Light O' the Morning: The Story of an Irish Girl by L. T. Meade (best ereader for pdf .TXT) 📗
- Author: L. T. Meade
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“The storm is on us; but, thank the Almighty, we're safe,” said Mike, with a little sob. “I wish to goodness we hadn't come, all the same.”
“And so do I,” said Biddy; “it is perfectly awful being in a cave like this. What shall we do?”
“Do!” said Neil. “Hould your tongues and stay aisy. Faix, it's the Almighty is having a bit of a talk; you stay quiet and listen.”
The four oars were shipped now, and the boat swayed restlessly up and down.
“Aren't we going any farther?” said Nora.
“Not while this storm lasts. Oh, for goodness' sake, Nora, do stay quiet,” said Biddy.
Andy now produced out of his pocket a box of matches and a candle. He struck a match, applied it to the candle, and the next moment a feeble flame shot up. It was comparatively calm within the cave.
“There! that will light us a bit,” said Andy. “The storm won't last long. It's well we got into shelter. Now, then, we'll do fine.”
“You don't think,” said Biddy, in a terrified tone, “that the cave will be be crashed in?”
“Glory be to Heaven, no, miss—we have cheated the storm coming here.” The man smiled as he spoke, showing bits of broken teeth. His words were gentle enough, but his whole appearance was more like that of a wild beast than a man. Nora looked full at him. The candle lit up her pale face; her dark-blue eyes were full of courage; a lock of her black hair had got loose in the exertion of rowing, and had fallen partly over her shoulder and neck. “Faix, then, you might be the Banshee herself,” said Andy, bending forward and looking at her attentively.
“If the moon comes out again we may see the Banshee,” whispered Nora. “Can we not go farther into the cave? Time is flying.” She took her watch from her pocket and looked at the hour. It was already past eleven o'clock.
“The storm will be over in good time,” said the man. “Do you want to get the gleam of moonlight in the crack of the inner cave? Is that what you're afther, missy?”
“Yes,” said Nora.
“Well, you stay quiet; you'll reach it right enough.”
“Nora wants to see the Banshee, Andy,” called out Biddy. “Oh, what a flash! It nearly blinded me.”
“The rain will soon be on us, and then the worst of the storm will be past,” said the man.
Mike uttered a scream; the lightning was now forked and intensely blue. It flashed into every cranny in the cave, showing the barnacles on the roof, the little bits of fern, the strange stalactites. After the flash had passed, the darkness which followed was so intense that the light of the dim candle could scarcely be seen. Presently the rain thundered down upon the bare rock above with a tremendous sound; there were great hailstones; the thunder became less frequent, the lightning less vivid. In a little more than half an hour the fierce storm had swept on to other quarters.
“Now, then, we can go forward,” said Andy. He took up his oars. “You had best stay quiet, missies; just sit there in the bottom of the boat, and let me push ahead.”
“Then I will hold the candle,” said Nora.
“Right you are, miss.”
She took it into her cold fingers. Her heart was beating high with suppressed excitement; she had never felt a keener pleasure in her life. If only she might see the Banshee, and implore the spirit's intercession for the fortunes of her house!
The man rowed on carefully, winding round corners and avoiding many dangers. At last they came bump upon some rocks.
“Now, then,” he said, “we can't go a step farther.”
“But we must,” said Nora. “We have not reached the chasm in the rock. We must.”
“We dare not, miss; the boat hasn't water enough to float her.”
“Well, then, I shall wade there. How far on is the chasm?”
“Oh, Nora! Nora! you won't be so mad as to go alone?” called out Biddy.
“I shan't be a scrap afraid,” said Nora.
“But there's water up to your knees; you dare not do it,” said Biddy.
“Yes, I dare; and the tide is going down—is it not?”
“It will be down a good bit in half an hour,” said the man, “and we'll be stranded here as like as not. These are bad rocks when the tide is low; we must turn and get out of this, miss, in a quarter of an hour at the farthest.”
“Oh, I could just do it in a quarter of an hour,” said Nora.
She jumped up, and the next moment had sprung out of the boat into the water, which nearly reached up to her knees.
“Oh, Nora! Nora! you'll be lost; you'll slip and fall in that awful darkness, and we'll never see you again,” said Biddy, with a cry of terror.
“No, no; let her go,” said Andy. “There ain't no fear, miss; you have but to go straight on, holding your candle and avoiding the rocks to your left, and you'll come to the opening. Be as quick as you can, Miss Nora; be as quick as you can.”
His voice had a queer note in it. Nora gave him a look of gratitude, and proceeded on her dangerous journey. Her one fear was that the candle might go out; the flame flickered as the air got less good; the hot grease scalded her fingers; but suddenly a breeze of fresher air reached her, and warned her that she was approaching the aperture. There came a little puff of wind, and the next moment the brave girl found herself in total darkness. The candle had gone out. Just at that instant she heard, or fancied she heard, a splash behind her in the water. There was nothing for it now but to go forward. She resolved not to be terrified. Perhaps it was a water-rat; perhaps it was the Banshee. Her heart beat high; still she had no fear. She was going to plead for her father. What girl would be terrified with such a cause in view? She walked slowly and carefully on, and at last the fresher air was followed by a welcome gleam of light; she was approaching the opening. The next moment she had found it. She stood nearly up to her knees in the water; the shaft of moonlight was piercing down into the cave. Nora went and stood in the moonlight. The hole at the top was little more than a foot in width; there was a chasm, a jagged chasm, through which the light came. She could see a bit of cloudless sky, and the cold moonlight fell all over her.
“Oh, Banshee!—Lady Spirit who belongs
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