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+Project Gutenberg's Queensland Cousins, by Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Queensland Cousins
+
+Author: Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
+Release Date: April 16, 2008 [EBook #25079]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEENSLAND COUSINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Wall, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+QUEENSLAND COUSINS
+
+
+    [Illustration: It was the great native chief.]
+
+    QUEENSLAND
+    COUSINS
+
+    BY
+
+    E. L. HAVERFIELD
+
+    THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD.
+    LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK
+
+
+    PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT
+    THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+_CONTENTS._
+
+
+        _I. Home_,                               9
+
+       _II. Bob_,                               22
+
+      _III. The Barefoot Visitor_,              39
+
+       _IV. A Night of Terror_,                 49
+
+        _V. The First Shot_,                    60
+
+       _VI. Bob's Verdict_,                     69
+
+      _VII. Peter's Nightmare_,                 80
+
+     _VIII. The Witch_,                         91
+
+       _IX. A Riderless Horse_,                102
+
+        _X. A Voice from the Scrub_,           114
+
+       _XI. Black-fellows_,                    124
+
+      _XII. The Secret of the Thicket_,        136
+
+     _XIII. A Great Surprise_,                 148
+
+      _XIV. A Moonlight Disturbance_,          158
+
+       _XV. Who is in the Boat?_               168
+
+      _XVI. What the Tide brought in_,         177
+
+     _XVII. Mother's Home_,                    188
+
+    _XVIII. Peter makes a Diversion_,          201
+
+      _XIX. The Last Straw_,                   212
+
+       _XX. Breaking the News_,                225
+
+
+
+
+QUEENSLAND COUSINS.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+HOME.
+
+
+"It has come, it has come, it has come! Oh, do be quick, father!"
+
+The cry rang out lustily from three young voices, three eager heads
+were thrust over the veranda railings. Below, on horseback, was a
+big, brown-haired, brown-bearded man, who looked up from under his
+soft slouch hat with a laugh, and exclaimed,--
+
+"What has come, you outrageously noisy youngsters? One would think
+I had a family of dingoes, to hear you."
+
+Then another head appeared over the railings--a gentle-faced,
+fair-haired woman looked down.
+
+"It is the parcel from home, Jack," she said. "Hadji brought it up
+an hour ago."
+
+"Yes, yes, father; it is the parcel from England at last, and
+mother wouldn't open it till you came, so we have been waiting a
+whole hour--the longest hour I have ever lived."
+
+Nesta Orban, to whom one of the first heads over the railing
+belonged, shook back her masses of fair, fluffy hair with an
+impatient little toss.
+
+"Stuff, Nesta; you always say that," exclaimed Eustace, her twin of
+fourteen. "You said it yesterday coming through the scrub because
+you were tired; and the day before when mother made you sew for an
+hour instead of reading; and the day before--"
+
+"Oh, shut up!" Nesta retorted. "You needn't quote pages from my
+biography like that. Let's think about the parcel.--Hurry up, dad,
+darling."
+
+This last she called after her father, for Mr. Orban had not stayed
+a second after his wife's explanation of the excitement.
+
+"The parcel from home," he repeated, all the laughter dying out of
+his face, and he spurred his horse into a trot round the house
+towards the stable.
+
+The heads all came back into the veranda, and there fell a hush of
+expectancy as every one listened for Mr. Orban's footsteps coming
+up through the house.
+
+"La, la, la! look, Nesta. Dolly downside up; Becky done it," piped
+a little voice from the floor.
+
+"Oh, do be quiet, Becky. Think about the parcel from England.
+Perhaps there is something in it for you," said Nesta.
+
+Mrs. Orban had seated herself again in a low wicker chair, and was
+busy sewing--patching a well-worn shirt with utmost patience.
+
+"Don't be cross with Becky," she said gently. "She can't be
+expected at two years old to realize the meaning of a parcel from
+home. I don't believe you do yourself, Nesta. It is just a lot of
+nice things from England to you--only to father and me is it 'a
+parcel from home.'"
+
+Nesta flushed a little and looked grave as she stood by the table
+fingering the string of the wonderful parcel. Such a lot of string
+there was, and so much sewing and writing! Whatever it might
+contain, at least the parcel looked interesting.
+
+The owner of the third head that had looked over the veranda
+railing to shout the news was ten-year-old Peter. It always seemed
+to Nesta and Eustace that he was ever so much younger than they
+were--perhaps because he had been the baby for so many years, till
+Becky came.
+
+"Mother," said Peter, setting himself right in front of her, and
+staring at her with wide blue eyes, "why don't you and father live
+in England when you want to so much?"
+
+Peter was fair, and very like his mother and Nesta. Eustace and
+little Becky were the two who were like their father, brown-haired
+and brown-eyed. Peter had a delicate, sensitive face, and he was
+always wondering about things in a queer, dreamy sort of way.
+
+"It is easier said than done, my little son," Mrs. Orban answered,
+bending low over her sewing that the child might not see the tears
+his question had brought to her eyes. "Father must work."
+
+"But couldn't he work in England just as well as Queensland?" asked
+Peter.
+
+"Unfortunately not," said his mother sadly. "Work is not easy to
+get in England, or anywhere for the matter of that."
+
+Eustace caught the note of sadness in his mother's voice, and
+strolling behind Peter he gave him a kick on the ankle with all the
+air of its being accidental.
+
+"Ow-wow-wow!" exclaimed Peter, hopping on one leg and holding on to
+the other. "You hurt me."
+
+"Sorry," said Eustace carelessly, following him across the veranda.
+
+"La, la, la! dolly upside downey," crooned Becky from the floor,
+where she sat deeply engaged in trying to make her boy doll stand
+on its head as she had seen Eustace do.
+
+"Look here," said Eustace under cover of Becky's singing, "don't
+ask stupid questions, Peter. It always makes mother feel bad to
+talk about England--any silly could see that without being told, I
+should think."
+
+But Peter looked surprised.
+
+"Then you kicked me on purpose," he said, no louder than Eustace
+had spoken.
+
+"Of course," said Eustace.
+
+"What for?" demanded Peter, flushing hotly.
+
+"To make you shut up, that's all," Eustace said coolly.
+
+Peter dropped his injured leg and flung himself upon his brother
+with doubled fists.
+
+"How dare you, you--you horrid boy!" he said chokily, for Peter's
+temper always sprang out like a sheet of flame up muslin curtains.
+
+With a queer little smile, Eustace gripped his slender wrists, and
+held them so that the little chap could do nothing but wriggle
+about like an eel.
+
+"Let me go, I say," he said; "let me go, I tell you. I won't be
+held like a baby."
+
+He had about as much strength as a baby in Eustace's grip, for the
+elder boy was a well-built, square-shouldered fellow, and powerful
+for his age.
+
+Mrs. Orban looked up at the commotion, and wondered what it could
+be all about so suddenly.
+
+"As you are strong, be merciful, Eustace," she said quietly--that
+was all.
+
+Eustace instantly let go, and Peter stood for a second staring down
+at the two red rings round his wrists, then, as Eustace turned
+unconcernedly away, dashed at his back and pommelled it.
+
+"Go on," said Eustace with seeming carelessness, but the words were
+jerked out by the thumps; "my coat hasn't had a brushing for a
+week. Glad to get the dust out of it."
+
+"Peter, Peter," said his mother warningly, "you surely don't want
+to be sent away before the parcel is opened, do you?"
+
+This stopped Peter effectually; a minute later he had forgotten his
+grievance, which was also Peter's way.
+
+"So the great day has come at last," said Mr. Orban, coming out
+from the house on to the veranda, which was so large and spacious
+that it was as useful to the household as several extra rooms.
+
+Mrs. Orban put away her sewing, and every one gathered round the
+table as Mr. Orban began carefully undoing the string.
+
+"Here's my knife, father," Eustace said, with a pleading note in
+his voice.
+
+"Plenty of time, my lad," Mr. Orban said quietly. "One doesn't get
+a bit of string like this every day."
+
+Becky had become infected by the excitement at last, and now
+insisted upon being held up in her mother's arms. All the eager
+eyes were bent on Mr. Orban's hands as he skilfully untied knot
+after knot.
+
+"You won't unpick the sewing on the American cloth too, will you?"
+asked Nesta anxiously.
+
+"No; I think we can cut that, Miss Impatience," laughed her father.
+"Mother could hardly use it again even for hemming floor-cloths."
+
+"I'm not so sure, Jack," said Mrs. Orban; "my stock of cottons is
+running very low. It is time you went away and brought me a fresh
+supply."
+
+Mr. Orban undid the last knot, but instead of taking the knife
+Eustace was still patiently holding out, he began winding up the
+string into a neat coil. The children glanced up in desperation, to
+find his face grave and preoccupied. He looked as if he had
+entirely forgotten the parcel.
+
+"What is it, dear?" said Mrs. Orban, with sudden alarm in her
+voice. "Is anything wrong?"
+
+Mr. Orban roused himself with an effort.
+
+"Oh no," he replied slowly; "nothing wrong exactly. Only your words
+struck me oddly, for, as a matter of fact, I have to go away, and
+soon too."
+
+Eustace glanced quickly at his mother, and the look in her eyes
+made him forget the parcel too.
+
+"Not far, Jack, I hope," she said.
+
+"Rather, I'm afraid," was the answer. "I hope you won't mind being
+left for a week or two."
+
+"A week or two!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban in a tone that was
+unmistakably disturbed.
+
+"I can't do it in less," Mr. Orban went on. "I am obliged to go
+down to Brisbane on business."
+
+"To Brisbane!" Nesta cried. "O dad, couldn't you take us all with
+you? It would be lovely!"
+
+"If you will find the fares, young woman, I shall be delighted,"
+said her father, pinching her ear. "The journey to Brisbane is
+rather an expensive matter. I couldn't afford to take myself there
+just for the fun of the thing."
+
+"When must you go, Jack?" asked Mrs. Orban, trying hard to speak
+steadily and naturally.
+
+"Next week--as soon as possible, that is," Mr. Orban said; "and I
+will get back just as quick as I can. You will be all right, dear.
+I will tell Farley or Robertson to sleep up here in the house, and
+you won't feel so lonely at night."
+
+"Oh no, no," Mrs. Orban said, "don't do that. They have both got
+their wives and families to look after. Eustace will be an
+efficient man of the house and companion to his mummie--won't you,
+son?"
+
+"I'll do my best," Eustace said soberly.
+
+To be quite honest, he was as startled as his mother at his
+father's announcement; he did not like the idea at all. He had
+caught that curious look in his mother's eyes, and it troubled him.
+
+But Nesta was too much taken up with the thought of the parcel to
+notice anything except the delay in opening it.
+
+"Couldn't we go on?" she pleaded.
+
+"Poor Nesta," said Mr. Orban, beginning to cut the sewing, "is it
+getting beyond your patience altogether? Well, here goes then!"
+
+Inside the American cloth was yet another wrapper, this time of
+linen sewn up most carefully, and within that paper after paper.
+The excitement grew more and more tense, till at last, when they
+came to a series of neat packages, each with a label to say from
+whom and to whom the gift was, every one except Becky was beyond
+speaking point.
+
+The joys that parcel contained were indescribable, because no child
+born and bred in England could be made to understand how wonderful,
+how undreamed of, how surprising were the most ordinary things to
+those four Bush children. They lived right out of the world, and
+had spent most of their lives on a sugar plantation in North
+Queensland; the common things of our everyday existence were
+marvels to them.
+
+A clockwork train sent out to Peter with a hope that "he was not
+too old for it" fascinated Eustace, despite his four years'
+seniority; the exquisite little doll's dinner service for Becky set
+Nesta longing to play with it and cook pretence dinners for it.
+
+There was something for every one, and the children's eyes shone
+with pleasure; but Mrs. Orban's were dim as, the unpacking over,
+she turned quietly away and disappeared into the house.
+
+In the midst of turning the pages of his new book to look for
+pictures, Eustace missed her, and shortly after Mr. Orban went away
+too.
+
+"Oh!" Eustace exclaimed, slamming his book together with a big
+sigh, "I do wish parcels from England didn't always make mother
+sad."
+
+"I guess she wants to see grannie and Aunt Dorothy badly," Nesta
+suggested.
+
+"Oh, it is more than that," Eustace said, getting up and moving
+restlessly about. "I sometimes think she simply hates this place
+and everything to do with it."
+
+"Do you, Eustace?" asked Peter, his eyes round with wonder.
+
+"Well, it is fearfully dull, isn't it?" Nesta said. "England must
+be quite different. English stories always make me ache to go
+there. It must be so awfully interesting, mustn't it?"
+
+"Wouldn't it be splendid if father said suddenly one day we could
+all go to England!" Peter cried excitedly.
+
+"I don't think there is the least chance of that," Eustace said.
+"You heard what he said about its being too expensive to take us
+even to Brisbane. It would cost ten times as much to go to
+England."
+
+"I say," Nesta said quickly, "I wonder why father has to go to
+Brisbane in such a hurry? Don't you, Eustace?"
+
+"I haven't thought about it," Eustace answered. "But, anyhow,
+mother doesn't like his going--that's very clear."
+
+"Doesn't she?" Nesta asked in a surprised voice. "How _do_ you
+know?"
+
+"Didn't you see her face when father said he must go?" Eustace
+asked with a touch of impatience.
+
+Nesta shook her head.
+
+"Oh!" was all Eustace exclaimed; then he turned, and resting his
+elbows on the railings, stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes.
+
+The Orbans' house was built on the top of an isolated hill three
+hundred feet above a valley which, except where the scrub had been
+cleared for the growing of sugar-cane, was thickly wooded. On three
+sides of the valley, stretching round like a great horse-shoe, lay
+range upon range of hills, now softest purple. The fourth side, on
+which the boy gazed, was bounded by the sea--a shimmering patch of
+blue. No scene could have been grander, none more infinitely
+lonely. But Eustace was not thinking about it either admiringly or
+otherwise.
+
+Nesta joined her brother, and stared curiously at his unusually
+serious face.
+
+"What do you mean, Eustace?" she demanded.
+
+He did not speak, so she put her hand on his shoulder and gave him
+a little shake.
+
+"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
+
+"Mother," Eustace said quite shortly.
+
+"Yes, I know," Nesta said; "but what about her?"
+
+"Father's going away," Eustace said.
+
+"Of course," Nesta said, rather scornfully; "you told me that
+before. And I know mother will be dreadfully dull without him."
+
+"Dull!" exclaimed Eustace, knocking the tips of his toes
+impatiently against the woodwork.
+
+"Yes, dull," said the girl.
+
+"Worse than dull," Eustace responded soberly.
+
+"But we can do our best to cheer her up till he comes back."
+
+Eustace turned slowly round until he was staring right into Nesta's
+eyes, and his look was so queer that she was startled.
+
+"Do you mean to say you don't understand?" he said solemnly.
+
+"No, I certainly don't," Nesta replied.
+
+Eustace wheeled quickly back to the railing, gazing seaward again.
+
+"Then I'm not going to tell you," he said decidedly.
+
+Nesta stood blankly wondering for a moment.
+
+"Well, it's hateful of you," she began; then suddenly her
+expression changed. "Eustace," she exclaimed, grabbing his arm with
+both hands, "do you mean mother will be frightened?"
+
+"I'm not going to tell you," repeated the boy with seeming
+obstinacy.
+
+But Nesta's face was full of certainty.
+
+"It _is_ that!" she said with conviction. "You think she will be
+scared at being left."
+
+Now Eustace had suddenly begun to repent of having said so much. He
+had not the least desire to frighten Nesta; he had honestly
+believed that she must have noticed what he did in their mother's
+tone and look, but now he realized Nesta had not understood. He
+stood silent, regretting his carelessness.
+
+"O Eustace," Nesta cried, "of course it is that. How dreadful! I
+remember now what father said--he knew mother might be frightened,
+and that is why he offered to have Farley or Robertson up."
+
+There was terror in Nesta's voice now, and Eustace rounded sharply
+upon her.
+
+"I say, shut up!" he said, with a glance towards Peter, who was too
+engrossed with his train at the other side of the veranda to be
+listening. "You don't want to frighten the kids, do you? Besides,
+father said we should be all right, and he knows."
+
+"But mother was frightened," Nesta said, looking unconvinced.
+
+"She didn't say so," Eustace argued. "She refused to have either
+of the men up, you see. That doesn't look much like funking it."
+
+"Then what did you mean?" demanded Nesta.
+
+"Oh, never mind," Eustace said, throwing himself into a chair and
+reopening his book. "Don't let's talk about it."
+
+"That is nonsense," Nesta said. "How can I help minding about a
+thing like that?"
+
+"Well, but what's the good of talking?" Eustace exclaimed. "Dad has
+to go; we can't prevent that if we talk for ever."
+
+"Yes; but if it is dangerous--" Nesta began in a low, awe-struck
+voice.
+
+"Dangerous!" Eustace repeated. "What could there be dangerous about
+it?"
+
+"You know as well as I do," Nesta replied. "Supposing the blacks
+were to come down on us in the night when we were here all alone!"
+
+"Oh, do shut up!" Eustace said sharply. "Why should the blacks
+happen to come just because father is away? They may not even be in
+the neighbourhood."
+
+"Yes; but you remember that horrid story Kate told us," Nesta said,
+almost whispering. "The father was away--there were nothing but
+women and children in the house--"
+
+"Oh, stop, Nesta!" Eustace said. "Of course I remember all about
+it. I don't want to hear the beastly thing all over again. What is
+the good of frightening ourselves all for nothing? Don't you know
+that father wouldn't go if he could possibly help it? And if he
+must go, we've got to make the best of it, that's all. Now I'm
+going to read, so do shut up."
+
+Nesta stood silently staring at him a moment, but he seemed
+already to have forgotten her very existence.
+
+"Well, you are a queer boy," she said, in what the boys always
+called her "huffy" voice.
+
+Still Eustace took no notice.
+
+"Perhaps you will be sorry some day," Nesta said with a little
+gulp, and turned away to Becky, who was calling her.
+
+Eustace was apparently engrossed in his book, but not a word did
+he see on the page he stared at so intently. He had done a stupid
+thing, and he regretted it, for the mischief was past remedy now.
+Quite unintentionally he had made Nesta as nervous as he was
+himself, and he knew that nothing he might say would reassure her.
+He was quite right that there was no use in talking about it; he
+felt sure that his father would say he ought not to have said so
+much, and he was vexed with himself for his carelessness. Silence
+seemed the only course open to him--silence on the subject for the
+present, and for the future a great, whole-hearted resolve to play
+the man come what might.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+BOB.
+
+
+Eustace was right: their father would not have gone to Brisbane had
+it not been necessary; but this was not because Mr. Orban was
+troubled by any fears for the safety of his family. He had lived so
+long in North Queensland that he was used to the solitude, and
+thought nothing of the dangers surrounding them. It distressed him
+to have to go away simply because he knew that his wife would be
+terribly nervous without him. Fifteen years in the colony had not
+accustomed her to the loneliness of their position.
+
+Besides the two engineers, and the field manager, Mr. Ashton, who
+all lived at the foot of the hill, the Orbans had no white
+neighbours nearer than five miles off. The field hands were
+coloured men of some five or six different races, chiefly Chinese
+or Malays--the good-for-nothing riff-raff of their own countries
+come to seek a living elsewhere.
+
+There was no society, no constant dropping in of friends, nothing
+to relieve the monotony of daily life. But none of this did Mrs.
+Orban mind; she was always busy and content by day. It was only of
+the night-time she was afraid, when strange-voiced creatures were
+never silent an hour, weird cries from the scrub pierced the air,
+and there arose from the plantation below wild sounds, sometimes of
+revelry over a feast, the beating of tom-toms, and wailing of
+voices as the natives conducted their heathen worship, or indulged
+in noisy quarrels likely to end in bloodshed between antagonistic
+tribes.
+
+But though for some reasons the coolies were not pleasant
+neighbours, the house on the hill had nothing to fear from them.
+Their worst feature was their utter uselessness in any real danger,
+coming from quite another quarter. Though they might serve him
+solely for their own benefit, and were for the most part thieves
+and rogues, the coolies had no desire to harm the white man
+personally.
+
+But wandering stealthily through the woods, homeless and lawless,
+is a race that hates the white man--the aborigines of Australia.
+Civilization has driven them farther and farther north, for the
+Australian black-fellows cannot be tamed and trained--their
+nature is too wild and fierce to be kept within bounds except
+by fear and crushing. They are treacherous and savage, and most
+repulsive in appearance. Though spoken of as black, they are
+really chocolate-brown, but so covered with hair as to be very
+dusky.
+
+Being very cunning in their movements, it is always difficult to
+know where they are, and there are often such long lapses between
+the times they are heard of, that most people forget their
+existence as a matter of any importance. But Mr. Orban knew that
+his wife was haunted by a very constant horror of them--a dread
+lest one night the blacks should make a raid upon their plantation,
+as they had been known to do upon other white men's dwellings.
+
+What neither Mr. nor Mrs. Orban realized was how much Eustace and
+Nesta knew of certain terrible events happening from time to time
+in just such isolated homes as their own. It was from the two young
+white maidservants the children heard tales they listened to with a
+kind of awful enjoyment by day, but which were remembered at night
+with a shudder. The creaking of the wooden house in which they
+lived as the boards contracted after the tropical heat of day, and
+the weird sounds rising from the plantation below, held a hundred
+terrors to be ashamed of in the morning.
+
+Eustace and Nesta never spoke of these night panics to any one,
+least of all to each other--they seemed so silly when broad
+daylight proved there had been absolutely nothing to be cowardly
+about.
+
+By some unspoken rule Peter was never allowed to hear these
+stories. He was always considered so very much younger than Eustace
+and Nesta that even the servants had the sense not to frighten him.
+So Peter's spirits were not damped by the thought of their father's
+departure, and he knew nothing of the queer little tiff that had
+taken place between Eustace and Nesta.
+
+It is very odd how people can quarrel over a matter upon which they
+are perfectly agreed; but they frequently do, especially when it
+has anything to do with fear.
+
+Nesta went to bed that night still in the sulks, with an air of
+"You'll be sorry some day" about her every attitude. Eustace seemed
+inseparable from his book, and disinclined to talk. He went heavily
+to bed, more troubled than ever because, though his mother was
+unusually merry, making much of all the presents from England, and
+showing great interest in them, he saw she was very white, and
+there was still a strange look about her eyes. He suspected her
+gaiety to be only put on for their amusement, and he felt sorrier
+and sorrier for her.
+
+But a good night's rest did wonders for both children, and they
+came in to breakfast in better humours. Nesta forgot to be tragic
+when she heard her father and mother discussing what material
+should be brought from Brisbane for the girls' new dresses. New
+clothes were a rare event for the Orban children, and always caused
+a good deal of excitement.
+
+Eustace had been up early, and everything looked so calm, peaceful,
+and ordinary about the place that he was inclined to be more than
+half ashamed of his outburst the day before. "After all," he
+argued, "nothing ever has happened to us--why should it now? The
+black-fellows have never come this way. Why should they, just
+because father is away? How could they get to know of his going?
+Besides, the plantation isn't so awfully far off."
+
+He had stood on the veranda and stared down at the sugar mill lying
+at the foot of the hill, where Robertson and Farley lived; at Mr.
+Ashton's house, and all the familiar, odd-shaped huts in which the
+coolies lived. It was all just as he had seen it every day of his
+life, and nothing had ever happened--why, indeed, should it now?
+
+Mrs. Orban's interest in the new dresses was certainly not
+feigned.
+
+"Now, Jack," she was saying as Eustace entered the room,
+"don't--don't go and ask for dusters. It is that pretty pink and
+blue check zephyr I want--pink for Becky, and blue for Nesta."
+
+"Well, dear, you must confess it is just like duster stuff--now,
+isn't it?" demanded Mr. Orban with a laugh.
+
+"O daddy, not a bit!" Nesta exclaimed. "What a horrid thought!"
+
+"Some of mother's dusters are very pretty, young woman," said her
+father. "I wouldn't mind having shirts made of them myself."
+
+"I should object very much," Mrs. Orban said with a laugh; "you
+would look like a coolie. But let us talk sense again."
+
+Talking sense meant talking business, which on this occasion was
+the making out of a list of really rather dull things wanted in the
+house.
+
+Daily life begins early on a sugar plantation. It was now only
+half-past six, and the house had been astir since half-past four;
+the children playing, Mrs. Orban working about the house, and Mr.
+Orban away down on the plantation. The comparative cool of the
+morning was the best time for any sort of activity. Later, as the
+fierce December sun rose higher, even the children became listless
+and disinclined to race about.
+
+After breakfast, when Mr. Orban went back to work, Mrs. Orban gave
+the children lessons--the only teaching they had ever had. At
+eleven Mr. Orban returned for early dinner.
+
+To our English ideas the routine seems strange; but the Orban
+children were used to it, and had no realization of how different
+was life in their parents' old home. It did not seem at all funny
+even to the twins to have tea at five, and go to bed at half-past
+six or seven. They were generally very ready for sleep by then,
+after their long, exhausting day.
+
+"I say, father," Eustace said suddenly, after a long meditation
+while business was being discussed, "I can stay up to dinner with
+mother when you are away--can't I? It will be awfully dull for her
+if I don't."
+
+"And me too," said Nesta, who never allowed it to be forgotten
+that, being the same age as Eustace, she claimed the same
+privileges.
+
+"Rot," said Eustace; "you're only a girl."
+
+"And me too," chimed in Peter.
+
+"Oh, you silly baby," said Eustace impatiently, "what good would
+you do?"
+
+Peter's delicate face became scarlet.
+
+"I could play games with mother quite as well as you," he said with
+an angry frown.
+
+"Mother doesn't want amusing like that to keep her from being
+dull," Eustace declared. "She wants somebody who can talk sensibly
+like father, and be grown up."
+
+Nesta gave a little derisive laugh.
+
+"Like father!" she repeated; "that is funny. I suppose you think
+you could be just like him. Why don't you ask him to let you smoke
+one of his pipes at once?"
+
+"Don't be silly, Nesta," Eustace retorted.
+
+"It's you who are silly," Nesta said, "thinking only boys can be
+grown up or of any use."
+
+"When you have quite done snapping each other's heads off,"
+interposed their father in his deep, quiet voice, "perhaps you will
+allow me to speak. As a matter of fact, the mother thinks of going
+to bed with the cocks and hens herself."
+
+"To bed with the cocks and hens!" repeated Peter, with an
+expression of blank surprise in his blue eyes.
+
+Now the cocks and hens many of them roosted under the house, which
+was built on pillars, and set some distance above the ground. It
+was not an attractive spot at any time, for here there also lived
+many strange creatures, snakes amongst them.
+
+"Well, not exactly in the henhouse, Peter," said his father, with a
+twinkle in his eyes. "I dare say she will sleep as usual in her own
+bedroom. I was referring more to the hour at which she says she
+means to go to bed--not very long after you."
+
+"Still you will have dinner--won't you, mummie?" Eustace said.
+
+"Certainly," Mrs. Orban answered with a smile; "and I don't think
+it would be a bad plan for you and Nesta to stay up for it, if you
+will promise not to get up quite so early in the morning. We will
+have dinner directly after Peter and Becky are in bed; but we won't
+sit up late ourselves, any of us."
+
+Mrs. Orban certainly showed no signs of nervousness to-day; the
+strained expression had left her eyes; she was laughing and talking
+quite naturally.
+
+"I suppose," thought Eustace, "she was partly upset by the parcel
+from England."
+
+"Father," Nesta exclaimed, "I'm certain I hear a horse coming up
+the hill. Who can it be at this time of day?"
+
+"Don't know, I'm sure," said her father; "it might be one of a
+dozen people. You had better go and sing out 'friend or foe' over
+the veranda; but I dare say it isn't a horse at all. More probably
+it is old Hadji with the mail bag that ought to have come with the
+parcel yesterday."
+
+But the three elder children had disappeared out on to the veranda
+and were leaning over, straining their eyes down the road that
+wound up the hill from the plain.
+
+It was a very rough road, with ruts in it sometimes two or three
+feet deep. During the rains little better than a bog, it was now
+burnt hard as flint.
+
+There was nothing to be seen though a mile of road was visible,
+lost now and then among bends; but the children listened
+breathlessly, and at last Eustace said,--
+
+"It is two horses and a four-wheel buggy, and it has only just
+begun the hill. Let's go in and tell father."
+
+"Oh, what a bother it is so far off!" Nesta exclaimed, with a sigh
+of impatience. "We shall have to wait ages to find out who it is."
+
+"Who do you think it can be, father?" Peter asked, as Eustace
+explained what he believed to be coming.
+
+"How should I know?" Mr. Orban answered with mock seriousness.
+
+"It might be a magician with milk-white steeds, or a fairy
+godmother, Peter, in a coach made out of pumpkins," said Mrs.
+Orban.
+
+"O mother!" Peter cried impatiently, "don't be silly--"
+
+The sentence was never completed; it finished in a howl of mingled
+pain and rage.
+
+"What on earth is the matter now?" asked Mr. Orban.
+
+"Eustace ki-ki-kicked me," stormed Peter, making a dive at his
+brother with doubled fists; but his father caught him and held him
+pinioned.
+
+"I can pretty well guess why," said the big man severely. "If he
+hadn't, I should have spanked you myself. How dare you say 'don't
+be silly' to your mother?"
+
+Peter hung his head.
+
+"I didn't mean--" he began.
+
+"I should just think you didn't mean it," said his father. "You'll
+kindly remember you've no right by birth to be a cad, and it is
+caddish for a gentleman to speak like that to a lady--whether he is
+ten years old or a hundred."
+
+"Besides," said Eustace, looking furiously at the small culprit,
+"mother couldn't be silly if she tried."
+
+Peter's humbled expression changed.
+
+"It wasn't for you to kick me," he spluttered resentfully; "I'll
+kick you back."
+
+"Oh, if you like to be a donkey," began Eustace in a lordly tone.
+
+"Who was donkey first?" demanded Peter.
+
+"I guess," said Nesta, who was accustomed to these scenes, "the
+buggy may be in sight at the first bend by now. I'm going to look."
+
+Eustace followed.
+
+"Well, Peter, what comes next?" asked Mr. Orban, without letting go
+the child's wrists.
+
+Peter looked over his shoulder towards his mother--the blue eyes
+were swimming with tears, there was a choke in his voice.
+
+"I'm sorry, mummie," he gasped.
+
+The next moment he was clasped in his mother's arms, there was a
+manful struggle with gathering tears, and then like an arrow from a
+bow Peter was off to the veranda with every intention of thumping
+Eustace soundly. But the news that greeted him there put the recent
+fray right out of his mind.
+
+"It is a buggy, Peter," said Nesta, "and I believe Bob Cochrane is
+driving it."
+
+Now the Cochranes were the Orbans' nearest neighbours--the family
+that lived only five miles away. It consisted of a father and
+mother and this young fellow Robert, who was six-and-twenty, the
+idol and greatest admiration of the Orban children's hearts. In
+their eyes there was nothing Bob could not do; his shooting, his
+driving and riding, his jokes, his ways--everything about him was
+wonderful. A visit from Bob was a splendid event, no matter what
+the hour of the day.
+
+Bob had a sister who was about the twins' age, and Nesta's only
+friend.
+
+"It looks just like Bob's driving," said Eustace.
+
+Then they waited with eager faces, too excited to speak, till
+suddenly they all cried at once,--
+
+"It is Bob--it is--it is--it is!"
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Orban came out on to the veranda, Becky toddling
+behind.
+
+"There is no doubt about it," said Mr. Orban as he watched the
+jolting, bumping carriage toiling up the terribly steep hill that
+was almost too much for the horses, fine beasts though they were.
+
+"How strange of him to come in the buggy instead of riding, as he
+is alone," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Yes," chimed in Nesta, "that was just what I was thinking. Bob
+always--always rides, excepting--"
+
+She paused to think whether she had ever seen Bob driving before,
+and Eustace finished her sentence for her.
+
+"Excepting when he doesn't," he said.
+
+"Goose," said Nesta tartly.
+
+"Or, more correctly speaking, 'gander,'" said Mr. Orban. "Well, we
+needn't squeeze our heads to a pulp trying to guess what we shall
+learn from Bob without the slightest trouble in another twenty
+minutes at most."
+
+When Bob Cochrane came within earshot he was greeted with such a
+chorus of yells that not a single word could he hear of what the
+children were trying to say. He grinned back good-humouredly,
+waved, and whipping up his horses, came as fast as he could under
+the veranda. Then he gathered the meaning of the noise.
+
+"What have you come for, Bob?" shouted the three.
+
+"What have I come for?" he repeated, with his particular laugh
+which had a way of setting every one else off laughing too as a
+rule. "Well, upon my word, that is a nice polite way to greet a
+chap. I had better be off again."
+
+He was big, fair-haired, and gray-eyed, not handsome, but far too
+manly for that to matter. As Manuel the Manila boy ran round the
+house to take charge of the horses, Bob got down from the buggy and
+sprang up the veranda steps in contradiction of his own words. He
+was surrounded at the top by the children, all talking at once.
+Without an attempt at answering, he picked up Becky, who adored him
+with the rest, and passed on to Mr. and Mrs. Orban.
+
+"I apologize for the disorder," Mr. Orban said, "but they have been
+working themselves up into a fever of expectation ever since they
+first heard the buggy wheels. Seriously though, I hope nothing is
+wrong at home. Your mother isn't ill, is she? You haven't come to
+fetch the wife as nurse, or anything?"
+
+Such friendly acts as these were the common courtesies of their
+simple colonial life. But Bob only laughed now.
+
+"Oh, nothing wrong at all," he replied. "Mater is right enough; it
+is only Trix who is the trouble now. She doesn't seem to pick up
+after that last bout of fever, and she is so awfully depressed and
+lonely, mother thought if you would let me take a couple of the
+children--Nesta and another--back with me for a week, it might
+brighten the kiddy up. Could you spare them, Mrs. Orban?"
+
+"With pleasure," began Mrs. Orban readily, when Nesta started a
+sort of war-dance with accompanying cries of delight.
+
+"When you have quite done!" said Bob, with a solemn stare that
+quelled the disturbance after a moment. "I shan't have an ear to
+hear with by the time I get home, at this rate. Well, who is the
+other one to be? You, Eustace?"
+
+Eustace coloured deeply. There was nothing he would have liked
+better. To go to the Highlands, as the Cochranes' plantation was
+called, was the greatest pleasure that could have been offered
+him--the treat had only come his way about twice in his life. It
+meant so much--rides with Bob, shooting with Bob, long rambles
+always with his hero.
+
+"I should like to awfully," he said, and stopped, looking
+beseechingly at his father.
+
+"Why, what's the matter, old chap?" asked Bob in a kindly voice.
+"You're as limp as if all the starch had been boiled out of you.
+Come along if you want to, of course. Peter can come another time,
+if it's afraid of being selfish that you are."
+
+"But it isn't that," Eustace said with difficulty. "I mean I can't.
+You see, father is going away, and I couldn't leave mother."
+
+Bob darted a quick look at Mr. Orban.
+
+"Are you really going away?" he asked--"any distance, I mean?"
+
+"Unfortunately, yes," Mr. Orban said gravely. "I have to be away
+about a fortnight or three weeks. I go the day after to-morrow."
+
+Bob looked serious.
+
+"Oh, I say," he said, "I'm sorry."
+
+To Nesta, standing there in the sunshine, with a great big pleasure
+ahead of her, the words conveyed nothing beyond a civil sympathy
+with the annoyance it must be to Mr. Orban to have to go away on
+business. To Eustace, who must stay behind, there was something
+underlying those few words that brought back all the fears of the
+day before.
+
+"It is a nuisance, but it can't be helped," Mr. Orban said;
+"business won't wait."
+
+"I am sorry," repeated Bob, with that same strange solemnity,
+"because I can't offer to come and stay here while you are away.
+Father is going away too, and of course I couldn't leave the mater
+and Trix. If only it hadn't happened just now--"
+
+"It is very good of you to think of it, Bob," said Mrs. Orban, "but
+of course we shall be perfectly safe. I think I would rather you
+took Peter, though," she added in a lower tone. "Eustace is more
+companionable. I can spare one of the twins, but not both at once."
+
+"Of course," agreed Bob.
+
+He was strangely unlike his usual cheerful self, but he roused
+himself, as every one seemed to be looking at him, and added,
+"Could the children be ready to go back with me soon?"
+
+"Stay till the heat is over, and drive home in the cool with them,"
+suggested Mr. Orban. "I'll say good-bye for the present; I'm due at
+the plantation."
+
+Eustace was left alone with Bob, for the others went with their
+mother to watch her preparations for their departure.
+
+"Well, old man," questioned Bob from the depths of a cane chair,
+where he had flung himself for a quiet smoke, "what's up?"
+
+Eustace stood staring at him.
+
+"I say," he said with some difficulty, "it's beastly about father
+going, isn't it?"
+
+"Rather," said Bob carelessly. "Mrs. Orban will feel awfully dull."
+
+"That isn't the worst of it," said the lad mysteriously.
+
+"Really?" questioned Bob indifferently, as he packed his pipe with
+great apparent interest.
+
+"You know it isn't, Bob," Eustace broke out desperately.
+
+"Do I?" questioned Bob lazily, but with a shrewd glance at the
+thin, pale face before him. "Why, what's the trouble?"
+
+"It's the black-fellows," Eustace said in a half whisper.
+
+Bob raised his eyebrows a little, and was again attentive to his
+pipe.
+
+"Indeed?" he said; "what about them?"
+
+"They are all round us in the scrub; you never know where they
+are," Eustace said with a gulp.
+
+"They always are, and one never does," said Bob lightly. "I don't
+see that it matters. Are you in a funk about them?"
+
+The cool question brought crimson to Eustace's cheeks.
+
+"No," he said sturdily, "but they are a fearfully low grade lot,
+and--and they have done some awful things in lonely places, out of
+revenge, on white people."
+
+Bob looked up sharply.
+
+"What do you know about it?" he asked in a voice that sounded
+almost stern.
+
+"The servants--Kate and Mary--have told us stories," Eustace
+explained.
+
+"Oh, they have, have they?" Bob positively snorted in indignation.
+"Then they deserve to be sacked."
+
+He was silent a long time, puffing out volumes of smoke, then he
+said suddenly,--
+
+"Look here, Eustace, don't get stupid and frightened about the
+black-fellows. Your father has never done them any harm; they have
+nothing to revenge here, for he hasn't interfered with any of
+them."
+
+"But Kate says that doesn't matter," Eustace said dismally. "She
+says they have a deadly hatred against all white people."
+
+"Kate is an ignorant goose," growled Bob; "much she can know about
+it! Why, my father has had black-fellows in his employment for
+years, and they've been all right. Don't you listen to Kate's
+nonsense."
+
+There was silence awhile, then Bob went on,--
+
+"But I tell you what I'll do, if it will be any comfort to Mrs.
+Orban. I'll come over nearly every day and hang about the place as
+if I were living here. How would that do?"
+
+"I should like it, of course, and I believe mother would," said the
+boy slowly.
+
+"Of course you would be all right anyhow," Bob said bracingly.
+
+"Of course," repeated Eustace with less certainty, hesitated, then
+went on haltingly, "but supposing--of course I believe you,
+Bob--but just only supposing one night some black-fellows did turn
+up, what should you do?"
+
+"I should shoot them," Bob said promptly.
+
+"But if you were me?" questioned Eustace.
+
+"Oh, if I were you," repeated Bob thoughtfully. "Well, of course,
+you wouldn't shoot them--they wouldn't be scared enough of a chap
+your size. On the whole, I think if I were you I should scoot down
+the hill as hard as I could go for Robertson, Farley, and Ashton.
+They would soon settle matters."
+
+"But that would be leaving mother to face them alone," objected
+Eustace.
+
+Bob stared solemnly for one moment, then broke into a laugh.
