard-I know not what else-all my life familiar to me,

was written upon a board, and read by the

days ago, Hugh! I believed I shou

s,' said I: 'the third presently to be as precious in this little

ou are saying?'

in the adventures I am going to relate to you,'

as an expression of mingled alarm and remonstrance, almost as anticipative as though she had spoken. God knows why it was she should thus suggest that she had lighted upon what was still a secret to her, seeing, as one might suppose, that the very last notion which would occur t

y all about Helga: her devotion to her father, her marvellous spirit in the direst extremity, her pious resignation to the stroke that had made her an orphan. I put before my mother a picture of the raft, the star-lit gloom of the night, the dying man with his wife's portrait in his hand. I told her of Helga's heroic struggle with her anguish of ber

ympathy; tears stood in her eyes while I was telling her of the poor Danish captain's death and of Helga kneeling in pra

where i

. Trem

in Tin

rembath's

u not bring

to break

was a good daughter, and she is a g

her better and better. She is to be my wife. Oh, mother, you will welcome her-you will take her

icion, of a mother's jealousy, which I have spoken of, had yielded to m

oung to ma

no, m

e are poor, dear; and she

rls, mother, who, havin

her head as though in a reverie, and fixed her

ng of her pare

o and what her father was. But you shall question her, mother. I s

a servant, and, rushing to the door, brought Helga into the parlour. The clergyman followed, and as Helga stood in the doorway he peered over her shoulder at my mother. The dear girl w

d looked at the girl. It was a swift, penetrating

, stepping up to her, she took her by the hands, k

he present, Hugh,' ex

company yo

gh! This is your proper place,' and s

ith a friendly

nth; and now I put down my pen very well satisfied that I leave you who have followed me in no doubt as to the issue of Helga's introduction to my mother, though it would go beyond my s

e constantly talking of making an excursion to Copenhagen: the mere fancy, perhaps, gives us as much pleasure as the trip itself would. Through the friendly offices of the Danish Vice-Consul at Falmouth, we were enabled to r

ould have made a little dowry for Helga, for, though I had not seen the vessel's papers, I might reasonably suppose the value of the cargo, added to that of the bar

ative of her adventures after we had been tricked out of her by her coloured crew is one of the strangest romances of the sea that my experience has encoun

E