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diff --git a/12681-0.txt b/12681-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..66a9ae7 --- /dev/null +++ b/12681-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2679 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12681 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 12681-h.htm or 12681-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/8/12681/12681-h/12681-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/8/12681/12681-h.zip) + + + + + +US and THE BOTTLE MAN + +BY + +EDITH BALLINGER PRICE + +Author of "SILVER SHOAL LIGHT," +"BLUE MAGIC," etc. + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR + +1920 + + + + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +Greg rigged himself up as an Excavator +We hoped the Bottle Man would like the letter +"Hang on, Chris!" Jerry said. "I can get it" +"Ye be Three Poore Mariners" + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +It began with Jerry's finishing off all the olives that were left, +"like a pig would do," as Greg said. His finishing the olives left +us the bottle, of course, and there is only one natural thing to do +with an empty olive-bottle when you're on a water picnic. That is, +to write a message as though you were a shipwrecked mariner, and +seal it up in the bottle and chuck it as far out as ever you can. + +We'd all gone over to Wecanicut on the ferry,--Mother and Aunt Ailsa +and Jerry and Greg and I,--and we were picnicking beside the big +fallen-over slab that looks just like the entrance to a pirate cave. +We had a fire, of course, and a lot of things to eat, including the +olives, which were a fancy addition bought by Aunt Ailsa as we were +running for the ferry. + +When we asked her if she had any paper, she tore a perfectly nice +leaf out of her sketch-book, and gave me her 3 B drawing-pencil to +write with. It was very soft, and the paper was the roughish kind +that comes in sketch-books, so that the writing was smeary and +looked quite as if shipwrecked mariners had written it with charred +twigs out of the fire. We'd done lots of messages when we were on +other water picnics, but we'd never heard from any of them, although +one reason for that was that we never put our address on them. We +decided we would this time, because Jerry had just been reading +about a fisherman in Newfoundland picking up a message that somebody +had chucked from a yacht in the Gulf of Mexico months and months +before. + +I wrote the date at the top, near the raggedy place where the leaf +was torn out of Aunt Ailsa's sketch-book, and then I put, "We be +Three Poore Mariners," like the song in "Pan-Pipes." + +Jerry and Greg kept telling me things to write, till the page was +quite full and went something like this: + + "We be Three Poore Mariners, cast away upon the lone and + desolate shore of Wecanicut, an island in the Atlantic Ocean, + lat. and long. unknown. Our position is very perilous, as we + have exhausted all our supplies, including large stores of + olives, and are now forced to exist on beach-peas, barnacles, + and--and--" + +"Eiligugs' eggs," said Greg, dreamily. + +Jerry pounced on him and said they only grew on the Irish coast, but +I said: "All right! Beach-peas, barnacles, and eiligugs' eggs, of +which only a small supply is to be had on this bleak and dismal +coast. Our ship, the good ferry-boat _Wecanicut_, left us marooned, +and there is no hope of our being picked up for the next two hours. +Any person finding this message, please come to our assistance by +dropping us a line," (I must honestly say that this was Jerry's, and +much better than usual) "as the surf is too heavy for boats to land +on this end of the island. Signed:--" + +"Don't sign it 'Christine'," Jerry said. "Put 'Chris,' if we're to +be real mariners." + +So I put "Chris Holford, aet. 13," which I thought might look more +dignified and scholarly than "aged," and Jerry wrote "Gerald M. +Holford," and put "aet. 11" after it, but I'm sure he didn't know +what it meant until I did it. Then we stuck the paper at Greg, and +he stared at it ever so long and finally said: + +"Ate eleven! He ate lots more than that; I saw him." + +Jerry pounced again,--I was laughing too hard to,--and said: + +"It's not olives, silly; it's an abbreviated French way of saying +how old we are." + +Then I had to pounce on _him_, and tell him it was Latin, as he +might know by the diphthong. By that time Greg had written "Gregory +Holford, Ate 8," across the bottom, very large, and Jerry said he +might as well have put 88 and had done with it. We folded the paper +up in the tinfoil that the chocolate came in and jammed it into the +bottle and pounded the cork in tight with a stone. Greg was all for +chucking it immediately, but Jerry said it would have a better +chance if we dropped it right into the current from the ferry going +home. So we cocked the bottle up on a rock and went back to the +pirate-cave-entrance place to finish a game of smugglers. + +Wecanicut is a nice place to smuggle and do other dark deeds in, and +I don't believe we'll ever be too old to think it's fun. This time +we cut the rest of the tinfoil into roundish pieces with Jerry's +jackknife, and stowed them into a cranny in the cave. They shone +rather faintly and looked exactly like double moidores, except that +those are gold, I think. We also borrowed Aunt Ailsa's hatpin with +the Persian coin on the end. By running the pin down into the sand +all the way, you can make it look just like a goldpiece lying on the +floor of the cave. She is a very obliging aunt and doesn't mind our +doing this sort of thing,--in fact, she plays lots of the games, +too, and she can groan more hollowly than any of us, when groans are +needed. + +This time we didn't ask her to, because she was reading a book by +H.G. Wells to Mother, and anyway all our proceedings were supposed +to be going on in the most Stealthy and Silent Secrecy. The moidores +and the Persian coin were all that was left of an enormous lot of +things which the villainous band had buried,--golden chains, and +uncut jewels, and pots of louis d'ors, and church chalices (Jerry +says chasubles, but I think not). Greg and Jerry had dragged all +these things up from the edge of the water in big empty armfuls, and +we stamped the sand down over them. It really looked exactly as if +the tinfoil moidores were a handful that was left over. Greg was +just giving the final stamp, when Jerry crooked his hand over his +ear and said: + +"Hist, men! What was that?" They were having artillery practice down +at the Fort, and just then a terrific volley went sputtering off. + +"'Tis a broadside from the English vessel!" Jerry said. "We are +pursued!" + +We crept out from the cave and made off up the shore as fast as +possible. Jerry went ahead and jumped up on a rock to reconnoiter. +He did look quite piratical, with my black sailor tie bound tight +over his head and two buttons of his shirt undone. Greg had his own +necktie wrapped around his head, but several locks of hair had +escaped from under it. He always manages to have something not quite +right about his costumes. He has very nice hair--curly, and quite +amberish colored--but it's not at all like a pirate's. I poked him +from behind to make him hurry, for Jerry was pointing at a big +schooner that was coming down the harbor. We all lay down flat +behind the rock until she had gone slowly around the point. We could +see the sun winking on something that might have been a cannon in +her waist--that's the place where cannon always are--and of course +the captain must have been keeping a sharp lookout landward with his +spy-glass. + +"Eh, mon," said Jerry, when the schooner had passed, "but yon was a +verra close thing!" + +That's one of the worst things about Jerry,--the way he mixes up +language. We'd been reading "Kidnapped," and I suppose he forgot he +wasn't _Alan_. + +"Silence, dog!" I said, to remind him of who we were. "Very like +she's but hove to in the offing, and for aught you know she's maybe +sending ashore the jolly-boat by now." + +"Then let's go to the end of the point and have a look," Greg +suggested. + +He doesn't often make speeches, because Jerry is apt to pounce on +him and tell him he's "too plain American," but I think it isn't +fair, because he hasn't read as many books as Jerry and I. So I +hurried up and said: + +"Bravely spoke, my lad; so we will, my hearty!" And we crawled and +clambered along till we came to the end of the point where it's all +stones and seaweed and big surf sometimes. The surf was not very +high this time,--just waves that went _whoosh_ and then pulled the +pebbles back with a nice scrawpy sound. The schooner was half-way +down to the Headland, not paying any attention to us. + +"Ah ha!" Jerry said, "safe once more from an ignominious death. But, +Chris, look at the Sea Monster! What's happened to it?" + +The Sea Monster is a bare black rock-island off the end of +Wecanicut. We called it that because it looks like one, and it +hasn't any other name that we know of. We'd always wanted awfully to +go out there and explore it, but the only time we ever asked old +Captain Moss, who has boats for hire, he said, "Thunderin' bad +landin'. Nothin' to see there but a clutter o' gulls' nests," and +went on painting the _Jolly Nancy_, which is his nicest boat. + +But the thing that Jerry was pointing out now was very queer indeed. +It was just a little too far away to see clearly what had happened, +but it seemed as if a piece of rock had fallen away on the side +toward us, leaving a jaggedy opening as black as a hat and high +enough for a person to stand upright in. + +"The entrance to a subaground tunnel!" Greg shouted, leaping up and +down in the edge of a wave. + +He _will_ say "subaground," and it really is quite as sensible as +some words. + +"The entrance to a real pirate cave, you mean!" said Jerry. "Glory, +Chris, I really shouldn't wonder if it were. Captain Kidd was up and +down the coast here. What if they buried stuff in there and then +propped a big chunk of rock up against the hole?" + +"I wish we had a telescope," I said, "though I don't suppose we +could see into the blackness with it. Mercy, I wish we _could_ get +out there! It's more worth exploring than ever." + +"Let's tell Mother and Aunt!" said Greg, and started running back +down the beach, shouting something all the way. + +Mother said, "Nonsense!" and, "Of course it's a natural cave in the +rock. You probably only noticed it today." + +But she and Aunt Ailsa shut up the H.G. Wells book and came to +look. They did think, when they saw it, that it was something new. +Aunt Ailsa thought it looked very exciting and mysterious, but she +agreed with Mother that it was no sort of place to go to in a boat. + +"Just look at the white foam flinging around those rocks," she said; +"and there's practically no surf on today." + +We had to admit that it wasn't a nice-looking place to land on from +a rowboat, but we did wish that we were hardy adventuring men, bold +of heart and undeterred by grown-ups. We knew, too, that Captain +Moss would say, "Pshaw!" if we told him there might be treasure on +the Sea Monster, and he certainly wouldn't risk the _Jolly Nancy_ on +those rocks in her nice new green paint. + +We were so much excited about the Sea Monster suddenly having a big +black hole in it that we almost forgot to take the bottle when we +went home. We did forget Aunt Ailsa's hatpin, and Greg had to run +back for it, because he can run faster than any of the rest of us, +and Captain Lewis held the ferry for him. Everybody leaned out from +the rail and peered up the landing, because they thought it must be +a fire or the President or something. They all looked awfully +disappointed when it was only Greg, with the black necktie still +around his head and Aunt's hatpin held very far away from him so +that it wouldn't hurt him if he fell down. He tumbled on board just +as the nice brown Portuguese man who works the rattley chain thing +at the landings was pushing the collapsible gate shut, and Greg +gasped: + +"I brought--the moidores--too!" + +But Jerry collared him and pulled the necktie off his head. Jerry +hates to have his relatives look silly in public, but I thought Greg +looked very nice. + +We chucked the bottle overboard from the upper deck, just when the +_Wecanicut_ was halfway over. The nice Portuguese man shouted up, +"Hey! You drop something?" but we told him it was just an old bottle +we didn't want, and not to mind. We watched it go bob-bobbing along +beside an old barrel-head that was floating by, and we wondered how +far it would go, and if it would leak and sink. The tide was exactly +right to carry it outside, if all went well. + +"Perhaps," said Greg, when we were halfway up Luke Street, going +home, and had almost forgotten the bottle, "perhaps it will land on +the Sea Monster, and the pirates will find it." + +"Glory!" said Jerry, "perhaps it will." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Just in the middle of the rainiest week came the thing that made +Aunt Ailsa so sad. She read it in the newspaper, in the casualty +list. It was the last summer of the war, and there were great long +casualty lists every day. This said that Somebody-or-other Westland +was "wounded and missing." We didn't know why it made her so sad, +because we'd never heard of such a person, but of course it was up +to us to cheer her up as much as possible. Picnics being out of the +question, it had to be indoor cheering, which is harder. Greg +succeeded better than the rest of us, I think. He is still little +enough to sit on people's laps (though his legs spill over, +quantities). He sat on Aunt Ailsa's lap and told her long stories +which she seemed to like much better than the H.G. Wells books. He +also dragged her off to join in attic games, and she liked those, +too, and laughed sometimes quite like herself. + +Attic games aren't so bad, though summer's not the proper time for +them, really. There is a long cornery sort of closet full of carpets +that runs back under the eaves in our attic, and if you strew +handfuls of beads and tin washers among the carpets and then dig for +them in the dark with a hockey-stick and a pocket flash-light, it's +not poor fun. Unfortunately, my head knocks against the highest part +of the roof now, yet I still do think it's fun. But Aunt Ailsa is +twenty-six and she likes it, so I suppose I needn't give up. + +The day Aunt Ailsa really laughed was when Greg rigged himself up as +an Excavator. That is, he said he was an excavator, but I never saw +anything before that looked at all like him. He had the round Indian +basket from Mother's work-table on his head, and some automobile +goggles, and yards and yards of green braid wound over his jumper, +and Mother's carriage-boots, which came just below the tops of his +socks. In his hand he had what I think was a rake-handle--it was +much taller than he--and he had the queerest, glassy, goggling +expression under the basket. + +He never will learn to fix proper clothes. He might have seen what +he should have done by looking at Jerry, who had an old felt hat +with a bit of candle-end (not lit) stuck in the ribbon, and a +bandana tied askew around his neck. But Aunt Ailsa laughed and +laughed, which was what we wanted her to do, so neither of us +remonstrated with Greg that time. + +Father plays the 'cello,--that is, he does when he has time,--and he +found time