+
+"Cheer up, old boy," he exclaimed; "you look as if you had a whole
+tribe at your heels this minute. Why, what has happened to you? I
+thought you had more spirit than to be scared by a pack of silly
+maids' stories."
+
+The laugh was so genuine, the look in Bob's eyes so quizzical, that
+Eustace felt suddenly abashed, and as if he had been making a
+stupid fuss about nothing. With all his heart he wished he had not
+mentioned the subject to Bob--Bob whose opinion he valued above all
+others, except, perhaps, his own father's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE BAREFOOT VISITOR.
+
+
+When Mr. Orban came home to dinner he brought with him another
+excitement--the mail letters that Hadji ought to have brought with
+the parcel the day before.
+
+To Bob Cochrane, whose parents were Australian born and bred, this
+meant nothing; but he was so intimate with the Orbans that he
+understood their feelings on the subject. He sat silently puffing
+at his pipe while Mr. and Mrs. Orban read their letters. Eustace,
+Nesta, and Peter had seized on some packets which they knew to
+contain English papers and magazines.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Orban gave a curious exclamation, and all eyes were
+turned questioningly upon her.
+
+"Mother, mother, what is it?" cried Nesta, noting the colour
+flooding her mother's usually pale face.
+
+"Any news, darling?" asked Mr. Orban.
+
+"I should just think it is news," said Mrs. Orban unsteadily.
+"Listen to this, Jack: 'Dorothy has been so very slow in her
+recovery from the terrible bout of typhoid she had in spring that
+the doctor advises a long sea voyage at once, and we have decided
+to send her out to you by the first boat available. We go up to
+London to-morrow to get her outfit.'"
+
+"Aunt Dorothy!" yelled the children. "Aunt Dorothy coming here!"
+
+It was a most surprising piece of news, almost incredibly so. The
+children had never seen any of their parents' people, as none of
+them had been over to Queensland. They knew them only by name and
+the oft-repeated tales of childhood, which were their favourite
+stories of all Mr. and Mrs. Orban told.
+
+This was their mother's unmarried sister, Dorothy Chase, who lived
+with her father and mother in Herefordshire, in the "old home" the
+children knew so well by hearsay, and longed so much to see. Some
+one coming out from England was next best to going home, and the
+news produced the wildest commotion of questions and suggestions.
+
+"When will she come, mother? When can she be here?" came in chorus.
+
+"Well, I am sure I don't know," Mrs. Orban said; "but it seems to
+me she will not be very far behind this letter."
+
+"Not more than a fortnight, I should think," said Mr. Orban. "You
+see they are hurrying her off."
+
+"O mummie, this is exciting!" Nesta exclaimed. "Do tell us how old
+Aunt Dorothy is!"
+
+"Just twenty-three. She was a little child when I last saw her, and
+I can never picture her grown up."
+
+"Twenty-three is a decent age for girls," said Eustace.
+
+"Out of a vast and varied experience speaks Sir Eustace," laughed
+Bob--and Eustace reddened.
+
+"Twenty-three," said Mr. Orban. "Fancy little Dot twenty-three!
+There'll be a big change in her."
+
+"There must be a big change in every one, Jack," Mrs. Orban sighed.
+"What wouldn't I give to see them all!"
+
+"The next thing we shall hear," remarked Bob solemnly, "is that you
+will be clearing out to England--the whole lot of you. I don't
+think I like the idea of Miss Dorothy coming at all. She will
+bewitch you, and off you will all go."
+
+"No such luck," cried Nesta impulsively.
+
+"Alas! an impossibility," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+Mr. Orban said nothing, but looked very grave.
+
+These few words, however, could only shadow the great excitement a
+moment. Mrs. Orban returned to her letter, and read interesting
+little scraps from time to time, such as "'I am cudgelling my
+brains in the hurry to think of everything I can send you--it is
+such a grand opportunity--I wish I had time to get a list of wants
+from you--but I dare say nothing will come amiss. Frocks for the
+girls and yourself, of course--'"
+
+"Darling gran!" cried Nesta.
+
+"Then I needn't get the duster stuff," said Mr. Orban.
+
+"No, none of the clothes," said Mrs. Orban. "I know what grannie is
+when she gets a chance to send a box."
+
+Nesta and Peter went off in high spirits with Bob later in the day,
+Nesta exacting many promises that should Aunt Dorothy by some
+miracle appear before she was expected, Mrs. Orban would send for
+the children back.
+
+Eustace let the party go without a pang; he was actually glad not
+to be going. So taken up was he with the new idea that he even
+forgot his fear lest he had made a bad impression on the great Bob.
+
+There was so much to be thought of in the preparations for Miss
+Chase's arrival that even Mr. Orban's departure two mornings later
+left no one depressed. Up to the last Mrs. Orban was wondering
+whether there was anything she could think of that could be brought
+from Brisbane for their visitor's greater comfort.
+
+"She will be used to such a different life," Mrs. Orban said. "I do
+hope she won't mind roughing it."
+
+"Not she," said Mr. Orban heartily. "She will like it all the
+better if we make no changes for her, but just let her see life as
+we live it. After all, it is only for a time with her."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, my darling old man," said Mrs. Orban gaily that evening, as
+she and Eustace sat alone at late dinner, "how does it feel to be
+'man of the house'? Do you feel a great burden of responsibility as
+mummie's guardian and protector?"
+
+"I don't know, mummie," said Eustace.
+
+He was looking very grave, for now that the lamps were lighted and
+it was dusk outside everything felt different again.
+
+The veranda ran round the entire house; only on one side was there
+a flight of steps down to the ground. The drawing-room opened out
+on to the other side of the house, facing the sea. It was here Mrs.
+Orban and Eustace went after dinner, for the day had been
+exhaustingly hot, and now a slight breeze blew landwards.
+
+But for the rustling of leaves and a distant murmur from the
+plantation, the night was very still. As she meant to go to bed so
+early, Mrs. Orban did not have lamps brought out on to the veranda;
+she and Eustace sat close together in the gloom, their only light a
+faint golden streak from the drawing-room.
+
+Becky had been in bed a long time, and was fast asleep. For a while
+they could hear the servants clearing away the dinner; then there
+was silence even in that quarter, and they knew that Mary and Kate
+had gone to bed.
+
+"We ought to be going too, I think, my man," Mrs. Orban said
+softly.
+
+Eustace slipped down on to a stool at her feet and rested his head
+against her knee.
+
+"O mummie," he pleaded, "not just yet. Couldn't you tell me a story
+first?"
+
+"I could, of course," Mrs. Orban admitted slowly, "but the question
+is, Ought I to? It is getting late for you."
+
+"But it is awfully early for you," Eustace argued. "I don't believe
+you will sleep if you go now. You always say you can't if you go to
+bed too soon. You see, we needn't get up quite so early, as father
+isn't here to go out to the plantation."
+
+"That is true," said Mrs. Orban with a laugh. "I really think we
+shall have to make a barrister of you, Eustace, you plead a cause
+so eloquently. But what kind of story shall I tell you?"
+
+"Oh, one of the old home stories, please," he said instantly. "I
+should like to know all I can about it before Aunt Dorothy comes."
+
+"I wonder if there are any I have not told you," Mrs. Orban said
+thoughtfully.
+
+"There must be hundreds," Eustace said. "I always think Maze Court
+must have stories without end."
+
+"We used to think so, I remember," said his mother; "but I suppose
+that is always the case with a house when one family has possessed
+and occupied it for so many generations."
+
+"It is a sixteenth-century house, isn't it?" Eustace asked.
+
+"Seventeenth century," was the answer, "built in 1688 by Eustace
+Chase, a loyal subject of the king. His father lost everything for
+the cause, and the young man was rewarded for following the
+Royalist fortunes--or rather misfortunes--soon after the king came
+to his own again."
+
+Eustace gave a huge sigh.
+
+"I do like belonging to people like that," he said with
+satisfaction.
+
+There was a long silence.
+
+"Mummie--the story," prompted Eustace at last.
+
+"I was just hunting my memory for one," said his mother. "Did you
+ever hear how we lost Aunt Dorothy?"
+
+Eustace shook his head and settled himself comfortably to listen,
+so Mrs. Orban went on:--
+
+"One summer we gave a large party for young people. It happens that
+several of us have birthdays in the summer, and this was a sort of
+combined birthday treat. So we invited friends varying in age from
+five, suitable for Dorothy, to seventeen or eighteen, and a very
+merry party it promised to be. The day began gloriously, but father
+prophesied it was going to be too hot to be perfect; and he was
+right. About the middle of the afternoon thunder-clouds gathered
+quickly, and by tea-time there was a raging storm; but it was as
+short as it was sharp, and all over in an hour. There was no
+question as to going out again, the ground was too sopping wet
+after the rain to dream of such a thing, so it was proposed that we
+should have a good game of hide-and-seek all over the house. I wish
+I could tell you what a lovely place home is for hide-and-seek.
+There are so many rooms with doors between that you can almost go
+the round of the house on any landing without coming out into the
+passage more than twice or three times. Then there are several
+staircases, and lastly the turret, which was always used for
+'home,' because it was a regular trap for hiding in. Once found,
+you could never get away from there."
+
+"O mummie," breathed Eustace softly, "how it does make me want to
+go and see it all."
+
+"I am glad it does, sonny," Mrs. Orban said. "I want you to want to
+go--I always pray some day you will. It is a home to be proud of."
+
+"Go on, please," said Eustace in the little pause that followed.
+
+"I don't think people ever get tired of hide-and-seek," Mrs. Orban
+continued. "It is the one game that seems to suit all ages--I mean
+among young people. We played on and on till dusk, and then the
+game was only stopped by people coming for or sending to fetch
+their children home. Just in the middle of the first 'good-byes,'
+mother, who had been entertaining grown-ups most of the afternoon,
+came and asked for Dorothy. No one knew where she was. 'Who had
+seen her last?' It was impossible to find out, but apparently she
+had not been seen by any one for a long time. Dorothy at five years
+old was a very independent little person, and resented being
+obviously looked after. She always liked to hide by herself, for
+instance. Well, then, there began a game of hide-and-seek in real
+earnest, and it became more and more serious every minute, when
+white-faced groups met in the hall declaring that every corner had
+been searched, and still there was no trace of Dorothy."
+
+"Didn't grannie nearly go mad?" asked Eustace feelingly. He well
+knew what the loss of Becky would mean to his mother.
+
+"Very nearly," was the answer; "but I think your grandfather was
+even worse. All the tiny children were taken home, but many of the
+elder boys and girls begged to be allowed to stay and help, and now
+the hunt began outside with lanterns among outhouses and stables.
+The echoes rang with Dorothy's name, but in vain; the hunt was
+useless, and some of us straggled back into the house and began
+calling and looking all over the same ground again. I cannot tell
+you what terrible thoughts had got into our heads by that time. We
+remembered the story of the lady who hid herself in the old spring
+chest and could not get out--"
+
+"The Mistletoe Bough lady," breathed Eustace.
+
+"Yes; and we hunted every box, chest, and cupboard in the house,
+but Dorothy was in none of them. She seemed literally to have been
+spirited away. It became so late that at last all the other
+children were taken home, and we were left just ourselves--a very
+miserable family."
+
+Eustace sat up suddenly and held his breath, his face blanched, his
+eyes alert.
+
+"At last, close on midnight," Mrs. Orban went on in a low voice.
+
+"Mother, mother," Eustace said in a sharp whisper, kneeling and
+putting an arm protectingly round her, "did you hear something?"
+
+"Yes, darling," Mrs. Orban continued, "close on midnight--"
+
+"No, no," Eustace said, "not then--now--this minute, as you were
+speaking!"
+
+Mrs. Orban started perceptibly.
+
+"No, darling," she answered. "Why? Did you?"
+
+There was an instant's tense silence.
+
+"It is some one coming round the veranda--barefoot," Eustace
+whispered.
+
+"One of the maids, perhaps," said Mrs. Orban, but her voice
+quivered.
+
+"They would come through the house," said the boy. "This fellow has
+come up the veranda steps. I heard them creak."
+
+A lifetime in great solitude sharpens the hearing to the most
+extraordinary extent. Children born and brought up in the wilds
+often have this sense more keenly developed than any other. The
+Orban children seemed to hear without listening--sounds which, even
+when she was told of them, Mrs. Orban, with her English training,
+did not catch till several minutes later.
+
+But now the pad-pad-pad of bare feet was unmistakable--a
+pad-pad-pad, then a halt, as if the visitor stopped to listen.
+
+Below in the scrub--that wild thick undergrowth among trees,
+harbouring so many strange creatures--there were hoarse cries, and
+now and then the howl of a dingo, so horribly suggestive of a human
+being in an agony of pain.
+
+The pair on the veranda clung together for an instant--one only.
+
+"I must go to Becky," whispered Mrs. Orban, recovering herself.
+
+But Eustace held her down.
+
+"Oh, don't--don't for one moment," he implored; "wait and see what
+it is."
+
+"Pad-pad-pad" came the steps, nearer and nearer. A shadow fell
+aslant the corner of the veranda--the shadow of a man thrown by the
+light from the drawing-room side window.
+
+[Illustration: The shadow of a man fell aslant the corner of the
+veranda.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A NIGHT OF TERROR.
+
+
+"Mrs. Orban," called a voice softly--a familiar English-speaking
+voice; "Mrs. Orban, are you still up?"
+
+Mother and son fell apart, and Eustace sprang to his feet.
+
+"Why, it is Bob!" he exclaimed in bewilderment.
+
+"Bob!" cried his mother. "Impossible!"
+
+"Not a bit," said Bob Cochrane, coming round into the streak of
+lamplight, carrying his boots in his hands. "I just strolled over
+to see if you were all right. When I got to the steps it struck me
+I might startle you if I came thundering up, so I took my boots off
+and crept round to find out where you were. You were so quiet I
+thought you must have gone to bed and left the lights burning."
+
+"We were talking, nevertheless, when you arrived," Mrs. Orban said,
+"for I was telling Eustace a story."
+
+"I didn't hear you," Bob said. "Probably my heart was in my mouth,
+and beating so loud that it deafened me; for, of course, I knew I
+carried my life in my hand."
+
+"Your life in your hand?" repeated Eustace wonderingly.
+
+"Certainly. I felt sure you would bound on me with a revolver the
+moment you heard me, shoot me dead, and then demand an explanation.
+It is the sort of ardent thing one might expect from a knight of
+your order, Sir Eustace."
+
+Bob's chaff went deeper home than he meant it to. Eustace was in no
+mood for joking after the strain of the last few minutes. He hoped
+with all his heart that Mrs. Orban would not betray to Bob how
+terror-stricken he had just shown himself. Perhaps she understood,
+or it may be that she was half ashamed of her own unnecessary
+panic, for she only said,--
+
+"It is really very good of you to have come in the face of that
+grave peril, and at such an hour too."
+
+"Well, the fact is I wanted to," Bob said in his casual way, "and
+the mater insisted. I've left our old foreman sleeping in the house
+for to-night, and I thought I would just turn in with Eustace, if
+you don't mind."
+
+"We shall be simply delighted," Mrs. Orban said, with a feeling of
+real relief.
+
+"The mater wants me to take you all back to the Highlands early
+to-morrow," Bob went on; "you, Becky, and Eustace. She can't bear
+to think of your loneliness here. Do come and stay with us till Mr.
+Orban comes back."
+
+It was the kind of thought good, homely little Mrs. Cochrane was
+celebrated for. But Mrs. Orban shook her head.
+
+"It is just like your mother to think of such a thing," she said,
+"and just like her son to be her messenger so readily, but I can't
+do it, Bob. I couldn't possibly leave the maids and the house to
+take care of themselves. Mary and Kate would be terrified."
+
+"Oh, bother Mary and Kate!" said Bob.
+
+"I should be _most_ bothered if they took it into their heads to
+run away and leave us, especially now that my sister is coming. No,
+really, I cannot leave home, much as I should enjoy it. Your
+mother, as an experienced housekeeper, will feel for me in that."
+
+"We forgot the maids and the house," said Bob in a disappointed
+tone.
+
+"It can't be helped," said Mrs. Orban lightly; "and, indeed, we are
+quite all right. There is nothing to be afraid of, and I have
+Eustace.--Which reminds me, old man, hadn't you better be off to
+bed? This is considerably later than I meant you to be."
+
+"Oh but, mother," Eustace exclaimed, "what about Aunt Dorothy? I
+couldn't sleep without the rest of that story."
+
+"Oh yes, do let's have the rest of the story first," pleaded Bob.
+
+"There isn't much left now," said Mrs. Orban. "I was only telling
+him how we once lost Dorothy in a game of hide-and-seek when she
+was five years old. We had been hunting the house for hours; a sort
+of awful silence had fallen among us, as if we were expecting I
+don't know what--"
+
+"When close upon midnight," quoted Eustace in a mysterious voice.
+
+"There arose the cry of a terror-stricken child--shriek upon
+shriek--feeble because of the distance it was from the great hall,
+where we were all mustered in shivering silence, but distinct
+enough to be recognized as Dorothy's voice. I shall never forget
+it--it makes me shudder now--for the panic in that child's cry was
+appalling. What was being done to her? What awful pain was she in
+that she should shriek in such a way? Such were our thoughts as we
+hurried in a tumbling mass after father and mother. We reached the
+turret stairs, and father commanded every one with lanterns to go
+first and light the way. Right to the very top we went, into the
+little round room we called the Watchman's Nest, and here the
+sounds were loudest; but they were still muffled, and there was not
+a sign of Dorothy anywhere."
+
+"Was there any furniture for her to hide in?" asked Eustace,
+looking puzzled.
+
+"One table, one chair," said Mrs. Orban, "and a small black oak
+cupboard against the inner wall--it would have just about held
+Dorothy on the lower shelf. We opened it, flashed in our lanterns,
+but it was black and empty. One peculiar feature there was about
+it--when the cupboard door was open we heard the child more
+clearly. It seemed a stupid, senseless thing to do, but down I went
+on my hands and knees to feel those empty shelves, as if I imagined
+Dorothy might be there in spite of our seeing nothing--invisible
+but tangible. Of course there was nothing but wood to touch; but
+with my head inside there, I could hear Dorothy so well I might
+have been in the same room with her."
+
+"How queer!" Eustace broke out excitedly.
+
+"'Dorothy, Dorothy,' I shouted. 'Mother--I want mother, mother,
+mother,' she shrieked. 'Where are you? Tell us where you are,' I
+called. 'I want mother, mother, mother,' was the only answer.
+'Mother is here,' I said; and again, 'Tell us where you are.'
+Something made me feel the cupboard again, and this time I did not
+only touch the shelves, but put my hand right back. 'Quick, quick!
+a lantern,' I simply screamed, and half a dozen were lowered
+instantly. There was no back to the cupboard on the lower shelf.
+The blackness we had mistaken for the old oak was just
+nothingness--a deep, deep hollow into the wall."
+
+"Mother," Eustace cried, "a secret chamber!"
+
+"A secret chamber that no one had ever suspected; and Dorothy it
+was who had found it."
+
+"But how?" The question came from Bob Cochrane.
+
+"She was the most daring child I have ever known," said Mrs. Orban.
+"I don't think Dorothy knew what fear meant in those days. She knew
+that scarcely any one ever searched the turret, because it was
+difficult to get away from, and it entered her small head to creep
+up to the Watchman's Nest and into this cupboard. Whether she went
+to sleep waiting for us to find her, or whether she rolled over at
+once and fell down the little flight of steps into the secret
+chamber, to lie there stunned, no one knows. Dorothy could not
+explain herself. Anyhow, there she was, and the moment she came to
+her senses and found herself in the dark she began to scream with
+fright."
+
+"But how was it no one had ever discovered the secret chamber
+before?" demanded Eustace. "It seems funny."
+
+"You would not think so if you saw the cupboard," Mrs. Orban said.
+"It is a little, insignificant-looking thing--low and rather deep,
+and, as we then found, built into the wall. The back of the lower
+shelf was a sliding panel; and your grandfather's theory is that
+the last person who used the secret chamber left the panel open.
+Without nearly standing on one's head it was impossible to see the
+back of the lower shelf, and no one had ever suspected such a
+thing."
+
+"O Bob, Bob, wouldn't you just like to see Maze Court?" cried
+Eustace. "I shall never be happy till I do."
+
+"I tell you you will all be off on Miss Dorothy's broomstick one of
+these fine days," growled Bob. "She is a witch, and she has already
+bewitched you, for you can talk of nothing but England now."
+
+"You had better go to bed, Eustace," Mrs. Orban said with a laugh.
+"Bob is getting quite fierce."
+
+Bob left very early next day to get back to work. As Nesta and
+Peter were having holidays, Eustace, of course, did no lessons, but
+spent the day very contentedly helping his mother. She was busy
+rearranging furniture in the room that was to be Miss Chase's, and
+they scarcely sat down the whole day till evening.
+
+"Early to bed this night, my son," said Mrs. Orban as they left the
+dinner-table. "I expect you will sleep like a top."
+
+He was looking sleepy already, and a quarter of an hour later went
+very readily to his room, with a parting entreaty to his mother
+that she would not sit up late.
+
+"Not I," was the laughing rejoinder. "I promise you I will only
+write one little line to father and begin my mail letter to
+grannie, and then I will go to bed."
+
+This Mrs. Orban did, and being very tired she fell asleep almost as
+soon as her head touched the pillow.
+
+For several hours a great silence reigned over the house; but even
+when it was broken by the soft pad-pad-pad of bare feet creeping
+stealthily round the veranda, the sleepers lay utterly unconscious.
+The stairs had not creaked under the weight of this figure; it cast
+no shadows, for there was no light either within the house or
+without. At every window it halted, listened, peered in, as if it
+had the eyes of a cat to see with in the dark.
+
+First came the dining-room, and next it the room in which Eustace
+and Peter slept. Round the corner were Mrs. Orban's room and part
+of the drawing-room. At the other corner was Nesta's room, where
+Miss Chase would also sleep, and next to that the servants' room.
+
+The strange visitor made a complete tour of the veranda and reached
+the stair again.
+
+Eustace was dreaming vividly. He was out with Nesta and Becky.
+Becky had been specially entrusted to their care, and they had been
+told only to go a little way into the scrub. As a rule the children
+were not allowed to go into the scrub without a grown-up in charge,
+for there were dangers among the thick bushy undergrowth known by
+this odd name. For one thing, snakes abounded there; for another,
+it was only too easy to lose one's bearings, wander farther and
+farther into the wood, and eventually die of thirst and
+starvation, utterly unable to find the way home again. To Eustace's
+distraction, in his dream Becky would insist on playing
+hide-and-seek, and kept constantly disappearing and returning,
+flitting on in front of them now and again like a will-o'-the-wisp.
+
+"We mustn't let her do it," Eustace exclaimed. "Run, Nesta; we must
+catch her."
+
+But the faster they ran, the farther Becky went; it was
+extraordinary how fast she could go.
+
+"I can't keep up," Nesta panted.
+
+"Just like a girl," puffed Eustace back, for he was getting
+exhausted himself.
+
+Then Becky disappeared right out of sight, and though Eustace
+called her till the echoes rang again and again with her name,
+there came no answer.
+
+"Now I guess we shall all be lost," thought Eustace desperately.
+
+He was rushing madly hither and thither, when suddenly he heard a
+blood-curdling yell not very far off. It was followed by another
+and another, till his heart stood still with terror.
+
+"Of course," he said, pulling himself together with all his might,
+"she must be in the secret chamber. I never thought of that."
+
+But even as the notion flashed into his mind he knew how silly it
+was to think of a secret chamber in the Bush. He was so paralyzed
+by the awfulness of the sounds that for a moment he could not move;
+but at last, with a mighty effort, he forced himself to dart
+forward in the direction whence the cries came.
+
+A second later he was fighting blindly with some thing that clung
+unpleasantly to him. It took him a moment to realize that this was
+the mosquito net round his bed. He was out on the floor in his own
+room at home. He had been dreaming, and was now awake; but the
+screams continued, and were most horribly real. It was not Becky's
+voice--no child could have cried like that.
+
+There was a door from his room into Mrs. Orban's, and through this
+the boy dashed.
+
+"Mother, mother," he cried, "what is happening?"
+
+There was a light in the room. Mrs. Orban was standing with a look
+of terror on her face.
+
+"I don't know," she said unsteadily.
+
+"It has been going on for ages," Eustace whispered.
+
+But Mrs. Orban shook her head. "It has only just begun," she said.
+"I must go and see what is the matter."
+
+Eustace was haunted by his dream--a second in a dream is equivalent
+to hours of real life.
+
+"O mother, don't go!" he exclaimed in an agonized voice, and clung
+to her.
+
+"I must," was the answer, and gently but firmly Mrs. Orban put the
+boy from her. "Perhaps one of the servants is ill. At least they
+are both frightened, and need me. Stay here with Becky."
+
+The words were hardly out of her mouth when the door burst open,
+and in rushed Mary, followed by Kate. Both girls looked half mad
+with fear.
+
+"O ma'am, ma'am," they cried, piecing out the tale between them,
+"there was a black-fellow in our room. He has stolen our watches
+from under our pillows, and everything he could find before we
+woke, and he was pulling the rings off Mary's finger when she felt
+him and jumped out of bed. But he got the rings, and we don't know
+where he is--somewhere about the house--and maybe there are others
+with him. O ma'am, whatever shall we do? We shall all be murdered
+in our beds."
+
+"Nonsense, you silly girls," said Mrs. Orban, with sudden
+sternness; "we can't possibly be murdered in our beds when we are
+all out of them."
+
+Even in the stress of the moment Eustace could not help being
+struck by the humour of the assertion, but he was in no mood for
+laughing.
+
+Creeping to the window, he peered out, to find that it was no
+longer pitch dark; there was a sufficient glimmer of light to have
+enabled their uninvited guest to do all that the servants
+described.
+
+By this time Becky was awake and howling. Her mother took her into
+her arms and soothed her gently.
+
+"As to what we shall do," Mrs. Orban said in that same firm tone;
+"we must all stay here till daylight together. If there are thieves
+about the house, we can do nothing to check them. They will not
+hurt us if we don't interfere. There is nothing to be done but to
+behave as little like cowards as we can manage."
+
+"But black-fellows do such--" began Kate.
+
+"Hold your tongue, Kate," said the usually gentle Mrs. Orban, with
+sudden anger. "What good can it do to scare yourself and us by
+talking in such a way? We are in God's hands, don't forget that."
+
+"Mother," Eustace said, "has father got his revolver away with
+him?"
+
+"There are two in this room," Mrs. Orban replied. "Could you use
+one if necessary?"
+
+"Oh, for mercy's sake don't let Master Eustace have a gun in his
+hands!" said Mary. "There's no saying which of us he might shoot in
+mistake if he began playing with one."
+
+"Playing with one!" repeated Eustace scornfully; "why, father says
+my shooting is very good for my age."
+
+Mrs. Orban took a revolver from a cupboard and gave it into the
+boy's hands.
+
+"It is loaded," she said, and now there was the suspicion of a
+quiver in her voice; "but realize I am trusting you to be sensible.
+Don't shoot at random. Remember what Bob said last night. You are
+only to fire if terribly necessary. Now jump into Becky's bed, or
+you will be getting a chill and fever."
+
+From beneath her own pillow she drew out a second revolver,
+examined it, and set it on a table within easy reach.
+
+"Mother," said Eustace in surprise, "do you always sleep with a
+revolver under your pillow?"
+
+"Only when your father is away," was the reply. "Now, Mary and
+Kate, get into my bed. I am going to sit in this cosy chair with
+Miss Becky. We will talk and keep the light burning; but it is my
+belief nothing more will happen to-night."
+
+The maids obeyed, still looking terrified, and then Mrs. Orban
+seated herself, with Becky in her arms, near the table where the
+revolver lay.
+
+Thus they prepared to face the remaining hour of darkness,
+powerless to do anything, utterly helpless, with nerves strung to
+the highest possible pitch, and hearts that beat wildly at every
+sound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE FIRST SHOT.
+
+
+Mrs. Orban's words were brave, her whole bearing courageous, but
+she was more frightened than she had ever been in her life before.
+It is doubtful whether she really believed her own assertion that
+nothing more would happen that night, though she tried to. As a
+matter of fact her prophecy was correct. Scared by the screams of
+the women, the unpleasant guest must have promptly run away. He was
+probably alone, and, uncertain as to who was in the house, had fled
+from the chance of being peppered by a revolver.
+
+It was found in the morning that nothing was missing except the
+servants' watches, their few small trinkets that were lying on the
+dressing-table, and Mary's rings. The extraordinary silence with
+which he had perpetrated the theft, his skill in taking the rings
+off Mary's hand as it lay outside the coverlet, were not at all
+unprecedented--the natives were known to be silent and subtle as
+snakes in their doings.
+
+Mrs. Orban sent Eustace down to the plantation as soon as she knew
+every one would be astir. Mr. Ashton, the field manager, was
+suffering from fever, so that it was useless to go to him; but on
+hearing the story, Robertson, the chief engineer, returned with the
+boy to look into the matter.
+
+Investigations were in vain; the man had left no tracks around the
+house, no footprints on the veranda.
+
+The servants were so terrified that they declared they would not
+stay another night in the house. They wanted to be sent to Cooktown
+immediately--a five days' journey by sea. Robertson, a big burly
+Scotsman, roughly told them that such a thing was impossible. They
+could not get away for another week, when the schooner might be
+expected to bring provisions. He lectured them on their cowardice
+in wanting to run away and leave their mistress alone at such a
+time, but the girls would not listen to reason; they said they
+would hire horses and ride all the way to the first civilized place
+they could find.
+
+Then Mrs. Orban tried persuasion. Had they not better wait at least
+to see whether anything could be heard of their lost possessions?
+She would offer a reward to any one finding the thief or restoring
+the stolen goods to their owners--the offer should be made known
+all over the plantation.
+
+The suggestion carried the day, and the bargain was made. Mrs.
+Orban felt that at all costs she must keep the maids until Mr.
+Orban's return, for the work and the solitude would have been too
+much for her to stand, brave as she had proved herself to be.
+
+The offering of a reward was greatly against Robertson's advice. He
+pointed out that it would only prove an incentive to further
+robbery. The plantation hands were an unprincipled lot, and if
+they discovered that they could get money by stealing things and
+bringing them back, as if they had discovered them in the
+possession of some one else, there would be no end to the thefts,
+and no tangible means of getting hold of the thieves unless they
+were caught red-handed.
+
+But so anxious was Mrs. Orban to keep the servants that she
+disregarded Robertson's opinion, and the reward was duly offered.
+The engineer had one proposal to make, which was accepted. With
+Mrs. Orban's leave, he said, he, with his wife and two little
+children, would come up the hill and sleep in the house until Mr.
+Orban's return. There would be safety in numbers; and if the night
+visitor came again, some one to deal with him better than by
+screaming at him.
+
+In spite of the fuller house, and the fact that Robertson's
+eight-year-old boy was sleeping in Peter's bed that night, Eustace
+did not feel particularly happy in the hours of darkness before
+him, after the party had broken up and said good-night.
+
+The door between his mother's room and his own was left open, by
+way of companionship for them both, but the boy was so overtired as
+to be restless and unable to go to sleep. To his excited fancy
+there were unusual sounds about. The creaking of unwarping boards,
+the soughing of the night breeze round the house, even Sandy
+Robertson turning round in his bed, with an impatient but sleepy
+flump at the heat, were noises that set his hair on end and made
+him feel cold and damp all over again and again. Once or twice he
+stole from his bed to peer into his mother's room, but she always
+seemed asleep; or he would look stealthily out of the window, as if
+he could possibly have seen anything in the dark.
+
+Robertson, with his wife and baby, was in Nesta's room at the other
+side of the house. It occurred to Eustace that if anything did
+happen--anything needing immediate action--Robertson was very far
+away and ungetatable. The boy sat up in bed hugging his knees,
+making feverish plans as to what he should do supposing the night
+visitor came again and he should see him.
+
+Unknown to his mother, Eustace had taken the revolver he had been
+entrusted with the night before to bed with him. He meant to sleep
+with it under his pillow, but every time he got up to make his
+investigations he took it, gripped tightly in his hand ready for
+immediate use.
+
+When the first gray light stole into the room at last, Eustace
+began to feel drowsy. Almost against his will he lay back on his
+pillow and fell asleep. He had determined to watch the night
+through, but a great heaviness overpowered him, and he lay like a
+log.
+
+It seemed to him he had hardly closed his eyes--indeed, it cannot
+have been much later, for there was but little difference in the
+light--when a resounding pistol report rang through the silent
+house. Eustace awoke with an instant consciousness of having slept
+on his self-imposed sentry work. He felt queer and oddly shaken as,
+with a cry of dismay, he sprang out of bed and rushed into his
+mother's room.
+
+"Oh, what is it?" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, frightened out of her wits
+by the noise.
+
+She stared at Eustace, who stood, revolver in hand, gazing blankly
+round the room.
+
+"I don't know," he began, stopped abruptly, and added in a choked
+voice, "Oh, look! look!"
+
+He was staring towards the window. Outside on the veranda,
+crouching on all fours in the dusk, was a dark figure. With a
+strange, sudden movement it raised itself and stretched out an arm
+towards the room--standing lank, tall, and horribly sinister.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation Eustace raised his hand and fired.
+There was a splintering of glass, a wild howl of pain, and the
+figure dropped like a stone.
+
+"Eustace," cried Mrs. Orban in a horrified voice, "what have you
+done?"
+
+"I had to fire first," returned the boy in an odd, sullen tone.
+
+The figure outside moved, and with a succession of dreadful yells
+began rapidly crawling along the veranda towards the stairs.
+
+At the bedroom door appeared the entire household, Robertson
+leading the way, his usually ruddy face ghastly with astonishment.
+
+"What on earth is happening?" he asked, staring at Eustace and his
+mother.
+
+"I've shot something," Eustace faltered. "It is going down the
+steps--"
+
+Robertson waited to hear no more. Seizing the boy's revolver, he
+took a short cut through the house for the veranda steps.
+
+"What was it?" asked the frightened women, as they huddled together
+in the doorway.
+
+"I don't know," Eustace answered--"a black-fellow of some sort. I
+wonder if I--I killed him."
+
+There had fallen a sudden silence outside; the awful howling had
+ceased.
+
+Eustace sat down on the edge of his mother's bed feeling sick and
+shivery. To have killed a man--a white fellow, black-fellow, any
+sort of fellow; it was horrible!
+
+The most extraordinary sounds arose from the veranda. Had Robertson
+gone mad, or what could be the matter with him?
+
+"Ho-ho-ho! ha-ha-ha! ho-ho-ho-ho!" he roared.
+
+Every one stood as if paralyzed. There was something terribly
+uncanny about the laughter. It seemed so ill-timed, so jarring and
+unkind.
+
+Robertson appeared at the broken window.
+
+"Upon my word, Eustace," exclaimed the Scotsman, "it's the best
+joke ever I heard or saw. Come and look at your black-fellow and be
+proud of yourself."
+
+"I can't!" said Eustace, his knees knocking together as he
+attempted to stand, and he fell back on the bed.
+
+"Oh, what is it, Mr. Robertson?" asked Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Why, it's nothing but a miserable, half-starved dingo-dog that
+must have prowled up to the house in search of food," Robertson
+said. "You marked him well--I will say that for you, Eustace. He
+was dead before I could reach the steps."
+
+"Thank God it was not a human being," exclaimed Mrs. Orban.
+
+"A dingo!" cried Eustace, sitting up suddenly with a perplexed
+expression in his eyes. "Then who fired the first shot? I mean the
+one that woke me."
+
+The relief faded from Mrs. Orban's face. It was a startling
+question, an uncomfortable reflection that the first shot had not
+been accounted for.
+
+"Yes, by the way," she said, "there was that other shot. It seemed
+to come from Eustace's room, and I was frightened out of my wits. I
+was thankful to see him safe and sound a minute later."
+
+"I heard two shots distinctly," Robertson said, looking grave; "but
+of course I fancied Eustace had fired twice at the dingo."
+
+"Not I," said Eustace. "I never saw the beast till I came into
+mother's room; and I didn't fire till it stood up against the
+window and looked like a human being."
+
+"H'm," said Robertson. "It strikes me I had better have a look
+round. Just stay here till I come back."
+
+The women all looked scared. It was not a pleasant idea that the
+person who fired that first shot was possibly lurking about
+somewhere in the shadows. They listened breathlessly as Robertson
+made the tour of the house, momentarily expecting a fresh
+commotion, the firing of shots and a struggle. Mrs. Robertson was
+dreadfully upset, and held her two children close; the maids
+huddled together in a corner. Mrs. Orban stood, revolver in hand,
+near Becky's bed with such quiet dignity that somehow Eustace was
+steadied.
+
+The chances were that, finding himself hunted by Robertson, the man
+would try to effect an escape on to the veranda this way as a short
+cut to the steps.
+
+If the visitor were the same as that of the night before, it was
+all important he should be captured--otherwise this disagreeable
+night raid might be repeated.
+
+But no shots and no sound of a scuffle were heard. Robertson
+returned to say that he had investigated every nook and cranny that
+a man might have hidden in, and found no trace of any one having
+entered the house anywhere.
+
+The little gathering stared about with questioning, bewildered
+eyes, and no one felt any happier for the news. The fact remained
+that a shot had been fired by a mysterious being who had apparently
+vanished into air. For what purpose had that shot been fired? At
+what? At whom?
+
+"I can't make it out," said Robertson. "There seems no sense in a
+fellow coming and letting off fireworks in the middle of the night
+for nothing."
+
+"Perhaps it is a trick of some sort," suggested Mrs. Orban; "some
+one trying to frighten us. But I don't see that that is possible."
+
+"Nor I," said Robertson. "People aren't in the habit of playing
+practical jokes without some purpose in them hereabouts. All the
+same, it doesn't seem much good all of you staying up like this. If
+you'll just get back to your beds, I'll watch for the rest of the
+night. It may be a better way of trapping a chap, if he hasn't got
+clean away by now. That is the most likely thing, of course--his
+firearm probably went off inadvertently as he was coming round the
+veranda, and he knew he had done for himself, so made tracks at
+once. He might come back as soon as he thought the house was quiet
+again, but I don't expect him."
+
+No one felt much inclined to take Robertson's practical advice. At
+the same time it seemed foolish to stay up and exhaust themselves
+for nothing, and Mrs. Orban agreed that every one should go to bed.
+
+Eustace went very reluctantly. He would have liked to stay up and
+share Robertson's watch like a man; it seemed so childish to be
+sent to bed after taking part in such an excitement. He wondered
+what Nesta would have thought of it had she been there.
+
+"Goodness, wouldn't she have been scared!" he reflected. "I do
+wonder what she would have done."
+
+At least there would be plenty to tell her when she came home. She
+might be having a jolly time; but Eustace guessed, when it was all
+over, she would be disappointed at having been out of such
+adventures as these. There was a sort of glow about the realization
+that they were such very real adventures--experiences that did not
+come every day and to every one. The only stupid part about it was
+having to go to bed.
+
+Mrs. Orban felt no glow in her realization of the situation. She
+longed for her husband, and wondered how she was going to bear his
+absence much longer. If this sort of thing were to go on she felt
+that it would break her nerve entirely.
+
+Having kissed Eustace and sent him away, she felt too restless to
+get into bed. Sleep she knew would be impossible; and taking a
+book, she was just sitting down with the set purpose of making
+herself read awhile, in order to quiet her mind, when a sharp cry
+reached her from the next room.
+
+"Mother! mother!" Eustace cried, "come here--quick!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+BOB'S VERDICT.
+
+
+She found Eustace standing beside his bed staring at it in utter
+bewilderment.
+
+"My dearest boy, what is it?" she asked.
+
+"Why, look at that!" Eustace exclaimed, pointing down at the
+coverlet.
+
+From about the centre of the bed on the right side, down almost to
+the foot, was a long brown streak like a burn: the coverlet was cut
+and charred.
