The Lost Heir

When they were below they heard a rattle of the chain, and, on going up, found that the barge had come to anchor in the midst of some thirty or forty others. The foresail had been run down and the jib lowered, but the great mainsail, with its huge, brightly painted sprit, was still standing. Roberts now opened a hamper that had been left on deck, and produced luncheon. Cold meat and beer were handed to the two watermen, who went up into the bow to eat it. An hour later the tide began to slacken, and many of the barges got up sail.

"Shall we get up the anchor, ma'am?" one of the watermen asked.

"There's plenty of time, is there not?" Hilda asked.

"Yes, ma'am, but we thought that you would like to see how she goes with the others."

"Yes, I should like that," Hilda said, and in a few minutes the barge was under sail again.

"She is a clipper, and no mistake," the man at the tiller said, as one by one they passed the barges that had started ahead of them, and Walter clapped his hands in delight.

"We may as well go down to the lower end of the Hope, miss. We shall have plenty of time to get back again before there is water enough for us in the creek."

For three hours they sailed about, the girls enjoying it as much as Walter.

"I do think, Netta, that I shall have to buy a barge on my own account. It is splendid, and, after all, the cabins are large enough for anything."

"You had better have a yacht," Netta laughed. "You would soon get tired of always going up and down the river."

"One might do worse," Hilda said. "Of course, now we shall give up that big house in Hyde Park Gardens, which is ridiculous for me and the boy. We have each got a country house, and when we want a thorough change I would infinitely rather have a yacht than a small house in town. I don't suppose that it would cost very much more. Besides, you know, it is arranged that I am always to have rooms at your house at the institute. That is to be the next thing seen after; you know that is quite agreed upon."

"I shall be glad to be at work again," Netta said. "Now that Walter is found, there is certainly nothing to keep us any longer in town."

"I know that it must have been horribly dull for you, Netta, but you see that you are partly to blame yourself for refusing to go out with me."

"That would have been duller still," Netta laughed. "I should have been a long time before I got to know people, and there is no good in knowing people when you are going right away from them in a short time, and may never meet them again."

At last the men said that there would be water enough to get up the creek.

"We shan't be able to sail up, miss; you see, the wind will be right in our teeth. But that don't matter; we can pole her up. The tide will take us along, and we shall only have to keep her straight and get her round the corners."

"Are you sure that there will be water enough?"

"Yes, miss. You see, she is empty, and doesn't draw much more than a foot of water."

As they entered the haven the head sails were dropped and the mainsail brailed up. The tide was running in strong, and, as the men had said, they had nothing to do but to keep the barge in the deepest part of the channel.

"How do you think they will be coming, Bill?" Betsy Nibson said, as she joined her husband, who was standing on the bank dressed in his Sunday clothes.

"I cannot say, Betsy; if I had known I should have gone to meet them. They cannot drive here from Pitsea, but must walk; and, of course, I would have been there if I had been sure of their coming that way. But I should think most likely that they will drive to the haven and come up by boat."

"There is a new barge coming up the creek," Joshua said. "You can see that she is new by her spars and sails."

"That's so, boy," Bill agreed. "She has got a flag I haven't seen before at her masthead. It is white, and I think there are some red letters on it – her name, I suppose. 'Tis not often that a new barge comes up to Pitsea. She is a fine-looking craft," he went on, as a turning in the creek brought her wholly into view. "A first-class barge, I should say. Yes, there is no doubt about her being new. I should say, from the look of her spars, she cannot have made many trips up and down the river."

"She has got a party on board," Mrs. Nibson said presently. "There are two women and a child. Perhaps it's them, Bill. They may have some friend in the barge line, and he has offered to bring them down, seeing that this is a difficult place to get at."

"I believe you are right, Betsy. They are too far off to see their faces, but they are certainly not barge people."

"They are waving their handkerchiefs!" Betsy exclaimed; "it is them, sure enough. Well, we have wondered how they would come down, but we never thought of a barge."

The three hurried along the bank to meet the barge. Walter danced and waved his hat and shouted loudly to them as they approached.

"You did not expect to see us arrive in a barge, Mrs. Nibson," Hilda called out as they came abreast of them.

"No, indeed, miss; we talked it over together as to how you would come, but we never thought of a barge."

"It belongs to a friend of ours, and we thought that it would be a pleasant way of coming. She is a new boat. You must come on board and have a look at her before we land."

In a few minutes the barge was alongside the bank, opposite the house. A plank was run across and Walter scampered over it to his friends.

"Bless his little face!" Mrs. Nibson said, as she lifted him up to kiss her. "What a darling he looks, Bill! And he has not forgotten us a bit."

"He could not well forget in a week," Bill said, rather gruffly, for he, too, was moved by the warmth of the child's welcome. "Well, let us go on board and pay our respects. She is a fine barge, surely; and she has got the same name as the child."

"Why, it is not 'Jack,'" his wife said, looking up.

"Jack!" her husband repeated scornfully. "Didn't they call him Walter the other day? Go on, wife; the lady is waiting at the end of the plank for you."

Mrs. Nibson put the child down and followed him across the plank, smoothing her apron as she went.

"My best respects, miss," she said, as Hilda shook hands with her warmly.

"We are glad to see you again, Mrs. Nibson, and hope that you have not missed Walter very much."

"I cannot say that I have not missed him a good deal, miss, but, luckily, we have had other things to think about. We are giving up the farm; it is lonesome here in the winter, and I am going to take to barge life again."

"Well, what do you think of this barge, Mr. Nibson?" Hilda asked.

"I allow she is a handsome craft, and she ought to be fast."

"She is fast. We have been sailing about until there was enough water in the creek, and we have passed every barge that we have come near. She is comfortable, too. Come below and look at her cabin."

"Well, I never!" Mrs. Nibson said, pausing in astonishment at the foot of the ladder. "I have been in many barge cabins, but never saw one like this." Her surprise increased when the door of the bulkhead was opened and she saw the sleeping cabin beyond. "Did you ever, Bill?"

"No, I never saw two cabins in a barge before," her husband said. "I suppose, miss, the owner must have had the cabin specially done up for his own use sometimes, and the crew lived forward."

"There is a place forward for the second hand," she replied, "and I suppose the owner will sleep here."

"Of course it is a loss of space, but she will carry a big load, too. Who is the owner, miss, if I may make so bold as to ask?"

"The registered owner is William Nibson," Hilda said quietly.

The bargeman and his wife gazed at each other in astonishment.

"But," he said hesitatingly, "I have never heard of any owner of that name."

"Except yourself, Nibson."