Sylvia's Lovers

'They're gone down towards Hull, as I've been told,' said Kinraid.

'But they're a deep set, they'll be here before we know where we

are, some of these days.' 'See thee here!' said Daniel, exhibiting his maimed hand; 'a reckon

a served 'em out time o' t' Ameriky war.' And he began the story

Sylvia knew so well; for her father never made a new acquaintance

but what he told him of his self-mutilation to escape the

press-gang. It had been done, as he would himself have owned, to

spite himself as well as them; for it had obliged him to leave a

sea-life, to which, in comparison, all life spent on shore was worse

than nothing for dulness. For Robson had never reached that rank

aboard ship which made his being unable to run up the rigging, or to

throw a harpoon, or to fire off a gun, of no great consequence; so

he had to be thankful that an opportune legacy enabled him to turn

farmer, a great degradation in his opinion. But his blood warmed, as

he told the specksioneer, towards a sailor, and he pressed Kinraid

to beguile the time when he was compelled to be ashore, by coming

over to see him at Haytersbank, whenever he felt inclined.

Sylvia, appearing to listen to Molly's confidences, was hearkening

in reality to all this conversation between her father and the

specksioneer; and at this invitation she became especially

attentive.

Kinraid replied,-'I'm much obliged to ye, I'm sure; maybe I can come and spend an

ev'ning wi' you; but as soon as I'm got round a bit, I must go see

my own people as live at Cullercoats near Newcastle-upo'-Tyne.' 'Well, well!' said Daniel, rising to take leave, with unusual

prudence as to the amount of his drink. 'Thou'lt see, thou'lt see! I

shall be main glad to see thee; if thou'lt come. But I've na' lads

to keep thee company, only one sprig of a wench. Sylvia, come here,

an let's show thee to this young fellow!' Sylvia came forwards, ruddy as any rose, and in a moment Kinraid

recognized her as the pretty little girl he had seen crying so

bitterly over Darley's grave. He rose up out of true sailor's

gallantry, as she shyly approached and stood by her father's side,

scarcely daring to lift her great soft eyes, to have one fair gaze

at his face. He had to support himself by one hand rested on the

dresser, but she saw he was looking far better--younger, less

haggard--than he had seemed to her before. His face was short and

expressive; his complexion had been weatherbeaten and bronzed,

though now he looked so pale; his eyes and hair were dark,--the

former quick, deep-set, and penetrating; the latter curly, and

almost in ringlets. His teeth gleamed white as he smiled at her, a

pleasant friendly smile of recognition; but she only blushed the

deeper, and hung her head.