to play it with Aunt, who does piano. I think she really +liked that better than the attic games, and we did, too, in a way. +The living-room of our house is quite low-ceilinged, and part of it +is under the roof, so that you can hear the rain on it. The boys lay +on the floor, and Mother and I sat on the couch, and we listened to +the rain on the roof and the sound--something like rain--of the +piano, and Father's 'cello booming along with it. They played a +thing called "Air Religieux" that I think none of us will ever hear +again without thinking of the humming on the roof and the candles +all around the room and one big one on the piano beside Aunt Ailsa, +making her hair all shiny. Her hair is amberish, too, like Greg's, +but her eyes are a very golden kind of brown, while his are dark +blue. + +We thought she'd forgotten about being sad, but one night when I +couldn't sleep because it was so hot I heard her crying, and Mother +talking the way she does to us when something makes us unhappy. I +felt rather frightened, somehow, and wretched, and I covered up my +ears because I didn't think Aunt would want me to hear them talking +there. + +The next day the sun really came out and stayed out. All of _us_ +came out, too, and explored the garden. The grass had grown till it +stood up like hay, and there were such tall green weeds in the +flowerbeds that Mother couldn't believe they'd grown during the rain +and thought they were some phlox she'd overlooked. The phlox itself +was staggering with flowers, and all the lupin leaves held round +water-drops in the hollows of their five-fingered hands. Greg said +that they were fairy wash-basins. He also found a drowned +field-mouse and a sparrow. He was frightfully sorry about it, and +carried them around wrapped up in a warm flannel till Mother begged +him to give them a military funeral. Jerry soaked all the labels off +a cigar-box, and then burned a most beautiful inscription on the lid +with his pyrography outfit. Part of the inscription was a poem by +Greg, which went like this: + + "O little sparrow, + Perhaps to-morrow + You will fly in a blue house. + And perhaps you will run + In the sun, + Little field-mouse." + +Jerry didn't see what Greg meant by a "blue house," but I did, and I +think it was rather nice. I copied the poem secretly, before the +cigar-box was buried at the end of the rose-bed. I think Greg really +cried, but he had so much black mosquito netting hanging over the +brim of his best hat that I couldn't be sure. + +Fourth of July came and went--the very patriotic one, when everybody +saved their fireworks-money to buy W.S.S. with. We bought W.S.S. and +made very grand fireworks out of joss-sticks. Joss-sticks have +wonderful possibilities that most people don't know about. The three +of us went down to the foot of the garden after dark and did an +exhibition for the others. By whisking the joss-sticks around by +their floppy handles you can make all sorts of fiery circles. I made +two little ones for eyes, and Greg did a nose in the middle, and +Jerry twirled a curvy one underneath for a mouth that could be +either smiling or ferocious. A little way off you can't see the +people who do it at all, and it looks just like a great fiery face +with a changing, wobbly expression. + +Then Greg did a fire dance with two sparklers. He dances rather +well,--not real one-steps and waltzes, but weird things he makes up +himself. This one lasted as long as the sparklers burned, and it was +quite gorgeous. After that we had a candle-light procession around +the garden, and the grown people said that the candles looked very +mysterious bobbing in and out between the trees. We felt more like +high priests than patriots, but it was very festive and wonderful, +and when we ended by having cakes and lime-juice on the porch at +half-past nine, everybody agreed that it had been a real celebration +and quite different. + +In spite of being up so late the night before, Greg was the first +one down to breakfast next morning. Our postman always brings the +mail just before the end of breakfast, and we can hear him click the +gate as he comes in. This morning Jerry and Greg dashed for the mail +together, and Greg squeezed through where Jerry thought he couldn't +and got there first. When they came back, Jerry was saying: + +"Let me have it, won't you; it'll take you all day!" and dodging his +arm over Greg's shoulder. + +"Messrs. Christopher, Gerald, and Gregory Holford; 17 Luke Street," +Greg read slowly. Then he tripped over the threshold and floundered +on to me, flourishing the big envelope and shouting: + +"It's funny paper, and it's funny writing, and I _know_ it's from +The Bottle!" + +"My stars!" said Jerry, with a final snatch. + +But I had the envelope, and I looked at it very carefully. + +"Boys," I said, "I truly believe that it is." + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The envelope was a square, thinnish one, addressed in very small, +black handwriting. + +"It _must_ be from The Bottle," Jerry said; "otherwise they wouldn't +have thought you were a boy and put Christopher." + +I had been thinking just the same thing while I was trying to open +the envelope. It was one of the very tightly stuck kind that +scrumples up when you try to rip it with your finger, and we had to +slit it with a fruit-knife before we could get at the letter. There +were sheets of thin paper all covered with writing, and when Jerry +and Greg saw that, they both fell upon it so that none of us could +read it at all. I persuaded them that the quickest thing to do would +be to let me read it aloud, and as we'd finished breakfast anyway, +we each took our last piece of toast in our hands and went out and +sat on the bottom step of the porch. I read: + + + _Fellow Adventurers and Mariners in Distress:_ + + By this time there may be naught left of you but a whitening + huddle of bones, surf bleached on the end of Wecanicut,--for + I know well what meager fare are eiligugs' eggs and barnacles. + However, I take the chance of finding at least one of you + alive, and address you fraternally as a companion in distress. + + I am myself stranded on a cheerless island where, against my + will, I am kept captive--for how long a time I cannot guess. + I was brought here at night, only forty-eight hours ago, and + landed from a vessel which almost immediately departed whence + it had come, into the darkness. My captors left me to go with + the vessel, the chief of them threatening to return every week + to torment me unless I obeyed his slightest command. I stand in + great fear of this man, who is tall and bearded, for he brings + with him instruments of torture and bottles containing, without + doubt, poison. + + Can you imagine my joy when, tottering down the beach this + morning, supporting my frame upon two sticks, I beheld your bottle + cast up on the sands? Now, thought I, I can unburden myself to + these three unfortunate men, obviously in even greater distress + than my own, and we can, perhaps, ease each other's monotonous + maroonity. Scholars, too, I perceive you to be,--witness the + Latin following your signatures. Ah well, _Grata superveniet quae + non sperabitur hora_, as the poet so truly says, and I cannot + express to you how eager, how happy I am, in the thought of + communicating with some one other than the natives of this + desolate isle. These inhabitants, though friendly on the whole, + are uncouth and barbaric. They spend their entire time fishing + from boats which they build themselves, or squatting beside their + huts mending their fishing implements. + + The good soul with whom I am lodging is calling me to my scanty + repast. In the rude language of the place she tells me that there + is "Krabss al ad an dunny." How can I live long, I ask, on such + fare? + + Hopefully, your + + CASTAWAY COMRADE. + + P.S. My address--mail reaches me from time to time, by aforesaid + vessel--is P.O. Box 14, Blue Harbor, Me. ME stands for Mid + Equator, but the abbreviation is sufficient. Blue Harbor is my own + literal translation of the native Bluar Boor. Box 14 refers to the + native system of delivering messages. P.O. has, I think, something + to do with the P. & O. steamers, which, however, do not very often + touch here. + + + +"I _told_ you it would go around the world!" Greg said, when I had +finished, and Jerry and I were staring at each other. + +"_Well!_" Jerry said at last. "_What_ luck!" + +"I should rather say so," I said; "suppose a fisherman had found it, +or no one at all." + +"Bless his old heart," said Jerry, taking the letter. + +I wanted to know why "old." + +"He must be ancient if he has to totter along on two sticks," Jerry +said. "Besides, he has a stately, professorish sort of style. Do you +suppose he really does want us to write to him?" + +"Of course he does," Greg said; "he tells us to often enough. Think +of being alone out there with savages, and that bearded chief coming +with poison bottles and all." + +"Shut up, Greg," said Jerry; "you don't understand. There's more in +this than meets the eye, Chris. I didn't get on to this crab salad +business when you read it." + +Neither had I; in fact, I hadn't got on to it until Jerry said it in +proper English. + +"He's a good sort, poor old dear," I said. "Why do you suppose they +keep him out there?" + +"He's there of his own free will, right enough," Jerry said. + +But I didn't think so. + +We were still confabbing over the letter, and explaining bits to +Greg, who was hopelessly mystified, when Mother came out to +transplant some columbine that had wandered into the lawn. We did a +quick secret consultation and then decided to let her in on the +Castaway. So we bolted after her and took away the trowel and showed +her the letter. She read it through twice, and then said: + +"Oh, Ailsa must hear this, and Father!" But what we wanted to know +was whether or not we might write to the Castaway, because we didn't +quite want to without letting her know about it. She laughed some +more and said, "yes, we might," and that he was "a dear," which was +what we thought. + +We decided that we would write immediately, so Jerry dashed off to +Father's study and got two sheets of nice thin paper with "17 Luke +Street" at the top in humpy green letters, and I borrowed Aunt +Ailsa's fountain-pen, which turned out to be empty. I might have +known it, for they always are empty when you need them most. Jerry, +like a goose, filled it over the clean paper we were going to use +for the letter, and it slobbered blue ink all over the top sheet. +But the under one wasn't hurt, and we thought one page full would be +all we could write, anyway. We took the things out to the porch +table, and Greg held down the corner of the paper so it wouldn't +flap while I wrote. Jerry sat on the arm of my chair and thought so +excitedly that it jiggled me. + +But minutes went on, and the fountain pen began to ooze from being +too full, and none of us could think of a single thing to say. + +"If we just write to him ourselves,--in our own form, I mean," Jerry +said, "it'll be stupid. And I don't feel maroonish here on the +porch. We'll have to wait till we go to Wecanicut again, and write +from there." + +I felt somehow the way Jerry did, so we put away the things again +and went out under the hemlock tree to talk about the Castaway. Greg +didn't come, and we supposed he'd gone to feed a tame toad he had +that year, or something. The toad lived under the syringa bush +beside the gate, and Greg insisted that it came out when he whistled +for it, but it never would perform when we went on purpose to watch +it, so I don't know whether it did or not. + +Under the hemlock is one of the best places in the garden for +councils and such. The branches quite touch the grass, and when you +creep under them you are in a dark, golden sort of tent, crackley +and sweet-smelling. You can slither pine-needles through your +fingers as you discuss, too, and it helps you to think. We thought +for quite a long time, and then I got out the letter and spread it +down in one of the wavy patches of sunlight, and we read it again. + +"Did you really think anybody'd find it?" Jerry asked suddenly, and +I told him I hadn't thought so. + +"Neither did I," he said; "let alone such a jolly old soul. Why, +he'd be better than Aunt on a picnic." + +"I do wonder why he has to stay there," I said. + +"Perhaps he's a fugitive from justice," Jerry suggested; "or perhaps +he's a prisoner and the bearded person comes out with Spanish +Inquisition things to make him confess his horrible crime." + +"He _sounds_ like a person who'd done a horrible crime, doesn't he!" +I said in scorn. + +"Well, then," said Jerry, who really has the most inspired ideas for +plots, "perhaps he's an innocent old man whose wicked nephews want +to frighten him into changing his will, leaving an enormous fortune +to them. And they're keeping him on the island till he'll do it." + +"Well, whatever it is," I said, "I don't think he's awfully happy +somehow, and it's nice of him to write such a gorgeous thing." + +So we both decided that whether he was staying on the island of his +own free will, or in bondage, in any case it must be frightfully +dull for him and that our letter ought to be interesting and +cheerful. + +Just then the hemlock branches thrashed apart and Greg crawled under +with pine-needles in his hair. He sat back on his heels and blinked +at us, because he'd just come out of the sunlight. + +"I thought _some_body ought to write to the Bottle Man," he said, +"so I did." + +"Well, I never!" Jerry said. + +Greg fished up a bent piece of paper from inside his jumper and +handed it to me. + +"You can see it," he said, "but not Jerry." + +"As if I'd want to!" Jerry said; but he did, fearfully. + +Greg is the most unexpected person I ever knew. He's always doing +things like that, when everyone else has given up. + +I spread his paper out on top of the other letter, and he sprawled +down beside me, all ready to explain with his finger. What with his +dreadfully bad writing and the sunlight moving off the paper all the +time as the branches swayed, it took me ever so long to read the +thing. This is what it was: + + + Dear Bottle Man: + + To-day we got your leter wich surprised us very much. + Although I kept hopeing and hopeing some body would find the + bottle. We are not so distresed now because we were picked up + and now have toast and other things beter than barnicles. I + mesured from here to the equater on the big map and it is an + aufuly far way for the bottle to go. Only I thought it would. + I am sorry you are so imprisined on the iland and please dont + let the cheif with the beard poisen you because we would like + to hear from you agan. If there is tresure on that iland I + should think you could look for it and it would be exiting. + But prehaps there is none. We hope there is some on Wecanicut. + But it is hard to know sirtainly. Chris and Jerry are going to + do a leter. But I thought I would first. I hope the saviges will + be frendly allways. + + Your respecfull comrade, + + GREGORY HOLFORD. + + P.S. None of us are Bones yet. + + +"Will it do?" Greg asked anxiously, when I folded it up. His eyes +grow very dark when he's anxious, and they were perfectly inky now. +You never would have guessed that they were really blue. + +"It'll do splendidly," I said, for I did think the Castaway man +would like Greg's letter tremendously. + +"Better let me see it, my lad," said Jerry, rolling over among the +pine-cones and sitting up. + +Greg got his precious letter with a snatch and a squeak, and +scurried off with it. I pitched Jerry back on to the pine-needles, +because I knew he'd never let the thing go if he saw it. + +"Oh, _let_ him send it," I said. "It's perfectly all right, and it +will do the Bottle Man heaps of good." + +But Jerry growled about "beastly scrawls" and wasn't pleased with me +until supper-time. + +Somehow we all began calling our island person the "Bottle Man" +after Greg did, for it seemed as good a name as any for him, seeing +that we didn't know his real one. We read the letter from him after +supper to Aunt Ailsa, and she laughed and liked it, and so did +Father. We also asked Father what the Latin meant, and he made a +funny face and said he'd forgotten such things, but then he looked +at it again and told us it meant something like this: + +"The happy hour shall come, all the more appreciated because it +comes unexpectedly." + +So we went to bed thinking about our poor old Bottle Man consoling +himself out there on his island with Latin quotations. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +We all went to Wecanicut next day, which was a glorious one, and +when the food had disappeared we three walked up the point and wrote +to the Bottle Man from there. We'd decided that the paper with "17 +Luke Street" on it was much too grand for "poore mariners" anyway, +so we'd just brought brownish paper that comes in a block. We told +the Bottle Man how wonderful we thought it was that he had found our +message, and how his letter had cheered our lonely watching for a +sail. Also, how we had been picked up and were returned now to +Wecanicut of our own will, seeking rich treasure. We described the +"Sea Monster" very carefully, and wrote about the black +cave-entrance-looking place that had happened, where no boat would +dare to venture. Jerry's description of it was quite wild. He +dictated it to me above the shrieking of a lot of gulls which were +flying over us all the time. It went like this: + + "The Sea Monster was quite terrific enough looking before, like + the slimy black head of something huge coming out of the water. + Now it looks as if it had opened a cavernous maw" (I'm sure he + nabbed that from some book) "as black as ink, ready to swallow + any unfortunate mariner which came near. Below the base of this + fearsome hole roars the cruel surf, ready to engulf a boat which + would never be seen more if it was once caught in this deadly eddy." + +I thought "deadly eddy" sounded like Illiteration, or something you +shouldn't do, in the Rhetoric Books, but Jerry was much excited over +his description. He sat on top of a rock, pointing out at the Sea +Monster like a prophet. He has quite black hair which blows around +wildly, and he looked very strange sitting up there raving about the +cavern. The letter was very long by the time we'd put in everything, +and we hoped the Bottle Man would like it. Just before we signed it, +I said: + +"Do you think we'd better tell him I'm really Christine and not +Christopher?" + +"_No_," Jerry said; "put Chris, the way you did before. He's writing +now as man to man. He might be disgusted if he knew it was just a +mere female." + +"Oh, _thank_ you," I said; but I did put "Chris," on account of our +all being fellow castaways. + +When we'd finished the letter we walked a long way down the other +shore toward the Fort. The wind was blowing right, and we could hear +bits of what the band was playing and now and then peppery sounds +from the rifle practice. It's not a very big fort, but it squats on +the other side of Wecanicut, watching the bay, and real cannon stick +out at loopholes in the wall. The ferry really only goes to +Wecanicut on account of the Fort, because there's nothing else there +but a few farm houses and some ugly summer cottages near the +ferry-slip. The point from which you see the Monster is not near the +Fort or the houses at all, and is much the wildest part of +Wecanicut. When you're standing on the very end you might think you +really were on a deserted island, because you can look straight out +to sea. + +We cut back cross-country through the bay-bushes and the dry, tickly +grass to our usual part of Wecanicut, where the grown-ups were just +beginning to collect the baskets and things and to look at their +watches. We posted the letter on the way home, and Greg jiggled the +flap of the letter-box twice to make sure that it wasn't stuck. + +It was that week that Jerry sprained his ankle jumping off the +porch-roof and had to sit in the big wicker chair with his foot on a +pillow for days. He hated it, but he didn't make any fuss at all, +which was decent of him considering that the weather was the best +we'd had all summer. We played chess, which he likes because he can +always beat me, and also "Pounce," which pulls your eyes out after a +little while and burns holes in your brain. It's that frightful card +game where you try to get rid of thirteen cards before any one else, +and snatch at aces in the middle, on top of everybody. Jerry is +horribly clever at it and shouts "Pounce!" first almost every time. +Greg always has at least twelve of his thirteen cards left and +explains to you very carefully how he had it all planned very far +ahead and would have won if Jerry hadn't said "Pounce" so soon. + +Also, Father let Jerry play the 'cello, and he made heavenly hideous +sounds which he said were exactly like what the Sea Monster's voice +would be if it had one. Just when we were all rather despairing, +because Dr. Topham said that Jerry mustn't walk for two days more, +the very thing happened which we'd been hoping for. Greg came up all +the porch steps at once with one bounce, brandishing a square +envelope and shouting: + +"The Bottle Man!" + +It was addressed to all of us, but I turned it over to Jerry to do +the honors with, on account of his being a poor invalid and Abused +by Fate. He had the envelope open in two shakes, with the +complicated knife he always carries, and pulled out any amount of +paper. He stared at the top page for a minute, and then said: + +"Here, Greg, this is for you. You can be pawing over it while we're +reading the proper one." + +But I said, "Not so fast," and "Let's hear it all, one at a time." + +So I took Greg's and read it aloud, because he takes such an +everlasting time over handwriting and this writing was rather queer +and hard to read. This is his letter: + + + _Respected Comrade Gregory Holford:_ + + I am writing to you separately because you wrote to me + separately, and very much I liked your letter. I cannot tell + you how much relieved I am to hear that toast has been + substituted for barnacles in your diet. In the long run, + toast is far better for a mariner, however hardy he may be. + + It is indeed a long way from Wecanicut to the Equator,--but + are you sure you measured to ME.--_Mid_ Equator? It is very + different, you know. The bearded one is pleased with me and + has not brought his poison bottles of late, but thank you for + not wanting me to die just now. I do not know of any treasure + in Bluar Boor, but I refer you to the enclosed letter which + tells something of treasure elsewhere. I hope your search on + Wecanicut, my dear sir, will be richly rewarded. + + Please note that I refer to _natives_, not _savages_. There + is a vasty difference; more than you perhaps might suppose. + + May I inscribe myself your most humble servant, + + THE BOTTLE MAN. + + P.S. I'm so glad your Bones are still where they belong. + + +Greg was counting elaborately on his fingers, and said: + +"I believe he answered _everything_ in my letter, but please let me +have it, because there are some things I need to work out myself." + +"Now for the business," Jerry said. "This must be the whole sad +story of his life,--there's pages of it. Coil yourself up +comfortably, Chris, and I'll fire away." + +So I coiled up beside Greg on the Gloucester hammock, and Jerry +began to read. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + + From my desolate island refuge I salute the Intrepid Trio! + Good sirs, what you tell me of the "Sea Monster" makes my + flesh creep and my hair stir with terror. A murderous bad + place I should call it, and not one to trifle with. Yet it + might well be, as you think, that the sudden-appearing cavern + is the mouth of a pirate cave fairly bursting with treasure, + and only now exposed to the eyes of such daring adventurers + as yourselves by a trick of the elements. Strange things + there be above and below the waters of the world--which + serves to remind me of a tale you might not scorn to hear. + You may take it or leave it, as you will, but at least the + penning of it will pass some of my hours of banishment in a + pleasant fashion. + + In the year of grace 18-- (I shudder to think how long ago) + I was a bold youth of perhaps the age of the valiant + Christopher. + + +Here Jerry paused to give a muffled hoot at me. I chucked a hammock +cushion at him, and he went on: + + + My father's house stood on a rambling street in an old + waterside town, and from the windows of my room I could see + the topmasts of sailing ships thrusting upward above gray + roofs. Small marvel that my head should be filled with the + ways of the sea and the wonder of it, or that I should spend + long hours dreaming over books that told of adventures + thereon. It was over such a book that I was poring one + summer's evening as I sat in the library bow-window. The + breeze from the harbor came in and stirred the curtains + beside my head, and brought with it the last westering ripple + of sunlight and a smell of climbing roses. The book had + dropped from my hand and I was well-nigh drowsing, when I + saw, as plain as day, the queerest figure possible clicking + open our garden gate. He looked to be some sort of South + American half-breed,--swart face under rough black hair, and + striped blanket gathered over dirty white trousers. Now I had + seen many a strange man disembark from ships, but, never such + a one as this, and when I saw that he was coming straight + toward my window, I was half tempted to make an escape. + + He leaned on the sill of the open casement with his dark face + just below mine and began to pour out, in halting English, a + tale which at first I had some trouble in understanding. The + most that I made of it was that he, and he alone, knew the + whereabouts of a city buried ages since under the sea and + filled with treasure of an unbelievable description. But you + may imagine that even the hint of such a thing was enough to + set me all athrill, and I was not greatly surprised at myself + when I found that I was following the queer, slinking figure + down our bare little New England street. + + He led me to a ship, an old brigantine heavy with age and + barnacles and hung about with the sorriest gray rags of + canvas that ever did duty for sails. No wonder that nine days + out we lost our fore tops'l. But stay; I fear I go too fast! + For you must know that I went aboard that brigantine, and + once aboard I could not go ashore again, partly because the + strange, ill-assorted crew detained me at every turn, and + partly because the longing was so strong upon me to see the + things I had read of so often. And that night found me still + upon the vessel, nosing down to the harbor light, with the + lamps of my father's house winking less and less brightly on + the dim shore astern. + + Well, sirs, it would weary you to tell much of that voyage, + and besides, many's the time you yourselves must have + weathered the Horn. For it was 'round Cape Stiff we went--no + Panama Canal in those days--and I served a bitter + apprenticeship on ice-coated yards, clutching numbly at + battering sails frozen stiff as iron. It was Peru we were + bound for,--Peru where the submarine city lay beneath + uncounted fathoms waiting for us. The captain and I were the + only ones Acuma, the half-breed, had taken into his + confidence; all the others sailed on a blind errand, trusting + to the skipper, who was a shrewd man and severe. And the + brigantine wallowed around the Cape and toiled on and on up + the coast, and every day Acuma grew more restless; every day + he cast about the water with eyes that seemed to pierce to + the very bottom of the Pacific. + + One day of blue sky and little breeze, when we were pushing + the brigantine with all sails set, Acuma flung himself at a + bound to the quarterdeck, and a moment later the skipper + shouted quick orders that the crew could not understand for + the life of them. For to heave the ship to, just when we all + had been whistling for enough breeze to give her something + more than steerage way, seemed nothing short of insane. Acuma + climbed to the maintop and looked at the coast of Peru with a + telescope, and the captain took bearings with his + instruments. + + It was Acuma and I who went over the side in diving suits, + for no others save the captain knew what we sought, as I have + said. Down I went and down, with the weight of water crushing + ever more strongly against me, till I stood upon the sea's + floor. That in itself was quite wonderful enough--the green + whiteness of the sand and the strange, multi-colored forest + of weed and coral through which my searchlight bored a + single, luminous pathway. But right ahead, looming and + wavering, seen for an instant, lost again when a deep + vibration stirred and swayed the water, shone the faintly + golden shape of a great portal. Acuma I had lost sight of, + but I had no need to ask him what lay before me. The wild + pounding of my heart told me that I stood at the gateway of + the city that had been covered a thousand thousand years ago + by the unheeding sea. Leaning at an angle against the tide, I + struggled forward till the great gate towered above me, its + arch half lost in the green, swimming shadow of the water. + But as I flashed my light up across its pillars, it answered + with the shifting sparkle of gems crusted thick upon it. + + I walked then, breathless, into a street paved with rough + silver ingots, each one surely weighing a quintal, between + tremulous shapes of buildings which pointed lustrous towers + upward through fathoms of green water. It was many minutes + before I dared enter one of those great silent halls. + Dragging my heavy leaden-soled boots, I pushed through a + shapely silver doorway, and a fish darted past me as I + entered. Who could imagine the wonder of that vast room! The + mosaic that covered the walls and ceilings was of gold and + jewels, not porphyry and serpentine, such as delight the + wondering visitor to Venice, but precious stones--rubies, + sapphires, emeralds, amethysts as richly purple as grape + clusters, topaz as clear and mellow as honey. + + Behind a traceried grillwork lay heaped a mound of treasures + such as no human eye will ever see again. I lifted a little + tree fashioned all of gold,--each leaf wrought of the + metal--and strung with jewelled fruits on which ruby-eyed + golden birds fed. In despairing rapture I clutched after a + neck ornament hung with pendulous pearls as large as plums. + But as I reached for it, I felt that something was looking at + me from the corner. Not Acuma; no human being was in sight. + Peering out through the glass visor of my helmet, I saw fixed + on me from low down beside the doorway two inky, moveless + eyes as large as saucers. They were not human eyes, nor did + they belong to any sea creature I had ever beheld or read of. + They were round and fixed, pools of bottomless blackness, + staring at me through two varas of clear, swaying water. I + took an uncertain step backwards, and as I did so I felt + something soft and heavy laid slowly and slimily upon my + shoulder.... + + Ah me, here is an interruption! A native child approaches, + bearing as an offering a Lol Ipop (one of the native fruits). + Just before he reaches me he falls face down, doubtless out + of respect for my gray hairs, and, on arising, proffers me + the Lol Ipop, now coated with sand. In this state I am + expected to eat it, and, being in great awe and fear of the + inhabitants, I proceed to do so, which incapacitates me for + further epistolatory effort. + + So, till I recover from the effects of my enforced meal, + believe me your devoted correspondent, + + THE BOTTLE MAN. + + +"Well, of all mean tricks!" Jerry said. + +"It's worse than a continued story," I said. "Bother the horrid +native child! Do you suppose that's really why he stopped?" + +"Probably not; he knew it was the excitingest place to stop. What +did I tell you about his being ancient? Now he _says_ he has gray +hairs, so that proves it." + +"I should think he might," I said, "after such experiences. What do +you think it could have been that stared at him?" + +"An octopus, most likely," Jerry said. "They have goggly black eyes; +I've read it." + +"But he said he'd never seen such eyes on any sea beast he knew of, +and he's read as much as you have; that's sure." + +"That treasure! Oh, my eye!" Jerry sighed. "Do you suppose he +brought home hunks of it?" + +"Just the same hunks that we dig up on Wecanicut, I suppose," I +said. + +"You mean you think he's making up the whole yarn?" Jerry asked. +"Well, even if he is, it's a mighty good one, and it might have +happened to him, at that." + +Greg looked up suddenly from beside me, and said: + +"_I_ think the thing what stared at him was a mer-person." + +"My child," said Jerry, "I believe you're right." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Next day Jerry was well enough to walk around with a cane, and when +he'd broken Father's second-best malacca stick by vaulting over the +box border with it, we decided that he was quite all right, and the +summer went on again as usual. Of course we wrote to the Bottle Man +at once, and told him, as respectfully as we could, just what we +thought of him for letting the native child interrupt him in such an +exciting part. We also begged him to write again as soon as +possible, and to choose a place where the inhabitants weren't likely +to come with offerings. We kept waiting and waiting, and no letter +came, so we settled ourselves to Grim Resignation, as Jerry said. It +was worse than waiting for the next number of a serial story, +because you're pretty certain when that will come, but we had no +idea how long it would be before the Bottle Man wrote to us. + +Aunt Ailsa still needed cheering up a good deal, and that kept us +busy. The cheering was great fun for us, because it consisted mostly +of picnics and long, long walks,--the kind where you take a stick +and a kit-bag and eat your lunch under a hedge, like a tinker. We +also wrote a story which we used to put in instalments under her +plate at breakfast every other day. We took turns writing the story, +and Greg's instalments always made Aunt Ailsa the most cheered up of +all. The story was much too long to put in here, and rather +ridiculous, besides. + +By this time it was almost September, and asters were beginning to +bloom in the garden and the hollyhocks were almost gone. Wecanicut +was turning the dry, russetty color that it does late in the summer, +and the harbor seemed bluer every day. Captain Moss took us out in +the _Jolly Nancy_ one afternoon just for kindness--we didn't hire +her at all. She is a sixteen-footer and quite fast, in spite of +being rather broad in the beam. He let each of us steer her and told +us a great many names of things on her, which I forgot immediately. +Jerry always remembers things like that and can talk about +reef-cringles and topping-lift as if he really knew what they were +for. We went quite far out and saw the Sea Monster from a different +side in the distance, and tacked down to the other end of Wecanicut +under the Fort guns. + +It was when we got in from the gorgeous sail, with Greg carrying the +little basket all made of twisted-up rope Captain Moss had done for +him, that we found a big, square envelope lying on the hall table. +And, to our despair, supper was just ready and we couldn't read the +letter till afterward. Supper was good, I must admit,--baked eggs, +all crusty and buttery on top, and muffins, and cherry jam. We ate +hugely, because of the _Jolly Nancy_ making us so hungry. + +When we'd finished we went into Father's study, where he wasn't, and +turned on the desk-light and got at the letter. I read it, while the +boys crouched about expectantly. Here it is: + + + _Dear Comrades_: + + I should have answered your frantic appeals for news of me + long since, had I not been slavishly occupied in carrying out + the demands of the Man of Torture from whom I am now + completely released, praises be. I am even contemplating + escape from Bluar Boor by stealth. But no doubt you have no + desire for these modern details and are all agog to find out + whether or not I met a wretched death at the bottom of the + sea. I think you left me--or I left you--with a soft and + hideous something resting upon my shoulder. + + Sirs, it was a Hand, a webbed hand, and turning, I looked + straight down into another pair of flat dark eyes. They + belonged to a creature not as tall as I, and certainly not + human in shape. Arms and legs it had, of a sort, and scales, + also, and finny spines, and a soft slimy body. Then, through + the door which led to the silver street, I saw more of the + creatures, and more,--a soft, hurrying crowd patting over the + ingot blocks which paved the road, peering in at the door, + beckoning with webby fingers. + + My helmet smothered the cry I gave as I struggled against the + horrible resistance of the water toward the door. Out in the + street the mer-crowd surrounded me, fingered my arms, looking + at me with unfathomable, disc-like eyes, black as ink. With + dawning comprehension it came over me that these creatures + inhabited the desolate, sea-filled city, lived in the mighty + golden halls that once had echoed to the footsteps of + Peruvian kings, fared about the rich streets where coral now + grew instead of tree and flower. + + The things were speechless, with no seeming means of + communication, and I saw, too, that they could not leave the + sea-bottom, but walked upon it as we do upon earth, and could + no more rise than we can leap into the air and swim upon it. + I tried to push my difficult way through the clinging swarm, + who seemed friendly enough in a weird, inhuman way, but I + could not pass through. Dimly through the swinging water I + could see others coming from every carven doorway down the + silent street. I thought then of the weights attached to me, + and I decided to cut them loose at once and rise from the + ghostly place, of which I had seen quite enough to suit me. + But I determined to take with me at least one thing from the + vast mounds of treasure which held me breathless with utter + bewilderment. + + So I turned and with my long knife began prying from its + doorway a ruby as large as my fist. Instantly, without + warning, the creature nearest me raised its scaly hand in a + flinging gesture, and I felt a hot and rushing pain just + above my right elbow. I felt, too, a coldness of water + spurting down my arm and clutched wildly at the sleeve of my + diving-suit to seal the little hole which I saw in it. + Holding it tightly with my left hand, I slashed with my right + at the creatures who were now moving upon me menacingly, + pressing me close. If they forced me back into the doorway, + all hope would be gone. I cut desperately at the fastenings + that secured the weights; felt myself rising; felt my legs + pull out from the clinging, slimy arms; looked down at + them--a sea of bobbing smooth heads, of round, + expressionless, black eyes; saw them waving their + tentacle-like arms in fury; saw at last the dim, golden crest + of the tallest tower below my feet; burst above the blessed + sea-level and saw good blue waves slapping the bow of the + brigantine drifting lazily down toward me. + + I know nothing of the voyage home. I must have been poisoned + by the missile, whatever it was, that the sea-creature flung + at me. (I bear the scar to this day.) For I have no + recollection of much more, until I sat in the library + bow-window of my father's house, very tired and stiff and + thoroughly thankful that the voyage was over. It was dark, + and my mother sat sewing beside a shaded lamp and singing to + herself. I fingered the book that lay beside me, on the + window-seat, and said: + + "Mother, did you keep the book just here all the time I was + gone because you were sorry I went and wanted to remember + me?" + + She laughed, and said: "Yes, all the time while you were + sailing to the Port of Stars. Come now to supper, my dear." + + So I got up very stiffly, for I felt weak and dizzy still, + and went with her. I said: + + "I'm sorry, Mother, that after all I couldn't bring you any + of the jewels." + + Whereupon she laughed again and said something about + "Cornelia" which I am too modest to repeat, but which, being + scholars, you will know by heart, and said that she was glad + enough to have me back at all. + + Sirs, you cannot think how beautiful our little dining-room + looked to me, with the old brass-handled highboy in the + corner and the pots of flowers on the sill--far more + beautiful than the fretted golden towers and gem-girdled + walls of the City under the Sea. + + So take my advice, young sirs, the advice of a man many years + older than you bold young blades: don't you ever go listening + to a half-breed Peruvian that comes slinking to your window, + no matter how enticing may be his tales of treasure. + + Your most faithful + + BOTTLE MAN. + + +"_Do_ you think he dreamed it?" Jerry said. + +"Whatever it was, he must have been glad to get back," I said, +switching off the light so that we could talk in the dark, which is +more creepy and pleasant. + +"But the treasure!" Jerry said. "Do you suppose there ever was such +treasure in the world? That's something like! Imagine finding gold +trees and birds eating jewels on the Sea Monster! By the way, do you +know about 'Cornelia'?" + +I said I thought she had something to do with sitting on a hill and +her children turning to stone one after the other, but Jerry said +that was Niobe and that it was she who turned to stone, not the +children. He has a fearfully long memory. So we put on the light +again and looked it up in "The Reader's Handbook," because we didn't +want to bother the grown-ups, and we found, of course, that she was +the Roman lady who pointed at her sons and said, "These are my +jewels!" when somebody asked her where her gold and ornaments were. +So naturally the Bottle Man didn't feel like repeating such a +complimentary thing, being an un-stuck-up person, but we did think +it was nice of his mother. + +We put away the "Handbook" and made the room dark again and were +arguing over all the exciting places in the Bottle Man's story, when +Greg spoke up suddenly from the corner where we'd almost forgotten +him. + +"If _I_ found a thing like those mer-persons," he said drowsily, "I +wouldn't let it bite me. I'd keep it in the bath-tub and teach it +how to do things." + +"Like your precious toad, I suppose," said Jerry. "Don't be +idiotic." + +So we all went to bed, and I, for one, dreamed about all kinds of +glittering treasures and heaps of jewels each as big as your hat, +and of our nice old Bottle Man, with his long white beard flowing in +the wind. + + * * * * * + +And now comes the perfectly awful part. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +I must say at the beginning that it was all my fault. Jerry says +that it was just as much his, but it wasn't, because I'm the oldest +and I ought to have known better. To begin with, Father had to go to +New York to give a talk at the American Architects' League, or +something, and Mother decided to go with him. At the last minute +Aunt Ailsa got a weekend invitation from somebody she hadn't seen +for ages and went away, too, which left us alone with Katy and Lena. +Katy has been with us next to forever and took care of Jerry and +Greg when they were Infant Babes, so that Mother never imagined, of +course, that anything could happen in two days. It wasn't Katy's +fault either. + +The first day was foggy, and the garden dripped, so we went down to +call on Captain Moss, who lives near the ferry-landing. Besides +having boats for hire, he sells such things as fishing-tackle and +very strong-smelling rope, and sometimes salt herring on a stick. +The things he sells are all mixed up with parts of his own boats and +pieces of canvas and rope-ends, and curly shavings that skitter +across the floor when the wind blows in from the harbor. There is a +window at one end of his shop-place that goes all the way to the +floor, like a doorway, and it is always open. His shop is half on +the ferry-wharf so that the window hangs right over the water, very +high above it. It is quite a dizzyish place, but wonderful to look +out at. Far away you see boats coming in, and Wecanicut all flat and +gray, and then right below is nice sloshy green water with old boxes +and straws floating by, and sometimes horrid orange-peels that +picnic people throw in. + +That afternoon Captain Moss was mending the stern of one of his +boats, and when we asked him what he was fitting on, he said: +"Rudder-gudgeons." + +He grunted it out so funnily that it sounded just like some queer +old flounder trying to talk, and we thought he was joking. But he +wasn't at all. Sometimes he is very nice and tells us the longest +yarns about when he shipped on a whaler, but this time he was busy +and the rudder-gudgeons didn't behave right, I think, so he let us +do all the talking. We told him a good deal about the bottle, and +also something about the city under the sea. He said he shouldn't +wonder at it, for there was powerful curious things under the sea. +He also said he supposed now we'd be wanting to hire the _Jolly +Nancy_ "fer to find submarine cities, sence he wouldn't let us have +her to go a-stavin' in her bottom on them rocks off Wecanicut." + +We decided that he really didn't want to be bothered, so we went +away presently. To soothe him, Jerry bought some of the dry herring +things and carried them home in a pasteboard box that said "1/2 doz. +galvanized line cleats. Extra quality" on the lid. Lena cooked the +herrings for supper, but I don't think she could have done it right, +because they were quite horrid. + +The second day was the perfectly gorgeous kind that makes you want +to go off to seek your fortune or dance on top of a high hill or do +anything rather than stay at home, however nice your own garden may +be. We agreed about this at breakfast, and I said: + +"Let's go to Wecanicut." + +We'd never gone to Wecanicut alone, but I couldn't see any reason +why we shouldn't. Captain Lewis, on the ferry, always watches over +every