+
+Mrs. Orban stared at it in astonishment
+
+"What can it be?" she said.
+
+"I can't think," Eustace replied.
+
+"You had better fetch Robertson," Mrs. Orban said. "There is
+something very odd about this."
+
+"Don't you mind being left alone, mother?" Eustace asked, looking
+round anxiously, as if he thought an explanation of the mystery
+might jump from under a bed or out of a cupboard.
+
+"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Orban replied gravely.
+
+It amused her even in her anxiety that this slender scrap of
+fourteen should assume such an air of protection, but it touched
+her also, and she would not for worlds have let him fancy she could
+smile at him.
+
+Robertson hurried to the spot immediately, and when he saw the
+condition of the coverlet he looked utterly nonplussed.
+
+"Well, this is a queer state of things," he said, rubbing his head
+meditatively. "I never saw anything to equal it."
+
+Further examination proved that not only was the coverlet burnt
+right through, but the under clothes were scorched and crumbled
+like tinder at a touch.
+
+"It looks like the track of a shot," Robertson said; "but how could
+it come there?"
+
+"I don't know," Eustace said, "unless some one was kneeling on the
+floor at the foot of the bed and tried to shoot me without raising
+his hand. The shot sounded most awfully close."
+
+Robertson took a quick survey of the situation, ending with an
+examination of the wall at the head of the bed.
+
+"No," he said, "that couldn't be. The bullet would have gone into
+the pillow or lodged in the wall, but there isn't a sign of it.
+Seems to me it went the other way by the mark. It is broadest in
+the middle of the bed."
+
+He followed the line with his eye, then glanced across the room.
+
+"Why," he exclaimed, going over to the opposite wall, "here is the
+mark of the bullet--here is the bullet itself, deep in the wood.
+That shot went off from the middle of your bed, lad."
+
+Eustace looked incredulous, Mrs. Orban horrified. It was awful to
+think that the boy had been in such danger. The man who had fired
+that first alarming shot was close to him, perhaps bending over
+him, when inadvertently the weapon had gone off! The mother could
+picture it only too vividly, and she felt sick at the thought of
+the ghastly peril.
+
+"But what happened to the man?" questioned Eustace. "I was awake in
+a minute, and must have seen him."
+
+"Not if he ducked under the bed," suggested Mrs. Orban. "He must
+have been there when you came to me, and made his escape the
+instant you were out of the way."
+
+"Much more likely if he had knocked the youngster on the head to
+silence him," argued Robertson, as he stood toying with Mr. Orban's
+revolver. "I don't think that story will wash."
+
+Quite suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed aloud.
+
+"I have it," he said. "Eustace, you young rascal, what a scare you
+have given us!"
+
+"I!" exclaimed Eustace, with a touch of indignation in his tone.
+
+"Yes, you," was the reply. "Why, you fired that first shot
+yourself; I'll bet you anything you did. You only shot once at the
+dingo--there are two chambers empty in this revolver. Come, own up;
+where was the revolver when you went to sleep?"
+
+Eustace flushed crimson as the realization flooded his mind.
+
+"It was in my hand when I jumped out of bed," he said. "I--I do
+believe I went to sleep holding it. I dropped off suddenly."
+
+He remembered how inexplicably queer and shaken he had felt when he
+awoke. Now he came to think of it, he had been strangely jarred. A
+mere sound could scarcely have accounted for the feeling.
+
+"Well, that clears the whole mystery, then," said Robertson. "There
+is no one lurking about the house, and there hasn't been anything
+to be frightened about--except that you might have shot your own
+foot through, and lamed yourself for life."
+
+"He might have killed himself," said Mrs. Orban seriously. "It was
+a terribly dangerous thing to do."
+
+She said nothing more, for it was evident Eustace felt very small
+and uncomfortable. It was the tamest possible ending to what had
+promised to be such a stirring adventure--such a tale to tell!
+
+Presently, when he was left alone to try and get a little sleep
+before it was time to get up and dress, the full humiliation of it
+overcame him. What would his father say? and Nesta? and, worse and
+worse, Bob Cochrane? How he would be laughed at--teased! He would
+never be allowed to forget the dingo he had mistaken for a
+black-fellow; and he felt hot all over when he thought of that
+foolish shot--the cause of all the commotion.
+
+It was a very depressed Eustace who appeared at breakfast. He took
+Robertson's unabated amusement so gravely that the engineer stopped
+laughing at him, and wondered if the youngster were sulking.
+
+Mrs. Orban felt a good deal distressed to see how pale the boy was,
+and that he could hardly touch the food set before him. But every
+one showed signs of exhaustion, as was natural after two nights of
+such unusual strain. Mrs. Orban kept Eustace with her all day,
+setting him small jobs to keep him occupied. They all went to bed
+early that night, and the household slept without rocking.
+
+Next day, in the cool of the morning, Bob Cochrane rode over to
+inquire how the Orbans were getting on. Eustace heard him come--the
+boy was on the lookout for this particular visit--and as Bob walked
+round one side of the veranda, Eustace disappeared along the other,
+left a message with Mary that he was going down to the mill, and
+started away from the house at a run. The truth was, he felt he
+simply could not be present while Bob listened to the story of his
+absurd adventures; he wanted the narration to be over before he
+faced the fusillade of chaff with which the young fellow might
+pepper him. "He'll think me a silly little fool, I know he will,"
+Eustace told himself again and again; "and he'll say, 'What did I
+tell you about shooting recklessly?' I expect he'll think I'm a
+baby, not fit to be trusted with firearms. It's disgusting, just
+when I was hoping he might begin to think me worth taking out
+shooting with him soon."
+
+Thoroughly out of conceit with himself, Eustace wished he need not
+go home at all until Bob was certain to be gone. But no sooner did
+he reach the mill and begin wandering about the rooms full of
+machinery than it struck him it had been rather cowardly even to
+run away for a time. Bob would know he had not felt equal to facing
+him, and perhaps he would despise that as much as he was bound to
+be amused at the other. The lad had a sharp tussle with himself,
+and at last started back up the hill with the feelings of a most
+unwilling martyr going to the stake.
+
+He was about two-thirds of the way up when he caught sight of Bob
+Cochrane coming swinging down towards him. Bob was just the kind of
+fellow every boy wants to grow into--big, well-made, splendidly
+manly; he looked jolly in his riding-suit.
+
+"Hulloa!" he called as soon as he came within speaking distance.
+
+"Hulloa!" Eustace called back tonelessly, his heart thumping hard,
+his colour coming and going ridiculously.
+
+Bob waited till they met. Then, "Well, youngster," he said gravely,
+putting a big hand on the lad's shoulder and walking on beside him,
+"you've had a rough time since I saw you last. I don't wonder you
+shot at that dingo in the way you did; I should have done it
+myself, I believe, under the circumstances."
+
+Eustace's heart almost stopped beating, he was so surprised; he
+could not speak a word.
+
+"Of course that chap coming the night before put you all on edge,"
+proceeded Bob, "and you were flurried by the first shot. That might
+have been a nasty business too. Glad you didn't hurt yourself."
+
+There was another pause, but Bob did not seem to mind. He went on
+again presently,--
+
+"It is just this kind of thing, I always think, that gives one a
+bit of a useful warning: first, to be cautious; and second, to keep
+a cool head. You'll never go to sleep with a revolver ready cocked
+again, and another time you will give yourself a second's
+deliberation before you fire at anything looking like a man. It
+might have been Robertson making a tour of the house, you know."
+
+Eustace felt suddenly rather sick.
+
+"I never thought of that," he said.
+
+"Of course not," was the cheery response. "One doesn't look all
+round a question in a hurry, but one has to learn to remember there
+may be two sides to it. You'll get the hang of the idea one of
+these days. I know it was a long time before I gave up wanting to
+shoot down everything I didn't quite like the looks of. Sometimes
+it turns out well, sometimes pretty badly."
+
+He ended with a little laugh. Eustace, looking up into the merry,
+kindly face, knew that the awful time he had so dreaded was over,
+and it had not been an "awful time" after all. Bob did not think
+him a fool; he might have done the same himself, he said. He only
+warned him to be more careful another time, and gave him the
+reasons why he should.
+
+The boy had always admired this friend of the family; he positively
+glowed with pride at this minute that Bob was a friend of his own.
+Whatever might happen now, whoever might snub or laugh at him,
+Eustace had this comforting knowledge always at heart--Bob
+understood, and Bob was a man no one would laugh at.
+
+"He is a brick," thought the lad warmly. "I wish there was
+anything, anything in the world I could do to show him what a brick
+I think him. If ever there is, won't I just do it! The more
+dangerous it is the better."
+
+"I remember once having a pretty gruesome experience," said Bob,
+chatting on easily. "I expect you've never heard about it, because
+you were nothing but a kiddy at the time, and it has been
+forgotten lately. I was going home across our plantation with two
+other fellows late at night--much later than the mater liked us to
+be out. In order to be as quick as possible, when we got to the
+little line running to the mill we hoisted the trolley on to the
+rails and began pushing ourselves along at a great rate. It was the
+sort of darkness one can peer through, making things look weird and
+distorted, often much bigger than they really are."
+
+"Like the dingo."
+
+"Like the dingo. Well, we were getting along finely, when we got to
+rather a steep gradient and had to go slower up it. Near the top
+one of us suddenly caught sight of something unusual to the left of
+the line. It looked like a huge cowering figure, wide but not tall.
+Whether four-legged or two-legged it was impossible to say because
+of the gloom. It wasn't a nice feeling to have this thing silently
+waiting for one. We all boo'd and shoo'd first, thinking that if it
+were a beast of any sort it would scoot at the noise; but it didn't
+stir an inch or make a sound. We felt pretty creepy by then, for
+black-fellow tales were even commoner in those days than they are
+now. From the size of it we guessed it might have been a group of
+three men. Then we shouted, 'Hands up and declare yourself, or we
+fire!' But still the creature didn't move or speak."
+
+"My hat!" exclaimed Eustace sympathetically.
+
+"We had got to get past it somehow to reach home, for it wasn't
+likely we could stay there all night. We gave it two more chances,
+and then we fired for all we were worth. There were instantly
+shrieks, groans, and such horrible sounds that we waited for
+nothing more, but pushing our stakes into the ground, sent the
+trolley flying past the awful spot and down the next hill. How we
+didn't turn over and get killed down that incline I don't know--it
+was the one nearest home, you know, where one has to be so
+fearfully careful about putting on a brake as a rule. However, we
+got in all right, and gave a detailed account of our adventure.
+Every one was interested and puzzled. Father was a little inclined
+to laugh; he said it was probably the stump of a tree, but of
+course we had evidence against that in the genuine shrieks and
+groans following our shots. 'Well, we must just go first thing
+to-morrow,' father said, 'and look into the matter by daylight.'"
+
+"And did you?" asked Eustace eagerly.
+
+"Rather! I should just think we did--father, a friend of his who
+was staying with us, and the two boys I had been out with. We rode,
+and when we got to the spot the first thing we saw was the huge
+stump of a newly-felled tree, right in the very place we had seen
+the gruesome object."
+
+Eustace whistled.
+
+"But a tree couldn't shriek and groan," he objected.
+
+"So _we_ said when father began minutely examining the bark; and to
+our satisfaction there wasn't a single shot mark in the tree,
+though we must have fired half a dozen between us. 'We can't have
+seen this,' I said, feeling rather cock-a-hoopy; 'it must have been
+something nearer.' We were just all puzzling our heads over the
+matter when a Chinkee came running towards us from a group of huts
+not very far off. He was gesticulating and making a fearful fuss.
+We followed him in a fine state of excitement, and he led us to a
+little low shed with a railing before it. We looked in, and there
+lay two dead pigs!"
+
+"Two dead pigs!" cried Eustace.
+
+"Yes. It was pretty humiliating, for it just proved we had aimed at
+the tree and missed it. Instead, we shot the Chinkee's inoffensive
+pigs. It was many a long day before that joke was forgotten against
+us. Moreover, amongst us we had to scrape a pound together to pay
+the Chinaman for his loss. I never felt so small in my life."
+
+Eustace could well appreciate the sensation after his own
+experiences.
+
+Bob took a very light view of the real visit the Orbans had had
+from the black-fellow two nights before.
+
+"He wouldn't have hurt any one," said the young fellow. "He was
+nothing but a cowardly thief, or he wouldn't have behaved in the
+way he did. I'm only sorry you've offered a reward for the things;
+it will be an incentive to other fellows to do the same. However, I
+dare say, with Robertson sleeping up here, no one will venture
+again. I shouldn't worry if I were you, Mrs. Orban."
+
+"I will try not to," Mrs. Orban answered bravely.
+
+They had a quiet enough night again to warrant confidence, and
+every one felt rested and refreshed next day.
+
+Just after breakfast Kate appeared to tell her mistress that a
+Chinaman from the plantation wished to speak to her. His name was
+Sinkum Fung, and he was the plantation storekeeper, a man who
+thought a good deal of himself, but for lying and trickery, Mr.
+Orban declared, was no better than his neighbours the coolies who
+dealt at his shop.
+
+As soon as Sinkum Fung was shown on to the veranda, he did a good
+deal of bowing and scraping by way of politeness, and he had so
+much to say on the subject of his own unimpeachable integrity that
+it was a long time before Mrs. Orban could bring him to an
+explanation of his early visit. Both she and Eustace guessed he
+must be wanting to sell something, and probably hoped to drive a
+good bargain in Mr. Orban's absence, the cunning of the average
+Chinese being unsurpassed.
+
+After a considerable preamble, Sinkum began the following
+remarkable tale, all told in such strange Chinkee patter, and with
+so much self-praise interspersed, that it took the listeners' whole
+attention to unravel it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+PETER'S NIGHTMARE.
+
+
+Some nights before Sinkum Fung was sitting in his store waiting for
+customers. His best trade was always in the evening, when the
+coolies' work was over, and they had time to do some shopping. But
+it was getting late, and Sinkum thought it about time to close the
+store and go to bed. Suddenly there fell a shadow across the
+threshold, and a big black-fellow entered--a stranger whom Sinkum
+Fung had never seen before. What had he come to buy? Sinkum asked
+politely. But the black-fellow had come to buy nothing--he had a
+fierce, wild face, and his voice made Sinkum tremble when he said
+he had not come to buy, but to sell. He declared his name to be
+Jaga-Jaga of the great "Rat clan" now living in the Bush not far
+away. He had found, he said, a white man hanging in a tree, caught
+and held fast by the dreadful "wait-a-bit" cane that will swing
+round man or beast at a touch, and hold them fast till they die of
+exposure and starvation. This man was dead, and on his body,
+Jaga-Jaga said, he discovered sundry things which he now brought to
+the store to sell. What would Sinkum Fung give for them? The
+payment must be made in food, for the tribe were nearly starving.
+Food was difficult to procure in the intense heat; the ground was
+arid and unproductive.
+
+Sinkum examined the goods; he made his offer; whereat the wild man
+swung his boomerang disagreeably, and indicated that he must have
+"more, more." Tears of self-pity flooded Sinkum's eyes. He had no
+choice but to obey, and at last the black-fellow left with a sack
+containing ten times the value of the goods the storeman had been
+forced to buy. He had been cheated, cruelly used; he was a poor
+man, and could not stand such losses. The things were of no
+value--none; but if he had not bought them he would have been a
+dead man.
+
+Sinkum's hands were no longer in his sleeves--he had made dramatic
+passes, illustrative of the fearful fate that might have befallen
+him.
+
+It presented to Eustace's mind a vivid picture--the black-fellow
+with poised boomerang standing over the shrinking Chinkee,
+threatening his life if he did not obey the exorbitant demands.
+
+To Mrs. Orban came another thought. There apparently really were
+black-fellows in the neighbourhood--a whole tribe living in the
+Bush.
+
+The story of the poor white man strung up in the wood made the
+listeners shudder. Such a thing had never come into their
+experience, but they knew the terrible possibility of it. Many a
+man has been so detained in the Bush, riding inadvertently against
+the "wait-a-bit" or "lawyer cane." It springs round its victim like
+a coiled spring, and he is helpless to free himself if his arms
+happen to be pinioned. Who could this particular poor fellow have
+been, found not far from the plantation? No one would ever know,
+Mrs. Orban reflected pitifully.
+
+"And what were the things you had to buy, Sinkum Fung?" asked
+Eustace, with intense interest.
+
+Sinkum searched amongst his curious garments and produced a handful
+of things, which he set solemnly down upon the table beside Mrs.
+Orban, watching her narrowly, to see what effect his action
+produced.
+
+She gave a start of surprise.
+
+"Why," said Eustace, springing to his feet, "this is the servants'
+jewellery, and their watches. The black-fellow never got them off
+any dead white man at all; he stole them straight out of our
+house."
+
+Sinkum nodded drearily.
+
+So he had discovered, he said. When too late he had heard of
+the reward for the catching of that black-fellow. He could
+only claim the reward for returning the goods; but surely the
+good missee would not let him lose so much. He had given ten
+times the value of those things, and thus only had he saved
+them from the black-fellow.
+
+In his endeavour to point out that it was due to him, and him
+alone, the jewellery had reappeared, Sinkum Fung next fell
+into raptures over his own deeds. Had he but known that missee
+wanted the black-fellow too, he would have given his greatest
+treasure--his fine long pig-tail--to have detained him. He made
+the statement with a great air of devotion--a Chinaman does not
+part lightly with his pig-tail.
+
+But no amount of assurances would prevail on Mrs. Orban to give the
+man more than the promised regard. Any further claim he might have
+to make, she said, must be made to Mr. Orban on his return. Sinkum
+Fung went away in a transparently aggrieved frame of mind.
+
+"Mother," Eustace said, as soon as the man's footsteps died away
+round the veranda, "did you believe his story about the
+black-fellow?"
+
+"At first, yes," Mrs. Orban admitted. "I dare say such a thing is
+quite possible. I pictured the black-fellow bringing in a wallet
+containing the poor traveller's kit, a worn leather belt, with
+perhaps some money in it, a pipe and pouch."
+
+"Yes, that is what I expected," said Eustace.
+
+"Then one could have believed that Sinkum Fung might be taken in by
+the tale," Mrs. Orban went on; "but never tell me he believed it
+when he saw those trinkets. They are not the sort of things a
+Bushman would be carrying about with him, and Sinkum knows that as
+well as I do. He is no simpleton. His mistake was that he thought I
+might be one, and he overreached himself in his description of the
+ferocious Jaga-Jaga."
+
+"You don't even think Sinkum was terrified into buying the things?"
+Eustace asked.
+
+Mrs. Orban shook her head and smiled.
+
+"I very much doubt it," she said. "Indeed, I am inclined to fancy
+the thief was no black-fellow at all now. It is just as likely he
+was a Malay or Manila boy from the plantation, and Sinkum Fung is
+in collusion with him. They will probably go shares in the reward;
+but Sinkum meant to make as much more out of me for himself as he
+possibly could."
+
+"My word! if the other fellow comes again," said Eustace, "don't I
+just hope we shall catch him."
+
+"I am sure I hope and trust he will not come again," said Mrs.
+Orban gravely. "We have had quite as many disturbances already as I
+feel inclined for."
+
+Mary and Kate were delighted to get back their belongings, and made
+no further reference to running away. They felt more secure with
+the Robertson family living in the house. Besides, a letter from
+Mr. Orban stated that he was getting through his business quicker
+than he had expected, and he should only now wait for Miss Chase's
+boat from England, because she would need an escort up country.
+
+This cheered every one immensely. It was something to look forward
+to, and the days began to go quicker and more brightly.
+
+Then Nesta and Peter came home full of all their doings at the
+Highlands, and this made a great difference to the house. Eustace
+did not know he could have been so glad to see his brother and
+sister; it was not till they came back that he realized how dull he
+had really been without them.
+
+The Robertsons still stayed. Nesta slept with her mother, and the
+three boys were in the next room.
+
+Nesta knew a good deal about the excitements that had been taking
+place at home. It was thought useless to try and hush the matter
+up. Something was bound to slip out in the course of conversation,
+and so she was given the lightest possible version of the theft,
+ending with an amusing account of Sinkum Fung's visit.
+
+Of course Bob brought the children over, and to Eustace's intense
+gratitude, when it came to the story of the bogus scare, and Nesta
+seemed inclined to giggle, Bob said gravely, "Older people have
+made worse mistakes," and then proceeded to tell the story against
+himself about the tree stump and the pigs.
+
+There was something so big and nice about Bob's nature that,
+without meaning to, he always made people ashamed of being petty
+and ill-natured when he was present.
+
+"You made a good shot at the dingo, old man," he said. "It won't be
+long before you are out shooting with me, at this rate."
+
+Of course no one could laugh at Eustace after that. Bob saw nothing
+funny about what he had done--Bob actually praised him--and when
+Bob praised it meant something.
+
+"I say," Nesta asked when the twins were alone together, "weren't
+you most awfully scared?"
+
+"Well, I guess I was rather," Eustace admitted; "but of course it
+was silly to be. Mother thinks it was only one of the plantation
+hands now, and not a black-fellow at all, you see."
+
+"But a plantation hand might have knifed somebody," Nesta said,
+with a shudder. "I hope he won't come again. I know I should scream
+like anything."
+
+"I believe it would be the worst thing you could do," Eustace said
+gravely. "He would be sure to try and shut you up if you made a
+row--any thief would, if he wasn't such a coward as that one. But I
+wouldn't think about it if I were you, or you'll be fancying
+things, just as I did."
+
+In spite of which advice Nesta did suffer a few qualms at night, if
+she happened to wake in the dark; but sleeping with her mother was
+comforting, and the panics never lasted long.
+
+Lessons began again, and the days passed in their usual routine,
+but with the added joy of something to look forward to in the
+arrival of the new aunt.
+
+It was a nightly annoyance to Peter that he was put to bed at the
+same time as Sandy Robertson, while the twins stayed up to late
+dinner. Becky went to bed still earlier, and was generally fast
+asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
+
+"You might shoot pistols in the room after Becky is asleep," was a
+favourite saying, "and you wouldn't wake her."
+
+Which statement she almost verified the night Eustace caused such
+an excitement; she really did not wake until the second shot was
+fired.
+
+But Peter was not a heavy sleeper. Moreover, he had heard something
+about the black-fellow stories too. Sandy Robertson gave him a good
+deal of information as they played together, and the little fellow
+got into a thoroughly nervous state.
+
+Mrs. Orban often sat with him till he was asleep, and then left a
+shaded light burning both in his room and her own.
+
+It did not startle her very much one night as she sat at dinner
+with the twins to see Peter tear into the room yelling for her at
+the top of his voice. She guessed he had awakened from a dream, and
+was just frightened at finding himself alone with no one but Sandy.
+
+He sprang into her arms and lay there trembling, panting only
+"Mother--mother--mother," over and over again.
+
+"Well, sonny, what is it?" said his mother soothingly, stroking
+back his hair from his forehead.
+
+"O mummie," he gasped, "there's something moving in your room. I
+heard it."
+
+Eustace and Nesta started, and exchanged frightened glances. But
+Mrs. Orban answered quite calmly,--
+
+"I dare say, darling. It is probably Mary turning down the beds."
+
+She rose as she spoke and went towards the door.
+
+"Oh, don't, mummie! don't go," Peter pleaded eagerly; "perhaps it's
+a black-fellow."
+
+"Nonsense, darling," Mrs. Orban said. "You can stay here with
+Eustace and Nesta if you like, but of course I must go and see what
+the noise was."
+
+"I'm going with mother," said Eustace sturdily.
+
+"So am I," said Nesta.
+
+"We'll all go," said Mrs. Orban cheerily; "and I am quite sure Mary
+will think us mad when she sees us."
+
+So down the passage they went, Peter trembling and clinging to his
+mother. Straight into Mrs. Orban's room they all trooped, and of
+course, when they got there, there was no one to be seen--not even
+Mary turning down the beds.
+
+On they went into the boys' room, and all was peaceful there; for
+Peter had been too frightened to yell till he reached the
+dining-room, and Sandy had not been roused.
+
+"There, you see," said Mrs. Orban; "what did I tell you? There are
+far too many of us in the house now for any one to dare to come."
+
+She went on into the kitchen still holding Peter, and Mary and Kate
+certainly did look surprised.
+
+"Master Peter has been having a nightmare," Mrs. Orban explained,
+"and I want to reassure him. Were you in my room just now, Mary?"
+
+"No, ma'am," Mary said; "I haven't been there since dinner."
+
+"Oh, well, then, he must have been dreaming," Mrs. Orban said,
+still in the same cheery way. "We will just go all through the
+house and show him everything is all right, and then I will sit by
+him till he gets to sleep again."
+
+Eustace took a lantern, and on they all went right through the
+house, very naturally finding no one. Robertson, who was smoking on
+the veranda, declared that no one had been up or down the steps
+since he had been out, and Mrs. Robertson, who was in her bedroom
+lulling the baby to sleep, said no one had been that way either.
+
+After all of which Eustace and Nesta began to breathe freely; but,
+to tell the truth, at first they had both been a good deal scared
+by Peter's announcement. They guessed their mother was just making
+all this show of bravery for Peter's and their sakes, for another
+visit from the thief was not at all unlikely.
+
+But when Robertson laughed at the notion of any one having been
+able to pass him unseen where he stood near the veranda steps, when
+every nook and cranny had been looked into and no one was
+forthcoming to prove Peter's tale, every one was certain he had had
+a bad dream.
+
+"You are a little silly," Nesta said bracingly. "Of course there
+are always noises in the house."
+
+"But this was a big noise," Peter objected; "something banged."
+
+"Why didn't you say that before?" said Eustace with superiority;
+then added, out of the vastness of his recent experience, "Nobody
+ever bangs when they want to rob a house; they try to be as silent
+as mice."
+
+"Besides," said Nesta, "there is nothing for any one to steal now,
+since we keep all our things hidden away."
+
+This was a rule Mrs. Orban had made--that everything of value
+must be put away under lock and key. She had no fancy to be
+perpetually paying away rewards for recovered goods. She
+believed Sinkum Fung to be quite capable of setting people
+to do these little pilferings just in order to obtain the
+rewards. Disagreeable as was the idea, it frightened her far
+less than the thought of genuine black-fellows lurking about
+the place; they were really dangerous, cruel, and lawless.
+
+Mrs. Orban took Peter back with her into the dining-room, and he
+sat cuddled up on her knee while she finished dinner.
+
+They were all sitting listening to just one "good-night" story
+before going to bed, when Mary came into the room, gave a
+frightened glance round, and exclaimed,--
+
+"Lor', ma'am, haven't you got Miss Becky here? I made sure you
+had."
+
+Every one stared at Mary, and thought she looked rather white and
+queer.
+
+"Did you, Mary?" asked Mrs. Orban rather hurriedly. "Why?"
+
+"Well, ma'am," said Mary in an unsteady voice, "because she isn't
+in her bed."
+
+Mrs. Orban sprang to her feet.
+
+"Not in her bed?" she exclaimed. "My good woman, what do you
+mean?"
+
+Setting Peter down on the ground, she turned swiftly and left the
+room.
+
+"I just went in to turn down the beds," explained Mary to the twins
+as they hurriedly followed, "and went over to Miss Becky's corner
+to take a look at her, and she wasn't there. I didn't stop a
+minute, I was so took aback, but came straight off to see if maybe
+she was in the dining-room. You might have knocked me down with a
+feather when I saw she wasn't."
+
+Mrs. Orban rushed to Becky's bed. She was standing beside it as if
+petrified when the others entered. The bed was empty. This was no
+dream. Becky really and truly was not there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE WITCH.
+
+
+Of course Peter's story jumped to every one's mind, and with a
+horrified cry Mrs. Orban fell forward, fainting, on to the empty
+bed.
+
+The recent hunt through the house had been, as Eustace guessed, a
+greater strain than she had allowed any one to see; she could not
+be certain that they were on a wild-goose chase. This, coming on
+the top of it, was just too much for her.
+
+Instances of children being stolen had from time to time come to
+her knowledge--stories of little ones silently, mysteriously
+disappearing and never being heard of again. The twins had heard
+the same from the servants, among other disturbing stories. This
+last terrible event seemed just to prove that the first visitor had
+been no mere plantation hand; the stealing of a baby was more like
+the work of the native blacks.
+
+Nesta wrung her hands and wept. Eustace dashed away to fetch
+Robertson. Mary lost her head completely, and nobody thought of
+trying to restore poor Mrs. Orban to consciousness till motherly
+little Mrs. Robertson appeared on the scene.
+
+Robertson stood in the middle of the room looking the picture of
+bewilderment.
+
+"This beats everything," he said in an awed voice.
+
+Every one was really too terrified to make a noise. Puzzled glances
+were exchanged, questions whispered, and Robertson said again,--
+
+"This beats everything! It doesn't seem possible, unless she has
+been spirited away; for how could any one pass me on those steps
+without my seeing them?"
+
+"Could he have swarmed one of the posts?" Eustace asked.
+
+"I shouldn't say he could," Robertson replied, "but it looks as if
+he did. How could a man swarm a post with a sleeping child in his
+arms?"
+
+"Black-fellows are dreadfully clever," said Kate.
+
+"Hush," said Mrs. Robertson, "the poor lady is coming to herself.
+Don't let her hear you talking like that. Oh dear, how will she
+bear it?"
+
+The poor woman's eyes were full of tears. She knew well enough what
+a mother's feelings would be under such awful circumstances.
+
+"Every corner of the house was searched," said Robertson
+meditatively.
+
+"We didn't look under the beds," said Nesta.
+
+"Silly," said Eustace. "As if a black-fellow would have stopped to
+be looked for under a bed."
+
+"Yes--that's no go," said Robertson; and just at that moment there
+came such a strange sound from under the very bed they were
+standing by that every one jumped--a sound that brought Mrs. Orban
+back to her senses far quicker than any of good Mrs. Robertson's
+restoratives, for it was the voice of Becky herself.
+
+"Good gracious!" exclaimed all the women, after the first shock of
+surprise was over.
+
+"My patience," said Robertson, and down they all went on their
+hands and knees like a party of kangaroos, peering under the bed.
+
+There lay Becky, rosy with sleep, safe and sound, with puckered
+face and plaintive voice, evidently wondering what all the fuss was
+about.
+
+They hauled her from under the bed, and placed her on her mother's
+knee, where she sat blinking at the light like a young owl.
+
+"Why," said Nesta, "she must have tumbled out of bed in her sleep,
+and rolled over underneath."
+
+"So she must," agreed every one.
+
+"That was the noise Peter heard," Eustace said.
+
+"Of course it was," said every one except Mrs. Orban; and she said,
+as she bent her face over the baby in her arms,--
+
+"Oh, you dreadful children! Have you a conspiracy amongst you to
+frighten me out of my wits? Or are you trying to harden my nerves?
+I begin to wish your father would come home."
+
+She laughed a little, and it sounded much more like sobbing. So
+kind Mrs. Robertson hurried every one off to bed, because she said
+Mrs. Orban must be quite worn out.
+
+Eustace was so upset by his mother's words that he could not get to
+sleep for hours. They seemed to hold a reproach specially for
+himself--for had he not been the first to terrify his mother? It
+was not a good record to present to his father; and he had meant to
+be such a stand-by and comfort. With all his heart he echoed Mrs.
+Orban's wish. He had dreaded his father's going away; he longed for
+his return.
+
+The very next day the wish was fulfilled. News came up the hill
+that the plantation schooner had been sighted the evening before;
+she was in the bay. By midday the travellers had arrived, and the
+climax of the great excitement was reached.
+
+Every one had wondered a hundred times and more what that first
+greeting would be like--what words would be said. As a matter of
+fact, when the time really came, nobody said anything at all except
+Mr. Orban, who exclaimed when he caught sight of his wife,
+"Darling, what is the matter? You are looking ill."
+
+But Mrs. Orban stopped him with the promise to tell him everything
+later on. Meanwhile she nearly wept for joy over the meeting with
+Aunt Dorothy, and was far too happy to remember or speak of the
+distresses of the past week or so.
+
+The children hung back shyly and stared at the new-comer--a tall,
+slender girl, dressed, Nesta afterwards commented, just like a
+person in a story book, so dainty was she.
+
+Dorothy Chase was not at all like Mrs. Orban. She was certainly
+pretty, but the most remarkable thing about her was her expression,
+so vivacious was it, so keenly interested and alert. She was a
+great contrast to the people amongst whom she had come, for
+tropical heat saps a good deal of the enthusiasm of life out of
+people--even the children were subject to lassitude.
+
+They looked a quiet enough set as Miss Chase cast a quick searching
+glance around her after greeting her sister, and there flashed
+through her mind a contrast between them and the nephew and niece
+she had left but a few weeks ago in England--the children of
+another sister, orphans who lived with their grandparents in the
+old home.
+
+"Well, chicks," said Aunt Dorothy, with a laugh, "who is going to
+speak to me first?"
+
+They were standing, all in an untidy row, Becky, with one finger in
+her mouth, hanging on to Nesta's skirt.
+
+To the new-comer they looked pasty-faced, spiritless beings. The
+prints that the girls were dressed in were rather washed out; Peter
+had outgrown his suit. They were ill-clad, shy, and awkward.
+
+Eustace flushed with an uncomfortable feeling that they were not
+behaving very courteously, and came forward the instant Miss Chase
+spoke. Nesta followed, and then Peter, all as stiff as pokers in
+their shyness. But Becky Miss Chase picked up with a playful little
+shake, and kissed her heartily.
+
+"Oh, you dear, funny wee soul," she said, "how glad I am to see
+you. I've brought out a Kodak and I've promised to take all your
+photos almost every other day, for certainly no one at home could
+guess the least little bit what you are like."
+
+Becky did not resent the unceremonious treatment at all, but took
+it quite placidly in her own particular way. This gave Peter
+confidence.
+
+"Have you brought lots of boxes?" he asked, with an interested
+stare up into his young aunt's face.
+
+Eustace pulled his sleeve.
+
+"Shut up," he whispered. "Don't ask questions; it's rude."
+
+Eustace felt uncomfortable. He knew quite well whither his small
+brother's questions were trending. Peter was wondering what would
+be in those boxes for himself.
+
+"A good many," answered Miss Chase; but she was allowed time to say
+no more, because she was hurried into the house to rest and
+refresh.
+
+At tea the children sat round as solemn as owls and listened to all
+the questions and answers about the home folk. They picked up
+scraps of information most interesting to themselves, especially
+about the English cousins, Herbert, who was sixteen, and Brenda,
+who was a month or so older than the twins. From time to time they
+had heard of these cousins in letters, but it made them seem much
+more real when they were talked about by some one who had just come
+away from them.
+
+"Herbert is a very big fellow," Miss Chase said. "He is doing
+famously at Winchester."
+
+"Lucky chap," thought Eustace, who never read a school story
+without longing to go to a big English school.
+
+"And what about Brenda?" questioned Mrs. Orban.
+
+"You shall see a photo that was taken of her the other day," was
+the answer. "Most people think her very pretty."
+
+"Does she go to school too?" said Mrs. Orban, asking the very
+question Nesta was bursting to put.
+
+"Oh yes, Brenda is a regular schoolgirl. You see it would be so
+lonely for her to have lessons at home with a governess."
+
+"Lucky girl," thought Nesta, and sighed.
+
+"She was quite green with envy when she heard I was coming out
+here," Miss Chase said, "and threatened to have all sorts of
+illnesses, necessitating change of air for recovery, so that she
+might come with me."
+
+"Oh, I wish she had," Nesta said impulsively.
+
+"I don't think her grannie would agree with you," laughed Miss
+Chase. "She can hardly bear to part with her every term. If you
+want to see her, I think your best plan is to have an illness
+yourself, and let me take you back with me for change of air."
+
+"That would be better and better," Nesta exclaimed, "only I should
+want mother and every one else to come too."
+
+"Well, why not?" asked Miss Chase gaily. "Let's make up a party and
+all go back together. I am only allowed to stay two months, and
+then I must be off again. I will willingly pack you all up in my
+boxes and take you with me."
+
+"What did I tell you?" said a deep voice from the window, and there
+stood Bob Cochrane on the veranda. "I said she would bewitch you
+and spirit you all away."
+
+"You did, you did," said Peter, who had been drinking in every
+word; "you said you wouldn't like her."
+
+"Oh, come, no tales out of school," said Bob, as he crossed the
+threshold and came forward to be introduced; "you are giving me a
+bad start, you know."
+
+"I am sorry to have made such a bad impression at the outset," Miss
+Chase responded merrily as she shook hands. "Would it appease you
+at all if I offered to pack you with the rest?"
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you, Dorothy," said Mr. Orban. "He would take
+such a fearful amount of room, even if you doubled him up."
+
+Miss Chase smiled as she eyed the great big fellow.
+
+"I wouldn't come if you paid me," Bob said lightly. "They tell me
+it is a toss up whether the climate or the people freeze you up
+most in England."
+
+"Treason, treason, Bob," said Mrs. Orban. "Remember we are
+English."
+
+"I guess you have mellowed in the sunshine," Bob said
+imperturbably. "Children, don't you listen to a good word about
+England; don't you let yourselves be spirited away by bad fairies,
+or you'll regret it."
+
+"It's high treason," shouted Eustace. "England is our country. Off
+with his head."
+
+Then suddenly Miss Chase saw what her nephews and nieces really
+were like.
+
+"He has got to be punished," Nesta sang out.
+
+Peter and Becky made a simultaneous dive at the unfortunate Bob,
+who had begun whistling with a great show of unconcern.
+
+"What's his punishment to be?" demanded Eustace.
+
+Mrs. Orban thought a minute while Peter suggested pommelling, and
+Nesta mentioned a few tortures in the way of old-fashioned
+forfeits.
+
+"It's too hot for violent exercise," said Bob, when Nesta requested
+him to walk round the room three times on his head. "I shall go
+home to mother if I am ill-used."
+
+"Have some tea, Bob," said Mr. Orban.
+
+"No, no," cried the bullying trio, "not till he has paid his
+penalty for high treason."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Orban gently, "suppose you fetch the banjo and
+make him sing for his tea."
+
+"Good! Good!" was the immediate acclamation.
+
+Bob sat down resignedly.
+
+"I don't think a crueller sentence could have been passed," he said
+with a mock groan.
+
+"Between ourselves," said Mrs. Orban, as the children rushed into
+the drawing-room to fetch the banjo, "there is no tea in the pot,
+and you may as well sing till the kettle is boiling."
+
+Bob took the banjo with the air of a martyr and tuned it skilfully.
+
+"I choose my own song," he said, struck a few chords, and began, in
+his really beautiful voice,--
+
+    "Dey told us darkies right away out west
+    In England men make der money much de best,
+    And I believed dat ebry word was true,
+    So dat is why I come along wid you.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+"Oh, oh, oh," interrupted the children, "more treason! If you sing
+that song you will have to do another as well."
+
+"You can't hang a man after his head is cut off," said Bob
+stolidly, and went on,--
+
+    "But now we're here, why, de money doesn't grow,
+    And we ain't got nuffin' but de old banjo:
+    So we rove the streets if de wedder's wet or dry,
+    Till my heart most breaks and der's water in your eye.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+"Most pathetic," said Miss Chase, with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
+"I think I begin to see where Mr. Cochrane gets his revolutionary
+sentiments from."
+
+    "Then in sleep at night de nigger dreams ob home,
+    Where de sun really shines and de frosts nebber come,
+    Where we'd plenty to eat, and a little hut of logs,
+    And we hadn't got to beg for our bread like de dogs.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+Bob's voice became more and more plaintive; he sat in a drooping
+attitude with his head on one side as he finished,--
+
+    "But it ain't no good all dis singin' out of tune,
+    For we can't get warm, tho' they say it's hot for June;
+    It's certain for darkies dis is not de place,
+    Where eben de sun am ashamed to show his face.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+"So that is your opinion of England, is it?" asked Miss Chase.
+"Well, I am not surprised you don't want to come, then."
