Beryl's Triumph by Eglanton Thorne

THE children's escape appeared well-nigh miraculous, and when the news of it spread through Egloshayle, numbers of the villagers flocked down to the beach to inspect the subterranean passage, of which scarce any one had been aware. Some of the oldest inhabitants, however, could tell, now that their memories were thus jogged, how in bygone days they had heard it said that there were two entrances to the long cave. They remembered that the place had for a long time borne the name of the Smugglers' Cave, because it was the lurking-place of a desperate band of men, who cunningly enriched themselves by a contraband trade.

An old man could tell how on one occasion, when the coastguardsmen had surrounded the cave, convinced that they had the smugglers in their power, they had, after long waiting, discovered that the culprits had given them the slip, and escaped from the cave, in spite of their constant watch at its entrance. Their mysterious flight had been a subject of marvel at the time; now it seemed plain that the hidden passage, discovered by the children, furnished the key to the mystery. It was strange that the existence of the tunnel in the rock should have been so long unknown, but doubtless the smugglers had done their best to keep it secret.

None save a few children could remember having noticed the hole at the back of the cave, and with them, it was evidently a recent discovery, so that it seemed probable that the place had only been disclosed of late. Mr. Hollys judged it likely that the rough seas and gales of March had swept away some barrier of rock or seaweed which had guarded the opening.

It was some days ere the children recovered from the effects of their strange adventure. Beryl was the first to shake off its ill consequences, but little Coral was poorly for more than a week. In her rough climbing, she had bruised her ankle, and the injury, which had seemed nothing at the time, now proved so troublesome as to oblige her to lie with bandaged limb on a couch in the nursery; whilst Lucy, full of remorse for the neglect from which had ensued such disastrous consequences, waited upon her and petted her with astonishing devotion.

Whilst Coral was thus laid aside, Beryl was her father's constant companion. Mr. Hollys prolonged his stay at home, for how could he bear to leave at once the child who had been given back to him from the arms of Death! Though it was the height of the London season, and he had many engagements in town, he sent excuses to his friends, and lingered at Egloshayle till he saw Beryl looking strong and bright again, and knew that the horror of her narrow escape from drowning had faded from her childish mind.

Those were joyous days for Beryl. Her father could not make enough of her, in his thankfulness for her restoration, and from morning till night his one aim seemed to be to give her pleasure. So anxious was he to spare Beryl any annoyance, that he made no mention of the governess who would shortly arrive at Egloshayle. It would be time enough to name that with other inevitable, though perhaps vexatious, truths, when he was about to leave home again. If Beryl fretted over them then, as was not improbable, he would at least be spared the pain of seeing his darling's tears.

One of these sweet June days was Beryl's birthday, and it was the first birthday, as far as she could remember, on which she had had her father's company. The anniversary of Beryl's birth had never been celebrated with the joyous festivities that form a bright spot in most of our memories of childhood. The day was one of gloom for her father, recalling as it did the darkest shadow that had fallen on his life. He had never cared to spend it at Egloshayle, and, now that it found him there so unexpectedly, he felt little disposed to plan a picnic or any such treat as Beryl hinted would be an agreeable way of marking the occasion.

So he promised the child that they would "keep" her birthday when he came home again in the autumn, and told her meanwhile to take counsel with Coral, and try to decide what would be the most delightful way of spending the day.

Beryl was perfectly satisfied with this promise. Her real birthday passed very quietly. The June roses were blooming in the garden, as on that day long ago when Guy Hollys had gathered them to place in the cold hands of his young wife. The sunshine was glorious, as it had been on that morn when its brilliance had struck so cruelly on the heart whose very light of life seemed gone. But now the healing hand of Time had done its work. That sorrow was but a memory. The wailing babe, whose presence had been held unwelcome on that day, had grown into the fine, fair girl whose beauty and grace gladdened her father's eyes. As Mr. Hollys' gaze rested on his child, he felt how great was his consolation, and his heart was not untouched by thankfulness to the Giver of all good, who had mercifully spared to him this precious gift.

Beryl made a wreath of the white roses, and went with her father to place it upon her mother's grave. She laid some flowers, too, upon the mound beneath which Coral's parents slept. The churchyard was no gloomy place to Beryl, but a familiar and loved spot, which she often visited.

"Papa," she surprised him by saying, when they had stood for some minutes beside her mother's grave, and her eyes were thoughtfully bent on the turf on which the roses made a spot of whiteness, "Papa, if we had been drowned the other day, Coral and I, where would you have buried us, do you think?"

"Oh, my dear! How can I tell? " he answered hastily. "What a question to ask!"

"Would you have put me here by mamma's side, and Coral over there with her mother? " asked Beryl, indicating with her foot the place where she supposed her body would have lain.

"Perhaps; but do not let us speak of it, darling."

But the subject was of interest to Beryl.

"If it had been so, papa," she asked curiously, "would you have come sometimes to put flowers on my grave?"