Pat lived in a state of excited expectation after the departure of little Rupert, counting the days till the week should be over, and then spending almost all his time in waiting and watching for the white-sailed boat which should bring his little prince back to him again.
But for this hope to look forward to, the child would have felt very keenly the absence of his playmate; for they all sadly missed the happy laughter and baby of the golden-haired child they had learned to love. Jim seemed to miss him as much as anybody, and perhaps both he and Pat were happiest when sitting over the fire together after dusk, and talking of his beauty, his bold, masterful ways, and the quick, clever things he had said and done. They never seemed tired of the subject, and if Pat was not reading to Jim out of the book they both loved so well, they were almost always talking of Rupert, wondering where he was, and what he was doing, and whether he would come soon and see them and Rock again.
Poor Jim only got on very slowly. The doctor who had come with Sir Arthur and Lady St. John in their boat had told them it would be a long time before he would be fit for any sort of work again, and Jim began to feel as though his working days were over for ever. He had of late lost flesh and muscle rather fast. He noticed how shrunken his arms began to look, and Pat would sometimes tell him that his face was much thinner than it used to be. His bronze was paling too, and now that Eileen kept his hair brushed and trimmed, and his bushy beard was reduced to order, he certainly looked a very different creature from the rough, Jim of past days. He used to feel a sheepish sort of pride when Pat would hold up a little looking-glass before his face to show him "how handsome he was getting!" But certainly the change both in the man's aspect and the expression of his face was greatly in his favour; and Eileen found it hard to remember that she had once thought him the most of humanity that she had ever come across. But she was more and more convinced that there was something seriously wrong with him, and that he would never be able to resume the hard life of a which he had always led hitherto. What would become of the poor fellow she could not bear to think, only that the recollection of Lady St. John's gentle look and words would occur to her at , and she felt sure that the lady would not allow the brave rescuer of her child to come to want through his act of devotion and bravery.
What Jim thought about it all himself she did not know, until one night when they chanced to be alone together whilst the other men were up aloft, and Pat was sleeping soundly in his bed. The wind had been rather wild again the last few nights, and it was blowing half-a-gale now. Eileen was preparing something hot for the watchers when they should come down, and Jim, who was not disposed to go to bed just yet, was sitting watching her.
"It must seem a strange sort of thing to you, Jim," she said, smiling, "to have to do with the lamp on nights like these. I wonder if you miss going up to her (as Pat says) these nights? Do you think of her or dream of her in your sleep?"
"Now and again I do—dream I'm going up and up and up the stairs, and can't never reach the top. That's the nights when my breathing's bad. It comes to me like a dream of going on and on up the stairs, not able to breathe, and the stairs never ending. I'm glad to wake then, and find myself in bed. Sometimes I wonder whether I'll ever get up those stairs again."
Eileen's face was full of sympathy and quick comprehension.
"Do you feel like that, Jim? Do you feel very bad?"
"I don't know rightly how to say it; but I feel as though all the life and spring had been took out of me. I don't seem to have no strength inside nor out. That's all I feel. The pain don't trouble me much. But I've a feeling sometimes that it could be pretty sharp if I was to try moving about or lifting weights again. I don't know whether I shall ever get up those stairs to have a look at her again. Sometimes I feel as if my last look would be when the boat comes to take me away from the Lone Rock for good and all."
"Oh, Jim! But you're not going to leave us yet!"
"I don't know, my lass. I don't know. But I'm only a useless log here, and any day they may send and fetch me away. I sent a message by the doctor to them on shore, saying as I wasn't able to do my work, and that I couldn't look to stay on here. I've sort of expected to be took away ever since, but they haven't come for me yet."
"And where will you go, Jim, when they do take you ?" asked Eileen, with wide-open, wondering eyes. "Have you got any friends as would give you a bit of a home till you were fit for work again?"
", I've got naught of that sort," answered the man quietly. "You see I wasn't never one for making friends at the best of time, and the last ten years I've been in prison, or else here on Lone Rock. I suppose they'll take me into the 'Firmary till I'm a bit stronger and better; and if so be as I'm never fit to earn my bread again, I suppose I shall get kept on there the rest of my time."
"Oh, Jim!" cried Eileen, her eyes full of tears, "you don't never mean you'll have to spend the rest of your days in the workhouse!"
He shook his head gently, and his face grew strangely soft and thoughtful.
"Nay, lass, I don't know—I can't see not a step before me; but somehow that don't trouble me. May be it's because I'm weak-like and sick; but the thought about what's coming doesn't trouble me one bit. I've a feeling somewhere that the Lord will see after me; and His way is sure to be the best, and will lead straightest home. It seemed like as if He called me by name that night, and I went out into the sea not knowing whether I'd sink in the waves or not. He kept me from that, and brought me safe ashore, and it seems as though I could leave everything else to Him now. I couldn't see the way in the dark, with the waves all tumbling and washing over me; but He could see, and so He can now. That's how I think about it; it's all right as long as He knows."
Eileen's tears dropped, but she turned her face away and dried them quickly, and then her smile shone out like a sunbeam.
"Well, if that's how you feel about it, you're a happy man, Jim, and I needn't worrit myself about you as I have been doing. If we only leave the future in the hands of the blessed , we never find that He gives us cause to regret. He cares for us a deal better than we know how to care for ourselves."
"It's caring for ourselves as makes us sink in the waves, I'm thinking, often," said Jim thoughtfully. "That was the way with Peter. It was all right with him so long as he looked at the Lord and trusted. It was only when he began to think about himself, and the danger he was in, that he began to sink, and then so soon as he cried to the Lord he was saved, and helped in the midst of his . It all comes to that all the Bible through—do the best you can—do the duty that comes to you—and leave the rest to Him. That was in my head all the while that night. I can't feel afraid now. Whatever comes to be will be His doing."
And after that Eileen ceased to herself over poor Jim's future. She felt that he had within him that which would brighten his lot, and make it a happy one, be it cast where it might.
The seas ran too high for several days longer for there to be any hope of a visit to Lone Rock, but towards the end of the month a calm came down on the face of the sea, and Pat resumed his watch with the greatest eagerness and interest. How he wished that Jim could climb up to the gallery and share it with him, but Jim was quite unable to think of attempting such a . So the little boy divided his time between the high look-out place and the fireside where Jim passed his time; and Eileen spruced up her kitchen, and made it as bright as hands could make it, to be ready day by day for the arrival of the little prince on his promised visit.
One day Pat saw a beautiful yacht steaming past the Lone Rock at half a mile distance, and making for the bay beyond. He was always interested in such a , but he did not connect her appearance with the return of his little prince, till he presently saw her casting anchor in the bay and launching a boat from the side; and then in great excitement he got his father to come with the telescope, and five minutes later was tearing down the stairs at the risk of toppling down and breaking his neck in his haste.
"Mother! mother! Jim!—he's coming! They're coming! I saw them quite plain. They came in a beautiful ship of their own, and now the boat is coming to the rock. Oh, mother! they are all there—the king and the queen and the little prince"—for so Pat was accustomed to speak of them, in spite of his father's laughter and his mother's attempted explanations. "Oh, Jim, do come down to the rocks and see them land! Prince Rupert will be so pleased to see you there. Come, mother! Come, Jim!"
There was no resisting him. Jim could hobble about a little with his stick, and the three went out together into the bright sunshine, and stood watching whilst the white-winged boat came skimming over the waves towards them. Pat was wildly waving his cap, and shouting out his greetings long before they could be heard; but as soon as the boat got within hail, the little yellow-haired boy, who was in a suit of sailor white, and ............