+
+"But of course it is all stuff, and nothing but a silly old darkie
+song," said Eustace.
+
+"You wait till you get there, young man," said Bob, still with an
+air of mock gloom about him; "you'll remember my warning then. It
+is so cold in England the natives have their windows glued in to
+keep out the air, and they have front doors as thick as walls, all
+studded with nails and brass knockers."
+
+"But what are the brass knockers for?" asked Nesta. "They wouldn't
+keep you warm."
+
+"Certainly not," was the answer; "the brass knockers are for the
+purpose of waking the people inside the house, who are always
+asleep with the cold--like dormice."
+
+"Mother," demanded Eustace, "do you think he ought to have any tea
+after that? He hasn't done penance, and he isn't a bit sorry. He is
+making it worse and worse."
+
+"I think, darling, as he is a guest he must have his tea," Mrs.
+Orban said; "but I will send a note by him to his mother to say he
+has not been good."
+
+"I'm not going home to-night--so there," said Bob complacently;
+"I'm going to sleep in a hammock on the veranda."
+
+"Oh, jolly!" exclaimed every one, and there was a chorus of, "We
+can stay up late, can't we, just for to-night--Aunt Dorothy's first
+night?"
+
+But Aunt Dorothy did not allow the compliment to deceive her. Not
+for her but for Bob Cochrane did the young people want to stay up
+later. He was certainly a great favourite.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A RIDERLESS HORSE.
+
+
+It was a delightfully merry evening. Bob had to re-do his
+punishment and sing several songs, and then he struck.
+
+"I am quite sure Miss Chase sings," he declared. "It's her turn
+now. Witches ought to be punished even more severely than
+traitors."
+
+She made no demur, but sat down to the piano and began to sing. But
+in the middle of her song such a noise began over her head that she
+dropped her hands laughingly, and exclaimed,--
+
+"How can I sing with that wretched electric bell going on all the
+time?"
+
+"Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r," sounded shrilly through the room,
+louder and louder.
+
+"Electric bell?" exclaimed the children with blank faces.
+
+"Oh, you dear new chum," said Mr. Orban, bursting into peals of
+laughter, accompanied by Bob, "that isn't an electric bell; it's a
+cicada."
+
+"A cicada!" repeated Miss Chase.
+
+"Yes; a kind of grasshopper, or cricket, you know," Mrs. Orban
+explained, looking much amused. "He is up there in the roof. I am
+afraid you will have to stop, for as long as you go on so will
+he."
+
+"How very ill-mannered of him," said Miss Chase.
+
+"Let's play something instead," said Peter, who was getting sleepy,
+but would not own it.
+
+He was not really fond of music--Bob's comic songs excepted.
+
+The game was begun, and going merrily, when suddenly there rose on
+the night air such an appalling howl that Miss Chase started and
+turned pale. To her astonishment, when she looked round the table,
+she found that no one but herself was at all disturbed by the
+sound.
+
+"You to play, I believe, Miss Chase," said Bob, who sat opposite
+her.
+
+She put down her card, and at that moment the agonized cry came
+again, apparently from immediately under the veranda. Dorothy
+gripped her hands tightly together, and again looked round on the
+unmoved faces. Again the cry resounded.
+
+"Surely," she said, looking appealingly at Bob, "there is something
+or some one in dreadful pain outside."
+
+Bob laughed.
+
+"I thought you seemed upset, but I didn't like to mention it," he
+said. "That's nothing but a dingo howling. There'll be a whole pack
+of them at it presently, I dare say. I'll go out and disperse them
+as soon as the game is over."
+
+"What is a dingo?" inquired Miss Chase.
+
+"Don't you know that, Aunt Dorothy?" asked Peter in tones of
+contemptuous astonishment. "Well, it's the commonest thing here."
+
+"Peter," said Bob gravely, "do you know what a top hat and a frock
+coat are like?"
+
+Peter shook his head in bewilderment.
+
+"Don't you?" said Bob, mimicking the small boy's tone. "Well,
+they're the commonest things in England. I am surprised at your
+ignorance!"
+
+Peter reddened.
+
+"But I've never seen them," he said.
+
+"Nor has Miss Chase ever seen a dingo," said Bob calmly.--"It is
+the wild dog of the Bush, Miss Chase. They come prowling round the
+house at night, looking for food."
+
+The howling grew worse and worse. Bob quietly sauntered out on to
+the veranda. There were a few shots, and the noise changed to yelps
+as the dingoes scurried in terror down the hill.
+
+"Don't be worried if you hear them in the distance most of the
+night," said Mrs. Orban. "I am afraid it will take you some time to
+get used to our noisy hours of darkness."
+
+When Miss Chase tried to settle down to sleep she remembered these
+words, and it seemed superfluous to her that she should have been
+wished "good-night" by every one. A good night was impossible. The
+dingoes howled persistently in the woods below, and quite close
+there was the incessant "croak-croak-croak-croak" of tree-frogs,
+together with many other inexplicable and weird noises.
+
+Nesta slept placidly through it all; but not till there came a lull
+just an hour or so before dawn did the weary stranger drop into
+oblivion.
+
+It did not seem to her she had been asleep five minutes, and there
+was only the faintest glimmer of light in her room, when she was
+awakened by something new. Just under her window there was a
+strident laugh.
+
+"Ha-ha-ha!" Then another, "Ha-ha-ha!"
+
+Miss Chase listened in bewilderment.
+
+"What extraordinary people," she thought, glancing enviously at the
+undisturbed Nesta. "Who on earth can be out at this time?"
+
+She supposed that it must be some of the plantation hands prowling
+about outside; but she wondered at her brother-in-law allowing them
+to behave in such a tiresome way when people were wanting to sleep.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha!" jeered the voice outside, as if mocking at her
+annoyance. Then followed a chorus of chuckles, and Miss Chase sat
+up in bed, and strained her ears to catch the joke, if possible.
+But no words reached her. There was a little pause as if some one
+might be speaking, and then another burst of delighted chuckles, so
+very funny that they were quite infectious, and Miss Chase smiled
+in spite of herself.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha! ha-ha-ha-ha!" laughed the voices. Now certainly
+there were more than one.
+
+"This is too ridiculous," thought Miss Chase, beginning to chuckle
+softly to herself. "What can they be saying or doing out there?"
+
+At last the hilarity became so boisterous that her curiosity got
+the better of her, and slipping on a wrapper she opened the window
+and crept out on to the veranda.
+
+To her surprise there was no one to be seen--not a soul was about
+either on the veranda or below, though she leant right over, and
+strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of these queer people.
+
+It was comparatively deliciously cool outside, the grayness before
+dawn a pleasant contrast to the tropical glare that was positively
+hurtful to the new-comer's eyes. Going to the corner of the
+veranda, she gazed away and away towards the now deep gray sea,
+lying like a bath of mist beyond the dense black of the trees in
+the valley.
+
+"What a queer, unreal world it seems," she was thinking, "and yet
+to little Peter this is all reality, and England nothing but a
+dream."
+
+"Ha-ha!" said a voice from immediately below, so loudly as to sound
+almost insulting.
+
+Miss Chase jumped, looked about in astonishment--and saw no one.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha-ha!" repeated the mocker.
+
+"I wonder if he sees me, and is laughing at me now?" thought the
+girl.
+
+She gave a little shiver. It was not a very pleasant sensation to
+feel herself spied upon by an unseen watcher, and she began to beat
+a hasty retreat towards her own window again.
+
+"Ha-ha!" laughed the unseen one, with such a note of triumph that
+now she was certain the humour was at her expense. It annoyed her,
+and at the same time it rather frightened her. Was it possibly a
+madman?--for assuredly the chuckles became madder and madder as
+they increased. Besides which, what sane person would be out of bed
+and giggling at such an hour? The thought of a lunatic or two at
+large lurking round the house was discomforting indeed. In England,
+with fast-barred doors and windows that are supposed to be
+unassailable, it would not be pleasant; but here--where what might
+be called the "front door" was nothing but the flimsiest of French
+windows, the windows themselves utterly powerless to keep any one
+out--the English girl found this new suspicion particularly
+disagreeable. She wondered whether she ought not to go and rouse
+Mr. Orban. Perhaps he ought to be warned, she reflected, so as to
+be ready in case these maniacs burst into the house, intent on the
+mischief they were so evidently gloating over in anticipation.
+
+"I wish I knew what to do," she thought in great agitation.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha-ha-ha!" responded the laughers with maniacal glee.
+
+"Why, Aunt Dorothy," exclaimed Nesta, as Miss Chase entered the
+room in a hurry, "what have you been doing?"
+
+Nesta was sitting up in bed. She had evidently awakened, and
+discovering her aunt's absence, was wondering about it. It
+comforted Miss Chase to have some one to speak to; but, determined
+not to frighten the child, she said as steadily as she could,--
+
+"I was only trying to find out what those people are laughing at
+out there. It seems such a strange time to be so amused. I suppose
+they must be some of the coolies going to work."
+
+"People!" repeated Nesta blankly.
+
+"Yes--listen!" said Miss Chase; and as another burst of thick-toned
+mirth reached them, "There--don't you hear that?"
+
+Nesta rolled down into her pillow, and fairly shouted into it.
+
+"What is the matter with the child?" asked Miss Chase in
+bewilderment.
+
+"People!" gasped Nesta, as soon as she had any voice to speak with.
+"Those aren't people; they're birds!"
+
+"Birds!" said Miss Chase. "Impossible. You must be asleep still, or
+you didn't hear what I said."
+
+"Yes, I did," Nesta replied. "You mean those funny fat chuckles and
+ha-ha's? Well, those are birds--the laughing jackasses. I can show
+them to you in a minute."
+
+Out they both went on to the veranda, and in the fast-increasing
+light Nesta pointed out some trees below, on which sat groups of
+brightly-hued birds, not unlike kingfishers in appearance, but very
+much larger. They had without doubt the funniest faces Miss Chase
+had ever seen. Not only did they laugh aloud--they positively
+grinned, so comic was the expression of their wide beaks. She
+laughed herself till the tears ran down her cheeks, and Nesta put
+her head down on the veranda railing and wept with laughter too.
+
+The sun was up now, there being practically no twilight either
+before sunrise or after sunset in North Queensland. The glory of
+the scene sobered Miss Chase, and she stood watching.
+
+The glee of the birds was explained. They sat and laughed as they
+watched for their prey, then pounced down upon the unwary locusts
+or lizards they had marked, and returning to the tree, sat
+chuckling triumphantly over the capture before eating.
+
+"It is really rather horrid of them, isn't it?" said Miss Chase.
+
+But Nesta did not sympathize.
+
+"Nobody minds," she said, "especially about locusts being
+eaten--nasty things. When there is a plague of them it means ruin
+to father; they destroy every blade of sugar-cane."
+
+Over the tree-tops in the valley below appeared a cloud of
+shimmering whiteness, moving swiftly round the base of the hill.
+
+"What is that?" asked Miss Chase curiously.
+
+"White cockatoos," said Nesta, with a yawn; "they're changing their
+feeding-ground--white cockatoos with bright yellow crests. But, I
+say, don't you think you had better go back to bed? You're looking
+awfully tired."
+
+"Is that one for me and two for yourself?" said Miss Chase lightly.
+"Personally, I would rather dress and go for a walk in the wood
+down there."
+
+"I don't think you had better," Nesta said, shaking her head
+doubtfully. "We aren't allowed to go there alone. It is awfully
+easy to get lost; and then there are snakes and things. You might
+get into a mangrove swamp too--or you might meet black-fellows."
+
+"Well, really," laughed Miss Chase, leading the way back to bed,
+"you don't give a very flattering description. Why, at home I'm
+often up at sunrise, out all by myself in the woods. You don't even
+meet poachers, for they take good care not to be seen."
+
+"I think England must be splendid," sighed Nesta.
+
+"I wonder if you would really think so," Miss Chase responded. "Mr.
+Cochrane gave you a very dismal picture of it, remember."
+
+"Oh, but Bob has never been there. Besides, he was only
+exaggerating, because he doesn't want us to go, you know."
+
+Miss Chase gave such a graphic account at breakfast of her early
+morning experiences that every one at the table shouted with
+laughter. The jackasses were alluded to ever after as Aunt
+Dorothy's lunatics.
+
+"To talk of serious things," said Mr. Orban, half way through the
+meal, "we shall have to be fearfully careful with the water. The
+second tank is almost empty, and I doubt its lasting till the rains
+come."
+
+"That's bad," said Bob.
+
+"Things are bad," said Mr. Orban. "I hope the rains will hurry up,
+or we shall have the cane catching fire. We should lose every bit
+of the crop if that happened."
+
+"Dear me," said Miss Chase, "you seem to have fearful difficulties
+to contend with. Nesta was talking about locusts only this
+morning."
+
+"Locusts will destroy the young crop," said Mr. Orban. "If it
+escapes them, fire may destroy the old. Too much rain and too
+little do equal damage. We've had a good many unprosperous years,
+with one thing and another."
+
+"It looks grand burning," said Eustace.
+
+"A sheet of flame, and your heart in the middle of it, never seems
+very grand to the man whose year's work and hope is being burnt
+under his very nose," said Mr. Orban.
+
+The children had seldom seen their father look as worried as he did
+then. It seemed to Eustace there was trouble in the air.
+
+"Can't you put out a fire in the cane once it begins?" asked Miss
+Chase with interest.
+
+"No," was the answer; "you can only try to stop it spreading by
+cutting as wide a path as possible between the burning part and the
+sound. It takes all hands to do it, though, and some of the coolies
+can't be got to work for love or money. It is a nasty business when
+it happens."
+
+Bob started off home early; not quite so early as he had meant to,
+because when his horse was brought round ready saddled, he found it
+had lamed itself somehow in the stable. He therefore borrowed a
+horse from Mr. Orban, and left his own to rest for a day or two.
+
+Generally when Bob took his departure after a particularly jolly
+time there was a good deal of depression about. But to-day, with
+the arrival of Aunt Dorothy's boxes up the hill, low spirits
+disappeared as if by magic.
+
+The contents of those boxes kept every one occupied the whole day.
+What with the excitement and curiosity over the many presents--the
+clothes, useful things, and games stowed quaintly into the
+packing-cases together; what with every one's amusement over Miss
+Chase's frequent astonishment at the commonest things of their
+everyday life, time slipped cheerily away towards evening. The
+children never remembered such happiness in their quiet existence
+before, and Miss Chase felt half inclined to weep when she saw what
+simple things were joys to them.
+
+"Herbert and Brenda would laugh at them if they saw them," she
+thought gravely.
+
+Brenda's photograph was very much admired. She was a beautiful girl
+indeed, with a proudly-carried head, and just the suspicion of a
+scornful curve to her lips.
+
+Nesta suppressed a sigh as she looked at her cousin's clothes, for
+Nesta loved pretty things. She let out little bursts of admiration
+that amused her aunt considerably.
+
+"She looks a regular angel," Nesta said. "I never saw any one so
+lovely. Isn't she simply perfect, Aunt Dorothy?"
+
+"She is a very nice girl," was all Miss Chase could be brought to
+admit.
+
+"And she goes to school," murmured Nesta, gazing lingeringly at the
+lucky girl, who seemed to have everything heart could desire. "I
+just want to see her more than everything in the world."
+
+"Perhaps you will some day," said Miss Chase, wondering silently
+how much of the compliment Brenda would return could she see a
+photograph of this rough-headed, ill-dressed little cousin of hers;
+for Brenda was particular--at least over her friends at school.
+
+Eustace gazed silently at the portrait of Herbert. He had no word
+to say about the immaculately-dressed English boy, photographed in
+his best suit, his highest collar, and pet tie. At least he made no
+public comment; but when Nesta bothered him later for an opinion,
+he said shortly,--
+
+"He looks an ass."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't," Nesta said warmly, ready to admire everything
+English.
+
+"I think so," Eustace said imperturbably.
+
+"Then you're a silly, jealous boy," said Nesta in fiery
+championship.
+
+"Who wants to have clothes like Brenda?" was the instant retort,
+"and go to school like Brenda, and be just like Brenda? But I'm
+certain I don't want to look like Herbert anyway. He looks a
+stuck-up ass."
+
+"He--he looks like a gentleman," spluttered Nesta.
+
+"Oh, shut up," said Eustace. "Can't a gentleman look an ass? Who is
+that riding up the hill?"
+
+His quick ears had caught the sound of hoofs, and glad of a pretext
+to change the subject he went and leant over the balcony.
+
+Nesta was at his side with a pounce.
+
+"Hulloa!" he shouted a few seconds later; "here is something
+queer."
+
+"What is it, Eustace?" called his mother from within; and soon
+every one was on the veranda, staring eagerly down the hill.
+
+Coming up at a leisurely trot was a riderless horse--saddled,
+bridled, but alone.
+
+The watchful party waited in breathless astonishment till it was
+close to the house. Then Eustace said sharply,--
+
+"Mother, it's the horse Bob went away on this morning! There's been
+some accident."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A VOICE FROM THE SCRUB.
+
+
+There could be no doubt about it, and every one stared blankly
+after the beautiful big creature as it passed on, round the house
+towards its own stable.
+
+"What can have happened?" Mrs. Orban exclaimed. "Bob is such a
+splendid rider."
+
+"Oh, he can't have been thrown, of course," Eustace said, with an
+emphasis meant to impress Aunt Dorothy.
+
+"Perhaps it's black-fellows," said Nesta shakily.
+
+"Stupid," said Eustace sharply, "Bob can shoot straighter than any
+one I know."
+
+"Instead of wrangling over possibilities, we ought to be doing
+something," said Mrs. Orban. "Eustace, you had better fetch that
+horse and ride down to father at once. Perhaps he will guess what
+it means."
+
+Eustace was off like an arrow from a bow, and presently appeared
+below the veranda, sitting erect and fearless, riding the returned
+horse.
+
+He looked such a scrap perched up there that Miss Chase had a
+sudden qualm as to his safety.
+
+"Will he be all right going down alone?" she asked.
+
+"All right?" questioned Mrs. Orban, looking puzzled.
+
+"Yes; I mean, isn't it rather a risk for him?"
+
+"Oh goody, no!" Nesta answered with a laugh. "Why, Eustace can ride
+anything; he has ridden ever since he was six."
+
+"Father will want to see the horse," Mrs. Orban said. "Perhaps it
+has only run away from the Highlands before it was stabled. But I
+can't think what it has been doing in the interval, or why Bob has
+not sent over to inquire. He ought to have got home by nine at
+latest."
+
+Mr. Orban was as puzzled as every one else when he saw the horse.
+He examined it carefully.
+
+"Well, so far as I can see, Bolter has not been running away," he
+said thoughtfully. "He has not been overheated, and he is as fresh
+as paint. I should say he has had some quiet hours of grazing. But
+where Bob is remains a mystery. I must ride over to the Highlands
+at once and find out if he is there."
+
+"O father, can I come too?" Eustace cried eagerly. "I could ride
+Bolter, and I shall never be happy till I know Bob is all right."
+
+Mr. Orban eyed the boy kindly.
+
+"Yes, you can come," he said. "It will scare Mrs. Cochrane less
+perhaps, and look more casual if I have you with me."
+
+Away they went at a quick trot along the rough road leading to the
+wood known as Palm Tree Scrub. Eustace knew every inch of the way,
+and generally loved to get into the cool and shade under the
+feathery palms. But to-day he glanced left and right, looking for
+he knew not what with sickening anxiety.
+
+The road, nothing but a cart-track, skirted a mangrove swamp
+awhile.
+
+"He can't have got in there," said Eustace, with a nod towards the
+thickly growing stems of ti-trees rearing up from long coarse
+grass.
+
+There was a mysterious darkness in the depths of the woods that
+somehow chilled the boy to-day.
+
+"What should he get into a rank place like that for?" said Mr.
+Orban bracingly.
+
+At the same time he whipped up his horse and hurried forward. He
+was regretting having brought Eustace. A mangrove swamp is an
+unhealthy spot at the best of times, productive of a great deal of
+malarial fever; it would be nightfall, he reflected, before they
+got back, and the mist would be rising.
+
+Away and away out into the open the pair galloped, and came to the
+side of the creek--the bend in the river through which the horses
+had to wade. The water was low just now. There were times when such
+floods roared over this spot that the man carrying the mails had
+been known to be swept away, horse and all, and was never heard of
+again.
+
+At the other side the horses plunged into grass as high as their
+flanks--a flat, uninteresting tract of land, bare of trees except
+where here and there a single palm tree arose. But beyond that the
+ground rose suddenly from the banks of this bend of the river. On
+the summit of a high bank, luxuriantly surrounded by tropical
+foliage of all sorts, was Bob Cochrane's home.
+
+It was a relief to Mr. Orban to find only Mr. Cochrane on the lower
+veranda. He was a short, broad, sandy-haired man with a rough
+appearance, and as kind a heart as could be found in the colony,
+which is saying a great deal.
+
+"Good-evening, Cochrane," said Mr. Orban casually, as he reined in
+his horse. "Is Bob at home?"
+
+Eustace listened for the answer with a thumping heart, and he saw a
+slight look of surprise flit across Mr. Cochrane's face as he
+replied slowly,--
+
+"Bob? No. I thought he was over at your place. He hasn't turned up
+here to-day."
+
+"Well, he was with us," Mr. Orban said, trying hard to keep up the
+careless tone, "but he started off this morning--I thought for
+home."
+
+"Not he," said Mr. Cochrane; "at least he hasn't arrived. Perhaps
+he had to come round by somewhere else--Gairloch or one of those
+places. Come in, won't you, and wait for him, if you want to see
+him."
+
+"Afraid I can't do that," Mr. Orban said, speaking low so that only
+Mr. Cochrane, now by his horse's head, should hear. "Fact is, I'm
+rather worried. Bob's horse went lame, and he borrowed one of mine.
+He should have been here at about nine, but the horse--this one
+Eustace is on--appeared back at my place an hour ago."
+
+Mr. Cochrane stared blankly.
+
+"Without Bob?" he questioned in a dazed way.
+
+"Yes. Don't say anything about it to your wife--it might frighten
+her unnecessarily," Mr. Orban said. "He may have gone round by
+Gairloch, and the beast ran away from there. We can just say I came
+over on business, and then you had better come right off with me to
+see if Bob is all right."
+
+"I'll do that," said the Scotsman, and hurried off to get his
+horse.
+
+"Now look here, Eustace," Mr. Orban said, "I'm going to leave you
+here for to-night, whatever happens. Mother would not thank me for
+bringing you through that mangrove swamp and risking fever. But
+you'll have to keep a quiet tongue in your head and say nothing
+about Bob's leaving our house to-day. If you say nothing, Mrs.
+Cochrane and Trix will only fancy he is staying with us."
+
+"O father," Eustace said pleadingly, "need I stay really?"
+
+The prospect frightened him, for he was terrified lest he should
+let the cat out of the bag. Keeping a secret was not one of his
+accomplishments.
+
+"Yes, my lad," was the answer, however; "there is to be no question
+about it, and you are to behave like a man. Anxiety is much worse
+to bear than any bodily hurt, and a man should protect a woman from
+it as he would save her from being tortured. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes, father," Eustace said, with a sinking heart.
+
+"It isn't a little thing to do," Mr. Orban went on; "it is one of
+the big things, for it means self-sacrifice. It is always
+comforting to oneself to talk things out. You'll have plenty of
+things to say without mentioning Bob. Tell them about Aunt Dorothy
+and her queer mistakes--the boxes you have unpacked--Ah, Mrs.
+Cochrane," he broke off suddenly, looking up to a figure that
+appeared on the upper veranda, "how do you do? I've just come over
+to steal your husband for a bit. I hope you won't mind."
+
+Eustace was amazed at the change in his father's tone; it was
+brisk, cheery, and impossible to suspect.
+
+"But won't you come in?" asked Mrs. Cochrane, who in appearance was
+something like a little brown robin. "You must be hot and tired."
+
+"Not a bit," Mr. Orban said; "and I'm in such a hurry I must ask
+you to forgive the rudeness. I want you to do me a favour too, if
+you will. Keep Eustace the night. I never thought how late I might
+be going home when I brought him; I want to go back by Gairloch."
+
+"Certainly, I'll keep the dear laddie with pleasure," was the
+cordial answer, and the kindly look that beamed on Eustace
+positively hurt him. She looked so happy, and oh, what awful news
+was there in store for her!
+
+"I may even keep your husband all night," Mr. Orban added. "You
+won't be scared if he doesn't turn up in good time for bed?"
+
+"Not I," said Mrs. Cochrane. "I know my dear belongings are always
+safe with you."
+
+Eustace could have cried at the words. "Safe!" and where was Bob
+whom she pictured so safely at this very minute in the Orbans'
+house? Mr. Orban did not look up as he said,--
+
+"Don't expect Bob either. Eustace will tell you all about what a
+merry household we have suddenly become. We've got a witch into it,
+as Bob calls her. Here comes Cochrane. I hope he won't want an hour
+to say farewell."
+
+"Not I," said Mr. Cochrane bravely. "Orban has made his apologies,
+I suppose?"
+
+He ran up the steps, said good-bye, and in a few minutes the two
+men were gone, leaving Eustace to face a terrible ordeal.
+
+He took his father's suggestion and talked much of Miss Chase. It
+was made easy for him by the kindly curiosity of both Mrs. Cochrane
+and Trixy.
+
+Beatrix was a jolly girl, rather like Bob both in looks and ways.
+She was older for her age than Nesta, perhaps because she had no
+companions of her own standing to keep her back. Eustace and she
+always got on well together, and to-night he was grateful to her
+for being such a chatterbox. The story of Aunt Dorothy's lunatics
+made Mrs. Cochrane and Trix both laugh till the tears ran down
+their cheeks. It was harder to tell them about the evening before,
+for that was all so full of Bob.
+
+It struck Mrs. Cochrane after a time that Eustace looked singularly
+pale, and that the boy was talking rather fast and excitedly,
+unlike his usual self.
+
+"Do you know," she said, "I believe you are very tired, Eustace.
+What do you say to going to bed?"
+
+"Oh, I should love it," he said, with such eagerness that Mrs.
+Cochrane was startled, and eyeing him critically she discovered he
+was now crimson.
+
+"I just hope he has not got a touch of the sun," was her thought.
+
+But she said nothing of her fear.
+
+Eustace was put into Bob's room, and everything he looked at in it
+made him more miserable. But he was thankful to get away by himself
+at last and give up the wretched pretence of good spirits. He felt
+he was getting to the end of his powers, that in another minute the
+truth would tumble out in spite of him. All the time he was talking
+he was also listening--listening--listening for the sound of hoofs
+that never came.
+
+He went on listening long after he got into bed, for he could not
+sleep, he was so certain there must be bad news, as neither Mr.
+Cochrane nor his father returned.
+
+He must have dozed fitfully through the night, but it seemed a
+terribly long one. Every time he opened his eyes he was wide awake
+in a minute to the remembrance of what had happened. When he awoke
+at last to find the sun rising, he could lie still no longer, he
+was haunted by such restless thoughts. He dressed and went
+downstairs into the open air.
+
+"Supposing Bob had gone off the track for some reason, and lost his
+way," ran his thoughts. "Supposing he was wandering about seeking
+it all night up to this very minute! Supposing he had been waylaid
+and surrounded by black-fellows!--Sinkum Fung had declared they
+were camping in the neighbourhood. No, Eustace would not think of
+that--one white man against a tribe of blacks: it was too terrible!
+And yet supposing he had been, and no one found out!" Thoughts are
+sometimes dreadfully uncontrollable things.
+
+"I believe I will go for a ride," he said to himself. "I might just
+go down to the creek--I won't cross it--but just as far as there,
+to see if they are in sight. I can do that easily, and be in to
+breakfast."
+
+He found a man near the stables whom he got to saddle Bolter, then
+off he started down the slope across the river, and away over the
+uninteresting stretch of flatness till he again reached the river
+bank. There he paused, staring towards the mangrove swamp with the
+same chilled feeling he had experienced the day before. It was the
+terrible dread that the depths of the woods might hold something
+ghastly--Bob living, but in awful distress of mind or body; Bob
+dead!
+
+There were no signs of his father or Mr. Cochrane; no sounds but
+those of nature. They certainly could not have found Bob at
+Gairloch. The only alternative seemed the scrub.
+
+Suddenly Eustace threw back his head, and in a shrill treble gave
+vent to a prolonged Australian "coo-ee."
+
+"If he is there," argued the boy, "of course he will answer. How
+silly of me not to think of that before."
+
+He could hardly believe his ears for joy, but there was instantly
+an answer--so faint that he only caught a bit of it; still he heard
+it.
+
+In wild excitement he coo-eed again, his very loudest this time;
+and again came the reply, scarcely more distinct, and more like a
+cry than a coo-ee.
+
+"It comes from the scrub," thought Eustace. "He must be there, but
+awfully far off or ill, for that isn't like his voice. What shall I
+do? I can't go back and fetch any one, because father said I was
+not to tell. I daren't wait till father comes, for fear I lose it.
+It might get fainter and fainter. Oh, I must do something when Bob
+is calling out for help! If I could find him, if--if I could save
+him, it would be splendid!"
+
+Just once again he sent out his piercing coo-ee, and this time the
+answer was distinct enough for him to decide its exact position.
+Without another moment for reflection, he urged Bolter on, waded
+through the river, and dashed helter-skelter towards the wood. He
+thought nothing of the possibility of himself being lost, nothing
+of the danger of meeting black-fellows. He was going to Bob--that
+was the central idea. Bob was in danger and called for help. It was
+the fulfilment of the greatest wish of Eustace's life to serve
+Bob.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+BLACK-FELLOWS.
+
+
+In the exultation of the thought Eustace plunged into the scrub and
+rode on and on unheedingly, lost in dreams of the adventure before
+him. Always he found Bob, always he rescued him, sometimes with the
+most thrilling hair-breadth escapes.
+
+The wood was not dark but densely shady, with black distances. It
+presently began to worry Eustace that it was impossible to keep a
+straight line for the direction whence the answering cry had come;
+it was often necessary to wind in and out of the close-growing tree
+stems to find a passage for himself and Bolter. There was no road,
+path, or even track to follow.
+
+"This will get muddling," he thought, when he had been twisting and
+turning, doubling back on his route, for about half an hour. "I
+guess I ought to have marked the trees with notches as I came
+along. I'll go back and start again."
+
+He pulled Bolter up, sat back on his saddle, and looked round for
+the gleam of light through the trunks of the trees that would guide
+him back to the open; but there was none--nothing but an even
+monotony of dense distance, no matter where he turned.
+
+The boy's heart stood still in the unpleasant shock of surprise.
+Which way had he come? He had not the slightest notion, for each
+way looked so exactly the same as the other. He realized with
+sickening intensity that he had lost his bearings.
+
+"But I must find my way out, of course," he said, addressing
+Bolter's glossy ears. "I'll try each way in turn till I see the
+light. There is nothing to be scared about."
+
+He felt quite angry with himself for his momentary panic; it was
+stupid and babyish. Of course fellows had been lost in the Bush,
+but they couldn't have been such a short way in as he must be by
+now. True, he had heard a story of a chap who had gone round and
+round like a squirrel in a cage not a mile from the outskirts of
+the scrub. He was "bushed," and found dead.
+
+The boy shuddered, then literally shook himself as he urged Bolter
+on again to begin investigations.
+
+"I won't think about it," he said, setting his teeth. "I must get
+out, and begin again; I must."
+
+In and out of the trees he wound, trying his utmost to retrace his
+steps; but he had noticed nothing on the way in, and he had no
+landmarks to guide him. This went on so long that, fight as he
+would with the fear at his heart, it began to master him.
+
+"Seems to me I am always coming back to the place I start from," he
+thought, with a desperate sense of helplessness; "but there isn't a
+bit of difference between these hateful trees. I'll mark one and
+try."
+
+He cut a deep gash in the bark of the nearest to him, and went on.
+But though he watched most carefully, he never came on that tree
+again.
+
+"As I'm not getting out," he reflected, "I must be getting deeper
+and deeper into the scrub. Oh, what shall I do--what shall I do?
+What a silly fool I have been! I might have remembered father's
+warnings. Bob said one ought to learn to think out all sides of a
+question. I didn't; and now if father goes back I shan't be there
+to tell him I heard the coo-ee. Oh dear, oh dear!"
+
+He gave a gasping sigh, almost a sob. To have been so near saving
+Bob, and not to have done it after all--only to die "bushed"! It
+was enough to break a man's nerve, let alone a child's.
+
+He went back in thought to the river bank, picturing how it would
+have been if he had only patiently waited, giving a coo-ee now and
+again to keep in touch with the answerer.
+
+"Why, how silly I am!" he exclaimed. "If I coo-ee now he will
+answer me, and I can follow that."
+
+The thought cheered him instantly, and making a hollow mouthpiece
+with his hands to increase the sound, he gave the loudest coo-ee he
+had ever given in his life.
+
+There was not the faintest response.
+
+Again and again he repeated it, straining his ears to hear if there
+came a reply. More and more agonized grew his cries; so intense his
+silences between that he even stopped his breathing to listen. But
+there was nothing to hear. He got hot and cold by turns; he felt
+sick and queer. It was now hours since his departure from the
+Highlands, and he had had no food since the very poor supper he
+managed to eat the night before. The effort of shouting did not
+improve matters, and he was so hoarse at last he could call no
+more.
+
+Then he completely lost his head, and began riding with desperate
+inconsequence as straight ahead as the trees would allow. Stay
+still he could not; the inaction terrified him. He argued that he
+must get somewhere by going on long enough--somewhere "through to
+the other side," as he expressed it.
+
+"Why doesn't Bob answer?" that was the most troublesome thought.
+"Have I got out of earshot?"
+
+Presently Eustace was beyond thinking; he went on dully because he
+felt he must keep on the move; but hunger, exhaustion, and the heat
+of the now well-advanced day were beginning to tell on him. The
+apathy threatened to become so settled that it was a mercy when
+Bolter presently stumbled so badly that Eustace had to rouse
+himself to hold on. Then it was that he noticed straight before him
+at last a wide gleam of light amongst the stems of the trees.
+
+The sight put such life and spirit into him that he whipped up the
+now drooping Bolter, who also had just cause to reflect on no
+breakfast and general ill-usage, and they covered the ground as
+fast as possible, considering how unequal it was, how thick the
+undergrowth in parts.
+
+A disappointment and a great surprise awaited the pair when they
+emerged into this open space--it was nothing but a clearing in the
+wood after all, dotted about with queer-shaped huts scarcely as
+tall as a man, and all made of pliable branches of trees
+interwoven with grass for walls.
+
+Eustace pulled up short in breathless dismay, for a few paces away
+there arose from among these untidy "humpies" some twenty
+natives--erect, alert, all with poised boomerangs or spears ready
+to fling. It was a sinister reception for one small boy on a spent
+horse. Of course the keen-eared black-fellows had heard him coming
+from miles away, and were ready.
+
+It was small wonder, considering his condition, that after one
+wild, appealing glance at the line of fierce, dark faces Eustace
+fell forward on Bolter's neck in a dead faint. He did not see the
+weapons lowered, or the gleam of something like grim amusement on
+the chief's face as he realized for what it was they had been so
+elaborately prepared.
+
+Out of the huts crept stealthy figures of women and children. When
+Eustace opened his eyes he found himself lying flat on his back
+with these people crowding inquisitively around. He looked up into
+their repulsively heavy faces with a horror of realization. For
+some moments he was too paralyzed to stir. No more awful fate could
+have befallen him than this--it was the sort of thing that might
+come to one in a nightmare. But he knew it was no dream. There
+stood Bolter a few paces away, grazing thankfully, and in no way
+perturbed.
+
+The harsh guttural language these people spoke was unintelligible
+to the boy, but he could guess they were intensely curious about
+him from the way they pointed and stared. It seemed to him that
+some of them could never have seen a white child before, they were
+so excited, especially the children, who looked half terrified.
+Were they cannibals these people? he wondered, with a sinking
+heart.
+
+He forced himself to his feet, and stood shaking a second, then
+dropped on his knees. The performance seemed to amuse the gaping
+group--the younger men and women laughed, the children clapped
+their hands.
+
+Eustace was wondering drearily how long they would stand staring at
+him, when the chief strode up to him and said something with many
+gesticulations; but not a thing could the boy understand.
+
+The chief was much more decorated than any one else--covered from
+head to heels with stripes and devices in white, blue, and red
+paint. There were feathers in his crisp dark hair, and slung over
+his shoulder a strange shaped club.
+
+Eustace proceeded, by means of much waving, pointing, and the
+patter talked on the plantation by the coolies, to try and explain
+how he had come there, and how very much he only wanted to get away
+and find the way home. But it was useless--the men shook their
+heads and looked perplexed.
+
+Seeing that no one seemed inclined to molest him, but that every
+one merely watched him as if he were a monkey in a cage at the Zoo,
+he resolved on a desperate step. With a supreme effort he stood
+again, staggered over to Bolter, and attempted to mount.
+
+But this was not allowed. With two strides the chief was upon him,
+flinging him back on the ground as a big boy might fling a kitten
+from him. Then the great man plainly intimated that this creature
+he considered his; no one should touch it. Eustace was not to dare
+to approach it. The chief's attitude was menacing; it was well to
+be seen he felt he had acquired a prize.
+
+"But what is going to happen to me?" thought Eustace, quaking with
+fear. "What will they do with me?"
+
+No one seemed to have any intention of doing anything with him at
+the moment; he was only stared at. The men, for the most part, were
+now more interested in Bolter, particularly his saddle and bridle.
+Little by little the women dropped off, as if they had work to
+attend to, and a smell of cooking arose that made the boy sick with
+longing as he sat huddled up and half silly with starvation and
+fatigue. The apathy that had been upon him before he was cheered by
+the gleam of light crept over him again; fear faded from his mind;
+nothing seemed to matter any more.
+
+He sat so still that presently the children crept closer, and began
+to finger his clothes, as if they puzzled them. What drew them away
+from him he did not realize till something was thrust under his
+very nose, and the smell told him it was food.
+
+He had just enough sense left to try and eat; but before he had
+swallowed five mouthfuls he rolled over and fell sound asleep.
+Nothing could have kept him awake--neither a thunderstorm nor an
+earthquake.
+
+When he awoke again to a consciousness of his surroundings the sun
+was rising. He had come through the night in safety--that was his
+first thought; and it both surprised and encouraged him. Surely, he
+argued, if they wanted to kill him he would not have been spared so
+long.
+
+The scarcely-touched food was still beside him. Refreshed by the
+much-needed sleep, he was able to eat it now, and began to feel
+more like himself again, though stiff and still weary. He was
+sufficiently rested for his brain to be active once more, and his
+whole thoughts were bent upon what was to become of him next.
+
+Bolter was tethered at the other side of the open space, well
+guarded, as if the chief thought he might try to inveigle the horse
+away by some magic means, then mount and ride off. It was very
+evident that if he meant to get away it would have to be on
+foot--the chief would not part with Bolter. The question was: Did
+they mean to detain Eustace as prisoner? At present, except that
+they stared inquisitively at him, every one seemed fairly
+indifferent to his presence. However, he decided that it would be
+foolish to put the matter to the test in broad daylight; he must
+wait till nightfall, and under cover of the intense darkness make
+his escape. He set himself to wait as patiently as he could,
+pretending to be as drowsy and inert as a well-fed snake; but his
+mind was very active. He had never thought so many thoughts in all
+his life before. What, he wondered, could Mrs. Cochrane have
+thought of his disappearance? Had his father returned to the
+Highlands and discovered it? Were they keeping his loss from his
+mother as they had kept Bob's from Mrs. Cochrane? Was it possible
+Bob had got safe and sound home again? And oh! were they looking
+for him?
+
+There came an answer both to this and to the question as to the
+black-fellows' intentions respecting him that very morning.