one on board with a fatherly sort of eye, and Wecanicut itself +is a perfectly safe, mild place, without any quicksands or tigers or +anything that Mother would object to. + +"I tell you what," Jerry said, "let's make it a real adventure and +take some costumes along. We never had any proper ones there +before." + +I thought this was a rather good idea, and after breakfast we went +up to select things that wouldn't be too bothersome to carry, from +the Property Basket. + +"Is it to be pirates or smugglers or what?" Greg asked, poking in +the corner where he keeps his own special rigs. + +"Explorers, my fine fellow," Jerry said, "exploring after a +submerged city." + +"Oh!" Greg said, evidently changing his ideas. + +Jerry and I went down to ask Katy to make us some lunch. + +"Just food; nothing careful," Jerry explained. + +"What are ye goin' to do with it?" Katy asked. + +Jerry was all ready to say, "Eat it, of course," but I saw what Katy +meant and said: + +"We're going out; it's such a nice day. We thought we'd take our +lunch with us to save Lena trouble." + +"Don't get streelin' off too far," Katy said, "Where are ye goin'?" + +"Oh, down by the shore," I said, which was not quite the whole +truth, because of course it was not our shore, but the shore of +Wecanicut I meant. Yes, _all_ of it was my fault. + +Just as we were putting the lunch into the kit-bag Greg came +staggering downstairs, trailing along the weirdest lot of stuff he'd +collected. + +"What on earth is all that?" Jerry asked him. "Drop it and get your +hat." + +"It's--my costume," Greg explained, out of breath from having +dragged all the things down from the attic. + +"Glory!" Jerry said, "You don't suppose you're going to lug all that +rubbish on to the ferry, do you? Not while _I'm_ with you, my boy." + +"You couldn't begin to put on half of it, Gregs," I said. "Let's +weed it out a little." + +"And look sharp about it," Jerry said, jingling the money for the +ferry in his pocket. + +Greg finally took a Turkish fez thing, and a black-and-orange sash, +and a white brocade waistcoat that Father once had for a masque ball +ages ago. We hadn't time to tell him that it was no sort of outfit +for an explorer, so we bundled the things up with our own and +stuffed them all into the kit-bag on top of the lunch. + +Luke Street has a turn in it just beyond our house, so neither Katy +nor Lena could have seen which way we went; anyhow, I think they +were both in the back kitchen, which looks out on the clothes-yard. +I thought perhaps we should have told Katy where we were going after +all, but Jerry said: + +"Fiddlesticks, Chris; we're not babies. I suppose you'd like Katy to +take us in a perambulator." + +This was horrid of him, but he made up for everything later on. + +Our Captain Lewis was not in the pilot-house of the _Wecanicut_. +Instead there was a strange captain, a scraggly, cross-looking +person, staring at a little book and not watching the people who +came on board, the way Captain Lewis does. Jerry and I sat on +campstools on the windy side, and Greg went to watch the +walking-beam, which he thinks will some day knock the top off its +house. It always stops and plunges down just when he thinks it +surely will forget and go smashing on up through the roof. He is +quite disappointed that it never does. It behaved perfectly properly +this time and paddled the old ferry-boat over to Wecanicut as usual. + +We went up the hot little road that goes from the landing, and then +ran through a prickly, stony short-cut that leads among wild +rose-bushes and sweet fern to our part of the shore. There were tiny +little wavelets splashing over the rocks, and you couldn't think +which was bluer--the sea or the sky. The first thing we did was to +bury our bottle of root-beer in a pool up to its neck and mark the +place with two white stones. This is something we have learned by +experience, for nothing is nastier than warm root-beer. Then we put +on the costumes and capered about a little. I had a tight, +striped football jersey, and my gym bloomers, and a black, +villainous-looking felt hat; and Jerry had a ruffle pinned on the +front of his shirt, and a wide belt with the big tinfoil-covered +buckle that Mother made for us once, and a felt hat fastened up on +the sides so that it looked like a real three-cornered one. Greg had +arrayed himself in his things, and he did look too absurd, with more +than a foot of the brocade waistcoat dangling below the sash, the +end of which trailed on the ground behind. + +It gave us a queer, wild feeling, being there without the grown-ups, +and we decided to tell them that as we'd proved we could do it, we +might go again. We never did tell them that, as it happens. + +We all grew hungry so soon that we had lunch much earlier than the +grown-ups would have had it. The food Katy had fixed was wonderful, +though rather squashed on account of all the costumes being +on top of it in the kit-bag. While we ate we organized the +Submerged-City-Seeking-Expedition. Jerry was "Terry Loganshaw," in +charge of the party, and I was "Christopher Hole, shipmaster," and +Greg was "Baroo, the Madagascar cabin-boy," because we couldn't +think of what else he could be, with such clothes. + +We tidied up all the picnic things so that there was nothing left, +and put the root-beer bottle into the kit-bag, because it was a good +one with a patent top. The kit-bag we took with us for duffle, and +we set off for the point. We went by the longest way we could think +of, to make it seem like a real expedition,--'cross country and back +again. Jerry led us through the scratchy, overgrown part of +Wecanicut, and we pretended that it was a long, weary _trek_ through +the most poisonous jungles to the coast of Peru; and when Greg +walked right into a spider's web with a huge yellow spider gloating +in the middle of it, he said he'd been bitten by a tarantula. We +told him that we should have to leave him there to die, for we must +press on to the sea, but he cured himself by eating a magic +sweet-fern leaf and came running after us, tripping over his sash. +The _trekking_ took a long time, and when we reached the end of the +point we were quite exhausted and flung our weary frames down on the +tropic sand to rest. All at once Jerry clutched my arm and said: + +"Look yonder, Hole! Does not yon strange form appear to you like the +topper-most minaret of a sunken tower?" + +He was pointing at the Sea Monster, and it really did look much more +like a rough sort of dome than a monster's head. There was a lot of +haze in the air, which made it look bluish and mysterious instead of +rocky. + +"It do indeed, sir," I said. "Could it be that city we be seeking?" + +"Would that we had a boat!" said Greg, which might have been quite +proper if he'd been somebody else, instead of Baroo. + +We'd been sprawling on the sand again for quite a while, when Jerry +suddenly jumped up and shouted: + +"Glory! Look, Chris!" not at all like Terry Loganshaw. + +I did look, and saw what he had seen. It was an empty boat, a sort +of dinghy, bobbing and butting along beside the rocks a little way +down the shore. We all ran helter-skelter, and Jerry pulled off his +shoes like a flash and waded out and pulled the boat in. + +"It's one of those old tubs from around the ferry-landing," he said. +"It must have got adrift and come down with the tide. Oars in it and +all." + +We stood there silently, Jerry in the water holding the boat, and we +were all thinking the same thing. It was Greg who said it first, +quite solemnly. + +"We could go out to the Sea Monster." + +Of course it was then that I ought to have said that we couldn't, +but Jerry pulled the boat up the beach and ran back to the end of +the point to see how high the waves were before I could say it. It +was too late to say it afterwards, because when we saw that there +was not even the faintest curl of white foam around the Sea Monster, +it did seem as though we could do it. + +"It'll only take about five minutes to row out there," Jerry said, +"and then we'll have seen it at last. It couldn't be a better time. +Why, a newly hatched duckling could swim out there to-day." + +It did look very near, and the water was calm and shiny, with just a +long, heaving roll now and then, as if something underneath were +humping its shoulders. + +So I said, "All right; let's," and we climbed into the boat. Jerry +rows very well, and he pulled both the oars while I bailed with an +old tin can that I found under the stern thwart. The boat didn't +leak badly enough to worry about, but I thought it might be just as +well to keep it bailed. We talked in a very nautical way, though +Jerry kept forgetting he was Terry Loganshaw and mixing up "Treasure +Island" and Captain Moss. But I didn't feel so much like being Chris +Hole, anyway, even to please the boys, and I didn't say much. + +The Sea Monster was much further away than you might suppose. When +there was ever so much smooth, swelling water between us and +Wecanicut, the Monster's head still seemed almost as far away as +before. Somehow the water looked very deep, although you couldn't +see down into it, and it humped itself under the boat. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Presently Wecanicut began to drop further away, and then the Sea +Monster loomed up suddenly right over us, and Jerry had to fend the +boat off with an oar. We had never guessed how big the thing really +was,--not big at all for an island, but very large for a bare, +off-shore rock. I should say that it was just about the bigness of +an ordinary house, and very black and beetling, with not a spear of +grass or anything on it. When Jerry said, "My stars, _what_ a weird +place!" his voice went booming and rumbling in among the rocks, and +a lot of gulls flew up suddenly, flapping and shrieking. He held the +boat up against the edge of a rock while Greg and I got out. We took +the kit-bag ashore, and Jerry made the boat fast by putting a big +piece of stone on top of the rope. There was nothing like a beach or +even a shelving rock to pull it up on, so that was the best we could +do. The boat backed away as far as it could, but the rope was firmly +wedged between the rock and the stone so it couldn't get away. + +Of course we went first to look at the black cave-entrance. Sure +enough, a great flat slab had fallen down from it and lay half in +the water,--we could see scratchy marks and broken places where it +had slid. The cave itself was about six feet deep, and very dank and +dismal-looking. There was no sign of there ever having been +treasure, for nobody could possibly have buried it, unless they'd +hewn places in the living rock, like ancient Egyptians. We might +have thought of that before, but of course we didn't honestly +believe that there was treasure. Somehow the Sea Monster didn't seem +nearly so jolly and exciting as it had from Wecanicut. It was so +real and big, and whenever a wave came in, it boomed and echoed +under the hanging-over rocks. We climbed around to the other side +and went up on top of the highest place, which was about three times +as high as I am. From there we could see the Headland, very far +away and blue, and Wecanicut behind us, safe and green and +friendly-looking, but a long way off; and nothing else but a smeary +line of smoke from a steamer at sea. + +"We named this place well," I said; "it _is_ a Monster." + +"Brrrr, hear it roar!" Jerry said. "The waves must be bigger, or +something. There weren't any when we came out." + +We looked down and saw that the water was behaving differently. +Instead of being smooth and rolling, there was a skitter of sharp +ripples all over it, and the waves went _slap_ and frothed white +when they hit the rock. The sky had changed, too. It was not so +blue, and there were switchy mares' tails across it, and the wind +was blowing from Wecanicut, instead of toward it. + +"We'd better start back," I said. "I'm afraid we'll be late for the +next ferry, as it is, and Father and Mother will be home on the six +o'clock train." + +"Whew!" said Jerry, "I'd forgotten that. It's latish already, +judging by the sun. Come along, Greg, and loop up your sash so you +won't fall off this beast." + +It _was_ latish. The sun was quite low, and we saw that the Sea +Monster threw a long, queer shadow on the water, as if the sea had +been land. We hurried along to the boat, Jerry ahead. + +"She's all right," he shouted, turning around. + +When he turned back he made a sort of wild spring that I didn't +understand at first. Then I saw the stone we had put over the rope +rolling off the rock,--joggled off by the boat's pulling harder when +a wave lifted it. The stone rolled in cornery bounces, with a dull +noise, and the rope slipped after it slowly. I thought Jerry would +be in time. I couldn't believe that I really saw the rope floating +its whole length on the water, dry at first, then darkening wetly. + +"Hang on, Chris!" Jerry said. "I can get it." + +I caught his hand, and he snatched after the rope. But he plunged +wildly, nearly pulling me in, and scrambled up at once with one leg +wet to the hip. + +"There's no bottom at all," he said queerly. "I believe the thing +rises straight out of the sea." + +By that time the boat was ten feet away from the Monster. It circled +once, very quietly, as if it were trying to decide which way to go, +and then it drifted gently away toward the sea, with the rope +trailing along like a snake swimming beside it. + +We stood there looking at the boat until it faded to a hazy speck, +and by that time the sun was really low. I don't think Greg +altogether realized what had happened. We'd played at being marooned +so often that I suppose he didn't quite see that this was different. + +I hope that I shall never, never forget, as long as I live, what a +brick Jerry was through the whole of that nightmarish thing. I know +I never shall. + +"Chris," he said, "you stay on this side. I'll go around to the +Headland side. Greg, you climb up on top. If any of us sees a boat +near enough to do any good, call the others, and we'll all yell and +wave things." + +I'd never heard his voice so commanding, even in plays. He still had +on the cocked hat, and it looked very strange indeed. We scattered +as he ordered, and when the others had gone, I remembered that Greg +had on slippery-soled shoes instead of sneakers, which we usually +wear. I thought of calling after him to be careful, but he never was +a falling-down sort of person, even as a baby. I hoped, too, that he +would have sense enough to loop up that sash or take it off +entirely. + +I sat on the Wecanicut side and stared at the shore and the water +till my eyes ached. More and more wind was blowing all the time, +straight from Wecanicut. It blew so hard in my face that my eyes +watered and I couldn't be sure whether or not I did see boats. In +books, people think of all their past sins when they're in perilous +positions, but all I could think of was that a boat _must_ come +before dark. I did think of how much it all was my fault, but that +was not far enough in the past to count. Presently Jerry came back +and said that if we moved a little toward each other we could see +just as much of the bay and consult at the same time. So we did, and +sat down not very far apart. _I_ said that I supposed we ought to +change off with Greg, because it was horrid lonely up there, but +Jerry said: + +"Nonsense; he likes to be alone. He's probably pretending he's the +King of the Cannibal Isle, or something, and not worrying a bit." + +"I was looking us up in the dictionary the other day," I said, +trying to forget the Sea Monster for a minute, "and _Gregory_ means +'watchful, vigilant'." + +"Now's the first time he's ever lived up to his name, then," said +Jerry. "Keep looking, Chris, and don't moon about." + +We sat there for quite a long time without saying anything, and the +last little golden sliver of sun disappeared behind the point, and +the lighthouse on the Headland came out suddenly, though it was +still quite light, and began to wink--two long flashes and two short +ones. + +"Isn't it queer," Jerry said, "to think that people are there and we +can't possibly tell them." + +"It's worse than queer," I said. + +Then we were still again, till presently Jerry said: + +"Do you hear that funny noise, Chris?" + +I had been listening to it just then, and said "Yes" and that I +supposed it was the horrid noise the water made around on the other +side. For quite a time we didn't hear it, and then Jerry said: + +"There it is again! The water must suck into those echoey hollows. +It sounds almost like a person groaning." + +"Don't!" I said. + +All at once he turned toward me and said in a queer, quick voice: + +"Do you suppose it could possibly be Greg?" + +I can't describe the way I felt when he said it, but if you've ever +felt the same you know what I mean. It was a little as though +something heavy dropped from my throat down to my toes, through me, +leaving me all empty, with cold, tingly things rushing up again to +my head. They were still rushing as we flew around the rock, and I +kept saying: + +"It can't be Greg.... It _can't_ be...." + +But it was. + +He was lying doubled up, just below the high place where Jerry had +told him to keep watch. We didn't dare to touch him, because we +didn't know how badly he was hurt, and he couldn't seem to tell us. +But when I tried to put my arm under him, he pushed me a little and +said, "No, no," so I stopped. Then I saw that his right arm was +twisted under him horridly and that his shoulder looked all wrong. I +touched it very gently and asked him if it was that, and he said, +"Yes; don't!" We had to get him out somehow from that jaggedy place +in the rocks where he was lying. So Jerry got him under the arm that +wasn't hurt, and I took his legs, and we hauled him to a flattish +part of the rock. + +I pulled off the football jersey and put it under him, and Jerry ran +back to get my skirt, which I'd put in the kit-bag when we fixed our +costumes. Just after Jerry had gone something dreadful happened. +Quite suddenly Greg seemed to shrink smaller, and his face grew +rather greenish and not at all like his, and his hand was perfectly +cold when I snatched it. I suppose he'd fainted from our carrying +him so stupidly, but I'd never seen anybody do it before and I +didn't know that was the way it looked. I'd never heard of people +dying from hurting their arms, but I thought that perhaps he was +hurt somewhere else that we didn't know about. But by the time Jerry +came back with the skirt Greg had opened his eyes and looked at me a +little like himself. There is a book in our medicine cupboard at +home called, "Hints on First Aid." Jerry and I used to like to look +at it, and Father said: + +"Go ahead; you may need it some day." But neither of us could +remember anything that was at all useful now. I could plainly see +the picture of some queerly-drawn hands doing a "Spanish Windlass," +but that wouldn't have done poor Greg any good at all. Jerry did +remember that you ought to cut people's clothes and not try to take +them off in the ordinary way, so he took out his knife and ripped up +the sleeve of Greg's jumper and the shoulder-seam of the white +brocaded waistcoat. I don't see how people can stand being Red Cross +nurses in France, for I'm sure I never could be one. Greg's shoulder +was quite awful,--what we could see, for it was almost dark now. +There was nothing at all we dared to do. We couldn't even bathe it, +for there was only sea-water, so I just sat and held Greg's other +hand and patted it. He didn't cry,--I think the hurting was too bad +for that,--but he moaned a little, and sometimes he said, "Hurts, +Chris." + +I tried to tell him a story, the way I did when we all had the +measles and he was so much sicker than the rest of us, but he +couldn't listen. So we just sat there in the dark--it was perfectly +dark now and we couldn't see one another at all--and I began to +count the flashes of the Headland light--two long and two short, two +long and two short--till I thought I should scream. Suddenly Jerry +said: + +"Are you hungry, Chris?" + +I said that I wasn't, and asked him if he was. But he said: + +"No, not very." + +There were real waves on the Wecanicut side of the Monster now, and +the wind was still blowing from that direction harder than ever. Now +and then a drop of spray would flick my cheek, and I think the sound +of the wind around the rock was really more horrid than the noise +the water made. It seemed like midnight, but it was really quite +early in the evening, when Jerry saw the lights bobbing along the +shore of Wecanicut. They were lanterns, two of them, and they +stopped quite often, as if the people were looking for something. +For a minute I couldn't even move. Then I scrambled and slid after +Jerry to the place on the Monster that most nearly faced the +Wecanicut point. I don't think Greg really knew we'd left him; at +least he didn't make a sound. + +The lanterns swung and bobbed nearer till they almost reached the +point, and we could hear faint shouts. Jerry and I braced our feet +against the slimy rocks and shrieked into the dark, and the wind +rushed down our throats and burned them. We could hear the people +quite clearly now. + +"It's Father's voice," Jerry said. "Oh, Chris, the wind is dead +against us. _Now_ for it!" + +I'd always thought Jerry could shout louder than any boy I ever +heard, but you can't imagine how high and thin both our voices +sounded out there on the Sea Monster. We heard Father's voice quite +distinctly: + +"Chris-ti-ine ... Jer-r-r-y ... ti-in-e!" + +We shouted till our chests felt scraped raw, the way you feel when +you've run too hard, and the wind tore our voices straight out to +sea, away from Wecanicut. The lanterns stood quite still for a +minute more, and then they bobbed away. At first I didn't believe +that they were really growing smaller and smaller. But they were, +and at last they were gone entirely, far down the shore. + +"Are you crying, Chris?" Jerry said suddenly, in a queer, wheezy +voice. He'd been shouting even harder than I had. + +"I think not," I said, and my own voice was very strange indeed. + +Jerry whacked me hard on the back, and said: + +"Good old Chris! _Good_ old Chris!" + +The shore of Wecanicut was so black that we might have dreamed the +lanterns, but I still could hear the way Father's own voice had +sounded, calling "Chris-ti-ine!" We almost stumbled over Greg when +we crawled back to him, and he said: "Can we go home now, Chris?" + +The wind gnashed around in a spiteful kind of way, and Jerry touched +my hand suddenly and said: "Chris, it's raining." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +It _was_ raining,--big cold splashes that came faster and faster. I +felt my blouse stick coldly to my shoulder in the places where it +was wet. + +"We _can't_ let Greg lie there and have it rain on him," I said. + +Jerry and I thought of the pirate cave at the same moment, but we +didn't see how we could possibly carry Greg to it in the dark. We +thought that as it wasn't his legs that were hurt he might be able +to walk there, if we helped him. He was very brave and quite willing +to try, though a little dazed about why we wanted him to, but when +we stood him carefully on his feet, he said, "Chris--no--" and we +had to lay him down again. By this time it was really raining, and I +put the skirt over Greg, instead of under him, while we tried to +think. + +"It might work if we made a chair," Jerry suggested. + +So we stooped down and clasped each other's wrists criss-cross, the +way you do to make a human chair, and got Greg on to it, with the +arm that wasn't hurt around my neck. The darkness was perfectly +pitchy, and we had to feel for every step to be sure that it was a +solid place and not the slippery edge that went straight down into +the sea. Greg cried a little and said, "_Please--_stop." I could +feel his hair against my face. It was all wet, and his cheek was +wet, too, and cold. + +The rain blew a little way into the cave, but not much, and we put +Greg as far back as we could. The bottom of the cave was very jaggy +and not comfortable to lie on, but we made it as soft as we could +with the skirt and the jersey. I tripped and stumbled against Jerry, +and when I caught him I felt that he was shivering. His shirt was +quite wet. When I asked him if he was cold, he said "Not very," and +we crawled into the cave place beside Greg, and sat as close +together as possible to keep warm. We couldn't see the Headland +light, and I was rather glad, because it had made me almost crazy, +flashing and flashing so steadily and not caring a bit. + +The rain went _plop_ into the pools, and made a flattish, spattery +sound on the rock. I don't know why I thought of the "Air Religieux" +just then, but I suppose it was because of the rain. I could see the +straight yellow candle-flames all blue around the wick, and Father's +head tucked down looking at the 'cello, and his hands, nice and +strong, playing it; then I got a little mixed and heard him calling +"Christi-ine," fainter and fainter. I think I must have been almost +asleep, because I know the real rain surprised me, like something +I'd forgotten, and a very sharp, cornery rock was poking into my +back. + +It was then that Greg said: + +"Want--Simpson." + +That frightened me more than anything almost, for Simpson was a sort +of stuffed flannel duck-thing that he'd had when he was very little, +and he hadn't thought of it for years. None of us ever knew why he +called it "Simpson," but he adored the thing and made it sleep +beside him in the crib every night. But that was when he was three, +and "Simpson" had been for ages on the top shelf where we keep the +toys that we think we'll play with again sometime before we're +really grown up. We never have done it yet, but there are certain +ones that we couldn't possibly give away, not even to the +Deservingest poor children. + +So when Greg said that, in a tired, far-off sort of way, it did +frighten me, because I _had_ heard of people dying when they were +ravingly delirious. Greg wasn't raving exactly, but it was almost +worse, because his voice was so small and different from his own +dear usual one. When I told him I couldn't get Simpson I tried to +make my voice sound soft and cooey like Mother's when she's sorry, +but it went up into a queer squeak instead, and I couldn't finish +somehow. Greg kept saying, "Simpson;--please--" and crying to +himself. + +I heard Jerry feeling around in the dark and then the click of his +knife opening. I couldn't think what he was doing, but after quite a +long time he pushed something into my hand and said: + +"Does that feel anything like it?" + +"Like what?" I said, but the next minute I knew. + +It _did_ feel like Simpson--soft and flannelly, with a round, bumpy +sort of head at one end. + +"Oh, how did you do it!" I said. "Oh, Jerry, you brick!" + +"I chopped a big piece out of your skirt," he said. "I hope you +don't mind. I happened to have the string off the sandwich bundle in +my pocket, and I squeezed up a head and tied it." + +Greg was a little frightened when Jerry leaned over him suddenly. + +"It's just me, Greg," Jerry said; "just Jerry-o. Here's Simpson, old +lamb." + +I'd never heard Jerry's voice at all like that before. I don't know +whether Greg really thought it was Simpson, but he took it and +sighed--a long, quivery sort of sigh, the way very little children +do when they're asleep sometimes. + +Then there was no sound at all but the different horrid noises that +the Monster made. + +Presently I felt Jerry start, and then he shuffled back a little so +that he was quite tight against my knees. I asked him what was the +matter, and he said "Nothing." After a while, though, he said: + +"Chris, I'd better tell you." + +"What? Oh, what _is_ it?" I said. + +"Do you remember how the tide was when we came out?" he asked. + +"Yes," I said; "on the ebb. Don't you remember the rocks at +Wecanicut, with bushels of wet sea-weed hanging off?" + +"Well?" Jerry said. + +I didn't understand for a minute, then I whispered: + +"Do--you mean--" + +"A wave just hit my foot," said Jerry in a low voice. + +The first thing that we did was a lot of quick figuring. We thought +fearfully hard and remembered that Turkshead Rock was just coming +out of water when we left Wecanicut at four o'clock, so that the +tide must have been within about an hour of ebb. Therefore full +flood would be at eleven o'clock. But we hadn't any idea of whether +it was ten or eleven or twelve, because there was no light to see +Jerry's watch by. He had just an ordinary Ingersoll, not the grand +Radiolite kind that you can see in the dark and it was perfectly +maddening to hear it ticking away cheerfully, and no good to us at +all. Just then something cold wrapped itself around my ankle. It was +the edge of another wavelet. + +We knew that if the cave was going to be flooded we must get Greg +out of it before the water came much higher, but it was still +raining pitch-forks outside, and we didn't know whether to risk +waiting a bit longer or not. + +"Perhaps there's sea-weed and we can feel high watermark," I said. +"Try, Jerry." + +We felt all the way around the sides of the cave toward the bottom, +but as far as we could tell there was no sea-weed at all. + +"That doesn't help us much," Jerry said, "because we don't know +whether the tide is really full now and has covered it, or whether +it just doesn't grow here." + +We curled our feet under us and waited. We could hear the water +sloshing around very close to us. Once when I put out my hand it +went right into a cold pool. It was then that Jerry had a most +wonderful idea. I heard his knife snap open again and asked him what +it was this time. + +"If I take the crystal off my watch," he said, "I can feel where the +hands are." + +I heard the little clicking pop that the front of a watch makes when +you pry it off, and I knew he was feeling the hands very gently. + +"The little one's in line with the winder stem thing," he said, "and +the big one--Chris, it's about twenty minutes of twelve. The water +_can't_ come any higher. We must have had the worst of it." + +It was queer that I cried then, because I hadn't felt at all like +crying when we thought that the cave would be flooded. + +Greg had been quiet for so long that it frightened me suddenly, and +I groped after him to be sure that he was all right. I found his +hand, and I couldn't believe that it was really hot when ours were +so cold. His forehead was hot, too, and dry, in spite of his hair +being damp still from the rain. He curled his hand into mine and +said very clearly: + +"Will you please bring me a drink of water?" + +It was perfectly awful, because he said it so politely and very +carefully, as if he were trying not to bother somebody. And there +was no drink to give him. I thought of the people in stories who lie +on deserts and battle-fields burning in agonies of fever, but I +couldn't remember reading about anybody dying of fever on a rock in +the middle of the sea. I dipped my handkerchief in the pool just +beside me and laid it, all dripping, on Greg's forehead. I didn't +know whether it was a proper First Aid thing to do, but he seemed to +like it and was still again, holding my hand. Presently he said: + +"Mother, why isn't there a drink?" + +"This is awful, Chris," Jerry said. + +Then I thought of the rain-pools. There were lots, of course, in the +hollows of the Monster, but we had nothing to scoop up the water +with. Greg's forehead was just as hot as ever, and he thrashed about +and hurt his shoulder and cried miserably. + +I don't know how Jerry could have thought of so many things; for it +was he who thought of very carefully breaking the bottom off the +root-beer bottle and using it for a cup. Of course the bottom might +have cracked all to pieces, but it was quite heavy and Jerry was +very careful. It came off wonderfully well, though rather jaggy. +Jerry tried to grind the cutty edges off by rubbing them against the +rock, but it didn't work. Then we remembered being very thirsty once +on a long picnic-walk ages ago, and Father wrapping his handkerchief +around the top of the tin can the soup had come in and giving us a +drink at a pump. So we knew that we could do that with the broken +bottle. Jerry dodged out into the rain through the tide-pools and +came back after a while with some water. + +"I couldn't get much," he said, "because the place I found was very +shallow, but I can go again." + +I remembered reading in books that you mustn't give much water to +fever-stricken people in any case. We lifted Greg's head up,--that +is, Jerry did, while I held the root-beer bottle glass, and said: + +"Here's the drink, Gregs, dear." + +It was very hard to tell what I was doing, and some of the water +trickled over the handkerchief and down the front of Greg's jumper. +But he drank the rest, and said: "Thank you very much" in the same +careful voice. + +"Oh, I wish he wouldn't be so blooming polite!" Jerry said sharply, +as we were laying Greg back again, and I felt something wet and warm +splash down on my wrist. But I didn't tell Jerry I'd felt it. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +If I wrote volumes and volumes I couldn't begin to tell how long +that night seemed. It was longer than years and years in prison; it +was as long as a century. I think Jerry slept a little, and perhaps +I did, too, for when I peered out at the cave entrance again there +were two or three bluish, wet stars in the piece of sky I could see, +and the rain-sound had stopped. Jerry was huddled up at my feet with +his dear old head propped uncomfortably against me. He was snoring a +little, and somehow it was the nicest sound I'd ever heard. Greg's +hand was still in mine, and it was not very hot. + +Dawn always disappoints me a little. You think it's going to be +perfectly gorgeous, and then it's usually nothing but one cold, +pinkish streak, and the shadows all going the wrong way. But when I +saw a faint wet grayness beginning to creep along the horizon beyond +the Headland, I thought it was the most wonderful thing I'd ever +seen in my life. The gray spread till the whole sky was the color of +zinc, with the sea a little darker, and then one spikey yellow strip +began to show on the sky-line. I could see Greg at last, with the +jersey under his head, and the white brocade waistcoat all dark and +stained at the shoulder, and his poor dear face ghastly white. And +Jerry asleep, with the ruffle still pinned to his wet shirt and a +big hole torn in the knee of his knickerbockers. And I saw the slimy +pools that the tide had left beside us--it was on the ebb again--and +the pieces of the root-beer bottle that Jerry had broken off, and +the horrible, high, black head of the Sea Monster above us. + +There was no boat of any sort to be seen, near or far away, but I +woke Jerry so that we could both keep watch in case one came. Just +as Jerry crawled out of the cave and stretched himself stiffly, Greg +took his hand away from mine and blinked out at the sky, and said in +almost his own voice: + +"Have we been here all the time?" + +"Yes, all the time, ducky," I said, and then I cried, "Don't try to +move, Gregs!" for I saw him trying to squirm over. + +He lay back and said "Why?" but then in an instant he knew why. I +couldn't do anything but cuddle my cheek down against his, and he +sobbed: + +"Make me stop crying, Chris." + +The light grew stronger and stronger till there were shadows among +the rocks and Wecanicut came out green and brown. Jerry came back +presently, and I wondered if he'd seen anything, but he said: + +"Chris, I just wanted to ask you. How long does it take for a person +to starve?" + +I said days, I thought, and Jerry sighed a little and went back to +his watching-place. Somehow I didn't feel very hungry, myself,--that +is, not the kind of hungry you are when you've played tennis all +morning and then gone in swimming. There was a sharp, sickish +feeling inside me and my head felt a little queer, but it was not +exactly like being hungry. + +I think Greg's arm must have stopped hurting quite so badly, or else +he was being tremendously spunky, because we talked a lot and I told +him that Father would come for us pretty soon. I didn't feel at all +sure of this, because I knew that Father would never have given up +the Sea Monster the night before if he'd had any idea we were there. +But it was so perfectly blessed to have Greg talking sensibly at +all, even with such a wobbly sort of voice, that I didn't much care +what I said. + +All at once Jerry came tumbling around the corner, shouting: + +"Oh, Chris, come quick! _Hurry!_" + +I left Greg and ran after Jerry, and I'd been sitting so long humped +up on the rocks that my knees gave way and I barked my shins against +a sharp ledge. I didn't even know it until ever so long afterwards, +when I found a bruise as big as a saucer and remembered then. Jerry +didn't need to point so wildly out across the water; I saw the boat +before he could say a word. It was a catboat, quite far off, tacking +down from the Headland. The sail was orange, and we'd never seen an +orange sail in our harbor or anywhere, in fact, so we knew it must +be a strange boat. + +Jerry pulled off his shirt like winking and stood there in his bare +arms waving it madly. We both began to shout before the catboat +people could possibly have heard us, but we thought that they might +see the white shirt flying up and down. The boat was tacking a long +leg and a short one. The long one carried it so far out that we +thought it was going to cross the mouth of the bay and not come near +enough to see us. Jerry stopped shouting just long enough to gasp: + +"When she's all ready to go about on the short tack is the time to +yell loudest." + +But the next short tack seemed to bring the boat no nearer than +before, and the long leg carried it so far away that it was no more +use shouting to the orange sail than to a stupid old herring-gull. + +"Could you wave for a bit, Chris?" Jerry said. "My arms are off." + +So I took the shirt and waved it by its sleeves, and the catboat +began another short tack. It was just then that we saw something +black flap-flapping against the sail. + +"They've tied a coat or something to the flag halyard, and they're +running it up and down," Jerry said. "They're trying to get here, +but they _have_ to tack. Don't you _see_, Chris?" + +Of course I saw, but I didn't blame Jerry for being snappy at the +last minute. + +The next tack showed very plainly that the boat was really coming to +the Sea Monster, and somebody stood up in the stern and shouted. We +shouted back--one last howl--and then stood there panting, because +there was no use in wasting any more breath and our throats were +quite split as it was. When the catboat came a little nearer we saw +that there was only one man in it, and, sure enough, an old blue +jersey was tied to the flag halyard. The man turned the boat around +very neatly--I don't know the right sailing word for it--and +anchored. Then he climbed into the dinghy that was trailing along +behind and began rowing to the Sea Monster. + +I sat down on the rock and I had to keep swallowing, because I felt +as if my heart were bumping up against my throat. To save time, +before the man landed, Jerry started to shout what had happened. +There wasn't much left of his voice, but he managed to do it +somehow. + +"We've been here all night," he called huskily. "We came out to +explore this thing, and our boat got away, and our little brother +fell off the top and is hurt awfully, and" (this was just as the man +climbed ashore on the sea-weedy rocks) "and we'd always called this +place the 'Sea Monster' because it looked like one, but now we know +it _is_ one." + +The man was looking at us very hard, particularly at me, and he +said: + +"The 'Sea Monster'!" Then he looked again and said "Oh!" + +He was a nice tall man, with a brown, squarish face, quite thin, and +twinkly blue eyes and a lot of dark hair that blew around like +Jerry's. He looked from one to the other of us and nodded his head +to himself. I suppose we did look very queer,--quite dirty, and +Jerry with the tin-foil-buckled belt still around him and no shirt; +and my bloomers dangling down like a Turkish person's because of the +elastics having burst when I fell down. + +"It seems," said our man, "that I have arrived in the nick of time +to perform a daring rescue." + +He said it in a funny make-believe way, as if he were doing one of +our plays, and then suddenly the twinklyness went out of his eyes +and he said: + +"But take me to Gregory." + +If we hadn't been so perfectly bursting with thankfulness and so +tired of shouting and the cold and the whole hideous place, we +should have wondered how on earth he knew Greg's name, because +neither of us had mentioned it. But we didn't think of it then, and +just snatched his hands and pulled him over the rocks, trying to +tell him a little how glad we were to see him. + +When he saw Greg, his face grew quite different--very sorry, and not +twinkly at all and he went down on his knees (he couldn't have stood +up in the back of the cave) and he said: + +"Poor old man!" And then, "I wonder who had the worst night of it?" + +We said, "Greg, of course." But our man said, "I wonder." Then he +changed again, and instead of being all sorry and gentle, he got +quite commanding and very quick. + +"Chris, you stay here," he said. "Gerald, come with me,--and here, +put this on." + +He pulled off his gray flannel coat and tossed it to Jerry, and +Jerry did put it on and ran after him, tucking up the sleeves. I saw +them get into the dinghy and row back to the boat, and I said: + +"Oh, Gregs, we're going home, we're going home!" and we both cried a +little. + +They came back after what seemed a long time, and our man said: + +"While I'm fixing Gregory, you and Gerald tackle this." + +It was half a loaf of bread and some potted beef done up in oiled +paper, and I'm sure Jerry ate the oiled paper, too. I'd heard of +starving people falling on food and rending it savagely, but I never +knew exactly what rending was until we did it to the bread. We gave +some of it to Greg, too, while our man was fixing him. + +I never saw any one before who could do things so fast and so +gently. He had nice, brown, quick hands, and he looked so grown up +and useful. He'd brought a roll of bandage stuff--the kind with a +blue wrapper that you keep in First Aid kits--and a book that had +"Coast Pilot Guide and Harbor Entrances of New England" on the +cover. I didn't see what he could want that for, except on the boat, +till he put it under Greg's armpit and bandaged his arm across it to +keep it steady. The white waistcoat was in our man's way, so he +ripped it down the side and got it off entirely. + +"I was an explorer," Greg explained shakily. + +"He was Baroo, the Madagascar cabin-boy," Jerry said, gnawing the +loaf, and I thought it seemed years ago that we had _trekked_ across +Wecanicut. + +"I see," said our man, in his nice, kind, reliable way, and then he +said to Greg, "I didn't hurt you much, did I, old fellow?" + +And Greg shook his head, and said: + +"Thank you for coming." + +That was what we all felt, but none of us had put it so simply +before. + +"What's this?" the man said, as he was gathering up the rest of the +bandages. + +It was the Simpson-thing, and it did look very funny by daylight, I +must say,--just a wob of blue flannel tied with a string. I was +going to explain, but Jerry said, with his mouth full: + +"Oh, just something we had," and stuffed it away in the kit-bag. He +was quite red. Boys are funny sometimes. + +"Now," said our man, "comes the embarkation, and I'm afraid I'll +have to hurt you a little, Greg." + +He picked Greg up in one swinging swoop, and I wished that Jerry and +I had been strong enough to do that last night. Greg had only time +for one gasp before he was quite comfortable against our man's +shoulder. But he _was_ brave, because it must have hurt like +anything, even then, and I could see his jaw set hard. Jerry and I +gathered up the kit-bag and the jersey and what was left of the +skirt and followed along. Just beside the dinghy our man paused and +looked all around at the ugly blackness of the Sea Monster and up to +the jaggedy top of it. Then he looked down at Greg and smiled a +little sorry smile, and said very slowly and gently: + +"Ye be Three Poore Mariners." + +Jerry and I stared at each other, and I said: + +"You must know that song, too. We used to pretend being marooned, +but we never thought it would really happen." + +Then Jerry said suddenly: + +"By the way, what's your name, sir?" + +"You'll have to row, Jerry," said our man, "because I must keep the +wounded just the way he is." Then he said: + +"Some people call me Andrew, but my intimate friends call me 'The +Bottle Man'." