“That fort,” said the old gentleman, “was built in the time of Henry VIII., to protect the entrance to Southampton water; and it is still used as a garrison, though the force it contains is but small. We are now in the Solent Sea, which divides the mainland from the Isle of Wight; and there,” he continued, “is the Island itself.”
They all turned to look; and Agnes was very much astonished to find it so near.
“How do you like the Isle of Wight?” asked her mamma.
“It looks a pretty mountainous country,” said Agnes; “and more like Scotland than any thing I have before seen in England.”
“You will find it very different,” said the old gentleman, turning to Agnes, “when you see it nearer.”
“Every thing is on a much smaller scale,” said Mrs. Merton; “but there is certainly some resemblance.”
At this moment the steam-boat stopped, and the passengers were desired to walk on shore at West Cowes. Agnes was deeply interested in watching the porters, who seized the luggage, and were carrying it off without asking where it was to go to; while several sailors surrounded the steam-boat, crying out, “Want a boat, want a boat, sir,—East Cowes, sir.” As Mr. Merton was very much fatigued with his journey, Mrs. Merton’s attention was entirely devoted to him; and, telling the porter to take their luggage to the Fountain Hotel, she gave her arm to her husband, to assist him to leave the vessel. Agnes was preparing to follow them, when, to her great dismay, she saw a man seize her own dear black leather portmanteau, and toss it into a boat going to East Cowes. She positively screamed; and, running to the edge of the vessel, she cried out, “Oh! do not take that! That is mine.”
“Yours,” cried a good-natured-looking sailor, who was standing in the boat taking in the luggage; “and are you not going with this party, then?”
“No,” said Agnes, trembling and panting for breath, “I am going to West Cowes,—to the Fountain. My papa and mamma are gone there.”
“Here,” cried the sailor; “I dare say the child is right;” calling to a young sailor who stood on the deck of the steam-packet; “Take this portmanteau, and go with that little girl to the Fountain.” At this moment the mate of the steam-packet came down to see what was the matter; and, having heard Agnes’s story, he asked what name was on the portmanteau; and, finding all was right, he told the boy to take it to the Fountain: Agnes following him, in a state of great agitation, but very much pleased at having saved her property. They had scarcely stepped on shore, when they met Mrs. Merton, who, having seen her husband comfortably placed on a sofa, had become uneasy at Agnes’s not following them, and had returned to the pier in search of her. When Mrs. Merton saw her little girl pale and trembling, she was very much alarmed; but, when she heard the story, she praised Agnes for the courage she had displayed, instead of scolding her, as she had been about to do, for her delay. Agnes was, however, too much agitated to feel her usual pleasure at her mother’s praises. It was the first time she had ever acted for herself in her life; and, though she had done right, she felt the bad effect of the over excitement. Mrs. Merton now offered sixpence to the boy who had carried Agnes’s portmanteau on shore, but he refused it. “Oh! no,” said he; “the young lady is quite welcome;” and, declaring that his father would be very angry with him if he took anything, he hurried into the Fountain: and putting down his burthen in the hall, he ran off, without allowing Mrs. Merton to say another word. As the pier at West Cowes is, indeed, the yard of the Fountain Inn, Mrs. Merton and Agnes had not far to go; but, as Mr. Merton had wished to take some repose after his fatigue, Mrs. Merton satisfied herself with ordering dinner at the bar, and walked out into the little narrow streets of Cowes with her daughter.