+
+Eustace had been furtively watching the dark figures moving to and
+fro. Apparently some of the men went off to hunt. Except when they
+were preparing food, the women seemed to do nothing. The children
+squabbled and tumbled about, or slept like tired brown kittens in
+casual places. There was a great hush over everything, when
+suddenly across the silence came a sound that set every pulse in
+the boy's body astir, so that the beating of his heart almost
+choked him. It was a distant but long, clear coo-ee.
+
+Wild with joy Eustace sprang to his feet, but before he could make
+a sound he found himself surrounded by a dozen menacing figures,
+clubs in hand, ready to fell him if he dared to reply.
+
+Some of the tribes are very secretive and stealthy in their
+movements. It was well to be seen that this one did not wish to
+have its camping ground divulged.
+
+With a thrill of horror Eustace understood that he was powerless.
+To cry out would mean certain death. It might be their intention to
+kill him at any rate, but in the postponement lay a chance of
+escape. He must meet stealth by stealth.
+
+Again the coo-ee cut through the air, but Eustace covered his face
+with his hands and dropped dejectedly back on the ground.
+
+It was a bitter moment. Could anything have been worse than to know
+help was at hand, and to be unable to take it?
+
+That a search-party was now out he felt certain; it was probably
+his father's voice, and he dared not answer. He had the sense to
+see how useless it would be to give one cry, and die for it. But
+oh! it was hard--cruelly hard.
+
+It seemed to him those coo-ees went on for hours, each with a long
+listening pause after it, sometimes nearer, gradually fading away
+and away till they were no louder than the answer he had received
+on the banks of the creek.
+
+In addition to the keenness of the disappointment and the terror
+that he was losing his last chance of ever getting home again came
+the speculation as to what these wild-faced people meant to do with
+him, and there leaped to his mind a new and very terrible question.
+Was it possible that Bob had come this way? Had they met him with
+spears and boomerangs, and dispatched him before he had time to
+whip out his revolver? But no. There was still that answering
+coo-ee to be accounted for. Perhaps they had only bound him and
+made him prisoner till then, undecided what to do with him. It was
+possible that on hearing Eustace's coo-ee he had dared the blacks,
+and attempted those three faint answers. If so, they had cost him
+his life, and the ultimate silence was explained.
+
+Eustace lay shuddering over the thought. He could only keep his
+teeth from chattering by holding his jaw tightly in both hands.
+
+How long he lay lost in those miserable thoughts he did not know.
+He was roused from his lethargy by a soft kick, and, starting up,
+he found the woman who fed him the day before beside him offering
+him food again. She seemed to treat him as if he were a white pig
+that had strayed amongst them. He was probably a less intelligible
+creature in her eyes, but she knew that he must at least eat to
+live.
+
+It was a messy preparation, but he managed to eat some; and all the
+driest portions of it he could extract unnoticed he slipped into
+his pockets, laying in provision for possible starvation next day.
+Then he lay down again and feigned sleep.
+
+He looked through half-closed lids with longing eyes at the
+peaceful Bolter. Eustace wondered whether he too had heard those
+tantalizing coo-ees and ached to respond. What would be poor
+Bolter's fate here? The blacks make the women of the tribes into
+their beasts of burden when shifting camp; they do not habitually
+use horses. The chief was perhaps only keeping Bolter as a valuable
+addition to the larder when provisions ran short.
+
+Every thought that came to the boy was horrid. He wished he did not
+have to think, and as dusk fell set his mind to the task of keeping
+awake after his captors had settled down for the night. It would be
+fatal to sleep as he had done the night before.
+
+The chief had been away all day, and was not yet come back. It was
+possible judgment on the prisoner was suspended till his return.
+When the great man heard of the coo-ees and Eustace's attempt to
+answer, probably the boy's fate would be sealed. Escape must be now
+or never.
+
+Eustace made up his mind that he would start off in the direction
+whence the coo-ees had come. It was the only guide he had, and a
+very poor one, as had already been proved by the first cry he had
+so unfortunately tried to follow.
+
+He waited just as long as he could bear, after silence fell on the
+camp. There was no question of taking Bolter. He was guarded as on
+the night before; besides, he would have made too much noise.
+Eustace dared not get up and walk himself, or even crawl. He had
+invented a silent, gliding movement as he lay scheming--by means of
+strong tufts of grass he meant to gradually pull his body,
+snakewise, little by little away from the open into the wood.
+
+As soon as he dared he began his weird progress, quaking at every
+sound he made lest it should rouse those keen-eared sleepers so
+close around him. The soft "frou-frou" of the dry grass beneath him
+sounded to his excited fancy like the sudden rushing of a torrent.
+He was almost overwhelmed by the fear of pulling himself
+inadvertently up against one of those dark forms, for he did not
+know where every one was lying. One false move now, and it would
+mean the end of all things for him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE SECRET OF THE THICKET.
+
+
+The night was close and still with the silence that intensifies
+sound tenfold. Eustace thought he could not have had worse luck.
+His temptation was to hurry; common sense bade him hold himself in
+check. Panic urged him to risk everything, and make a bolt for it.
+But Bob's precept was ringing in his mind--there were two sides to
+the question; he might bolt, but where to in the dark? It was
+useless to dash headlong into trees and make for nowhere in
+particular. The plan was to get as far away as possible in the
+dark, unheard, so that by daylight he would be out of sight, and
+able to quicken his pace to some purpose.
+
+Gliding, halting, scarcely breathing, he pulled himself along, and
+great beads of perspiration started on his forehead and trickled
+down into his eyes.
+
+The darkness was useful in one way, but it had its disadvantages.
+He had no idea what progress he was making, and it seemed ages
+before his hand came against what he thankfully realized was the
+bark of a tree. Almost simultaneously there was a blinding flash of
+lightning, so vivid that for a full moment the sleeping camp lay
+revealed, and Eustace had time to grasp the fact that he was well
+within the outskirts of the wood. The crash of thunder almost
+overhead brought him to his feet. Now was the time to make some
+pace, in the dense darkness, under cover of that merciful noise.
+Eustace was not the least afraid of thunder and lightning; he was
+used to tremendous storms, and loved nothing better than to stand
+out on the veranda to watch one raging round among the hills or out
+at sea. Now it was a positive blessing. Every flash showed him
+where he was, and he took care to have a tree trunk between himself
+and the camp. Then during the thunder bursts he made his way
+swiftly forward, groping cautiously like a blind man. His spirits
+rose with the excitement, and all his courage came back to him.
+
+By the time the storm had grumbled itself away into the distance he
+knew he was well out of sight of the camp, and he dared to sit down
+to wait for dawn. Without the aid of the lightning it was folly to
+plunge farther into the scrub.
+
+In spite of a stern resolve not even to let himself doze, the tired
+boy must have slept awhile, sitting with his back against a tree.
+There was just a first glimmer of light penetrating the thick
+foliage above when he opened his eyes with a sudden definite
+feeling of something having roused him.
+
+Very much on the alert, instantly he raised his head, and sat
+listening with held breath. He was beginning to think he must have
+been mistaken, when there came a sound that made his hair stand on
+end and his blood run cold. He got up swiftly but softly, and
+stood, still backed by the tree, staring into the gloom. The sound
+seemed to come from what looked like a dense thicket not very far
+to the right, but as yet it was not light enough to distinguish
+objects from each other.
+
+"Is it some animal, or a native, or what can it be?" Eustace
+questioned, feeling most horribly shaky.
+
+There was a long pause, and then the silence was once more broken
+by a deep, heavy groan--something like a long sobbing sigh.
+
+The boy was paralyzed with horror. Besides which, to have moved, to
+have gone forward, would have been useless in this half light. He
+could have done nothing, seen nothing. There was nothing for it but
+to wait till daybreak. He could not bring himself to sit down
+again; there is always a feeling of being ready for anything when
+one is standing.
+
+There was another long interval, and then this awful sound came
+once more--slow, laboured, intensely painful. There could be no
+doubt that something or some one was suffering inexpressibly not
+twenty yards away. The voice was like the voice of a man having a
+nightmare, and trying to call some one to help him. The third time
+the sound came Eustace almost fancied it contained a word--"Help."
+
+Five times he heard it, and every time it was exactly the same in
+tone and duration. Each time he became more persuaded that it was a
+muffled cry for help.
+
+The light was coming at last. Soon he would be able to venture
+forward and find out what horrible secret the thicket held.
+
+The boy sank down on his knees and prayed with all his might for
+strength to face whatever it might be for at the thought of the
+ordeal before him he could have turned and fled. He stood up again
+as white as a sheet, but resolute, and ashamed of the temptation.
+
+"Who is there?" he demanded in a hoarse, shaky voice unlike his
+own.
+
+His throat was parched, his lips dry. He had not spoken a word for
+two nights and a day; it was scarcely wonderful speech was
+difficult.
+
+There was no answer for a full minute, and then came that same
+groaning cry again, not as in answer to the question, but at its
+own regular interval.
+
+Following the curve of the thicket a little way, behind a thick
+group of trees Eustace came to a sudden standstill with a cry of
+dismay; for there, standing almost upright in the thickest of the
+scrub, was the figure of a man, his bare head bowed down upon his
+breast so that his face was invisible, his arms hanging down at his
+sides.
+
+It struck Eustace at once as strange that he should be standing
+making this terrible sound. It would not have surprised the boy
+nearly so much to have found him lying down--indeed, that he had
+expected. Bracing himself to the task, Eustace went closer.
+
+"I say," he said in a loud voice, "what's up?"
+
+The man made neither sign nor movement. Could he be tied there to a
+stake? the boy wondered. Was he deaf and blind?
+
+"I say," Eustace said, almost shouting now, "can't you see me?"
+
+Fighting down his own horror of the situation, he pressed a little
+closer, to find the man's shirt torn to shreds, his arms pinioned
+down to his sides by something that looked like small cords.
+
+"It's the 'wait-a-bit' cane!" Eustace exclaimed aloud, shrinking
+back sharply with a quick horror of being entrapped by it himself.
+
+Here was an awful state of affairs. A wretched wayfarer caught and
+held like a fly in a spider's web, and not a soul at hand to help.
+
+To go back to the natives was out of the question. With their
+reputation for cruelty and hatred of white men it would be worse
+than useless to appeal to them. What was to be done? What would Bob
+have done under the circumstances?
+
+With a gasping cry Eustace crept closer again, and bending low he
+strained to catch a glimpse of the man's face without going too
+perilously deep into the thicket.
+
+"Bob," whispered the boy, "Bob, is it you? Oh, speak to me--is it
+you?"
+
+Little fool that he had been not to think of it before. But somehow
+these last hours of terror, centred only upon himself and his own
+means of escape, had blunted his intelligence to everything
+else--even to the remembrance of Bob. He was mad with himself for
+it now--so mad that all thought of personal danger fell away from
+him. He had room for nothing but the realization that this must be
+Bob indeed standing here helpless and dying of privation.
+
+Oh the folly of having waited for the light! But Eustace stayed for
+nothing more now--not even to look at the two sides of the
+question. He dashed against the bushes like a little mad thing,
+recklessly fighting his way towards the imprisoned man.
+
+"Bob, Bob!" he said in a voice choked with sobs.
+
+It was difficult to grasp that this huddled, helpless figure was
+Bob, the big, the strong. But when at last Eustace saw the white,
+drawn face he knew there was no mistake about it.
+
+There came that awful groan again, but this time Eustace did not
+shrink back.
+
+"It's all right, Bob," he said huskily. "I've come now. I'm going
+to help you all I can. You shan't die--you shan't--you shan't."
+
+He spoke the last words through set teeth, for he had taken out his
+clasp-knife, and was hacking at the cruel bonds with all his might.
+
+It needed no explanation to tell Eustace how Bob had got there. The
+thing was as plain as daylight. He must have been riding fast, and
+inadvertently struck against some "wait-a-bit," which rebounded
+like a bit of twisted elastic, and caught him in such a grip that
+he was powerless to free himself. Bolter passed on from beneath,
+and the more he fought and struggled the tighter he became
+entangled. Had his arms been free it would have been different; but
+the strength of the cane was marvellous--moreover, it was covered
+with vicious thorns. That Bob had fought desperately for his life
+was to be seen by the condition of his shirt and his deeply-scored
+skin. He was now in a state of more than semi-unconsciousness from
+exhaustion and starvation; still, at intervals, he half roused
+himself to call for help, as he must have been doing for days.
+
+It was no easy matter to saw through the cane, which was wound
+again and again round him. But bit by bit Eustace worked at it,
+with a ferocity that was bound to tell. He was mad with fear for
+Bob, and madness is said to increase strength extraordinarily.
+
+More by good luck than good guidance the boy was not caught in the
+meshes himself, for he took no care.
+
+As the last coils were cut, and Bob was bereft of his main support,
+he fell gradually to the ground, lying in the pathway Eustace had
+made to reach him, and from there the boy could not move him an
+inch. Perhaps owing to the change of position Bob had stopped
+groaning at last; but though Eustace called him, and implored him
+to speak, if only a word, he made no sign.
+
+"I suppose it is faintness," Eustace thought in deep trouble, for
+this was something so terribly new in Bob. He did not seem the sort
+of fellow who could ever be ill.
+
+Something ought to be done for him, and that quickly; this much
+Eustace knew. At home he would have rushed for water; but here
+where there was none--where there was nothing--what was he to do?
+If only he were a man, and carried a brandy flask, as his father
+always did! A sudden brilliant idea struck him--perhaps Bob carried
+a flask himself!
+
+It was the work of but a few seconds to search him, and to the
+boy's joy he found a little flask full of spirit. It was not very
+long since Eustace had had a practical demonstration of what to do
+with some one in a faint. He remembered Mrs. Robertson's treatment
+of his mother the night of their fright about Becky.
+
+So first he moistened the dry blue lips, then put a few drops
+between them. Oh, it was a tedious, terrifying business--too long
+to describe; and nothing scared Eustace more than the choking and
+gasping with which Bob came to himself at last. But it was the
+turning-point and saving of his life.
+
+It took Bob a long time to pull himself sufficiently together to
+make a sign to Eustace that he knew him. He was far too weak to
+speak at first; but after a long, dazed study of the boy's white,
+miserable face, Bob's lips parted in a pitiful attempt at a smile.
+
+To his own after-annoyance and shame, whenever he remembered it,
+Eustace flung himself face downwards on the ground and fairly
+sobbed. What fear for his own safety and all the horrors he had
+gone through had no power to do, the relaxation of this tension of
+anxiety about Bob did.
+
+"Say, old chap," came in a far-away whisper to his ears, "don't!"
+
+It pulled him up short. Bob's eyes were closed, and he looked so
+like fainting again that Eustace gave him more brandy.
+
+It had a good effect; but later, not even when he had regained his
+full consciousness, could Bob move hand or foot; he was as stiff as
+a log. Just as he had been bound rigidly upright, so he remained
+now lying at full length.
+
+"Guess I'm pretty helpless," he said in a thin, weak voice. "I
+shall have to be oiled before I can move." Then, after a little
+while, when he had been lying staring at his companion meditatively
+some minutes, he said, "Just explain what you are doing here, will
+you?"
+
+From the very beginning--the return of Bolter--Eustace told the
+story of the last few days, and Bob listened with growing eagerness
+in his eyes.
+
+"So you lost yourself finding me," he said at the end. "And there
+isn't a doubt you've saved my life, old boy."
+
+But even this assertion did not cheer Eustace.
+
+"I'm afraid I haven't, though," he said miserably, "because you see
+we are lost."
+
+"Not a bit of it," Bob said. "If I had any legs I could walk you
+out of the wood in two hours. I know the way perfectly."
+
+"Do you?" Eustace exclaimed. "Then what did you come here for?"
+
+"Merely to see if it was true there were any natives in the
+neighbourhood," was the answer. "I never got as far as the camp,
+but my shouts brought a whole lot of them gibbering round me. It
+seemed to amuse them to see me there; but they threatened to kill
+me if I went on shouting, so I had to shut up and hope for the
+best. They have come each day in little batches and watched me
+awhile, then slipped away. At last I began to feel so bad that I
+rather wished they would come and finish me off, to put me out of
+my misery; so I began calling again. But I suppose my voice was too
+weak to matter; they knew I couldn't be heard. Anyhow, the beggars
+didn't touch me. I dare say they'll come again to-day."
+
+Eustace looked scared.
+
+"Oh, I say," he exclaimed, "I hope they won't. They'll take us
+prisoners, and goodness knows what they'll do to us. We must get
+away from here before they come."
+
+"You must," said Bob, "but I can't. You'll have to take my compass,
+and keep going due west with it all the time. You'll know where you
+are the minute you get out into the open."
+
+Eustace stared at him blankly.
+
+"But I couldn't go and leave you," he exclaimed.
+
+"Why not?" asked Bob with a smile.
+
+"How could I," Eustace said warmly, "and you in danger? I just
+won't go. Nothing shall make me."
+
+There was a curious light in Bob's eyes as they rested on the slip
+of a lad kneeling beside him.
+
+"Good old man," he said, "you can't do me any good by staying. For
+both our sakes you must go, and as fast as you can."
+
+"But suppose while I am away--" began Eustace desperately.
+
+"We've got to chance that," said Bob bravely. "You couldn't save my
+life if you stayed; you could only die too, and what would be the
+good of that?"
+
+"I would rather," said Eustace chokily.
+
+"Well, I wouldn't," Bob said firmly. "We mustn't think about
+ourselves in it at all. You've got to go home and set the dear
+home-folks' minds at rest about us. They'll know no peace till they
+hear, one way or another. Then, of course, they'll set out to fetch
+me. You'll guide them. If I am here, well and good. If I am not,
+don't you forget I wouldn't let you stay. You did the only thing
+you could for me by obeying orders."
+
+Eustace hid his face in his hands because his lips were trembling
+so; he felt sick, and shaky all over.
+
+"O Bob," he said, "must I?"
+
+"For my sake, laddie," said Bob softly.
+
+Eustace stood up, but kept his head turned away that Bob should
+still not see his face.
+
+"I do wish," said Bob lightly, "that you could give me a nice slice
+of beef before you go; I'm so hungry."
+
+It was a little bit of chaff to help the boy to pull himself
+together. It worked quite a miracle, for Eustace's face cleared
+instantly.
+
+"Why, how stupid of me!" he said. "I can give you something to eat.
+It was what I couldn't finish of my own."
+
+Out of his pockets he pulled the unappetizing lumps of food he had
+secreted, and kneeling again, he began feeding the helpless man as
+if he had been a baby.
+
+"Upon my word, you are a magician," said Bob, keeping up a cheery
+tone, although he could little more than whisper. "But eat some
+yourself; turn and turn about."
+
+"I don't want any," said the boy.
+
+"Obey," said Bob briskly, with his kind smile.
+
+So they made their strange meal together. It was a small one, but
+quite enough for Bob after his long starvation.
+
+"I ate every leaf and berry within my reach," he told Eustace, "or
+I don't think I should be alive to tell the tale. Lucky for me,
+they were none of them poisonous. When they were done I started on
+chewing twigs, but they didn't go far."
+
+At last Eustace had no excuse to linger. Very unwillingly he rose
+to do Bob's behest. He had never heard of anything so awful as
+leaving him like this to his fate. It seemed the worst kind of
+desertion--something that he would be ashamed of all the days of
+his life.
+
+Bob made him take his watch and chain with the compass on it.
+
+"Keep the compass afterwards if you like," Bob said, "and give my
+love to every one."
+
+Eustace turned sharply away; he could stand no more.
+
+"Good-bye," he said thickly; "I feel a beast."
+
+He took two quick strides forward, and walked right into some one.
+It was the great native chief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A GREAT SURPRISE.
+
+
+Eustace thought he had never seen anything so wicked as the
+chief's grin when he looked down into his astonished face. The
+black-fellow's teeth gleamed like a wolf's. His whole expression
+seemed to say, "Ha, ha! so I've caught you in the very act. You
+don't escape me so easily, you see." He evidently felt an exultant
+satisfaction in frustrating his departure, or he was rejoicing over
+having found him again.
+
+With an overwhelming consciousness of Bob's helplessness, Eustace
+moved back quickly to the prostrate figure, as if to shelter it.
+
+"What's up, old man?" questioned Bob, who from his position could
+see nothing. "You're not shirking, are you?"
+
+The chief came rapidly within range of the sick man's eyes, and
+Bob's face fell most unmistakably. There was disappointment in
+every line of it.
+
+"Phew!" he whistled, "we've lost our chance this time."
+
+Exactly how crestfallen the pair was it would be impossible to
+describe. Not that Bob had harboured any hope for himself. He knew
+the natives would come to him before Eustace could possibly get
+back with assistance, and finding him no longer an amusing
+spectacle, would probably dispatch him. But he had been bent on
+saving the boy's life and sending his message home.
+
+The native chief said something in his rapid, unintelligible
+language, then turned, made a strange call, and began gesticulating
+violently.
+
+Eustace dropped on his knees and hid his face on Bob's tattered
+shirt.
+
+"Buck up, old chap," Bob said softly; "one can only die once. Let's
+show these black-fellows how a Christian and an Englishman can do
+it. You'll get the strength right enough; I'm not a bit afraid of
+your funking."
+
+There was an advancing tramp, a crashing of branches: the chief's
+summons was being rapidly obeyed. With a long shuddering sigh
+Eustace raised himself and knelt upright, gazing down on his hero.
+
+"That's right," said Bob steadily, with his own genial smile
+lighting up his whole face, "keep your eyes on mine; hold on to me
+if you like. I shan't think you a muff, because I know you aren't
+one."
+
+But the boy did not touch him; he kept his hands clasped tightly
+together in a supreme effort to be worthy of Bob's belief in him.
+He heard the new-comers halt. The native spoke and moved aside.
+Then--
+
+"Both of them!" exclaimed a familiar voice. "Thank God for that."
+
+Eustace sank back in a heap on the ground and stared up.
+
+"Father!" cried Bob in astonishment.
+
+It was Mr. Cochrane indeed, and with him Mr. Orban--as haggard a
+pair as could be met with in a long day's march.
+
+It seemed little short of a miracle that they should appear at such
+a juncture, yet the explanation proved simple enough. The native
+chief had fetched them straight to the spot. There was no sort of
+nobility in the act: the man knew enough of white men's ways to
+expect a big reward. Bob he did not know; but when Eustace appeared
+on the scene he recognized the boy as belonging to the master of
+the neighbouring plantation, whom he had seen many times from a
+distance as he rode through the Bush. Mr. Orban was out with Mr.
+Cochrane making a frantic search of the entire neighbourhood when
+the chief arrived, and he would communicate his business to no one
+else. Not that it is likely any one else would have understood him
+or followed him as Mr. Orban did the moment he arrived home. The
+language was unintelligible to both men; but putting two and two
+together in their great anxiety, they made out that the chief could
+lead them where they would find something of interest to
+themselves. They had not dared to hope he knew the whereabouts of
+both their sons, or to speculate which they should find; they did
+not even know whether they were being taken to the living or the
+dead.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll have a bit of bother getting me home," said Bob;
+"I'm as stiff as a board, and can't move hand or foot."
+
+Then he told his story, and how Eustace had found him, and to all
+intents and purposes saved his life.
+
+"And you, Eustace," said Mr. Orban--"how did you come here?"
+
+When Eustace came to the description of the answering coo-ee on the
+banks of the creek, Mr. Orban interrupted him.
+
+"That was only an echo. I knew there was one there, but I never
+thought of telling you."
+
+"Thank God you didn't," said Mr. Cochrane, "and that he made the
+mistake. We should never have found Bob but for that."
+
+"Father," Eustace said anxiously, "you won't forget poor old
+Bolter, will you? This black-fellow has got him in the camp over
+there."
+
+"I had quite forgotten him," Mr. Orban said; "and we shall need him
+too."
+
+Their own horses were quietly waiting a little distance back. By
+means of much gesticulation--pointing towards the horses, and then
+in the direction of the camp--the chief was made to understand what
+was wanted; and after a little demur he went away to fetch Bolter,
+but certainly most grudgingly.
+
+The journey back to the plantation was one that none of the party
+could ever forget. The difficulty of conveying the helpless Bob,
+the suffering he so bravely tried to endure, and the terrible time
+it took, were indescribable.
+
+It had of course been necessary to tell both mothers of the loss of
+their sons. Mrs. Cochrane and Trixy had gone immediately to the
+Orbans' house as more central for obtaining news.
+
+Mr. Orban dispatched one coolie from the plantation for the doctor,
+who lived fifteen miles away. Another man he sent up the hill as
+fast as he could go with a note preparing his wife for their
+arrival, and the whole white-faced party was out waiting for it as
+the slow procession--Bob on a stretcher in the midst--wound its way
+to the house.
+
+The joy of the meeting was lost sight of in the anxiety, for Bob
+was by this time delirious with pain, Eustace so weak that he was
+nearly fainting.
+
+For the next ten days the house was no better than a hospital--its
+central interest the condition of the two patients within its
+walls; but the first day Bob and Eustace were brought out on to the
+veranda--two white-faced shadows of themselves--Bob laughingly
+called it the convalescent home.
+
+Up to that point everything was, as Nesta expressed it, horrid; but
+when Bob was about again, even if his voice was weaker, his laugh a
+ghost of itself, matters at once began to improve.
+
+They were all sitting together enjoying the cool of the evening.
+
+"What I can't understand," said Nesta meditatively, breaking a long
+pause, "is why the black-fellows wouldn't let Eustace answer
+father's coo-ee."
+
+"It is quite simple," said Mr. Orban. "The chief had evidently
+given strict orders he was not to be allowed to go in his absence,
+and they were afraid we should come and take him away. Then the
+chief would have got no reward."
+
+"What I can't understand," said Peter, who never remained long in
+the background, "is why the black-fellows didn't cut Bob down. It
+was wicked of them."
+
+"That's what I think," said Nesta. "If they left him because they
+thought it funny, I wish they could be tortured."
+
+"Nesta, Nesta, my darling!" said Mrs. Orban warningly.
+
+"I suppose," said Miss Chase softly, "the poor things have no
+knowledge of mercy."
+
+"None," said Mr. Cochrane, who was over spending the evening; "and
+they wouldn't understand it if you showed them any, either."
+
+"No heathens ever do," said Mrs. Orban, "and how should they? They
+have no Great Example to follow as we have. It is the people who
+have the chance of knowing better, and still are cruel and
+heartless, that I would have tortured--if any one."
+
+Mr. Orban gave a soft laugh.
+
+"If any one, indeed, wife," he said. "You know as well as I do that
+you wouldn't have a spider hurt for torturing a fly."
+
+Every one laughed with him except Mrs. Orban herself. Her tender
+heart was as good as a fable in the household. But she said quite
+gravely,--
+
+"You have chosen a bad example for once, Jack. A spider is as
+ignorant as a heathen. It has only its own nature to follow."
+
+"Got the worst of it there, Mr. Orban," said Bob in an amused tone.
+
+"Talking of cruelty," remarked Miss Chase, "what do you do to your
+unfortunate cows here at night? I never heard such a dismal noise
+as they make."
+
+"Cows!" exclaimed every one in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, cows," was the answer. "If you listen you can hear them now."
+
+There was an instant hush, followed by renewed peals of laughter.
+
+"Those aren't cows I advise you to go and sympathize with, Miss
+Chase," said Bob. "We call them alligators hereabouts, and at the
+present minute they are lying on the banks of the creek wishing a
+nice, tasty supper would come strolling along."
+
+"There are alligators in the river, and yet Nesta says you boat on
+it and bathe in it!" exclaimed Miss Chase. "What extraordinary
+people you are!"
+
+"There are alligators one side of the bar and sharks the other, and
+one often upsets going over it in rough weather," said Bob
+cheerfully.
+
+"How horrible!" said Miss Chase.
+
+"When Aunt Dorothy saw a tarantula strolling round the table
+towards her the other day she nearly had a fit," said Peter.
+
+"Don't tell tales out of school, Peter Perky," said Aunt Dorothy.
+"A poor, ignorant Englishwoman isn't expected to be brave when she
+sees a spider as big as a penny bun, with furry legs in proportion,
+trying to sit on her knee."
+
+"Then, so far, Miss Chase," said Bob, with a twinkle in his eyes,
+"you are not infatuated with our Bush life?"
+
+"Have you and Eustace given me much chance to be?" she asked. "You
+must confess you did not give me a very good first impression by
+both running away and losing yourselves. We don't think that sort
+of thing necessary for the entertainment of our friends in England.
+Spiders are spiders there, too, not animated penny buns, and our
+cows don't want to eat us."
+
+"Oh, of course," said Bob, "everything is perfect in England--isn't
+it, Nesta?"
+
+"It has some advantages," said Mrs. Orban. "I think the absence of
+these excitements is amongst them."
+
+She was looking very worn out after her recent experiences.
+
+"Well, it's my opinion, my dear," said Mr. Orban, "that with your
+little family you would have excitements wherever you went. It has
+seemed fated to give you one shock after another."
+
+"Only just lately, Jack," was the gentle response, for Mrs. Orban
+caught a contrite expression in Eustace's eyes.
+
+"It was the coming of the witch that did it," said Bob. "As soon as
+she started for Queensland queer things began happening over here.
+She wanted to make you out of conceit with life here, so that she
+could more easily bewitch you over to England. That was her spell."
+
+"And the queer thing is," said Mr. Orban quite gravely, "that it
+has acted. She is going to take them all away from me when she
+goes--wife, and sons, and daughters."
+
+"Father," exclaimed Nesta, "what are you saying?"
+
+"Is it a story, daddy?" demanded Peter.
+
+"No, the solemn truth," said Mr. Orban.
+
+"I don't understand," said Eustace blankly.
+
+"How should you when so much nonsense is being talked?" said his
+mother. "But the fact is, father thinks a change of air would do us
+all a great deal of good; and as grannie wants us, and has sent us
+our passage money--"
+
+"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Nesta, "don't go on, mummie. You make it sound
+just as if it were real, and it _will_ be so disappointing to have
+to _un_-fancy it again."
+
+But Eustace said breathlessly,--
+
+"Mother, _is_ it true?"
+
+"Quite true," was the grave answer. "We sail the end of next month.
+It is all settled."
+
+"What did I say?" said Bob in mock despair. "She'll take you away,
+and you'll never come back any more."
+
+"Oh, there you are quite wrong, Bob," said Mrs. Orban. "If Dorothy
+is a witch, Jack is a wizard, and he will magic us all back again
+in a year and a day at latest."
+
+"Well, I simply can't believe it," said Nesta.
+
+"It's the queerest thing I have ever heard," said Eustace.
+
+But Peter set up such yells of delight he had to be repressed by
+the early-to-bed threat--always a useful one when Peter became
+rampageous, for he hated going to bed at any time.
+
+That evening no one could talk of anything but this trip to
+England. No matter what subject was started, everything harked back
+to this wonderful plan, which Mr. Orban had been thinking out for
+some time, only confiding in his wife and Miss Chase as long as the
+matter was undecided. Bob kept up the appearance of being utterly
+woebegone, and Nesta and Peter seemed to have turned into machines
+for asking questions.
+
+Of the party only Eustace was silent, and presently Nesta noticed
+the fact.
+
+"Aren't you most awfully glad?" she asked.
+
+"I don't know," said Eustace slowly.
+
+"Goodness!" said Nesta in a bustling tone, "you've always said you
+wanted to go."
+
+"That was when I knew we couldn't," replied Eustace, scarcely
+thinking what he was saying.
+
+"What a funny thing to say," said Nesta. "But you _do_ still want
+to go, don't you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Eustace.
+
+"Well, you are a queer boy," said Nesta in rather a disgusted tone.
+"I call that silly."
+
+"I think I know just what Eustace means," said Miss Chase quietly.
+"He wants to get there without going--to be there without leaving
+home. It is how I felt about coming here."
+
+"I don't understand a bit," said Nesta, with a shake of her head.
+
+"I do," said Bob. "One knows what one is leaving, but one doesn't
+know what one is going to. It is a toss-up whether there is to be
+any happiness in the venture. But I prophesy the witch will see to
+it you don't want to come back in a hurry. You'll enjoy yourself no
+end."
+
+"Why, Bob," exclaimed Nesta in astonishment, "how you have changed!
+That is all the opposite to what you have always said before."
+
+"Is it?" said Bob lamely. "Well, I suppose I must be bewitched too.
+What do you expect when you will import such things into the
+country?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+A MOONLIGHT DISTURBANCE.
+
+
+"Aunt Dorothy's cows" became as great a family joke as "Aunt
+Dorothy's lunatics;" indeed, scarcely a day passed that the
+household was not amused by some quaint mistake of hers. Every one
+chaffed her, especially Bob; and as the two patients rapidly
+recovered, the house-party was a merry one. In spite of the thought
+of parting with his family so soon, Mr. Orban was in much better
+spirits; the cane had been safely cut, the good crop had been
+spoiled neither by fire nor the rainy season coming too soon, and
+the crushing was well in progress.
+
+"Oh dear," exclaimed Nesta one morning at breakfast, "I am so sorry
+you are getting well, Bob."
+
+"Very kind of you, I'm sure," said Bob with deliberate politeness.
+"One is always so glad of one's friends' good wishes."
+
+Every one laughed except Nesta.
+
+"Well, you know what I mean," she said. "Of course the minute you
+are well you will go, and the house will be duller than ever
+without you."
+
+"Very prettily put for the rest of us, dear," said Miss Chase. "I
+am sure we feel much complimented."
+
+"I don't know what you mean," said Nesta in bewilderment. "I didn't
+mean to compliment any one."
+
+"You achieved it, however," said Bob. "You called them a pack of
+dull dogs not fit to live with. Of course they feel charmed with
+your opinion."
+
+"Oh, I didn't," said Nesta.
+
+"You inferred it," said Miss Chase. "However, we forgive you.
+Fortunately we shan't be able to die of dullness entirely, because
+there will be so much to be done preparing for the voyage."
+
+"I vote Bob stays with us till we go," said Eustace.--"He would be
+jolly useful, wouldn't he, mother?"
+
+"Really, Eustace," remonstrated Mrs. Orban with a laugh, "I am
+ashamed of you. Is that the way you treat your friends?"
+
+Eustace reddened and looked uncomfortable as the laugh went round.
+Glancing deprecatingly at Bob, he found that he was not even
+smiling. It did seem a cheeky way of putting it.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he began, when Bob interrupted quickly.
+
+"No, don't. I was only thinking what a jolly thing you had said.
+What are friends for if they are not to be made use of?"
+
+"That is rather a dangerous theory to propound," said Mr. Orban.
+"Supposing your friends take advantage of it--what then?"
+
+"A real friend never would take advantage of it," said Bob with
+certainty; "that is just how you can test him. The chap who will
+take nothing from you, but only give, is a patronizing bounder; the
+fellow who will give nothing to you, but only take, is a mean
+beggar; the man who will give and take equally is your chum. Hold
+on to him when you've got him."
+
+"An excellent definition, Bob," said Mr. Orban, with a genial
+smile. "We shall certainly never let you go."
+
+There was a second's pause, then Bob said quietly,--
+
+"Thank you, sir. I guess I shall hold on to all of you too."
+
+It took Nesta to the end of breakfast to unravel the meaning of the
+sudden gravity that had fallen over the party, and then she was not
+sure of herself.
+
+"Why, you silly," said Eustace, to whom she appealed in private,
+"don't you see?--Father as good as said it--Bob is the right kind
+of chap to have for a chum. And so he is. I guess I know that
+better than any one."
+
+"I don't see why you should," exclaimed Nesta jealously. "We all
+know Bob; he isn't anybody's in particular. He said himself he
+meant to hold on to _all_ of us, not just one person only."
+
+Her tone was "snubby" in the extreme, but Eustace was utterly
+silent for a moment.
+
+Nesta did not know it; he would never know it himself; but there
+was a big difference in Eustace nowadays. He had not gone through
+great experiences untouched; some things in life leave an indelible
+impression.
+
+"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "I'm glad he said that."
+
+Nesta was so astonished at getting no response to her assertion
+that she exclaimed,--
+
+"Said what?"
+
+"Why, that he will hold on to us," Eustace said.
+
+"Well," Nesta remarked, again with a touch of superiority, "of
+course we all knew that without his telling us."
+
+Eustace eyed her with a quietness that somehow irritated the girl.
+She could not understand him at all, and nothing annoyed Nesta so
+much as to discover she was not understanding something that was
+perfectly clear to somebody else.
+
+"Didn't you know it?" she asked sharply.
+
+"Of course," said Eustace dreamily.
+
+"Then what do you mean?" Nesta demanded.
+
+"I was thinking about going to England," was the seemingly
+irrelevant reply.
+
+"What has that got to do with it?" said Nesta.
+
+"Everything," Eustace said. "If we had been going to stay here for
+ever and ever I shouldn't have thought so much about it. As it is,
+it means a lot that good old Bob won't forget us."
+
+"Why, how stupid you are to-day," Nesta exclaimed. "Did you think
+he might in 'a year and a day,' as mother calls it?"
+
+"How do you know it will be only 'a year and a day'?" Eustace said
+almost roughly. "How do you know we shall ever come back?"
+
+"Eustace!" cried Nesta, staring at him as if she thought he must
+have suddenly gone mad.
+
+"Well?" he said briefly.
+
+"But this is home--and father is staying here," the girl argued.
+"We couldn't stay in England for ever."
+
+"I don't know," said Eustace. "I've got an awfully queer feeling
+about going ever since it was settled. And it seems to me Bob has
+it too."
+
+"Oh, stuff!" said Nesta bracingly. "Bob only says it to tease Aunt
+Dorothy."
+
+"He said just the same things before Aunt Dorothy came," was the
+response. "That is nothing to go by."
+
+"Well, neither are your queer feelings," said Nesta. "I haven't
+any. I don't see why we should stay in England. What is to make
+us?"
+
+"Suppose we were left there to go to school?" suggested Eustace,
+watching her narrowly.
+
+Nesta stared at him blankly. It was evidently a new idea to her.
+
+"Do you think we might be?" she said; then her expression broke,
+and she smiled. "It would be just splendid, wouldn't it?" she
+added.
+
+Eustace was silent a moment.
+
+"You wouldn't mind leaving Trixy?" he said.
+
+"Well, I should come back again," Nesta answered, feeling somehow
+annoyingly rebuked, "and I should have such loads and shoals of
+things to tell her and show her. All about the girls and my
+clothes, you know--"
+
+"Oh," exclaimed Eustace in a tone of disgust, "that is all girls
+care about--talking, and showing off."
+
+"It isn't," Nesta said quickly. "I should like the learning."
+
+"Well, I shouldn't," admitted Eustace frankly; "I hate learning. It
+is only games that make school worth going to, and that isn't
+enough to make up for other things."
+
+"What other things?" asked Nesta curiously.
+
+"Oh, never mind," said Eustace impatiently; "I don't want to talk
+about it."
+
+But Nesta did exceedingly; she wanted to talk of nothing else; till
+at last Eustace went off in desperation down the hill to watch the
+sugar crushing, saying something about, "It isn't as if people
+could come back to Queensland for the holidays," and "Everything
+would be different when they were all grown up."
+
+"I don't know what is the matter with him," Nesta said to herself
+in perplexity. "I do believe he doesn't want to go at all. And I'm
+sure he is wrong about our staying there. No such luck!"
+
+Bob did stay on after he was quite well and strong, and he entirely
+justified Eustace's prophecy. He proved most useful; nothing
+apparently could have been done without him. "But for Bob," said
+Mrs. Orban, "I don't believe we should ever be ready in time."
+
+It was he who saw to the soundness of the travelling boxes, to the
+making of a packing case; he who had advice and assistance to give
+to every one, and who was certainly the life and spirit of the
+party in the evenings when other people seemed tired or out of
+heart. Eustace was not at all in good form. Mrs. Orban was at times
+inclined to have grave misgivings as to the wisdom of the step, and
+of course felt leaving her husband. Mr. Orban himself, though he
+insisted on the trip, was naturally a little sad at the prospect.