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +I thought that perhaps it might be a dream after all, because that's +the way things happen in dreams, and that I would wake up and find +it still night and the rain splashing down and poor Greg crying. But +the dinghy was real and so were the slippy slidy wet rocks, and I +had to watch what I was about and not go staring in astonishment at +our man. We all had to be careful about the rocks, and that's why +none of us said anything till we were in the dinghy, except for one +gasp of astonishment. + +"But how _could_ you be?" Jerry and I asked together when we all +were safely aboard, with our man in the stern holding Greg +carefully. + +"But how did you get un-oldened?" Greg asked. + +"We thought you were a very old gentleman," I explained giddily. + +"_I am_," said the Bottle Man. "Ancient." + +"But what about your gray hairs?" Jerry demanded, tugging away at +the oars. + +"If you've more than one gray hair you've gray hairs," said our man. +"I have eleven." + +He ducked down his nice, dark, rumpled-up head for us to look, but I +must say I couldn't see more than one little one all buried among +the black. + +"You're grown up, but you're not old at all," I said. "We've been +imagining you as an aged old man with a long white beard." + +"I never mentioned a long white beard," the Bottle Man said. + +"Yes; but what about your tottering along on two sticks?" Jerry said +suddenly. + +But we had come alongside the catboat, and no one could talk for a +little while until we were all arranged in the boat and our man had +told Jerry and me to pull a mattressy thing out of the tiny little +cabin and had laid Greg on it in the bottom of the boat. He gave him +some stuff out of a little flasky bottle, too, and Greg sputtered +over it and said "Ugh!" but afterward he said: + +"It's nice and hot inside when I thought it had gone." + +And we couldn't talk, either, when our man was hoisting the +orange-painted sail and hauling up the anchor and running back and +forth to pull ropes and things. But when he was settled at the +tiller and all of us were cosy with sweaters and coats, Jerry asked +him again. + +"Why, you see," the Bottle Man said, "something had hit me very hard +and for a long time all that I was able to do was to totter along on +the two sticks." + +"But what hit you?" I asked. + +He dropped his voice, because Greg was actually asleep. + +"An inconsiderate shell," he said. + +For a minute, because I was so used to thinking of him on the lonely +island, I imagined a big conch-shell being hurled at him from +somewhere. Then Jerry and I both gasped: + +"You mean you were in the war?" + +"Exactly," said our man. + +"And the bearded man was a doctor?" Jerry asked. + +"That he was!" the Bottle Man said. + +We both asked him questions at once, but he was dreadfully vague, +and kept looking at Greg and the sail and the shore, but we managed +to piece together that he'd been wounded twice and left for dead in +No-Man's-Land (after doing all sorts of heroic things, we know) and +finally sent home to America from a French hospital. We found out, +too, that his aunt was the "good soul" he talked about in his +letters, and that she half-owned the island and had a beautiful big +old house on it where she made him come while he convalesced. It was +very hard to find out all these things, because he _would_ be so +mysterious and kept saying "Ah!" and "That's another story!" He also +wanted to hear all of our adventures, but we wouldn't tell him those +until we'd heard some of his. + +Jerry asked him suddenly about the scar where the sea-thing bit him, +or stabbed him, or whatever it did, and our man twinkled and pulled +up his sleeve. And there, just above his right elbow where the tan +stopped, was a little white three-cornered scar, sure enough. Jerry +looked and said "Oh!" and our man said "Ah-ha!" + +And at the end of all the stories we realized that we didn't know, +even now, how he happened to be sailing along just in time to rescue +us. + +"_I_ sailed all the way from Bluar Boor," he said, "on purpose to +see you. To tell the truth, I had designs on the 'Sea Monster' which +will not be carried out now. I laid up last night inside the +Headland breakwater and made an early start this morning for the +last leg of the trip. I recognized the 'Sea Monster' a long way off, +but I must say I was surprised when I saw Jerry's shirt signaling so +distressfully. Of course I knew who you were at once, when you +called the place the 'Sea Monster,' but Christine did stagger me for +a minute." + +"Stagger you?" I said. "Why?" + +"I've been thinking you were 'Christopher' all this time, you see," +he said, "but, being a man of infinite resource and unparalleled +sagacity, I immediately perceived the true state of affairs." + +"_Are_ you a professor?" Jerry asked. + +"Heavens, no!" our man laughed. "Why do you ask?" + +"On account of your style," Jerry said. "It's so grand and stately. +So are your letters, sometimes." + +"I am but a poor bridge-builder," the Bottle Man said, "but I can +turn words on or off as I want 'em, like a hose." + +By this time the boat was almost in, and our man brought it up +neatly to the float beside the ferry-slip, and some men came over +and helped him to moor it. Then he got out and came back in a minute +with the man who always meets the ferry in an automobile to hire. +The man looked as if he were in a dazy dream, which I don't blame +him for at all, because we did look quite weird. He and the Bottle +Man lifted Gregg, mattress and all, and stowed him in on the back +seat of the automobile. The rest of us perched on the front seat and +the running-board, trying to conceal our strange appearance from the +staring of quite a crowd which was gathering, as it was just +ferry-time. + +Our man said, "17 Luke Street, and go carefully." It surprised us +for a second to hear him say our address as if he'd known it always, +but then we realized that he _had_ known it for quite a long time. + +I think none of us will ever forget the way the house looked as we +swung around the corner and came up Luke Street. Just the end of the +gable first, behind the two big beeches in the front garden,--oh, we +hadn't seen it for years and centuries,--and then the living-room +windows open, with the curtains blowing, and the little box-bush +that grows in a fat jar on the porch-steps. Mother was coming out at +the front door, and she looked just the way she did when we got a +telegram once saying that Grannie was very ill. Jerry jumped off the +running-board before the automobile stopped, and he let Mother hug +him right there in the middle of the path, which is a thing he +generally hates. By that time our man and the chauffeur were lifting +Greg and the mattress out, and Mother let go of Jerry and stood +quite still, with her face all white and hollow-looking. We all +began talking at once, and the Bottle Man managed to tell Mother +more about everything in a few minutes than you would think +possible. + +He and the automobile man, who still looked flabbergasted, put Greg +on the big bed in mother's room while she was telephoning to Dr. +Topham. We all felt fidgetty and unsettled until Dr. Topham came, +which was really very soon. I think he must have broken all the +speed rules. Jerry and I, who had put on some other clothes, sat in +the living-room with the Bottle Man while the doctor set Greg's arm, +which was fractured. Mother stayed with Greg. The Bottle Man told us +things about the war and his island, and he played soft, wonderful +music on the piano to make us forget about Greg and the Sea Monster +and all the awful things that had happened. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +It was the queerest topsy-turvy morning I ever spent. After Mother +came down and told us that Gregs was fixed and that Doctor Topham +had given him something to make him sleep, we all went in and had +lots of breakfast.--Mother and the Bottle Man, too, for neither of +them had had any. You would never have thought we'd eaten the bread +and potted beef there on the Monster, if you'd seen the way we +devoured the eggs and bacon and honey and toast that Katy and Lena +kept bringing in. They both brought the things, because they were so +glad to see us and so afraid that it had been their fault that we +went to Wecanicut. But we told Mother that it wasn't. + +While we ate. Mother told us everything that had happened at home. +She and Father came in on the six o'clock train and found Katy and +Lena quite worried because we hadn't come back yet, but no one got +really frightened until later. Father thought of Wecanicut and went +to the ferry to ask, but Captain Lewis wasn't there, and of course +the cross new captain that we'd seen looking at the book hadn't even +noticed us and wouldn't have known us if he had. Our nice Portuguese +man remembered our going over and was perfectly certain that he'd +seen us come back, too, which of course he hadn't. So, after setting +the policeman and every one else to search town, Father and Captain +Moss went to Wecanicut on the chance. They reached the point at a +quarter after nine, which was when we saw the lights, and they never +for a moment thought of the Sea Monster, because no one had missed +the old dinghy from the ferry-slip and they didn't imagine that we +could get there. They didn't find any trace of us at the usual +picnic place on Wecanicut, because we had everything with us, and +though some of the Fort soldiers searched, too, nothing could be +found. Father had been up all night and was still out, telephoning +to all sorts of places. + +If I deserved any punishment for its being my fault, I think I had +it when I thought of how hard Father had been working and how +wretched and anxious they all were. I hadn't quite realized that +before. + +Strangely enough, right after breakfast Jerry and I began to yawn +tremendously, and Mother bundled us off to bed. We hadn't had time +to think of it, but of course we hadn't slept particularly well on +the Sea Monster. Just as we were going upstairs, Aunt Ailsa came +running in with her hat on, crying: + +"Is Katy telling the truth?" + +And then we both leaped on her from the stairs. When she ducked her +head up from our hugs, the Bottle Man was standing in the doorway, +looking queer. + +"Ailsa!" he said; and that really did floor us, because we knew we'd +never even mentioned her existence to him. She stood staring, and +then put her hand up against her throat, exactly like somebody in a +book. + +"Andrew!" she said, in a faint little voice. + +Mother looked at them, and then said: + +"Bedtime, chicks! Come along!" and went up with us. + +It was quite weird, going to bed at nine o'clock in the morning. We +pulled down all the shades so we could sleep, though I don't really +think we needed to, because I know that as soon as I shut my eyes I +was sound asleep. + +When I woke up the room was quite dim, and Mother and Father were +standing at the door talking. Father looked awfully tired, but dear +and glad, and he wouldn't let me tell him how sorry I was about it +all. Mother said that even more surprising things had been +happening, and that if I'd slept enough for a time, I'd better come +down to supper. That was queer, too,--dressing in the twilight and +coming down to supper, instead of to breakfast. + +We all talked a lot at supper, of course, and people kept asking +questions. I had to do most of the answering, because Jerry always +left out the parts about himself, and yet it was he who did all the +wonderful things. We had bottles of ginger-pop, because it was a +sort of feast, and Father got up and proposed toasts, just like a +real banquet. First he said: + +"Jerry! I'm glad to have a son with a level head." + +Then he said: + +"Christine!" and looked at me very hard, till I wanted to turn away. +But they all drank it just the same as Jerry's, though I didn't +deserve it at all. Then Father held up his glass and said very +gently: + +"Greg!" And when I tried to drink it, the ginger-pop choked me, and +Jerry banged me between the shoulders, which, of course, only made +it worse, because it wasn't that sort of choke. + +Then Jerry jumped up and said: + +"We ought to drink to the Bottle Man, _I_ think. And, by the way, +'Bottle Man' looks all right in a letter, but it's queer, rather, to +say to you. Haven't you really a real name?" + +Our man and Aunt Ailsa looked at each other as if they were going to +say something, and then the Bottle Man twinkled, and said: + +"Very soon you'll be able to call me Uncle Andrew." + +This part seems to be nothing but explanations, which are horrid, +but there _were_ lots, and I can't help it. Of course Jerry and I +sat staring in surprise, and there _had_ to be explanations. And +what do you think! Our own Bottle Man was that "Somebody Westland" +that Aunt Ailsa had wept so about. The casualty list was perfectly +right in saying that he was wounded and missing (though it came very +late, because by that time he was in America), and she thought, of +course, that he was dead, because she didn't hear from him. And he'd +written to her from the French hospital and the letter never came. +When he came back, all sick and wounded, to America, somebody who +didn't know anything about it told him that Aunt Ailsa was going to +marry Mr. Something-or-other, so our poor man went off sadly to his +island and didn't write to her any more. He'd never heard of us, +because of course her name isn't Holford. And _she'd_ never heard of +his aunt, nor Blue Harbor, nor the island, so of course she didn't +know anything about it when we read his letters to her. Oh, it was +very tangly and bewildering and it took lots of explaining, but at +the end of supper there was just enough ginger-pop left to drink to +both of them. + +Afterwards she and Father played the 'cello and piano, because we +asked them to, and the Bottle Man sat with his arm over Jerry's +shoulders, watching, with the light on his nice, brown, kind face. +And Father sat with his head tucked down over the 'cello, just the +way I remembered there on the Sea Monster, and the candles shone on +Aunt Ailsa's amberish-colored hair, and I thought she was the +beautifullest person in the world, except Mother. I thought about a +lot of things while the music went on, and wondered whether we'd +ever want to picnic on Wecanicut again. But I knew we would, because +Wecanicut is a kind, friendly, safe place (and we do go there now +lots, only we don't look at the Sea Monster much). I thought, too, +that perhaps if we'd never thrown the message in the bottle into the +harbor, Aunt Ailsa and Uncle Andrew would never have been married +and lived happily ever after,--that is, they've lived happily so far +and I think they'll keep on. Because if we hadn't, the Bottle Man +would never have come sailing down to see us, and he might still be +thinking Aunt Ailsa had married the Mr. Thingummy, when she hadn't +at all. + +He was such a nice Bottle Man! I sat there on the couch and thought +how splendid it would be when he was our own uncle, and I laughed +when I remembered how we'd imagined that he was an ancient old +gentleman. The wind began to rise outside. I could hear it whisking +around and bumping in the chimney, and I thought how glad I +was--_oh_, how glad, _glad_ I was--that we were all at home, and I +listened hard to the 'cello and tried not to remember the horrible +old Sea Monster. + +Mother slipped in and sat down beside me, and when the music ended, +she said: "Greg wants to see the 'Bottle Man'." We asked if we might +come, too, because we hadn't seen Greg since they carried him up to +the house, all bloody and rumpled and dirty. So we all went up, and +Mother tip-toed in first with the lamp. He looked almost quite like +himself, with clean pajamas and his hair brushed and all the +frightened, hurt look gone out of his face. + +The Bottle Man (I almost forget to call him that, because we've been +calling him Uncle Andrew for months) leaned over and said: + +"Lots better now, old man?" + +Greg said "Lots," and then, "But what I _did_ want to ask you is, +how you sailed all the way from the Mid-Equator to here in such a +little boat?" + +The Bottle Man laughed, and then said very soberly: + +"But _are_ you sure you measured it right? To-morrow I'll show you +on the map." + +We only stayed a minute, and then said good-night and went out. I +was the last one, and just as I was going through the door, Greg +said: + +"Chris! Come back!" + +So I went and sat on the edge of the bed in the dark, and Greg put +his good arm around my neck when I bent down. + +"Do you know, Chris," he said, "sometimes that night I think I +thought you were Mother. Oh, Chris, I _do_ love you awfully much!" + +And I was happier then than I'd been since--oh, it seemed centuries +ago. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12681 *** |