THE RIVAL CRUSOES;

OR, THE SHIPWRECK.

ALSO

A VOYAGE TO NORWAY;

AND THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE.

BY AGNES STRICKLAND,

AUTHOR OF THE "LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND," "TALES AND STORIES FROM HISTORY," ETC.

SIXTH EDITION.

LONDON:
GRANT AND GRIFFITH,

SUCCESSORS TO
J. HARRIS, CORNER OF ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD.

MDCCCLI.

LONDON:

STEVENS AND CO., PRINTERS, BELL YARD,

TEMPLE BAR.

CONTENTS

THE RIVAL CRUSOES;
ARTHUR RIDLEY;
THE FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE.

THE RIVAL CRUSOES;

OR, THE DESERT ISLAND.

"George! Harry!—lazy fellows that you are!—Why are you not in attendance?" said Lord Robert Summers in an angry tone, throwing the rein of his pony to his grooms, and rushing up the great staircase with his handkerchief held close to his face.

"What is the matter with our young lord to-day?" said Harry; "he seems in a marvellous ill mood."

"I suppose he has had another brush with Philip Harley to-day: did not you see the blood on his handkerchief?" said the other.

"That Philip is a saucy young rascal," replied Harry; "but he will get himself into a scrape before long. Lord Robert will be even with him, I will answer; for he never takes an offence without returning twenty-fold."

"They never meet now without a battle," returned the groom. "Lord Robert has been so used to domineer over men twice his age, on board ship, that he is more unbearable than any young man of rank I ever served. I wonder who is to put up with all his tempers? If his elder brother, my young lord, were half so hasty with his hands, or so flippant with his tongue, I would leave his service to-morrow: however, he wont be with us long—that's my comfort. It was but the other day I was airing the dogs, and trod, by accident, on his favourite Neptune's toe. The plaguy beast set up a yell. In an instant, I had a cuff of the head from the young tyrant, and was called a careless rascal and scoundrel, while he had breath to heap such epithets on me. I am glad the lad has given him a dressing, and wish it had been twice as much; it might have done him good."

With this wish, George led off the pony. The fact was, Lord Robert had caught Philip Harley trespassing, according to custom, in the Park, and had tried to horsewhip him out of the grounds, but had fairly got the worst of it. Lord Robert, though a stout and courageous youth, was pulled off his horse by the desperate young rustic, and in the fray received several contusions on the face. Philip did not part without some tokens of his enemy's vengeance; but he certainly remained victor in the contest. Lord Robert was glad to regain his pony and make a hasty retreat, much mortified, and in a very evil temper.

When he had reached his apartment, he washed the blood from his face, and composed the swelling of his haughty spirit; and after smoothing his ruffled plumes, he descended into the dining-room and joined the family party. His mother made some inquiry respecting the bruises on his face; but he turned it off with an evasive answer, as the effect of a fall he had met with in the Park. No farther notice was taken, except a slight sarcasm on the proverbial bad horsemanship of sailors.

At the dessert, the Marquis, his father, handed him a letter. "It is from your uncle, Sir Henry. See, Robert, what a charming surprise he has prepared for you! He spoils you, boy! I think you would not be so petulant and imperious, if every wish of that wayward heart were not gratified by his fond affection."

Lord Robert was so eager to read the letter from his beloved uncle, that he scarcely heard this reproof, which, gentle as it was, at any other time would have clouded his handsome brow with frowns.

Captain Sir Henry Stanley wrote to his brother-in-law, that he should sail in the Diomede, from Portsmouth, in less than a month; when he should expect his noble boy, his brave Robert, again to accompany him to victory. "I think it long till we are afloat," continued he; "and so, I dare say, does my dear nephew. However, that the time may not appear so very tedious, I have sent him a little pleasure-brig, the most complete that could be procured: he can sail and manœuvre it on your lake; not that I approve of freshwater sailing, but it is better than dancing after horses and dogs, and such landsmen's amusements."

Lord Robert then heard that this fairy frigate had been safely landed that day at a sea-port town, some little distance from his father's domains. A waggon and team of horses had been despatched to bring it home; and a servant soon afterwards entered to say that it had arrived, and was carefully placed by the side of the lake, ready for launching, which ceremony Lord Robert, full of impatient joy, sprang off to superintend.

It sometimes happens that time and tide will not wait obsequiously even on the children of prosperity. These stubborn powers will sometimes fret and chafe the proud and great, and, frequently, are so unpolite as to ruffle a rose-leaf on their couch of pleasure; but, as if the young lord had suffered mortification enough in the morning, his cup of delight was full in the evening. The pleasure was scarcely promised before it was realized. The gay glittering frigate dashed bravely into the lake: she bounded and danced on the waves, with as much spirit as the youthful noble could wish. The bottle of claret was flung with great effect; and she received her name amidst the applauses of the peasantry of the neighbouring village, who, as a great favour, were permitted to behold this sight at an awful distance.

Lord Robert sank to rest that night, anticipating the charming sail he should take in the morning.

The eyes of the young lord were open before sunrise; but whilst his valet was hastily dressing him, what was his indignation, on casting his eyes towards the lake, to see his fairy frigate, his beautiful Ariel, spreading her white sails to the breeze, and gliding on the lake as gallantly as if her noble master were commanding her? Who could be the person that had dared to unmoor her? Down flew Lord Robert, half undressed; and the servants were summoned; but none of the household had been guilty of such a piece of audacity. At last, a thought struck him, that it could be no other than that contemner of all legal authority, Philip Harley. Lord Robert was soon by the border of the lake; and there he saw his young enemy reclined in the gilded pleasure-boat, sailing at his ease, and coasting near enough for Lord Robert to behold the look of calm defiance with which he surveyed his anger: and he continued to manage the Ariel with as much coolness as if her lawful owner had not been viewing her manœuvres with the greatest indignation. Lord Robert was still more provoked, when he recollected that he had no means of reaching the offender, to expel him from the boat.

"Is there anything like a boat on the estate," exclaimed Lord Robert, "that I may pursue that insolent young Harley, and take my property from him?"

"No, my Lord," said Edwards, the old gardener; "there is nothing of the kind on any of the pieces of water within a mile or