+Even Aunt Dorothy--the witch--had her moments of sadness that her
+visit should be drawing so rapidly to a close. Only to Nesta and
+Peter did the time seem to drag and hang heavy, as if it would
+never pass.
+
+"You'll have to come back with them, Miss Chase," said Bob a few
+evenings before the great departure.
+
+"I wish I could," she said; "but I am quite sure mother and father
+won't see the force of that."
+
+"Well, I think you ought to--don't you, Mrs. Orban?" Bob said.
+"Miss Chase hasn't had half enough Colonial experiences yet."
+
+"The few you have given me have been sufficiently vivid to count
+for a good many though," said the girl merrily. "I don't know that
+I really want any more."
+
+"One doesn't always want what is good for one," said Bob. "Besides,
+there is another way of looking at it--isn't there, Nesta? It has
+been proved you are a witch. You ought to be brought back by main
+force to be punished for whisking these good people all off to
+England with you."
+
+"So she ought," said Nesta gleefully. "She must be burned at the
+stake. We'll make you come."
+
+"We will, Aunt Dorothy," cried Peter, ready for the fray; "and if
+you won't, we'll get Bob to come and fetch you."
+
+"Will you really, Peter Perky?" retorted Aunt Dorothy. "I should
+like to see you. Why, Mr. Cochrane wouldn't set his nose inside
+England for all the witches in the world."
+
+"Well, no, perhaps not for all the witches in the world," said Bob
+thoughtfully; "they might prove rather too much for me. But what a
+lot of nonsense we talk, to be sure."
+
+The nonsense had the effect of sending Miss Chase to bed quite
+unusually meditative, and, do what she would, she could not get off
+to sleep for wondering whether she ever would come back to
+Queensland again. It seemed of all things most impossible, and yet,
+as she argued, who would ever have thought of her coming at all
+this time only a year ago?
+
+She had become accustomed to most of the night sounds that had at
+first puzzled and sometimes frightened her, and by day there was
+something about the life that delighted her--it was so free, such
+an open air existence! "They seem to me to sweep all their worries
+with the dust over the edge of the veranda," she thought. "I think
+England will feel a little stiff and shut in after it."
+
+It was a bright moonlight night. A deluded cock at about midnight
+awoke and fancied it must be day. He crowed so loudly over his
+discovery that he roused a great enemy of his, who replied in husky
+irritation and no measured terms that he was a fool. But the
+mischief was done--some half-dozen young cockerels took the matter
+up as a joke, and crowed persistently in spite of all remonstrance
+from the rest of the poultry.
+
+Miss Chase put her head under the bedclothes and tried to shut out
+the sound, but in vain. Besides, it was far too hot to sleep with a
+buried nose and mouth. Resolutely keeping her eyes tight shut, she
+set her mind upon nothing but sleep. She must have lain like that
+for quite ten minutes, when suddenly her eyes unclosed in spite of
+her, just as if they were worked by a spring, and she was as wide
+awake as ever. At least so she fancied the first instant, but the
+next she thought she must be dreaming. There had been no
+sound--nothing but Nesta's regular breathing--and yet at the other
+side of the room, standing with his back towards her, was the
+figure of a man.
+
+Her first impulse was to call out, her second prompted caution, and
+she pinched herself hard to make sure whether she was awake or
+not. There was no doubt about it--she was not asleep; the pinch
+hurt considerably, and the man was still there. He was apparently
+examining the things on her dressing-table minutely, and she
+guessed he was looking for valuables. Knowing the story of the dark
+visitor who had frightened every one so before her arrival, Miss
+Chase had followed the general rule and left nothing of any value
+lying about, though no one thought a thief would venture into the
+house now that it was so full. Here he certainly was, however, and
+the question was, "What ought she to do?"
+
+Miss Chase lay absolutely still, her heart beating to suffocation,
+her mind working rapidly. There was no saying that this was the
+same man. He might be of a much more desperate and vicious
+character. Had she been alone she might have risked screaming for
+help, but there was also Nesta to be considered; she dared not
+expose the child to a knock on the head to silence her.
+
+The man took a slow tour of the room, peering into nooks and
+corners in a stealthy, silent way that was most eerie to watch.
+Miss Chase bore it until at last he went towards Nesta's bed with
+that cat-like, sinister gait. The horror of his approaching the
+helpless sleeper at the other side of the room was too much for the
+girl's strained nerves. His back was towards her; he fancied her
+asleep. Slipping her hand under her pillow she drew out a small
+revolver, then sat up softly and took careful aim. There was a
+report, a howl of fear and pain, and the man turned to gaze wildly
+round the room. Nesta sprang from her bed with a terrified yell and
+rushed to her aunt, who sat, still pointing her weapon at the
+intruder, with a look of grim determination in her eyes.
+
+With a heavy groan the man started towards the window, limping
+pitifully. He disappeared out on to the veranda, leaving a trail of
+blood across the uncarpeted floor.
+
+"Now go for your father," said Miss Chase, giving the trembling
+girl a push. "Tell him what has happened."
+
+Nesta needed no second bidding, but she had not reached the door
+before it opened and Mr. Orban dashed in.
+
+"Through there," said Miss Chase, pointing towards the window.
+"Follow the blood track. He can't go fast. I winged him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WHO IS IN THE BOAT?
+
+
+"Really, Miss Chase," said Bob next morning, "I'm glad you didn't
+burst all your accomplishments on us at once. We might have been
+rather frightened of you."
+
+Miss Chase smiled. She was looking very pale, and unlike her usual
+bright self.
+
+"I hope I didn't do an awfully wrong thing," she said nervously;
+"but I had only two definite ideas--one was to save Nesta, the
+other not to let the man get away."
+
+"You were perfectly right, Dorothy," Mr. Orban said; "there would
+never have been any end to the worry until he was caught. He may
+thank his stars I didn't find him out. I should not have been so
+merciful."
+
+"So that is why you aimed at his ankle, Aunt Dorothy?" said
+Eustace. "It was clever of you to think of laming him."
+
+"She says she did," said Bob, the tease.--"But are you quite sure,
+Miss Chase, that you really didn't aim at his head? For most women
+his ankle would have been wonderfully near the mark."
+
+"I shall treat the aspersion with silent contempt," laughed Miss
+Chase.
+
+"Where did you learn to shoot like that, Dorothy?" asked Mrs.
+Orban.
+
+"Oh, I've patronized every shooting gallery that has come to the
+village for the last eighteen years, I should think," was the
+answer. "But, do you know, I feel most awfully remorseful about
+that poor fellow. He will be lame for a long time."
+
+In the kitchen sat Manuel, the stable-boy, his leg bandaged and
+resting on a chair; for the midnight visitor on both occasions had
+been no other. He confessed to the first performance quite readily,
+and declared that this second had been at the instigation of Sinkum
+Fung, who promised always to get the reward for stolen goods, and
+give him half. Mr. Orban was not sorry to get hold of some definite
+reason for turning Sinkum Fung out of the place. He had long
+suspected him to be a cheat, and he wanted an Englishman in the
+store. But Manuel, when he was well, was to be allowed to retrieve
+his character, as he protested vehemently he would.
+
+"You needn't worry about Manuel," said Bob. "We shall all be coming
+to you to shoot us, if you'll just bind us up as beautifully
+afterwards. Did you learn that in the shooting galleries too, in
+case you put the showman's eye out?"
+
+Miss Chase really did treat this speech with silent scorn, and
+changed the subject.
+
+The clearing up of the black-fellow mystery was a great relief to
+every one's mind.
+
+"Though it comes rather late in the day, just when we are going
+away," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Do you know, I don't feel a bit as if we were really going," Miss
+Chase declared the very evening before their departure.
+
+All the same, when the next day came, they started in the
+plantation schooner for Cooktown, accompanied by Bob and Mr. Orban,
+who were going to see them off.
+
+The children found many excitements on the way; and when finally
+they were hoisted on board the big boat by means of a crane and
+basket, Peter's joy knew no bounds.
+
+Nesta found it was certainly not very nice saying the last
+"good-byes," and she wished Eustace had not said anything to her
+about the possibility of not coming back to Queensland for years.
+
+But when they were fairly off, and out of sight of waving hands and
+the two strong, kind faces that had been his ideals from his
+babyhood, even Eustace began to cheer up considerably. He had been
+very much like a bear with a sore head, rather to his mother's and
+Miss Chase's astonishment; for Eustace could generally be counted
+on as sensible and fairly serene in temper. To get short answers
+from him, to find him unreasonably uninterested in things, and to
+see him really snappy with Nesta and Peter, was something new and
+extraordinary.
+
+"Well, good-bye, old chap," said Bob. "Let England see the best
+side of you, and be a credit to us."
+
+The words rang in the boy's ears long after, and he pulled himself
+together with a sudden consciousness that he had not been much of a
+credit to any one for some days. He hoped Bob hadn't noticed it,
+for never, never could he explain to him that it was just the
+thought of leaving him that made going away so hard. If only he
+had not been possessed by the horrible feeling that he would never
+come back again, or at least not for years and years, it would have
+been different.
+
+It was impossible not to become interested in the boat before very
+long--it was so huge, such a real house afloat, and so unusual.
+Peter revelled in going downstairs to bed. Becky wanted to play in
+what she called her "bunky-bye" instead of going to sleep. Nesta
+eyed some other families of children speculatively, wondering how
+much good they would prove as friends on the voyage. But Eustace
+only wanted to talk to the officers, especially the captain, of
+whom he determined to ask hundreds of questions about the
+machinery, how he knew his way, and the exact time the boat would
+reach every port, just to be able to check it off, and see how far
+he was right in his estimates.
+
+The first day was a lovely one--a less likely one to be productive
+of adventures could scarcely be imagined.
+
+"Calm as a duck-pond, isn't it, sir?" said one of the seamen to
+Eustace, who stood staring out to sea. "Yet I've seen some storms
+here too. It's a nasty bit of coast, with some ugly reefs about."
+
+"Are there many wrecks here?" asked Eustace with interest.
+
+"A goodish few," said the seaman; "but one doesn't look for them
+this kind of weather."
+
+"No, of course not," said Eustace, with a great show of certainty,
+for he did not want the man to imagine he was scaring him.
+
+Peter had been fairly irrepressible all day. He was always a
+fidget--made on springs, his father said--and the excitement
+carried him away entirely. He talked to every one indiscriminately,
+especially if they happened to be in uniform, and had no shyness in
+asking questions. He had a dozen friends in a very few hours.
+Afraid lest he should weary people, Mrs. Orban tried to keep him
+with her, and towards evening she said,--
+
+"You might play with poor Becky a little, Peter. She will have to
+go to bed very soon, and I think it has been a duller day for her
+than for any one else."
+
+Which was probably true, as Becky was too tiny to have the
+sustained interest in things the others had.
+
+So Peter began a game of romps with Becky, which at first consisted
+of careering round and round and in and out between their mother's
+and aunt's chairs, Peter making the reiterated assertion, "I'll
+catch you, I'll catch you," Becky retorting with delighted
+chuckles, "Oo can't, oo can't!"
+
+Mrs. Orban was just congratulating herself that Becky would be
+delightfully sleepy after the exercise, when the child made a
+sudden dive away from the chairs in her excitement, Peter behind
+her. The next minute she was rolling head over heels down the
+companion-ladder, down which it had evidently been her intention to
+go right side up, for a joke.
+
+The yells that proceeded from the passage below assured every one
+that Becky was not killed; but when she was picked up it was
+discovered that one poor little wrist was terribly sprained. She
+must have fallen with it doubled under her. To put her to bed in
+such pain was out of the question; her mother's arms was the only
+place in which she could find any rest. So Mrs. Orban remained on
+deck in the cool with Miss Chase near her. The children's bedtime
+was quite forgotten; in fact, after the doctor had examined Becky
+and reported on her injuries, Nesta, Eustace, and Peter had
+disappeared--probably out of range of orders to go to bed. Their
+mother, when she gave them a thought, supposed them to be all
+together, and in her anxiety over Becky never realized how late it
+was getting.
+
+It was quite dark. All the other children had disappeared. Most of
+the grown-ups who had begun the voyage together, and were friendly
+by now, were in the music-room below having a concert. The ship was
+utterly still but for the throb of the engines and the "swish" of
+the water as the bows cut through it. They were running at full
+speed, without a pitch or a roll, the sea as clear as glass, when
+all of a sudden there was an awful crash, and the boat shuddered
+from bow to stern.
+
+In an instant the peaceful scene was changed to one of wildest
+confusion. There were cries of terror, hurried questions, rapid
+orders, the crew dashing hither and thither, and a stream of
+horror-stricken people began swarming up from below. It was awful,
+the intense darkness of the night adding to the confusion
+immeasurably.
+
+"We've struck on a rock," Mrs. Orban heard some one say. "There
+isn't a minute to lose."
+
+"Man the boats!" called a strident voice, and there was a running
+of ropes over pulleys, a creaking and a splashing not far away.
+
+"Here you are, ma'am," a seaman said, taking her by the arm.
+
+"Oh, the children!" said Mrs. Orban, holding back.
+
+"We're here, mother," said Nesta's voice at her elbow.
+
+"We'll see to them, ma'am," said the seaman; "you and the little
+one first."
+
+He was almost rough in his kindness; and Mrs. Orban found herself
+swinging down into the boat below before she had time to make any
+protestations.
+
+One after another, through pitch darkness into the only chance for
+safety, people were sent down. It was impossible to know who
+came--nothing could be seen or heard. The seamen above could not
+stop to pick and choose, but whoever they could lay hands on went.
+
+Then came a hoarse cry--the boat was becoming overcrowded, the crew
+pushed off, and away they went with a bound at every stroke of the
+oars. To Mrs. Orban it was a hideous nightmare of awful anxiety.
+She could not tell whether all her children and her sister were
+with her or not. Her one ray of hope was that as they had
+apparently been all standing close together, the others must have
+been put in after her. But people had rushed so the moment they
+knew the boats were lowered, there was an awful possibility the
+children had been swept aside. They were certainly not near her,
+for she called their names and Dorothy's again and again, and there
+was no answer.
+
+The men had not been rowing for seven minutes when there was a
+sudden awful sound behind them, and the boat plunged and rocked as
+if she were a living thing gone mad with terror.
+
+"Oh, what was that?" Mrs. Orban cried, and the question ran from
+mouth to mouth.
+
+"The ship," answered a solemn voice with a break in it; "she's gone
+under, poor thing. Must have been ripped from bows to stern."
+
+The silence that followed was dreadful. How many boats had got
+away? Who was left on board? There was not one in the boat who had
+not a thought of agonized pity for the poor souls left behind.
+
+It was so unexpected; every one was so unprepared. Who could
+suppose that with a sea as calm as a mill-pond a great vessel could
+strike on a rock and sink in less than seven minutes?
+
+Afterwards, when the matter came to be investigated, it was
+discovered that the _Cora_ had run on to a coral reef unmarked in
+the charts. Coral reefs form with extraordinary rapidity, and are
+infinitely dangerous, because they are so sharp as to cut like
+razors. The loss of the _Cora_ was no one's fault; but that fact
+was of but little comfort to those whose friends went down in her.
+
+The boat pulled steadily on awhile, then paused, for no one could
+be certain where she lay as regarded the shore.
+
+"Easy, mates," said the man in command. "We must hang about till
+there's a gleam of light to give us our bearings, or we shall go
+down like that poor thing over there."
+
+In the hush that fell it was possible to hear each other speak.
+People began to question who was in the boat with them.
+
+"Eustace, Nesta, Peter, are you there?" cried Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Yes, mother; yes, mother," she heard, and her heart bounded with
+thankfulness.
+
+"And you, Dorothy?" she forced herself to say.
+
+But to this there was no answer.
+
+"Children," Mrs. Orban said, "isn't your aunt there?"
+
+"I don't know," Eustace said; "she wouldn't come before us."
+
+There could be no doubt that Miss Chase was not there.
+
+The first streak of daylight fell upon a boatload of haggard men
+and women, afraid of, yet longing for, the day. It was discovered
+that they had come within half a mile of shore, and the crew pulled
+with a will till they beached the boat. One after another in the
+shadowy gloom the stiff, cramped figures landed. There were
+meetings, but no open rejoicings, because of those others left
+behind.
+
+Eustace and Nesta clung to their mother, half sobbing.
+
+"And Peter," she said--"where is Peter?"
+
+"Peter?" said the other two blankly.
+
+"I thought you said he was there?" said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"We--we answered for ourselves," faltered Eustace. "I didn't notice
+he didn't speak."
+
+The boat was empty now. Groups of shivering, unstrung people stood
+about, utterly incapable of thinking what to do next. But Peter was
+not there--nor was Dorothy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+WHAT THE TIDE BROUGHT IN.
+
+
+The stranded party was much in need of a leader till one of the
+crew volunteered the information that some miles higher up the
+coast there was a bêche-de-mer station where they would probably
+get some means of communicating with the rest of the world, and at
+least find food, of which every one was much in need. Bêche-de-mer
+fisheries are a feature of the coast, the bêche-de-mer being a huge
+sea-slug, thought to be a great delicacy.
+
+This particular station was owned by some half-caste Portuguese,
+and worked by a mixture of aborigines and Malays, a most
+unpromising and ruffianly-looking set. However, they received the
+unhappy boatload quite civilly, promised that a messenger should be
+dispatched across country to the nearest civilized centre, and
+provided a good meal of salt junk, sweet potatoes, rice, and tea.
+It did not matter to the exhausted men and women that they had to
+eat off tin plates, drink out of tin pannikins, and that the food
+was more roughly prepared and served than any they had ever tasted
+before.
+
+They camped under some trees for the meal; and many sad eyes
+looked towards the great calm sea, where not a trace of last
+night's tragedy was to be seen. In the distance there was the sail
+of an outgoing vessel--one of the bêche-de-mer boats off on a
+several months' trip. Besides that, there was just one tiny speck,
+not so far out as the sail, but much smaller.
+
+"It's a boat," said the captain of the station, a swarthy
+Portuguese. He had been watching the speck for some time through a
+telescope. "So far as I can make out it is something of the same
+build as yours."
+
+There was instant excitement. Could it be another of the ship's
+boats?
+
+It seemed an eternity before the boat came close enough to discover
+that she did indeed belong to the ill-fated _Cora_. The crowd on
+the beach was speechless before she pulled in to shore and her
+worn-out occupants were disembarked.
+
+Amongst the anxious watchers were Mrs. Orban, with the fretful,
+feverish Becky in her arms, and Nesta and Eustace. But though they
+pressed forward and saw every man, woman, and child that landed,
+there was no comfort for them. Miss Chase and Peter had not come.
+There was but one interpretation to put on this--they had never
+left the ship.
+
+"Any more boats likely to come?" asked a woman whose husband was
+missing.
+
+"No, lady," said a sailor, shaking his head pitifully. "They only
+got one more out, and she was overcrowded and swamped. There was no
+time for anything."
+
+There is no describing the misery of the day that followed--the
+terrible blankness for many, the haunting recollection that all had
+of the nightmare experience.
+
+The men at the station were as kind as they could be in their rough
+way. The sailors who had manned the boats set to work to arrange
+some comforts for the women and children, improvising hammocks for
+them to lie in, as sleeping in the grass was dangerous on account
+of snakes and other disagreeables.
+
+Poor little Becky spent a day of weeping, for her wrist was very
+painful. She needed all Mrs. Orban's attention, which was perhaps
+fortunate for the poor lady--it gave her less time for brooding
+over her terrible loss. Nesta cried herself nearly silly, and then
+fell asleep in a hammock that a kindly old sailor prevailed on her
+to try.
+
+Eustace was too restless to settle down. He spent his time hovering
+about his white-faced, desolate-looking mother. The moment inaction
+began to tell on him and make him feel sleepy he went away for a
+while, and paced up and down by the water's edge to rouse himself.
+However useless his presence, he could not bear to leave his mother
+lonely and unwatched; it seemed heartless to forget her and her
+sorrows in sleep when she could take no rest.
+
+"She might want something, or perhaps she would like to speak," he
+argued, "or she may cry presently; and there mustn't be no one to
+comfort her."
+
+But Mrs. Orban asked for nothing for herself, only water now and
+then to bandage Becky's wrist. She took the food when it was given
+her, but ate very little. Whatever she was thinking about, she did
+not speak of her trouble, but inquired after Nesta, and whether she
+and Eustace had had plenty of food and felt no symptoms of chill or
+fever.
+
+"I wish father or Bob would come quick," thought the boy
+helplessly; "we're no good. She is only thinking about taking care
+of us all the time; and I don't know how to look after her. It
+would have been better if I had been drowned instead of Aunt
+Dorothy; she would have known what to do."
+
+He was doing one of his violent pacings up and down, and every turn
+backwards or forwards he had to change his course, for the tide was
+running in fast. The sea fascinated him; he could not help watching
+it, especially now when all sorts of bits of wreckage were
+beginning to float in--lengths of rope, a life-belt or two, and
+things belonging to the _Cora's_ deck. The men from the station
+were watching with the sailors and hauling things in to land.
+
+"Any bodies that went down will be carried by the under current
+into the next bay," Eustace heard the bêche-de-mer owner explaining
+to the _Cora's_ crew.
+
+"Well, my name's not Swaine," said an old sailor with a telescope,
+"if that isn't one coming now."
+
+There was a thrill of excitement, an immediate demand for the
+telescope, as every one pressed forward.
+
+"It will be a broken spar," said the bêche-de-mer captain. "I've
+been here fifteen years and there's never such a thing happened
+yet."
+
+"I'm going out in one of the boats, mate," said the old sailor
+resolutely. "Who is coming with me?"
+
+There were many volunteers at once, and the boat was launched.
+
+Eustace remained as if frozen to the spot. He could just see the
+log-like thing lying upon the water, gently tossed by the tiny
+waves that were slowly, slowly bearing it to shore. It certainly
+looked no bigger than a broken spar, and very much that shape as,
+the boat drawn up alongside, two sailors leant over and lifted it
+in.
+
+It was all Eustace could do to make himself stay until the boat's
+return, and he covered his face as the burden was gently lifted
+ashore.
+
+"It's all right, youngster," said a kindly voice at his elbow, one
+of the older sailors; "he is alive--only unconscious. It's a
+miracle; but there, miracles do happen, say what you will."
+
+The news made all the difference to Eustace, and he pressed round
+with the rest.
+
+"Here," said one of the _Cora's_ crew, catching sight of him
+suddenly, "make way for this laddie--it's his own brother."
+
+In utter bewilderment Eustace felt himself forced to the centre of
+the crowd, and there, with a man kneeling beside him trying
+restoratives, lay Peter, with a life-belt round him, his face
+ashen, and his fair hair all sodden--but he was living. They said
+he was alive, but certainly he did not look it.
+
+Eustace turned, fought his way madly through the press, and dashed
+up the beach straight to the trees where his mother sat bending
+over Becky.
+
+"Hush," she said warningly; "I am just getting her off to sleep."
+
+The quiet voice pulled the boy up just in time, before he had
+blurted out his news in all its crudeness.
+
+"Mother," he said instead, "let me hold Becky--I can really. Peter
+will want you."
+
+Mrs. Orban neither started nor changed colour; she just stared at
+Eustace curiously, and said inquiringly,--
+
+"Peter?"
+
+"Yes, mummie, Peter," Eustace said in a shaking voice. "He is
+unconscious, but he will want you when he opens his eyes."
+
+He held out his arms for Becky; and Mrs. Orban rose and went as if
+she were dreaming, leaving him standing there with the baby.
+
+It was a very long time before Peter knew that he wanted his
+mother. Terror and the exposure in the water for so many hours had
+done their work, and even when the little fellow recovered
+consciousness he was too ill to realize anything at all.
+
+Every one was very kind to the Orbans. The poor lady who had lost
+her husband took entire charge of Becky; other fellow-passengers
+offered to help with Peter, who needed nursing night and day. The
+survivors from the wreck clung together, and found some comfort in
+helping each other. The people of the station were very attentive
+and good; but the relief party from Cooktown was hailed with
+thankfulness, for there were of course many discomforts and
+unpleasantnesses. The blacks had a disagreeable habit of prowling
+about in the night and peeping at their guests as they tried to
+sleep in the impromptu hammocks. The food was coarse and
+monotonous; the men rough, and uncouth in their ways.
+
+When Eustace saw his father he felt a great burden lifted from his
+shoulders; his powerlessness to help his mother did not matter any
+more; no one could comfort her like his father. Then there was Bob;
+he would help the whole family to keep up in his usual splendid
+way!
+
+Fortunately Mr. Orban and Bob had not yet left Cooktown when the
+news of the disaster arrived. They hastened to the bêche-de-mer
+station on getting Mrs. Orban's message, without the least
+knowledge whom they would find of their own party; and after the
+first explanations were over, no one could speak of the cloud
+shadowing the joy of meeting. To Eustace's infinite surprise, Bob,
+to whom he had looked for so much, failed him utterly--he could not
+rouse himself, let alone other people.
+
+The survivors of the wrecked _Cora_ were carried by steamer to
+Cooktown, and Mr. Orban took his family to the best hotel, for no
+plans could be made till Peter was better.
+
+Alone with Eustace, Nesta gave vent to her feelings very often.
+
+"Eustace," she said, "wasn't it queer Aunt Dorothy saying the very
+day before we left she didn't feel a bit as if we were going to
+England? Do you remember?"
+
+Eustace replied with a kind of grunt. He had not words for every
+emotion as Nesta had.
+
+"And it seems so horrid," she proceeded chokily, "to know nothing
+about what happened to her or even how it happened. If only some
+one could tell us!"
+
+"What's the good of talking when no one can?" said Eustace
+gruffly. "I can't think why you do. You only make yourself cry."
+
+The first person to speak of Miss Chase without tears was Peter. He
+was lying in their private sitting-room, and suddenly he said,--
+
+"I say, where's Aunt Dorothy?"
+
+He had asked before, but in his weakness the subject had easily
+been changed.
+
+"She is not here, dear," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"That's funny," said Peter, in his old talkative way; "she
+distinctly said she was coming."
+
+Bob got up from a deep chair and stood, with his back to the room,
+looking out of the window.
+
+"Did she, Peter?" said Mr. Orban quickly. "When?"
+
+"Why, on the boat," said Peter; "when she put the life-belt round
+me."
+
+"Oh, she put the life-belt round you, did she?" said Mr. Orban.
+"And what did she say?"
+
+Every one leant forward eagerly. It was the first time Peter had
+shown any inclination to talk, and no one had guessed he could
+possibly know anything of Miss Chase.
+
+"She said," was his clear reply, "'That's right, Peter Perky. Now
+mind you float; don't struggle, but lie on your back.'--Bob," he
+broke off, "lucky you taught me to float, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, yes," said Bob; "never mind about that. Go on about Dorothy."
+
+Eustace stared at his back in wonder. For the first time in his
+life he heard Bob irritable.
+
+"She said," Peter went on obediently, "'Don't be frightened; I am
+coming too.'"
+
+"Well?" prompted Mr. Orban.
+
+"Then she took me up, and we jumped overboard. I don't know what
+happened next."
+
+"Try to think," said Bob in a hard voice.
+
+"I can't," said Peter; "everything was noise and blackness. Ask
+Aunt Dorothy; she'll tell you."
+
+There was a solemn hush--so solemn that Peter stared round in
+amazement at the grave faces. Bob turned and walked heavily out of
+the room. Nesta buried her head in her hands.
+
+"Why, what's the matter?" asked Peter sharply.
+
+He had to be told then, and he wept as if his heart would break;
+but he could remember nothing after the jump into the sea. It
+appeared that he was all by himself at the other side of the ship,
+very unhappy because he thought it was all his fault Becky had been
+hurt. Then came the crash, and he was terrified. He was wondering
+what had happened, when Aunt Dorothy came running towards him,
+crying, "Peter, Peter, where are you?" And then followed the
+putting on of the life-belt. It was so easy to picture her talking
+to him all the time, to reassure him, in that quick, cheery way of
+hers.
+
+"O Eustace," Nesta said afterwards, "wasn't she splendid? I guess
+Bob must be sorry he teased her so now."
+
+"Pooh," said Eustace, "that was only his fun. Aunt Dorothy knew
+it."
+
+But Nesta could not stand teasing herself, and was sure no one
+liked or understood it.
+
+"I don't know," she said; "she used to get red sometimes. And I'm
+not so sure Bob did mean it all in chaff. He has a real
+down-on-anything-English. I mean to ask him some day what he thinks
+of English girls' pluck now."
+
+"If you do," said Eustace, with sudden ferocity, "I'll never speak
+to you again."
+
+Nesta stared at him in dismay.
+
+"Why ever?" she asked dully. "Wouldn't he like to talk about her?
+Didn't he like her, really?"
+
+"Like her!" Eustace exclaimed. "Oh, you little stupid! Didn't you
+see him when Peter was telling us about her? Didn't you hear Bob
+then? Can't you understand?"
+
+Nesta stared in blank silence for some seconds.
+
+"Oh, I say!" she gasped, "I didn't know! I never thought of that!
+I--I wasn't looking at him."
+
+"I wasn't looking at anything else," said Eustace; "but I guess he
+wouldn't like to think any one knew, so we must hold our tongues.
+But I couldn't have you going and asking him blundering questions."
+
+"I won't," said Nesta, with unwonted meekness. "When did you
+guess?"
+
+"Only then," said Eustace; "but now I can remember lots of things.
+Bob always liked talking to her better than any one. Bob didn't
+want her to go. Bob asked her to come back."
+
+He broke off short and slammed out of the room. It was as bad to
+think of as it had been to bear his mother's helpless loneliness;
+for as he could do nothing then for her, he could do nothing now
+for Bob.
+
+It was a matter of conjecture between the twins what was likely to
+happen next. They really expected that, when Peter was well enough
+for the rough journey, they would all go back to the plantation,
+and settle down again for ever and ever.
+
+A telegram had been dispatched with the bad news to Mr. and Mrs.
+Chase. The reply was an urgent appeal for them all to go on as
+first intended.
+
+Leaving everything on the plantation in Bob's care, Mr. Orban
+decided to take his wife and family home himself. It would not be
+the joyful home-coming they had anticipated; and Mrs. Orban would
+need him, he knew.
+
+"We must do what we can for the poor dear old people," Mr. Orban
+explained to Bob. "Dorothy was their baby. It is a terrible loss to
+them."
+
+"To every one," said Bob briefly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+MOTHER'S HOME.
+
+
+In the length and breadth of England there could hardly have been
+found a more lovely little property than Maze Court. There were
+larger houses in the neighbourhood, with more extensive grounds;
+but as Brenda Dixon stood on the terrace and gazed down towards the
+good old English park she felt a real glow of pride and pleasure in
+belonging to such a place. It was the sort of feeling she had
+whenever she brought a new school friend home for the holidays.
+
+Beside her stood Herbert--long, lean, and very gentlemanly in his
+flannels. It was one of his sister's great joys that he always
+looked a gentleman in everything.
+
+She was a striking-looking girl herself, with features a little too
+pronounced for accurate beauty; but this very fault had the effect
+of making her handsome. She had little personal vanity--mere
+features she cared nothing for--but pride of birth and of the old
+home were deeply rooted in her.
+
+"I think Nesta and Eustace ought to be surprised," she was
+thinking; "they won't have seen anything like it. It will seem so
+big and splendid to them after the kind of life they have had."
+
+Brenda was never very sure how to picture the Orbans' existence in
+Queensland. There was a touch of pettiness about it--a feeling of
+poverty and "hugger-muggerness," if one may coin such a word. The
+thought of her uncle going daily to his work in his shirt-sleeves;
+of her aunt helping in the housework; her cousins brought up just
+anyhow, without a governess or any schooling, shocked her
+sensibilities and gave vivid local colouring to her ideas about the
+Orbans. Those were the sort of details she would never have
+referred to at school.
+
+And now she and Herbert were waiting for the arrival of the
+travellers, whom their grandparents had driven to the station to
+meet.
+
+"Oh dear," she said with a sigh, "how I wish I didn't wish they
+weren't coming! If they are fearfully eccentric, all the
+neighbourhood will be talking about it in a week, and thinking it
+funny we have such relations. One can't explain to every one that
+they really are ladies and gentlemen gone to seed, can one?"
+
+"Not exactly," said Herbert. "I jolly well hope you won't try; it
+would be beastly bad form. Of course if one had a fellow staying in
+the house one might have to explain."
+
+"I simply couldn't ask any one," Brenda said. "It would be all over
+the school next term my uncle was a common labourer, and my cousins
+savages--or something!"
+
+"Nice sort of friends you seem to have," said Herbert. "Is that a
+girl's usual way?"
+
+"Well," said Brenda, with some asperity, "boys aren't any better,
+if you should have to explain matters to a chum of yours."
+
+"That's different," Herbert said; "one doesn't want to give a bad
+impression. What I hope is that Eustace isn't an awful little muff.
+I expect he is, though--can't help being when he has never been
+amongst any boys. It will have to be knocked out of him."
+
+"Aunt Dorothy said he was a very nice little chap," Brenda quoted,
+and then her voice broke, so that she could not go on.
+
+It was the beginning of the summer holidays, and both she and
+Herbert were feeling the death of Miss Chase most dreadfully. It
+had been bad enough when she left before the end of the winter
+holidays. Again at Easter the dullness of the house without her had
+known no bounds. But now, when they knew she would never be with
+them again, her very name choked them; they could scarcely speak of
+her, because her absence proved at every turn all that her presence
+had meant to them and to every one. How they had hated Australia
+when she left! How much more they hated it now and everything to do
+with it--even the coming of the cousins! Australia seemed the root
+of all evil--the cause of Aunt Dorothy's death.
+
+"Aunt Dorothy was a brick," said Herbert jerkily; "she saw niceness
+in people whatever they were like. But girls don't really know when
+fellows are muffs."
+
+"I don't know about Eustace," said Brenda, "but Nesta looked
+fearfully long-legged and queerly dressed in those snapshots Aunt
+Dorothy did."
+
+"I hope she won't want to kiss me when she says 'How-do-you-do,'"
+said Herbert; "that is all I mind about her. But if that kid
+Eustace fancies he is going to hang around with me perpetually, he
+will find himself mistaken. I couldn't be bothered."
+
+"But we shall have to look after them properly, and treat them just
+as we would any other visitors," Brenda said anxiously; "we can't
+sort of leave them to themselves, you know."
+
+"Of course," said Herbert rather testily; "what do you take me for?
+I hope I shan't behave like a cad in my own house! But that is just
+the nuisance of it: they'll be visitors without being visitors, and
+they'll be here such an awful time. Thank goodness, there will be
+term time to look forward to!"
+
+"If only Aunt Dorothy--" began Brenda.
+
+"Oh, shut up," said Herbert roughly. Then added more gently, "I
+think the carriage has just turned in at the park gate. Listen."
+
+All through the voyage Eustace and Nesta had been picturing this
+very day--this very hour. The parting with Bob and the farewell to
+home necessarily dropped into the background of their thoughts; the
+foreground was full of expectations. Now that they could realize
+they were on their way to the fulfilment of what had originally
+been the dream of their lives, all the old feeling of longing
+possessed them. At last they would see England! At last they would
+know what real "home" was like--their mother's old home, to which
+she had given them such a sense of belonging by all the tales they
+knew so well!
+
+That England was not what they expected was natural enough. Mrs.
+Orban had never pretended to describe England, but simply her own
+particular corner of it on the borders of Wales. Leaving the ship
+was all bustle and rush, but during the long train journey there
+was plenty of time to look about, and English scenery struck all
+three children as most peculiar.
+
+"Why, it's just like a map!" exclaimed Peter, as he knelt up at a
+window. "I'm certain if I was up in a balloon it would look like a
+map with all those funny little hedges."
+
+"I think it would look like a patchwork quilt," said Nesta.
+"Father, why do people mark their land out into such funny little
+bits?"
+
+So spoke the children, used to wide tracts of land without
+boundaries, hundreds of acres without fence or railing--such
+country as England boasts of in miniature only on its wildest
+moors.
+
+The twins were speechless and almost suffocated with excitement
+when the train at last ran into a little country station, and Mr.
+Orban said briskly,--
+
+"Here we are!"
+
+"There they are!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, with a little sob in her
+voice.
+
+"Who? who?" yelled Peter, dashing from the other side of the
+carriage.
+
+"Grannie and grandpapa," answered Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Oh, where?" said Peter, as the train stopped. The children knew
+Bob Cochrane's grandfather and grandmother--a very comfortable,
+homely old pair of the typical "grannyish" type, rather bent,
+rather deaf, and always referred to as "the old people." Trixy
+invariably rushed at them when they came, and called them "the dear
+old pets."
+
+There was no one the least "grannyish" or cosy-looking on the
+platform. Only a very erect, elderly gentleman with silver hair,
+and a lady who might have been the Queen, so dignified, so stately
+was she. They were the sort of people the twins had read of but
+never seen.
+
+A hush fell over the children as they scrambled out of the carriage
+after their mother, and waited till their grandparents were ready
+to notice them. Then they each received a kiss and a handshake
+which made them instantly feel that nothing would be more
+impossible than to rush upon this grandfather and grandmother and
+call them either "dear," "old," or "pets."
+
+All through the drive in the old-fashioned waggonette the sense of
+unfamiliarity grew as the children stared--the twins furtively,
+Peter openly--at Mr. and Mrs. Chase.
+
+It seemed to the twins such a queer arrival, and so different to
+anything they had expected, that they could scarcely believe it was
+real. "Why," thought Nesta, "the Cochranes make much more fuss over
+us when we go to see them for a day." But Eustace's thoughts were
+too confused for description.
+
+The conversation was funny and jerky, and just the sort of things
+strangers say to each other. Mrs. Chase hoped they were not very
+tired, and that they had had a nice journey. And Mr. Chase said it
+was a hotter summer than there had been for the last ten years, and
+so on.
+
+"Oh dear," thought Eustace wearily, as they drove into the park,
+"how different it would have been if Aunt Dorothy had been here!"
+
+But still there was the place to be interested in, and when his
+mother said, "This is home, Eustace," he roused himself, and looked
+about him.
+
+Even a Colonial child, accustomed to vastness, could not help
+admiring such a place as this, full of fine old trees spreading
+over the short cropped turf. The park was hilly, and swept away to
+right and left towards thick woods.
+
+Then, as the carriage reached a bend and came into full view of the
+great house, standing gray, massive, and strong in the evening
+light, the children's hearts did thrill with pride. This was
+something better than their own slenderly-built, iron-roofed house
+in Queensland.
+
+"There are Herbert and Brenda waiting for us," said Mrs. Chase,
+"but I don't see nurse. I have got you a charming woman as nurse
+for Becky and Peter. You can't be tied down to looking after the
+children, you know. I want you to be free to enjoy yourself."
+
+Peter started as if he had been shot.
+
+"Me have a nurse!" he exclaimed. "I don't want looking after."
+
+Eustace and Nesta glanced quickly at their mother. Becky with a
+nurse! This was something extraordinary. And mother "not to be tied
+down to looking after the children." When had it ever been a tie to
+mother to look after them? Such a strange idea had never occurred
+to any of them before, and all in their own separate ways resented
+it.
+
+Mr. Chase looked at Peter in surprise.
+
+"When I was your age," he said gravely, "I had what was given me,
+no matter what I wanted."
+
+"We've got to think about your mother's wants first," said Mrs.
+Chase, "and she deserves a holiday after all these years."
+
+"Quite right," said Mr. Orban; "she needs one badly. I am thankful
+she should have it."
+
+There was no time to say more, for just then the carriage pulled up
+under the fine old portico.
+
+Again there was that sense of stiffness and awkwardness as the
+Dixons came forward to greet their cousins; there was no triumphant
+entry and welcome to the old home. Mrs. Chase drew Mrs. Orban in;
+Mr. Chase took Mr. Orban; Becky, sleepy and perfectly placid, was
+whisked away by a grave-faced, elderly woman who said, "Come along,
+sir," to Peter, and disappeared through a red baize door, whither
+the little fellow had to follow.
+
+"We're to have meals with the little ones in the schoolroom," said
+Brenda, to whom this new rule was not pleasing. "Come and get
+ready."
+
+Now that she was a schoolgirl, and only home for holidays, she had
+all her meals with her grandparents except late dinner; but the
+arrival of the Orbans put an end to this. It was felt that the
+perpetual presence of such a crowd of youngsters at meals would
+never do. To Brenda and Herbert the change was typical of the whole
+difference these unwelcome guests would make in their lives.
+
+"Couldn't we just have one look round first?" said Nesta, staring
+about her in proprietary admiration at the walls of the great hall,
+where hung the horns and weapons, the family portraits and
+trophies, of bygone Chases. "I would like just to see the secret
+chamber. Let me see--it must be through that door and up some
+steps--"
+
+She stopped inquiringly.
+
+"No, it isn't," Brenda said, with a look of surprise; "you go just
+the other way. But there isn't time now; Herbert and I will show
+you everything to-morrow."
+
+Nesta looked taken aback.
+
+"I don't expect I shall need much showing," she said, with a little
+air of importance.
+
+Her cousins both stared at her.
+
+"You certainly will," said Herbert decidedly; "it isn't at all an
+easy house to find one's way about in, I can tell you. You would go
+blundering into all sorts of places you oughtn't to."
+
+"Places we oughtn't to?" repeated Eustace in bewilderment.
+
+"Yes, the servants' quarters, you know," said Herbert, as if he
+were talking to a child of eight.
+
+"Aren't you allowed to go into the servants' quarters?" asked Nesta
+wonderingly.
+
+"Oh, we're _allowed_, of course," said Herbert; "but one doesn't
+go. I dare say things were rather mixed out with you, though."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Eustace abruptly.
+
+"Oh, you had to rough it rather, hadn't you?" said the elder boy.
+"I had a sort of idea you all had meals together."
+
+"With the servants?" questioned Eustace.
+
+"Yes," said Herbert, with perfect gravity.
+
+Eustace flushed deeply.
+
+"Oh, of course," he said, "coolies and every one had meals
+together. We all ate out of a trough."
+
+"Eustace!" exclaimed Nesta in dismay, wondering what had happened
+to him all of a sudden.
+
+The cousins stared at him blankly, hardly realizing for a moment
+what he had said.
+
+"Well, it is just as sensible as saying we had meals with the
+servants," said the boy, in such a tone of disgust that Herbert was
+left in no doubt as to his meaning.
+
+"You needn't be cheeky, youngster," he said; "you can't expect me
+to know your habits, can you? I do know people in the Colonies
+can't pick and choose their company, and have to make friends with
+cowboys and bushrangers, if they want any society."
+
+"What!" shouted the twins. "Who told you that?"
+
+"Oh, I've read it somewhere," Herbert said carelessly. "It said
+'there are no class distinctions in Colonial life. Men and women
+meet as equals.'"
+
+"Then it is rot," said Eustace briefly. "I don't know how you could
+believe it. Our friends were all gentlemen and ladies. Australians
+are as particular as you are whom they have for friends."
+
+"My good kid," said Herbert aggravatingly, "you don't know
+everything, and you haven't been everywhere in the Colonies, you
+know. But it really doesn't matter, does it? We were only saying
+one doesn't do that sort of thing in England. Come and wash for
+tea."
+
+The small passage of arms left neither boy much pleased with the
+other. Herbert foresaw that Eustace was likely to be uppish and
+cheeky, and would want keeping in his place. Eustace thought
+Herbert gave himself airs, and more than justified the criticism he
+had long accorded his portrait. He did not look it in real life,
+for Herbert was manly and unaffected in appearance. "All the
+same," thought Eustace, "he's a silly ass."
+
+Not so much what was said as the tone in which it was said left an
+unpleasant impression upon both new-comers. They had planned
+together that the very first thing they would do when they arrived
+would be to rush all over the house and see everything. Nesta
+declared she would not be able to sleep a wink for excitement if
+she did not. It had never occurred to them there would be barriers
+of any sort. Nothing in their own free lives hitherto had suggested
+baize doors through which they "ought not to go."
+
+Somehow those baize doors were suggestive of everything irksome and
+disappointing; they were of a piece with all the other changes
+which the twins began to feel from the outset.
+
+Before the evening was over Eustace and Nesta had grasped something
+of what coming to England really meant: it seemed a case of shut
+doors all round--there was no feeling of home about it. Rather,
+Eustace reflected bitterly, it was like prison, and all the freedom
+of existence was gone. It appeared that here the grown-ups lived in
+one part of the house, the children in another. There were certain
+times at which the drawing-room or dining-room might be visited,
+otherwise the grown-ups must not be interrupted. Becky and Peter
+were provided with a sort of jailer, whose business it also was to
+give all the young people their meals, and their mother seemed
+utterly ungetatable.
+
+Life on the veranda always together, always in the thick of
+everything that was going on, with no shut doors anywhere, had
+ill-prepared them for this.
+
+Then there were Herbert and Brenda.
+
+Strange to say, Eustace and Nesta had not thought of them as
+anything but some one to play with--other children staying in the
+same house as themselves. That they were really the son and
+daughter of the place had never occurred to the new-comers. That
+they would play the part of host and hostess, and treat the
+Australians entirely as visitors, was a shock to Eustace and Nesta.
+Not thus did they expect to be received into their mother's old
+home, which she had always taught them to look on as their own.
+
+Before the end of the day, however, they had realized this one
+thing very vividly--Herbert and Brenda had lived here all their
+lives, but the Orbans were outsiders, their very coldly-welcomed
+guests.
+
+"It is delightful," said Mrs. Orban, as she dressed for dinner, "to
+think of the children getting to know each other at last. I do hope
+they will be happy."
+
+"All the happier for being thrown so much together," said Mr.
+Orban. "We couldn't help it, of course, but ours have been thrown
+far too much with older people. This sort of thing is much
+healthier for them."
+
+"It is all hateful," wept Nesta to her pillow that night. "Herbert
+is a bully, and Brenda is a stuck-up pig--and I wish we had never
+come."
+
+And Eustace did not close his eyes for hours.
+
+"Bob was quite right," he thought. "English people are horrid; they
+freeze you right up the minute you see them. But oh! I believe it
+would be better if only there was a veranda. They do live in such a
+queer way, all divided up like this."
+
+Back into his mind there came the refrain of one of Bob's
+songs--the one he had sung to Aunt Dorothy the day of her arrival.
+He went to sleep with the tune ringing in his head,--
+
+    "Certain for darkies dis is not de place,
+    Where eben de sun am ashamed to show his face."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+PETER MAKES A DIVERSION.
+
+
+But for Peter and Becky schoolroom breakfast next morning would
+have been a very dismal and quiet affair, for the elder cousins had
+little to say to each other.
+
+Herbert and Brenda cudgelled their brains for topics of
+conversation to keep things going, and they thought they had never
+had any one so difficult to talk to in their lives. The Australian
+cousins seemed downright stupid and uninteresting. Just for one
+thing Brenda was thankful--they were not outwardly so unpresentable
+as she had anticipated.
+
+Nesta, still smarting under a sense of disappointment, had made a
+sullen resolution not to appear to want to know anything at all. In
+spite of Herbert's assurances she was quite sure she did know a
+great deal about the house and grounds. Brenda and he should see
+later that she did.
+
+Eustace held his tongue because he had literally nothing to say
+that was at all agreeable. They had begun the day by going into
+their mother's room to say good-morning.
+
+"O children," she had exclaimed when she saw them, "isn't it all
+lovely?"
+
+"It is, mummie," began Nesta in such a miserable voice that Eustace
+knew she was going on with a "but."
+
+There were tears of joy in Mrs. Orban's eyes. To her at least
+everything was perfect. Eustace was standing close to Nesta, and he
+gave her a surreptitious pinch that just nipped the complaint right
+off before the "but" could come out.
+
+"It is ripping, mother," he said. "I never thought it would be half
+so splendid."
+
+"I knew you would love it," said Mrs. Orban confidently; "and it is
+so jolly for you having Brenda and Herbert. If only--"
+
+She stopped, and her face had grown suddenly sad. There was always
+that "if only." The twins knew she was thinking of Aunt Dorothy.
+
+"Look here, Nesta," said Eustace in a low voice when they left the
+room, "don't you go grumbling to mother and spoiling everything for
+her, or you will be a selfish little pig."
+
+"But when things are horrid--" began Nesta.
+
+"It won't make them better to worry her," said Eustace shortly.
+
+"But how could you say it is splendid?" Nesta said with a choke.
+
+"Well, isn't it?" said Eustace. "I was thinking about the house and
+the park. It was not the people mother told us about before we
+came, but the place."
+
+"Grannie and grandfather are not a bit like what I thought," Nesta
+remarked in an aggrieved tone.
+
+"They are very beautiful," said Eustace in an awed voice. "They
+somehow match the house and everything in it, and it seems to make
+them much too grand for us."
+
+"I know Herbert and Brenda think _themselves_ much too grand for
+us," said Nesta crossly. "Fancy their thinking such silly things
+about the way we lived, just as if we weren't ladies and gentlemen!
+Why, last night, when Brenda told me we were to go in to dessert,
+she said, 'You know people always dress for dinner in England,' in
+that snubby way of hers; and I laughed right out, and said,
+'Goodness, father and mother dress for dinner every night at
+home.'"
+
+"I think they fancy we are sort of savages," said Eustace. "It
+makes me feel inclined to be one, and give them a shock."
+
+Dessert the evening before had proved a very dull affair, and the
+time in the drawing-room afterwards, playing halma with the
+cousins, was worse. They all four hailed bedtime with thankfulness.
+Never before had Eustace and Nesta felt so shut in--so pinned down
+and overawed. Never, thought Herbert and Brenda, had they met such
+queer, unresponsive children.
+
+At breakfast they found Becky entirely at home with her keeper, who
+had a grave kind of way of smiling down upon the small person and
+Peter.
+
+"You had better come and see the house now," said Herbert
+immediately after breakfast. "I'm going off rabbit-shooting later."
+
+"Not you, Master Peter," said nurse as Peter shot off his chair;
+"your hands and face are all sticky, and must be washed before you
+can do anything."
+
+The others did not offer to wait for him, so the crestfallen Peter
+was left behind, wondering why people wanted so much washing in
+England.
+
+Herbert and Brenda took the twins through the house as they might
+have conducted a party of sight-seers. Eustace accepted everything
+in silence, but Nesta did not. For instance,--
+
+"This is the picture gallery," said Herbert, "and all these people
+are our ancestors."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Nesta.
+
+"This is the room Queen Elizabeth is supposed to have slept in
+once--"
+
+"Oh yes, mother told us all about that," broke in Nesta; "and the
+bishop always sleeps here when he comes to hold confirmations in
+the neighbourhood."
+
+The party passed on in silence. This sort of thing was damping to
+the showman.
+
+"You see that group of swords over there," began Herbert, trying
+again as they reached the hall.
+
+"The middle one was the one Sir Herbert Chase killed the man with
+at Worcester and just saved the Prince's life, and you are called
+after him," said Nesta, anticipating the tale.
+
+Herbert mentally voted his cousin a bumptious brat of a girl.
+Eustace began to wish Nesta would stop showing off so palpably--it
+seemed small and silly.
+
+They passed an interesting looking door, and Nesta at once said,--
+
+"Oh, we're missing one. That must be the library, because of the
+double doors and the carved owl over them. Do let's go in."
+
+"Can't," said Herbert, glad to show some superior knowledge at
+least of the ways of the house if not of its contents. "Grandfather
+is always there all morning, and no one ever disturbs him."
+
+"That portrait over there is our great-great-grandfather," said
+Brenda in the dining-room.
+
+"No," said Nesta, shaking her head; "one more great.
+Great-great-great-grandfather, Eustace Chase."
+
+Brenda flushed with annoyance.
+
+"Well, I really think I ought to know," she said, "considering I've
+lived here all my life.--It is only great-great, isn't it,
+Herbert?"
+
+Herbert looked worried.
+
+"No, it is three greats," he said grudgingly.
+
+"I knew for certain," said Nesta.
+
+Brenda allowed Herbert to take up the _rôle_ of conductor awhile.
+Nesta was getting on her nerves. But presently, in the smaller
+drawing-room, they all came to a standstill in front of the picture
+of a beautiful little brown-haired girl.
+
+"That was Aunt Dorothy when she was little," said Brenda very low.
+
+Nesta knew this also, but she said nothing for once.
+
+Herbert led the way out of the house in silence.
+
+Out of doors Nesta displayed just the same irritating certainty of
+things. The sun-dial she noticed from a distance.
+
+"That has '_Sic transit vita_' on it," she said hurriedly, lest she
+should be forestalled. "Oh, and that tank is the little well place
+mother fell into when she was Becky's age."
+
+But she received a check later.
+
+"The good old swing and the giant's stride," she said with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"No--new ones," said Herbert with satisfaction; "the old ones were
+rotten, and these were put up for us."
+
+Nesta put her next venture in the form of a question.
+
+"Is that the summer-house mother and the aunts played dolls in?"
+
+"No," said Brenda, "that fell down. This is mine. Grandfather gave
+it me one birthday."
+
+Everything had the impress of the Dixon children--everything seemed
+to be "mine" or "Herbert's." It was a depressing morning for the
+Australians, though Nesta did flatter herself she must have clearly
+demonstrated her knowledge of Maze Court and pretty well surprised
+her cousins. It annoyed her that Eustace had been so dumb, and
+seemingly unable to say more than "yes" or "no" to things. It
+showed a lack of spirit about him she would not have expected after
+his sally about the troughs they fed out of with the coolies, and
+his assertion only that morning that he felt inclined to become a
+savage and astonish the Dixons.
+
+"I expect he's afraid of Herbert," she thought; "but I'm not."
+
+Eustace was not either, but he was just a little ashamed of his
+outburst of the evening before. Looked at by light of day it seemed
+unnecessary waste of temper. He thought Bob would not have thought
+much of him for it; it was rather babyish.
+
+Oh, how homesick he felt! What wouldn't he have given to have seen
+Bob walking down one of those wide paths towards them. Good old
+Bob! Poor old Bob! What would Brenda and Herbert think if they only
+knew all that story? It was enough to keep the boy silent to have
+such thoughts as these starting up in his memory again and again;
+enough to make him ashamed of any pettiness. But the thought of
+Bob alone had power to do that; he was so big, so splendid, such a
+man!
+
+Coming out of the gardens into the park they met nurse and Becky.
+
+"Oh," said nurse, looking flushed and flustered, "isn't Master
+Peter with you? I can't find him anywhere. I just left him while I
+went to dress Miss Becky, and never thought to tell him to wait for
+me."
+
+"Peter isn't used to staying in one room," said Eustace quietly. "I
+guess he is looking for us."
+
+"But it is very naughty of him," said the English nurse in
+vexation.
+
+"Peter wouldn't mean to be naughty," said Eustace in the same quiet
+tone; "but you see we are so used to be all together all day long
+on the veranda."
+
+"That's all very fine," said nurse, "but it doesn't find him for
+me. I just hope he won't come to some harm or do some mischief
+before I get him."
+
+"Could he come to any harm?" asked Nesta anxiously.
+
+"Well, there are ponds he could fall into, and places he could
+climb and tumble out of. And as to mischief--there are things
+everywhere he could handle and break," said the woman. "I never saw
+such an inquisitive little fidget as he is. He is all the time
+asking questions and wanting to touch everything he sees."
+
+There immediately began a hunt for Peter. Here, there, and
+everywhere they went in pairs, but nowhere could he be found. They
+called him, but there was no answer; they asked every one they
+met, but no one had seen him.
+
+Mrs. Chase was out driving with Mr. and Mrs. Orban; there seemed no
+one to appeal to.
+
+The search reminded Eustace of the story of the loss of Aunt
+Dorothy, and he went and looked in the turret and the secret
+chamber through the cupboard door; but Peter was not there.
+
+Nurse was becoming frantic, for of course she felt responsible for
+her charge. Eustace and Nesta began to be worried. Herbert was
+cross because this prevented his rabbit-shooting; he could not very
+well go away leaving such an anxious household as this. Brenda felt
+sorry both for him and for the twins, but said nothing.
+
+The search-party met in the hall, just as that other search-party
+had kept doing so many, many years ago, but there was never any
+news.
+
+"Can there be a secret chamber somewhere else?" said Nesta.
+
+Brenda shook her head.
+
+"I don't think so," she said.
+
+"I wish father would come home," Eustace thought miserably. "He
+might think of something."
+
+"We had better ask grandfather what is to be done," said Herbert at
+last in desperation.
+
+It was a last resource. Nothing but the most serious business was
+allowed to interrupt Mr. Chase's morning, but this had become
+sufficiently pressing to warrant the intrusion.
+
+In through the folding-doors trooped the anxious-looking searchers,
+Herbert first.
+
+"Well, I never!" he exclaimed, for there stood Peter as calm as
+you please, his hands behind him, staring at his grandfather across
+the broad writing-table.
+
+"Can you ride bareback?" he was inquiring in his shrill treble.
+"Bob can; but he said I mustn't try because it is slimy."
+
+"Slimy?" repeated Mr. Chase, with brows bent in perplexity.
+
+"Yes," said Peter, "sliddery, you know. A horse is a very slippery
+beast for short legs, Bob says."
+
+He went on quite regardless of the intruders, who stood watching in
+awed silence, because if Mr. Chase did not order Peter out of the
+room, it was no one's business to do so.
+
+"And who may this Bob be you keep quoting?" asked Mr. Chase--"a
+bushranger?"
+
+"No, he's our friend," replied Peter. "He is just Bob, you know,
+who comes to see us. Once Eustace and he were lost in the scrub.
+And Bob says Eustace is a--"
+
+"Peter!" exclaimed Eustace.
+
+"I wasn't going to say anything bad," said Peter. "I was only going
+to tell grandfather how you--"
+
+"Grandfather doesn't want to know," said Eustace, looking red and
+uncomfortable.
+
+Mr. Chase turned his bright blue eyes on Eustace; they were blue
+eyes, very like Peter's.
+
+"Perhaps grandfather does," he said firmly.--"Go on, Peter."
+
+"I can tell you better," said Eustace hurriedly. "It is only Bob
+was lost, and I got lost looking for him; and we thought some
+natives were going to kill us, but the chief wanted a reward, so
+he fetched father and Mr. Cochrane to take us home."
+
+Mr. Chase listened quietly. It was a tame little story, without
+much point to it told like that, but he had watched Eustace's
+sensitive face narrowly, and he asked no further questions.
+
+"I seem to be honoured with much company this morning," he said
+instead, looking round the group on the threshold. "What are you
+all doing, if I may ask?"
+
+"Looking for Peter, grandfather," explained Herbert uncomfortably,
+certain that Mr. Chase was annoyed. "We've been hunting for him for
+the last hour."
+
+"I've had the pleasure of his society for about that space of
+time," said Mr. Chase. "I have had to give an account of how many
+black men and how many Chinkees I employ about the place; whether I
+wouldn't rather live in Queensland if I had a hundred pounds of my
+own; and how long I sleep in the winter. I don't know why he wants
+to know that, I am sure."
+
+"Oh," said Peter quickly, "because Bob says people in England sleep
+like dormice in the winter, and have to be wakened by big knockers
+on the door."
+
+"I see," said Mr. Chase gravely, "your friend Bob seems to know
+more about England than I do--probably because I sleep right
+through the winter. Now, if you have asked everything you can think
+of, perhaps you will take your tribe away with you, Peter Perky."
+
+The twins jumped violently at the name, and stared at the speaker
+in astonishment. No one but Aunt Dorothy had ever called Peter
+that.
+
+"I should like to know if you roll up when you sleep, or lie flat,"
+Peter said, not feeling at all anxious to go. "Aunt Dorothy always
+called me a dormouse at night--"
+
+"You can go, Peter," interrupted Mr. Chase hurriedly; "I am busy."
+
+Herbert took the child by the shoulder and marched him out of the
+room.
+
+"Peter, how could you?" exclaimed Brenda, when they reached the
+schoolroom.
+
+"How could I what?" demanded Peter, looking puzzled.
+
+"Why, speak about poor Aunt Dorothy before grandfather," said the
+girl. "Nobody does; he can't bear it."
+
+"Can't he?" said Peter mildly; "but he asked me a lot of questions
+about her himself. And I told him how she called me Peter Perky,
+and all about her saving my life in the wreck."
+
+"What!" interrupted the cousins in a breath; "she did what?"
+
+"Didn't you know?" said Eustace.
+
+"We don't know anything except what that awful cable said," Brenda
+said in a low, shaky voice.
+
+Between them the twins and Peter told the whole story. Herbert sat
+at the table, his head buried in his hands. Brenda listened with
+her back to the speakers, looking away out of the window.
+
+There was a long pause.
+
+"Then," said Herbert huskily at last, "if it hadn't been for Peter,
+Aunt Dorothy would never have been drowned."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE LAST STRAW.
+
+
+The words fell like a thunderbolt into the midst of the group.
+Eustace moved involuntarily to Peter's side and put a protecting
+arm round him, as if he had been struck. The little fellow himself
+looked utterly bewildered.
+
+"How can you say such a wicked, wicked thing?" exclaimed Nesta in
+astonishment; "just as if it was poor Peter's fault."
+
+"Well, wasn't it?" demanded Herbert bitterly, his face still
+hidden. "If Peter hadn't been at the other side of the ship--if
+Aunt Dorothy had not had to go away and find him--but you all got
+into the boat and went away and left her!"
+
+"Don't!" exclaimed Eustace sharply. "You don't know what a wreck in
+the dark is like, or you wouldn't talk like that. There isn't time
+to know anything. We didn't know Aunt Dorothy was left."
+
+"I should have known," said Herbert, with all the confidence of
+ignorance, "and I would have stayed and drowned with her."
+
+He broke off short, rose abruptly, and stumbled in a queer, blind
+way from the room. He could not bear that any one should witness
+his grief.
+
+Brenda turned a tear-stained face from the window and stared at
+the trio now standing close together.
+
+"He isn't thinking what he is saying," she said chokily; "but we
+are so frightfully unhappy about Aunt Dorothy--and this seems to
+make it worse--I mean that she might so easily have been saved. Of
+course you didn't really know her, so you can't understand. But
+ever since our mother died Aunt Dorothy--"
+
+But here Brenda's voice broke utterly, and she, too, hurriedly left
+the room.
+
+"Well," exclaimed Nesta, "I think it just horrid of them. I shall
+never, never like them now."
+
+Eustace turned a pair of surprised brown eyes upon her.
+
+"Won't you?" he said wonderingly. "Why, I like them better than I
+did, ever so much."
+
+"What!" Nesta said, "you like them better for saying a horrid thing
+like that? To make out it was Peter's fault! Poor little Peter, who
+was so nearly drowned himself!"
+
+"It wasn't that part I was thinking of," said Eustace, "but just
+how they loved her. Somehow I never thought of it before. Same way
+we love mother, I guess; and I don't know what I should have
+thought if mother had been drowned saving some one else's brother."
+
+Nesta stared at him blankly. There were things about Eustace lately
+that she did not understand. She knew nothing of Bob's maxim about
+looking at two sides of a question, so she could see no reason for
+the strange things he sometimes said, and he was far too reticent
+to have explained.
+
+"Well, all I can say is, I wish we had never come," said Nesta for
+about the twentieth time. "Nothing is nice, and it will be more
+hateful than ever now they feel like that about Peter. We had
+better tell mother and father, and ask them to take us away."
+
+"What's that I hear?" said an astonished voice at the door.
+
+The children all jumped and turned round, for there stood their
+grandfather. They were speechless with dismay; they could not have
+pictured a worse thing happening.
+
+"What did you say, Nesta?" asked Mr. Chase again, in a tone that
+made the twins' hearts stand still.
+
+He looked angry, surprised, and very commanding. But how were they
+to repeat what they had been saying? Nesta remembered they had been
+warned not to speak of Aunt Dorothy before him. Eustace felt it
+would be mean and ungenerous to get Herbert into trouble behind his
+back. But Peter had no such scruples. Dropping his head into his
+arms on the table, he broke out sobbingly,--
+
+"Herbert says it was me drowned Aunt Dorothy."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Mr. Chase incredulously; "he surely never said
+such a thing? Explain this to me, Eustace, at once."
+
+His tone was so severe that the boy literally shook. He had never
+seen any one really angry in his life before.
+
+"He didn't say quite that," Eustace said with difficulty; "he only
+meant it was because of Peter."
+
+"Kindly give me his exact words," Mr. Chase said, still in that
+awful voice.
+
+Eustace closed his thin lips tight, with an expression that meant
+wild horses would not drag it from him. His grandfather scanned his
+face closely, then turned to Nesta.
+
+"As Eustace seems to have lost his tongue, I must ask you to tell
+me what Herbert said in exactly his own words."
+
+Nesta glanced furtively at her twin, but she was angry with Herbert
+and saw no reason why he should be protected.
+
+"He said," she replied, "if Peter had not been at the other side of
+the boat, and Aunt Dorothy had not had to go and find him, she
+wouldn't have been drowned. He said we all went away and left
+her--"
+
+"How dared he!" Mr. Chase thundered. "I am ashamed that a grandson
+of mine should have behaved in such a way. Whatever he thought, he
+had no right to say such a thing."
+
+"He--he was most fearfully unhappy," said Eustace nervously.
+
+"That is no excuse for his making other people so too," Mr. Chase
+replied. "Eustace, go and tell Herbert to come here at once."
+
+It was a disagreeable errand, and the boy whitened as he turned to
+obey. Mr. Chase's prompt, old-fashioned methods were something new
+to him. Fault-finding at home had always been reserved for quiet
+talks alone with father or mother; they were never made big public
+affairs like this.
+
+Eustace found Herbert in his own room pacing up and down the floor
+with his hands in his pockets. He had got control of himself by
+then, and he turned on his visitor with a look of impatient
+surprise.
+
+"What do you want?" he said.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," Eustace began lamely, "but you've got to come
+to grandfather. We were talking about what you said, and he came in
+without our hearing. He made us tell him the rest, and I'm afraid
+he--he is going to lecture you."
+
+"You--you told tales?" said Herbert scathingly. Without waiting for
+a reply he marched past his cousin to the schoolroom. Eustace could
+not bear to follow and see him humiliated. It would be just a
+little better for him with one person less present, he thought.
+
+"Grandfather was fearfully severe," said Nesta later, when she had
+found Eustace prowling about like a bear with a sore head alone in
+the grounds. "So you see it was a beastly thing to say. He said
+Herbert was no gentleman if he didn't apologize."
+
+"And did he?" asked Eustace shortly.
+
+"He said he was sorry if he hadn't behaved like a gentleman, and it
+shouldn't occur again. Most awfully stiffly he spoke, just like a
+grown-up, and then grandfather said he might go."
+
+"And that before you and Peter!" exclaimed Eustace in tones of
+disgust. "I'm jolly glad I wasn't there; it would have made me feel
+a low-down black-fellow if Herbert had apologized to me. I don't
+think Peter behaved like a white man, and I mean to tell him so,
+too, when I get him to myself."
+
+"Grandfather seems to have taken a fancy to Peter," said Nesta. "He
+had come up to fetch him when he overheard me. He said Peter had
+already broken his morning, and he had better have the rest of it
+and take him a walk. Brenda says she never knew him do such a
+queer thing before; he is not generally supposed to be fond of
+children, and that is why we have no meals downstairs."
+
+Every one was surprised at Mr. Chase's sudden partiality for Peter,
+but the reason was a very simple one. From Peter he could hear more
+about Miss Chase than from any one else. No tears choked little
+Peter's voice when he described Aunt Dorothy's first day, or told
+the story of her quaint mistakes. He quite forgot the sad part of
+her visit, and lost himself in his stories. The old man led him on
+from point to point, and learned all that he could of his beloved
+daughter's stay in Queensland without Peter's guessing what he was
+really doing.
+
+The little fellow was radiantly happy. They walked about the
+grounds together, and presently Mr. Chase said Peter must learn to
+ride--he would teach him himself. Accordingly, out went Peter on a
+little pony with Mr. Chase at its head, and the riding lessons
+began.
+
+"It doesn't look as if grandfather thought it was Peter's fault,"
+said Nesta to Eustace; "he seems fonder of him than any one."
+
+If Peter was content, not so the twins. The scene with Herbert had
+produced a very uncomfortable state of affairs. He no longer played
+the part of host, but kept out of his cousins' way as much as
+possible, going out on long expeditions by himself, and never
+joining the schoolroom party when he could help it.
+
+Nesta thought him detestable, but Eustace had a feeling that
+Herbert had been very hardly treated in his own home. He could not
+forget how genuine had been the big fellow's unhappiness over the
+awful loss of his beloved aunt, and Eustace could have forgiven
+much more than the outburst against Peter in the face of such real
+distress. But he had no chance of showing his sympathy; Herbert
+would have resented any exhibition of sentiment most haughtily.
+Eustace only felt exceedingly awkward whenever he was with him, and
+wished with all his heart he could awake to find all these
+unfortunate English experiences nothing but a bad dream.
+
+Between her loyalty to her brother and the sense of courtesy that
+bade her look after her cousins, Brenda had a very difficult course
+to steer; being proud and reserved by nature, she only succeeded in
+being exceedingly stiff in her attempts at civility to the twins.
+
+"It gets horrider and horrider," Nesta said after two or three days
+of it.
+
+But the secret treaty not to trouble their mother and disturb her
+enjoyment held good through everything.
+
+"It will come to an end in a year," Eustace said bravely; "and we
+couldn't bear it after we got back if we had to remember we had
+spoiled mother's trip. She has been longing for it such a long
+time."
+
+Because they saw so comparatively little of their mother, it was
+always possible to keep their grievances from her; and she was so
+certain her children must be sharing the pleasures with herself, it
+never occurred to her to suspect that anything was wrong.
+
+"It wouldn't be us spoiling her trip," Nesta objected; "it would be
+Brenda's and Herbert's faults, because they are so disagreeable."
+
+"It would be because of us," Eustace held out, "and I'll never
+forgive you if you go whining about it to mother or any one. We can
+bear it for a year, or we aren't worth anything."
+
+But even Eustace's courage received a check one evening when he and
+Nesta were called into their mother's room for a talk before she
+dressed for dinner. Her face was aglow with some pleasant thoughts,
+yet she was very serious--a strange mixture that immediately struck
+the twins as portending something very big and out of the way.
+
+"Chicks," she said, drawing them down on each side of her on
+the sofa, "I have got something very special to say to you
+to-day--something I scarcely know whether to be most glad or
+sorry about, for it cuts two ways. It fulfils the ambition of
+my life for you, and at the same time it costs me my twins."
+
+There was a breathless, expectant silence.
+
+"I think for you the happiness will outweigh the pain," she went on
+gently, "because it means new interests, new life, everything you
+must most desire. And, dears, we have to thank grandfather for it;
+he insists on sending you both to school."
+
+"To school!" shouted the twins simultaneously.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Orban said, "actually to school. He wishes you to have
+exactly the same advantages as Brenda and Herbert. Won't it be
+splendid for you?"
+
+There was dead silence. Mrs. Orban glanced from one grave face to
+the other. Nesta's was crumpled and bewildered; Eustace's very
+white, and his expression sadly strained.
+
+"Why, darlings," Mrs. Orban said, "you have always wanted to go to
+school. Hasn't it nearly made me cry again and again to hear you
+craving for a thing we could not give you? And now your wishes have
+been granted as it were by magic, I do believe you are not glad
+after all."
+
+There was such a ring of disappointment in their mother's voice
+that even Nesta was roused.
+
+"We've wanted it awfully," stammered Eustace awkwardly, "but we--we
+didn't think of it coming quite so soon."
+
+"Oh, is that it, you dears?" Mrs. Orban said in a tone between
+laughter and tears. "I was afraid something much worse was the
+matter--that you had changed your minds, for instance, or that you
+didn't like England after all; but of course that couldn't be."
+
+She spoke with such perfect certainty that the twins were dumb;
+they could think of nothing to say.
+
+"There really is rather a blessing in disguise in your going to
+school at once, though I can't bear parting with you," Mrs. Orban
+went on after a little silence. "I shall be quite close to you
+while you are still feeling strange in your new life; I shall hear
+all about everything from you by word of mouth in the holidays; and
+I shall go away next year feeling content that you are settled
+down, and likely to be nothing but a tiny bit mammy-sick at my
+departure."
+
+Eustace rubbed his head against her shoulder.
+
+"More than a tiny bit, mummie," he said.
+
+"We needn't think about that yet, though," said Mrs. Orban
+cheerily; "it is a long way off, with plenty of lovely times
+between. I only wish father had not to go so soon."
+
+"How soon?" queried Nesta sharply.
+
+"He says he must be off the end of this month," was the answer;
+"that is why the school-going has had to be settled so hurriedly.
+But he has a lovely dream for the future: before you have left
+school he hopes to be able to come to England for good and settle
+down here."
+
+"How long would it be before that, mother?" Eustace asked.
+
+"Oh, four or five years, perhaps," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"But shan't we ever go back to Australia again?" Nesta said with a
+gulp.
+
+"You won't want to, my dear, once you get used to England," said
+her mother gently. "Of course it would not be possible for you to
+come home all that distance for holidays, but you will soon learn
+not to mind if you have our home-coming to look forward to. Now I
+will tell you a little about the schools you are going to."
+
+It was easy to listen with apparent interest to this, to put in a
+question here and there and glean all the information possible. But
+when the pair left the room Nesta suddenly gripped her brother's
+arm.
+
+"Eustace," she said huskily, "I--I can't bear it."
+
+"You just must," said the boy sturdily. "I guess there is nothing
+else to do."
+
+The words were so hopeless that Nesta's tears began to fall thick
+and fast, and he drew her almost roughly down the passage out of
+earshot. They reached the picture gallery, and sat down in a deep
+window-seat overlooking the front drive and the beautiful park
+beyond. Here Nesta buried her face in her hands and fairly sobbed.
+Eustace bore it for some seconds, then,--
+
+"Look here, old girl," he said, "don't be silly. You'll have a red
+nose for dessert."
+
+"I don't care," Nesta blurted out.
+
+"But you must care," Eustace said a little impatiently, "because
+then mother will see you have been crying and find out we're
+miserable."
+
+"I don't care," sobbed Nesta again. "I can't hide it any more, and
+I don't want to. I shall ask father to let me go home with him.
+Nothing will make me stay here with these--these horrid people."
+
+"Nesta!" Eustace exclaimed.
+
+"Well, I can't help it; they are horrid, even if they are our
+people. I never thought of them being anything like this. And I
+can't--I won't stay with them."
+
+"Rot," said Eustace angrily. "You know we can't help staying if
+every one says we are to."
+
+"Then," said Nesta, drawing herself up with a sudden attempt at
+dignity, "I shall run away."
+
+"Silly!" Eustace exclaimed irritably.
+
+"You'll see it isn't silly when I do it," said Nesta gloomily. "I
+shall tell father and mother everything about how horrid it is for
+us, and then if they won't take us home--"
+
+She stopped dramatically, leaving Eustace to fill in the threat for
+himself.
+
+"You really will tell mother, and spoil everything for her?" he
+asked in a low, angry tone.
+
+Nesta nodded defiantly.
+
+"Then you are a little beast," said Eustace furiously--"a cruel
+little beast."
+
+Nesta rose with her nose very high in the air.
+
+"Thank you," she said; "you are most awfully polite. I shall take
+care not to tell you anything ever again."
+
+Eustace knelt up on the seat, and leant out of the open window into
+the soft evening air. He was too angry to speak coherently, too
+bewildered to know what to say. With a toss of her head Nesta
+turned and left him.
+
+He heard her determined footsteps die away down the gallery, and
+knew he was meant to understand he had her sincerest disapproval. A
+few months earlier, he would presently have thrown off his sense of
+irritation and laughed at Nesta's little airs of importance.
+To-night he had no heart for the funny side of it. He was vexed to
+have lost his influence over Nesta, and worried at the thought of
+what an upset her headstrong course would make. Let alone his
+mother's disappointment, there would be the grandparents'
+indignation to reckon with, and Herbert's and Brenda's scornful
+surprise. They would indeed think them wild Bush children, and be
+justified in their present attitude of cool unfriendliness.
+
+Yet to be left in these uncongenial surroundings for a space of
+time that seemed like an eternity to a lad of fourteen; to be
+forced to remain with these unsympathetic companions for the next
+four or five years, with no one to turn to and without a home,
+meant desolation as complete for Eustace as for Nesta.
+
+Away in the park some rooks cawed fussily over the choice of their
+night quarters. Nearer, a blackbird piped an evening song. They
+sounded restless and plaintive to the lonely boy, and he hid his
+face in his hands, covering eyes and ears that he might see
+nothing, hear nothing. Then into his mind there surged a
+recollection of the dear old free days at home, never to come
+again. Right in the midst of every memory stood Bob--his friend Bob
+whom he would never see again. That was the thought that broke his
+spirit, and had he been a girl he would have cried; but Eustace
+shed no tears--this sorrow was beyond them, for a boy.
+
+Something hard suddenly struck him with a sharp tap on the
+shoulder, and, as he started back in surprise, fell with a clatter
+back on the gravel below.
+
+Then Eustace gasped, rubbed his eyes, and stared, feeling as if he
+must suddenly have taken leave of his senses; for there in the
+drive, his hand poised ready to throw another stone if the first
+had missed its mark, stood Bob Cochrane.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+BREAKING THE NEWS.
+
+
+Before the boy had recovered sufficiently to make a sound, Bob said
+in a low, distinct voice,--
+
+"Don't make a row, old man. It's all right; I'm not a ghost. I want
+you to get hold of your father for me without a soul knowing that
+you have seen me. Tell him I am waiting by the first drive gate,
+and want to speak to him at once. Mind no one else hears what you
+say. Seeing you is better luck than I expected."
+
+He turned and was walking rapidly away across the centre grass plot
+before Eustace quite realized this was no dream, but a solid truth,
+and that something was required of him.
+
+"Bob, Bob, how have you come here?" he called in a trembling voice.
+
+But the figure only half turned with a warning gesture, and passed
+resolutely on.
+
+For a moment the boy was rooted to the spot. Was this thing real?
+Could Bob possibly be there? The idea was incredible; yet his eyes,
+his ears, both bore witness to the fact. But how had it happened?
+what did it mean?
+
+With thoughts in a turmoil and heart beating to suffocation, he
+made his way to his father's dressing-room.
+
+"I say, father," he said breathlessly, putting his head round the
+door at the answer to his knock, "are you nearly dressed?"
+
+"All but my coat," said Mr. Orban, without turning from the glass
+where he was carefully arranging his evening tie. "Come in if you
+want to."
+
+There was an open door into the bedroom, where Eustace knew his
+mother was certain still to be.
+
+"I--I would rather speak to you out here," said the boy, "if you
+could be quick."
+
+Mr. Orban turned a surprised face.
+
+"Oh, if it is a secret I am sure mother will excuse our shutting
+the door," he said, and suited the action to the word. "Now come,
+out with it. Have you been getting into some scrape, old man?"
+
+The boy looked so extraordinarily white that Mr. Orban began to be
+afraid something serious had happened.
+
+"You are quite certain mother can't hear?" Eustace said in a low
+tone.
+
+"Perfectly," said Mr. Orban, looking more deeply perplexed, for
+hitherto Mrs. Orban had shared all secrets; in fact, the children
+had gone more readily to her with their troubles than to him,
+because he had so little time for such things. "There hasn't been
+any accident to one of the others?" he added sharply, struck by a
+new idea.
+
+"Oh no, no," Eustace said; "nothing like that. But, father," he
+went on, drawing very close, "I'm not to tell another soul--only
+you. Bob Cochrane is here. He is waiting for you down by the first
+drive gate, and wants to speak to you at once."
+
+"Bob Cochrane!" repeated Mr. Orban, blankly staring at the boy.
+"What are you talking about, child? You've been dreaming, or you've
+got a touch of fever."
+
+He passed his hand over Eustace's brow, and found it cool enough.
+
+"But it's the truth, father," Eustace said. "I thought I was
+dreaming myself, and it feels awfully strange still. I was kneeling
+at the window with my head in my hands, thinking--thinking about
+home"--his voice faltered a good deal over the words--"when some
+one hit me on the shoulder with a stone, and I looked down and saw
+Bob."
+
+"Impossible!" said Mr. Orban. "You've had a delusion because you
+were thinking about home. You were thinking so hard about Bob you
+fancied you saw him. Things like that do happen sometimes, you
+know. Bob is thousands of miles away, looking after the plantation;
+he couldn't by any earthly possibility be here."
+
+Mr. Orban spoke so certainly that Eustace's faith in his own reason
+almost wavered; but if vision it were, it had impressed him
+strongly.
+
+"I don't think I could have seen it so clearly if it had only been
+my own thought," he argued aloud. "Besides, he spoke; he said quite
+clearly, 'Don't make a row, old man; I'm not a ghost. I want you to
+get hold of your father for me without a soul knowing that you have
+seen me. Tell him I am waiting by the first drive gate, and want to
+speak to him at once. Mind no one else hears what you say. Seeing
+you is better luck than I expected.'"
+
+The words were branded on his memory by the shock he had received,
+and now it was Mr. Orban's turn to become white.
+
+"If it is so really," he said in an odd, unsteady voice, "he brings
+bad news. Something so bad has happened that he could not break it
+to me in a letter."
+
+It flashed into Eustace's mind that Bob had looked awfully grave
+and queer--if Bob it really were, and no delusion! Suppose his
+father should go to the gate and find no one awaiting him--what
+then?
+
+"You--you will go and see if he is there?" faltered the boy
+nervously.
+
+"I am going at once," said Mr. Orban. "When you are dressed
+yourself, go down into the drawing-room as usual, as if nothing had
+happened." He opened the door into Mrs. Orban's room and said
+lightly, "There's a man just called to see me, dear. If I happen to
+be detained, make my apologies to the old people, and ask them not
+to wait dinner for me."
+
+Mrs. Orban made a cheery, unsuspecting response, and he and Eustace
+left the room.
+
+The twins and the Dixon pair always assembled in the drawing-room
+with every one before dinner was served, and there they awaited the
+summons to dessert, as a rule with books, in dreary silence.
+
+When Eustace came down he found every one waiting for dinner. Mr.
+Orban was not yet in, and Mr. Chase would not hear of beginning the
+meal without him.
+
+"His friend can't in conscience keep him late at such an hour," he
+said. "Of course we will wait."
+
+No one was very talkative. It seemed to Eustace as if something of
+the coming shadow were creeping over the community before the bad
+news could even be dreamed of by any one except himself. There was
+just the sort of deadly calm and stillness over everything that
+comes before a thunderstorm.
+
+Nesta had curled herself up in a deep window-seat, well out of
+sight. Eustace guessed she had made such a fright of herself with
+crying she was afraid to show her face. He sat near the door into
+the great conservatory with a book, pretending to read. Really he
+could do nothing but wonder what terrible thing could be going to
+happen next.
+
+Presently, just when Mr. Chase was getting a little restless, and
+Mrs. Orban began anxiously watching the door, Mr. Orban came
+hurriedly into the room.
+
+"Forgive my being so late," he said in a voice that vibrated
+strangely; "but I am afraid I must detain you still for a few
+minutes. The fact is, a Queensland friend of mine has just turned
+up with--with some rather curious details about the wreck of the
+_Cora_. He thought it would pain us less to hear them by word of
+mouth than by letter, so he came himself."
+
+"Very good of him, I'm sure," said Mr. Chase, looking surprised.
+"Won't he stay and dine with us, and then afterwards--"
+
+"Oh, of course he must stay the night!" cried Mrs. Chase
+hospitably; "and this evening we can talk things over quietly when
+the children have gone to bed."
+
+"I think," said Mr. Orban, with a gravity that impressed every one
+deeply, "my friend would rather have his interview at once. He is
+anxious to get it over as soon as possible. I have asked him into
+the boudoir, Mrs. Chase. I thought we would talk there more quietly
+than here."
+
+"Certainly," said Mrs. Chase, rising and leading the way to the
+boudoir, which opened off the drawing-room.
+
+Every one looked utterly bewildered, and Mr. Chase just a little
+annoyed. It was most unprecedented that dinner should be so
+delayed. Eustace noticed his father whisper something to his
+mother; she started, flushed painfully, and he guessed Mr. Orban
+had told her who the visitor was.
+
+The boudoir door closed after the elders, and there was silence in
+the drawing-room. Herbert became restless, and wandered about the
+room opening books or fingering the ornaments in an aimless way;
+Nesta stared gloomily out of the window, and Brenda tried to read.
+
+Eustace could stand the inaction and the unsympathetic company no
+longer, so, getting up, he strolled into the sweet-smelling
+conservatory to be alone.
+
+There were scents there that always wafted him in memory back
+home--he loved the warmth and the plants. There was a large oval
+stage covered with flowers in the centre, and round this he
+strolled towards the outer door.
+
+So it was about the wreck Bob had come to speak. What more painful
+news could he have to bring than they already knew? The boy's
+common sense told him that the details must have to do with the
+death of Aunt Dorothy; nothing of less importance could have
+brought Bob over. Perhaps he had met an eye-witness of the tragedy!
+Perhaps there were last messages from the drowned girl!
+
+Eustace turned a corner and came to an abrupt standstill. It seemed
+to him in that instant as if his very heart stopped beating and his
+hair stood straight on end.
+
+It was absurd, of course. Bob had turned out to be no mere creation
+of his own brain, but this could be nothing else. Here was proof
+positive of Mr. Orban's words that one has but to think hard enough
+about a person to imagine one sees him.
+
+With her back to the outer door--a white figure with a face as
+colourless as her dress--stood Dorothy Chase; nothing about her was
+lifelike except the familiar deep-brown eyes that gazed steadfastly
+on the startled boy.
+
+It was an extraordinarily vivid hallucination, and not a little
+terrifying. Was it no fancy? Could it possibly be Aunt Dorothy's
+spirit come to visit her old home again? The thought leapt into the
+boy's mind.
+
+Eustace was no coward, but the notion fairly paralyzed him; he
+could not have moved to save his life. One supreme effort he made.
+
+"Aunt Dorothy," he whispered hoarsely, and could say no more, for
+his lips were parched, his throat was dry.
+
+The vision raised a warning hand.
+
+"Hush!" she said; "don't be frightened. I see Bob has not told you
+yet; but it is all right, darling. I am a real live human being,
+and no spirit. Just Aunt Dorothy come back to you safe and sound."
+
+The words seemed to come from far away, and Eustace felt so queer
+he swayed to try and keep his balance. He was so giddy he must have
+fallen had the vision not swept forward and caught him. The feeling
+of those strong arms about him, the warm touch of Aunt Dorothy's
+face bent down to his, brought him with a jerk to himself again,
+and he did not faint. But even then he could not believe his
+senses.
+
+"I don't understand," he gasped, shaking from head to foot in her
+arms; and he pressed his face tight against her shoulder to try and
+recover himself.
+
+"Poor old chap!" said Aunt Dorothy, "how I have upset you! I never
+meant any of you to see me till you knew. Bob is breaking the news
+to father and mother gently. We were afraid the shock of joy would
+be too much for them, so we did not even cable, but came at once. A
+letter would have got here very little sooner than ourselves."
+
+She talked on in a soft, soothing voice to give the boy time to
+pull himself together, and all the time she held him close.
+
+"You--you weren't drowned," Eustace managed to blurt out.
+
+"Very nearly, but not quite," was the reply; "my escape was like a
+miracle. Ah, here comes Bob at last."
+
+"Have I seemed an awful time?" said Bob gently. "It was a difficult
+thing to do. Come--they are waiting for you."
+
+The pair passed swiftly up the conservatory into the drawing-room.
+
+Herbert was standing by the mantelpiece examining a piece of
+valuable Sèvres china. As the stranger, accompanied by that white
+figure, crossed the room to the boudoir, the ornament fell with a
+crash, to be splintered into twenty pieces on the fender.
+
+"Oh, what was that?" cried Brenda, starting to her feet and gazing
+after the apparition.
+
+"It's Aunt Dorothy," said Eustace from the conservatory. "She was
+never drowned at all."
+
+"What!" said Herbert sharply. "You are dreaming."
+
+"Then we are all dreaming," said Eustace gravely. "You saw her for
+yourself."
+
+It would be impossible to describe the scene that followed. When
+the boudoir door opened and the grown-ups all trooped out, headed
+by Aunt Dorothy, the commotion was beyond words. From the midst of
+it Mr. Chase slipped away, to return with Peter in his arms. Peter
+was in pyjamas and dressing-gown, rosy, and fresh roused from
+sleep.
+
+"We can't let him be out of it all," said Mr. Chase. "I have told
+him of our joyful surprise, and he takes it quite calmly."
+
+"Peter would," said Miss Chase, taking the wee fellow in her arms.
+
+"I'm very glad I didn't drown you," Peter said serenely.
+"Herbert--"
+
+But he finished the sentence in an incoherent yell, kicking out
+right and left.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Dorothy in surprise.
+
+"Eustace pinched my bare leg," Peter said irately, wriggling to the
+ground in order to avenge himself.
+
+Eustace caught his wrists, and bending low, whispered,--
+
+"You are not to tell tales. I told you that the other day. You
+don't want to be a low-down black-fellow, do you?"
+
+Peter's face was crumpled with anger, and there is no saying what
+he would have done if Bob had not exclaimed,--
+
+"Hulloa, Peter! haven't you a word for me?"
+
+The shock was complete. Mr. Chase had not mentioned Bob's arrival,
+and Peter was wholly unprepared for seeing him.
+
+"Bob!" he shouted, "good old Bob!" and sprang like a young cat at
+the big fellow, who caught him skilfully.
+
+"When you have quite done throttling me I shall be glad," said Bob,
+after enduring the embrace of the merciless little arms a moment.
+
+"But how did you get here?" demanded Peter of the long memory.
+"Were you bewitched over to England?"
+
+"Come, come," said Mr. Chase; "dinner first and stories afterwards.
+We shall have to eat cinders as it is, I expect, and cook will give
+notice to-morrow."
+
+"Every one must come into the dining-room, father," laughed Aunt
+Dorothy; "I can't part with one of you yet. We will talk while we
+eat."
+
+In a moment everything seemed changed. All the severity had faded
+from the old people's faces; they could not have looked more
+delightfully "grannyish" if they had tried. The dreadful barriers
+of formality were broken down; no noisier, freer family party had
+ever gathered in the Queensland home than the one that peopled the
+stately old dining-room that night.
+
+"This," whispered Brenda to Nesta, "is how we always were before
+Aunt Dorothy went away. Now you can see why we missed her."
+
+The change was something like a fairy tale to the Bush children;
+every one seemed suddenly "magicked" into different beings. This,
+then, was home as mother had known it.
+
+The story of Aunt Dorothy's rescue held the table spellbound; the
+very butler and footman forgot their duties as they listened.
+
+It appeared that, having jumped into the water with Peter, Dorothy
+struck out as fast as possible to swim away from the ship, keeping
+a grip of the little fellow as best she could. But in the terrible
+commotion that occurred on the going down of the _Cora_ she lost
+her grasp, and Peter was swept away from her into the inky
+blackness of the night.
+
+She swam, floated, called, it seemed to her for ages, but all in
+vain, and at last, in a state of utter exhaustion, she gave herself
+up merely to the thought of keeping afloat. She must have been many
+hours in the water, but, losing consciousness after a while, her
+next experience was to find herself on board a vessel of some
+sort--a schooner it turned out to be on her way out to the reefs
+for bêche-de-mer fishing.
+
+"Why, we saw her!" exclaimed Eustace. "Mother, that must have been
+the boat we saw far away out to sea. The captain of the station
+told us it was theirs."
+
+"They must have picked me up soon after dawn, before the turn of
+the tide," said Aunt Dorothy. "I think when I came to my senses and
+saw the kind of people I was among, I was more frightened than I
+had been even by the wreck. Most of them were black-fellows--the
+rest I have since discovered were Portuguese; but not a soul in all
+that uncouth crowd could speak English or understand a word I
+said."
+
+"It was pretty terrifying," Bob agreed.
+
+"They therefore did not know where I came from, where I wanted to
+go, or anything about me. I kept imploring them to take me back to
+land; but this, though they must have understood my signs, they
+refused to do."
+
+"What brutes!" exclaimed Herbert hotly.
+
+"They are a low-grade lot," said Bob in his quaint Colonial way,
+"but you know they can only get the bêche-de-mer at certain tides.
+It would have meant a dead loss to them to have put back, and
+probably they were working under contract, bound to supply a
+certain amount at a given time to their Chinkee employers."
+
+"But it was horrid of them," said Nesta, who had recovered herself
+entirely in the excitement, and was inclined to agree even with
+Herbert for once.
+
+"It was a real adventure, wasn't it?" Eustace said, appealing to
+Bob.
+
+"Rather more of one than I bargained for," said Aunt Dorothy. "But
+in their own rough way the men tried to be kind to me. The food we
+had was disgusting, the boat dreadfully fishy, oily, and dirty;
+there was not a possibility of being comfortable day or night. But
+I have nothing to grumble at. They took me back safe and sound to
+the bêche-de-mer station at last, and there I heard all about you,
+even to the saving of Peter. All the discomforts and horrors put
+together were nothing to my suspense about your fates till then."
+
+The rest of the story was simple enough. Finding the Orbans had
+left Cooktown, Miss Chase instantly communicated with Bob, and
+together they arranged the plan for the home-coming. Their chief
+aim was to convey the good news as gently as possible, and they
+certainly achieved their end.
+
+"I don't know how I could have borne the waiting had you cabled,"
+Mrs. Chase said. "I should have suffered agonies imagining fresh
+accidents that might happen to you all the time."
+
+"Dorothy has become quite an experienced traveller one way and
+another," said Mr. Chase. "You little thought, my dear, when you
+set out so gaily from here, what a stormy life you were embarking
+upon."
+
+"I should think you would be terrified ever to go there again,"
+said Brenda.
+
+"On the contrary," said Bob Cochrane, "I hope your aunt will feel
+encouraged to return before long. What was the compact, Peter? She
+was to come back and be burnt as a witch, wasn't she?"
+
+"Not yet awhile," said Mr. Chase gravely. "You can't expect us to
+part with her for some little time to come."
+
+"Of course not, sir," said Bob genially.
+
+And then he and Dorothy just glanced at each other and laughed with
+a strange kind of joyousness that mystified the Dixons; but Eustace
+looked hard at Nesta and nodded meaningly.
+
+Bob's face was no longer haggard and drawn; it wore its old,
+habitual expression of steadfast happiness.
+
+The party did not break up till "disgracefully late," as Mr. Chase
+put it. Peter was carried by his mother asleep to bed. The twins
+and the Dixons felt so wide awake they fancied they would not close
+an eye all night.
+
+Mr. Chase laughed when he heard the story of the Sèvres ornament.
+
+"I'm not surprised you were startled," he said kindly; "but please
+try to have something a little less valuable in your hands next
+ghost you meet."
+
+"Nesta," said Eustace, following his twin to her door, "what are
+you going to do now? Shall you tell mother?"
+
+"Tell mother what?" asked Nesta, with well-feigned astonishment.
+
+"Why, that you are miserable, and won't stay, and all that stuff,"
+was the reply.
+
+"Of course not, silly," Nesta retorted. "Any one can see everything
+is going to be quite different now Aunt Dorothy has come."
+
+"Of course, silly," said Eustace, in a mocking tone, and they both
+laughed.
+
+"Good-night, you two," said a voice along the passage, and Herbert
+turned off into his own room.
+
+"I'm coming to brush my hair in your room to-night," said Brenda,
+bearing down upon them, brush and comb in hand.
+
+Eustace passed on.
+
+"It is all different already," he said softly. "I think Bob has
+been right all along--Aunt Dorothy has bewitched us, every one."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Queensland Cousins, by Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Queensland Cousins, by Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Queensland Cousins
+
+Author: Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
+Release Date: April 16, 2008 [EBook #25079]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEENSLAND COUSINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Wall, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<h1><big>QUEENSLAND<br />
+COUSINS</big></h1>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" class="jpg" width="374" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;">
+<img src="images/i005.jpg" class="jpg" width="374" height="581" alt="" title="" />
+<span class="caption">It was the great native chief.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center noi"><span class="title">QUEENSLAND<br />
+COUSINS</span><br />
+<br />
+<span class="by">BY</span><br />
+
+<span class="author">E. L. HAVERFIELD</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<span class="pub">THOMAS NELSON AND SONS,</span> <span class="author smcap">Ltd.</span><br />
+<span class="by">LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<small>PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT<br />
+THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS</small></span>
+</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2 class="con"><a name="con" id="con"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+<table summary="Table of Contents">
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>I.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Home</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#i">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>II.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Bob</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#ii">22</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>III.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>The Barefoot Visitor</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#iii">39</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>IV.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>A Night of Terror</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#iv">49</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>V.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>The First Shot</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#v">60</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>VI.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Bob's Verdict</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#vi">69</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>VII.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Peter's Nightmare</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#vii">80</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>VIII.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>The Witch</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#viii">91</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>IX.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>A Riderless Horse</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#ix">102</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>X.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>A Voice from the Scrub</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#x">114</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XI.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Black-fellows</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xi">124</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XII.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>The Secret of the Thicket</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xii">136</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XIII.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>A Great Surprise</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xiii">148</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XIV.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>A Moonlight Disturbance</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xiv">158</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XV.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Who is in the Boat?</em></td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xv">168</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XVI.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>What the Tide brought in</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xvi">177</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XVII.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Mother's Home</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xvii">188</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XVIII.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Peter makes a Diversion</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xviii">201</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XIX.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>The Last Straw</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xix">212</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tda"><em>XX.</em></td>
+<td class="tdb"><em>Breaking the News</em>,</td>
+<td class="tdc"><a href="#xx">225</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
+<big>QUEENSLAND COUSINS.</big><br />
+<br />
+<a name="i" id="i"></a>CHAPTER I.<br />
+
+<small>HOME.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="cap2">It has come, it has come, it has come! Oh, do be quick, father!"</p>
+
+<p>The cry rang out lustily from three young voices, three eager heads
+were thrust over the veranda railings. Below, on horseback, was a
+big, brown-haired, brown-bearded man, who looked up from under his
+soft slouch hat with a laugh, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What has come, you outrageously noisy youngsters? One would think
+I had a family of dingoes, to hear you."</p>
+
+<p>Then another head appeared over the railings&mdash;a gentle-faced,
+fair-haired woman looked down.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the parcel from home, Jack," she said. "Hadji brought it up
+an hour ago."</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, yes, father; it is the parcel from England at last, and
+mother wouldn't open it till you came, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>so we have been waiting a
+whole hour&mdash;the longest hour I have ever lived."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta Orban, to whom one of the first heads over the railing
+belonged, shook back her masses of fair, fluffy hair with an
+impatient little toss.</p>
+
+<p>"Stuff, Nesta; you always say that," exclaimed Eustace, her twin of
+fourteen. "You said it yesterday coming through the scrub because
+you were tired; and the day before when mother made you sew for an
+hour instead of reading; and the day before&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut up!" Nesta retorted. "You needn't quote pages from my
+biography like that. Let's think about the parcel.&mdash;Hurry up, dad,
+darling."</p>
+
+<p>This last she called after her father, for Mr. Orban had not stayed
+a second after his wife's explanation of the excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"The parcel from home," he repeated, all the laughter dying out of
+his face, and he spurred his horse into a trot round the house
+towards the stable.</p>
+
+<p>The heads all came back into the veranda, and there fell a hush of
+expectancy as every one listened for Mr. Orban's footsteps coming
+up through the house.</p>
+
+<p>"La, la, la! look, Nesta. Dolly downside up; Becky done it," piped
+a little voice from the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do be quiet, Becky. Think about the parcel from England.
+Perhaps there is something in it for you," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban had seated herself again in a low wicker chair, and was
+busy sewing&mdash;patching a well-worn shirt with utmost patience.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be cross with Becky," she said gently. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>"She can't be
+expected at two years old to realize the meaning of a parcel from
+home. I don't believe you do yourself, Nesta. It is just a lot of
+nice things from England to you&mdash;only to father and me is it 'a
+parcel from home.'"</p>
+
+<p>Nesta flushed a little and looked grave as she stood by the table
+fingering the string of the wonderful parcel. Such a lot of string
+there was, and so much sewing and writing! Whatever it might
+contain, at least the parcel looked interesting.</p>
+
+<p>The owner of the third head that had looked over the veranda
+railing to shout the news was ten-year-old Peter. It always seemed
+to Nesta and Eustace that he was ever so much younger than they
+were&mdash;perhaps because he had been the baby for so many years, till
+Becky came.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said Peter, setting himself right in front of her, and
+staring at her with wide blue eyes, "why don't you and father live
+in England when you want to so much?"</p>
+
+<p>Peter was fair, and very like his mother and Nesta. Eustace and
+little Becky were the two who were like their father, brown-haired
+and brown-eyed. Peter had a delicate, sensitive face, and he was
+always wondering about things in a queer, dreamy sort of way.</p>
+
+<p>"It is easier said than done, my little son," Mrs. Orban answered,
+bending low over her sewing that the child might not see the tears
+his question had brought to her eyes. "Father must work."</p>
+
+<p>"But couldn't he work in England just as well as Queensland?" asked
+Peter.</p>
+
+<p>
+"Unfortunately not," said his mother sadly. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>"Work is not easy to
+get in England, or anywhere for the matter of that."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace caught the note of sadness in his mother's voice, and
+strolling behind Peter he gave him a kick on the ankle with all the
+air of its being accidental.</p>
+
+<p>"Ow-wow-wow!" exclaimed Peter, hopping on one leg and holding on to
+the other. "You hurt me."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry," said Eustace carelessly, following him across the veranda.</p>
+
+<p>"La, la, la! dolly upside downey," crooned Becky from the floor,
+where she sat deeply engaged in trying to make her boy doll stand
+on its head as she had seen Eustace do.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here," said Eustace under cover of Becky's singing, "don't
+ask stupid questions, Peter. It always makes mother feel bad to
+talk about England&mdash;any silly could see that without being told, I
+should think."</p>
+
+<p>But Peter looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you kicked me on purpose," he said, no louder than Eustace
+had spoken.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"What for?" demanded Peter, flushing hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"To make you shut up, that's all," Eustace said coolly.</p>
+
+<p>Peter dropped his injured leg and flung himself upon his brother
+with doubled fists.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you, you&mdash;you horrid boy!" he said chokily, for Peter's
+temper always sprang out like a sheet of flame up muslin curtains.</p>
+
+<p>With a queer little smile, Eustace gripped his slender wrists, and
+held them so that the little chap could do nothing but wriggle
+about like an eel.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+"Let me go, I say," he said; "let me go, I tell you. I won't be
+held like a baby."</p>
+
+<p>He had about as much strength as a baby in Eustace's grip, for the
+elder boy was a well-built, square-shouldered fellow, and powerful
+for his age.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban looked up at the commotion, and wondered what it could
+be all about so suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"As you are strong, be merciful, Eustace," she said quietly&mdash;that
+was all.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace instantly let go, and Peter stood for a second staring down
+at the two red rings round his wrists, then, as Eustace turned
+unconcernedly away, dashed at his back and pommelled it.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," said Eustace with seeming carelessness, but the words were
+jerked out by the thumps; "my coat hasn't had a brushing for a
+week. Glad to get the dust out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Peter, Peter," said his mother warningly, "you surely don't want
+to be sent away before the parcel is opened, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>This stopped Peter effectually; a minute later he had forgotten his
+grievance, which was also Peter's way.</p>
+
+<p>"So the great day has come at last," said Mr. Orban, coming out
+from the house on to the veranda, which was so large and spacious
+that it was as useful to the household as several extra rooms.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban put away her sewing, and every one gathered round the
+table as Mr. Orban began carefully undoing the string.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's my knife, father," Eustace said, with a pleading note in
+his voice.</p>
+
+<p>
+"Plenty of time, my lad," Mr. Orban said quietly. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>"One doesn't get
+a bit of string like this every day."</p>
+
+<p>Becky had become infected by the excitement at last, and now
+insisted upon being held up in her mother's arms. All the eager
+eyes were bent on Mr. Orban's hands as he skilfully untied knot
+after knot.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't unpick the sewing on the American cloth too, will you?"
+asked Nesta anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"No; I think we can cut that, Miss Impatience," laughed her father.
+"Mother could hardly use it again even for hemming floor-cloths."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not so sure, Jack," said Mrs. Orban; "my stock of cottons is
+running very low. It is time you went away and brought me a fresh
+supply."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban undid the last knot, but instead of taking the knife
+Eustace was still patiently holding out, he began winding up the
+string into a neat coil. The children glanced up in desperation, to
+find his face grave and preoccupied. He looked as if he had
+entirely forgotten the parcel.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, dear?" said Mrs. Orban, with sudden alarm in her
+voice. "Is anything wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban roused himself with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no," he replied slowly; "nothing wrong exactly. Only your words
+struck me oddly, for, as a matter of fact, I have to go away, and
+soon too."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace glanced quickly at his mother, and the look in her eyes
+made him forget the parcel too.</p>
+
+<p>"Not far, Jack, I hope," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather, I'm afraid," was the answer. "I hope you won't mind being
+left for a week or two."</p>
+
+<p>
+"A week or two!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban in a tone that was
+unmistakably disturbed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+"I can't do it in less," Mr. Orban went on. "I am obliged to go
+down to Brisbane on business."</p>
+
+<p>"To Brisbane!" Nesta cried. "O dad, couldn't you take us all with
+you? It would be lovely!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you will find the fares, young woman, I shall be delighted,"
+said her father, pinching her ear. "The journey to Brisbane is
+rather an expensive matter. I couldn't afford to take myself there
+just for the fun of the thing."</p>
+
+<p>"When must you go, Jack?" asked Mrs. Orban, trying hard to speak
+steadily and naturally.</p>
+
+<p>"Next week&mdash;as soon as possible, that is," Mr. Orban said; "and I
+will get back just as quick as I can. You will be all right, dear.
+I will tell Farley or Robertson to sleep up here in the house, and
+you won't feel so lonely at night."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, no," Mrs. Orban said, "don't do that. They have both got
+their wives and families to look after. Eustace will be an
+efficient man of the house and companion to his mummie&mdash;won't you,
+son?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do my best," Eustace said soberly.</p>
+
+<p>To be quite honest, he was as startled as his mother at his
+father's announcement; he did not like the idea at all. He had
+caught that curious look in his mother's eyes, and it troubled him.</p>
+
+<p>But Nesta was too much taken up with the thought of the parcel to
+notice anything except the delay in opening it.</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't we go on?" she pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Nesta," said Mr. Orban, beginning to cut the sewing, "is it
+getting beyond your patience altogether? Well, here goes then!"</p>
+
+<p>
+Inside the American cloth was yet another wrapper, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>this time of
+linen sewn up most carefully, and within that paper after paper.
+The excitement grew more and more tense, till at last, when they
+came to a series of neat packages, each with a label to say from
+whom and to whom the gift was, every one except Becky was beyond
+speaking point.</p>
+
+<p>The joys that parcel contained were indescribable, because no child
+born and bred in England could be made to understand how wonderful,
+how undreamed of, how surprising were the most ordinary things to
+those four Bush children. They lived right out of the world, and
+had spent most of their lives on a sugar plantation in North
+Queensland; the common things of our everyday existence were
+marvels to them.</p>
+
+<p>A clockwork train sent out to Peter with a hope that "he was not
+too old for it" fascinated Eustace, despite his four years'
+seniority; the exquisite little doll's dinner service for Becky set
+Nesta longing to play with it and cook pretence dinners for it.</p>
+
+<p>There was something for every one, and the children's eyes shone
+with pleasure; but Mrs. Orban's were dim as, the unpacking over,
+she turned quietly away and disappeared into the house.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of turning the pages of his new book to look for
+pictures, Eustace missed her, and shortly after Mr. Orban went away
+too.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" Eustace exclaimed, slamming his book together with a big
+sigh, "I do wish parcels from England didn't always make mother
+sad."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess she wants to see grannie and Aunt Dorothy badly," Nesta
+suggested.</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, it is more than that," Eustace said, getting up and moving
+restlessly about. "I sometimes think <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>she simply hates this place
+and everything to do with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you, Eustace?" asked Peter, his eyes round with wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it is fearfully dull, isn't it?" Nesta said. "England must
+be quite different. English stories always make me ache to go
+there. It must be so awfully interesting, mustn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't it be splendid if father said suddenly one day we could
+all go to England!" Peter cried excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think there is the least chance of that," Eustace said.
+"You heard what he said about its being too expensive to take us
+even to Brisbane. It would cost ten times as much to go to
+England."</p>
+
+<p>"I say," Nesta said quickly, "I wonder why father has to go to
+Brisbane in such a hurry? Don't you, Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't thought about it," Eustace answered. "But, anyhow,
+mother doesn't like his going&mdash;that's very clear."</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't she?" Nesta asked in a surprised voice. "How <em>do</em> you
+know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you see her face when father said he must go?" Eustace
+asked with a touch of impatience.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" was all Eustace exclaimed; then he turned, and resting his
+elbows on the railings, stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>
+The Orbans' house was built on the top of an isolated hill three
+hundred feet above a valley which, except where the scrub had been
+cleared for the growing of sugar-cane, was thickly wooded. On <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>three
+sides of the valley, stretching round like a great horse-shoe, lay
+range upon range of hills, now softest purple. The fourth side, on
+which the boy gazed, was bounded by the sea&mdash;a shimmering patch of
+blue. No scene could have been grander, none more infinitely
+lonely. But Eustace was not thinking about it either admiringly or
+otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta joined her brother, and stared curiously at his unusually
+serious face.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Eustace?" she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak, so she put her hand on his shoulder and gave him
+a little shake.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you thinking about?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," Eustace said quite shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," Nesta said; "but what about her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father's going away," Eustace said.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Nesta said, rather scornfully; "you told me that
+before. And I know mother will be dreadfully dull without him."</p>
+
+<p>"Dull!" exclaimed Eustace, knocking the tips of his toes
+impatiently against the woodwork.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dull," said the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Worse than dull," Eustace responded soberly.</p>
+
+<p>"But we can do our best to cheer her up till he comes back."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace turned slowly round until he was staring right into Nesta's
+eyes, and his look was so queer that she was startled.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean to say you don't understand?" he said solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I certainly don't," Nesta replied.</p>
+
+<p>
+Eustace wheeled quickly back to the railing, gazing seaward again.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>"Then I'm not going to tell you," he said decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta stood blankly wondering for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's hateful of you," she began; then suddenly her
+expression changed. "Eustace," she exclaimed, grabbing his arm with
+both hands, "do you mean mother will be frightened?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to tell you," repeated the boy with seeming
+obstinacy.</p>
+
+<p>But Nesta's face was full of certainty.</p>
+
+<p>"It <em>is</em> that!" she said with conviction. "You think she will be
+scared at being left."</p>
+
+<p>Now Eustace had suddenly begun to repent of having said so much. He
+had not the least desire to frighten Nesta; he had honestly
+believed that she must have noticed what he did in their mother's
+tone and look, but now he realized Nesta had not understood. He
+stood silent, regretting his carelessness.</p>
+
+<p>"O Eustace," Nesta cried, "of course it is that. How dreadful! I
+remember now what father said&mdash;he knew mother might be frightened,
+and that is why he offered to have Farley or Robertson up."</p>
+
+<p>There was terror in Nesta's voice now, and Eustace rounded sharply
+upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, shut up!" he said, with a glance towards Peter, who was too
+engrossed with his train at the other side of the veranda to be
+listening. "You don't want to frighten the kids, do you? Besides,
+father said we should be all right, and he knows."</p>
+
+<p>"But mother was frightened," Nesta said, looking unconvinced.</p>
+
+<p>
+"She didn't say so," Eustace argued. "She refused to have either
+of the men up, you see. That doesn't look much like funking it."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>"Then what did you mean?" demanded Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, never mind," Eustace said, throwing himself into a chair and
+reopening his book. "Don't let's talk about it."</p>
+
+<p>"That is nonsense," Nesta said. "How can I help minding about a
+thing like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, but what's the good of talking?" Eustace exclaimed. "Dad has
+to go; we can't prevent that if we talk for ever."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but if it is dangerous&mdash;" Nesta began in a low, awe-struck
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Dangerous!" Eustace repeated. "What could there be dangerous about
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know as well as I do," Nesta replied. "Supposing the blacks
+were to come down on us in the night when we were here all alone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do shut up!" Eustace said sharply. "Why should the blacks
+happen to come just because father is away? They may not even be in
+the neighbourhood."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but you remember that horrid story Kate told us," Nesta said,
+almost whispering. "The father was away&mdash;there were nothing but
+women and children in the house&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, stop, Nesta!" Eustace said. "Of course I remember all about
+it. I don't want to hear the beastly thing all over again. What is
+the good of frightening ourselves all for nothing? Don't you know
+that father wouldn't go if he could possibly help it? And if he
+must go, we've got to make the best of it, that's all. Now I'm
+going to read, so do shut up."</p>
+
+<p>
+Nesta stood silently staring at him a moment, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>but he seemed
+already to have forgotten her very existence.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you are a queer boy," she said, in what the boys always
+called her "huffy" voice.</p>
+
+<p>Still Eustace took no notice.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you will be sorry some day," Nesta said with a little
+gulp, and turned away to Becky, who was calling her.</p>
+
+<p>
+Eustace was apparently engrossed in his book, but not a word did
+he see on the page he stared at so intently. He had done a stupid
+thing, and he regretted it, for the mischief was past remedy now.
+Quite unintentionally he had made Nesta as nervous as he was
+himself, and he knew that nothing he might say would reassure her.
+He was quite right that there was no use in talking about it; he
+felt sure that his father would say he ought not to have said so
+much, and he was vexed with himself for his carelessness. Silence
+seemed the only course open to him&mdash;silence on the subject for the
+present, and for the future a great, whole-hearted resolve to play
+the man come what might.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span><a name="ii" id="ii"></a>CHAPTER II.<br />
+
+<small>BOB.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">Eustace was right: their father would not have gone to Brisbane had
+it not been necessary; but this was not because Mr. Orban was
+troubled by any fears for the safety of his family. He had lived so
+long in North Queensland that he was used to the solitude, and
+thought nothing of the dangers surrounding them. It distressed him
+to have to go away simply because he knew that his wife would be
+terribly nervous without him. Fifteen years in the colony had not
+accustomed her to the loneliness of their position.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the two engineers, and the field manager, Mr. Ashton, who
+all lived at the foot of the hill, the Orbans had no white
+neighbours nearer than five miles off. The field hands were
+coloured men of some five or six different races, chiefly Chinese
+or Malays&mdash;the good-for-nothing riff-raff of their own countries
+come to seek a living elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no society, no constant dropping in of friends, nothing
+to relieve the monotony of daily life. But none of this did Mrs.
+Orban mind; she was always busy and content by day. It was only of
+the night-time she was afraid, when strange-voiced <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>creatures were
+never silent an hour, weird cries from the scrub pierced the air,
+and there arose from the plantation below wild sounds, sometimes of
+revelry over a feast, the beating of tom-toms, and wailing of
+voices as the natives conducted their heathen worship, or indulged
+in noisy quarrels likely to end in bloodshed between antagonistic
+tribes.</p>
+
+<p>But though for some reasons the coolies were not pleasant
+neighbours, the house on the hill had nothing to fear from them.
+Their worst feature was their utter uselessness in any real danger,
+coming from quite another quarter. Though they might serve him
+solely for their own benefit, and were for the most part thieves
+and rogues, the coolies had no desire to harm the white man
+personally.</p>
+
+<p>But wandering stealthily through the woods, homeless and lawless,
+is a race that hates the white man&mdash;the aborigines of Australia.
+Civilization has driven them farther and farther north, for the
+Australian black-fellows cannot be tamed and trained&mdash;their
+nature is too wild and fierce to be kept within bounds except
+by fear and crushing. They are treacherous and savage, and most
+repulsive in appearance. Though spoken of as black, they are
+really chocolate-brown, but so covered with hair as to be very
+dusky.</p>
+
+<p>
+Being very cunning in their movements, it is always difficult to
+know where they are, and there are often such long lapses between
+the times they are heard of, that most people forget their
+existence as a matter of any importance. But Mr. Orban knew that
+his wife was haunted by a very constant horror of them&mdash;a dread
+lest one night the blacks should make a raid <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>upon their plantation,
+as they had been known to do upon other white men's dwellings.</p>
+
+<p>What neither Mr. nor Mrs. Orban realized was how much Eustace and
+Nesta knew of certain terrible events happening from time to time
+in just such isolated homes as their own. It was from the two young
+white maidservants the children heard tales they listened to with a
+kind of awful enjoyment by day, but which were remembered at night
+with a shudder. The creaking of the wooden house in which they
+lived as the boards contracted after the tropical heat of day, and
+the weird sounds rising from the plantation below, held a hundred
+terrors to be ashamed of in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace and Nesta never spoke of these night panics to any one,
+least of all to each other&mdash;they seemed so silly when broad
+daylight proved there had been absolutely nothing to be cowardly
+about.</p>
+
+<p>By some unspoken rule Peter was never allowed to hear these
+stories. He was always considered so very much younger than Eustace
+and Nesta that even the servants had the sense not to frighten him.
+So Peter's spirits were not damped by the thought of their father's
+departure, and he knew nothing of the queer little tiff that had
+taken place between Eustace and Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>It is very odd how people can quarrel over a matter upon which they
+are perfectly agreed; but they frequently do, especially when it
+has anything to do with fear.</p>
+
+<p>
+Nesta went to bed that night still in the sulks, with an air of
+"You'll be sorry some day" about her every attitude. Eustace seemed
+inseparable from his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>book, and disinclined to talk. He went heavily
+to bed, more troubled than ever because, though his mother was
+unusually merry, making much of all the presents from England, and
+showing great interest in them, he saw she was very white, and
+there was still a strange look about her eyes. He suspected her
+gaiety to be only put on for their amusement, and he felt sorrier
+and sorrier for her.</p>
+
+<p>But a good night's rest did wonders for both children, and they
+came in to breakfast in better humours. Nesta forgot to be tragic
+when she heard her father and mother discussing what material
+should be brought from Brisbane for the girls' new dresses. New
+clothes were a rare event for the Orban children, and always caused
+a good deal of excitement.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace had been up early, and everything looked so calm, peaceful,
+and ordinary about the place that he was inclined to be more than
+half ashamed of his outburst the day before. "After all," he
+argued, "nothing ever has happened to us&mdash;why should it now? The
+black-fellows have never come this way. Why should they, just
+because father is away? How could they get to know of his going?
+Besides, the plantation isn't so awfully far off."</p>
+
+<p>He had stood on the veranda and stared down at the sugar mill lying
+at the foot of the hill, where Robertson and Farley lived; at Mr.
+Ashton's house, and all the familiar, odd-shaped huts in which the
+coolies lived. It was all just as he had seen it every day of his
+life, and nothing had ever happened&mdash;why, indeed, should it now?</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban's interest in the new dresses was certainly not
+feigned.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>"Now, Jack," she was saying as Eustace entered the room,
+"don't&mdash;don't go and ask for dusters. It is that pretty pink and
+blue check zephyr I want&mdash;pink for Becky, and blue for Nesta."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dear, you must confess it is just like duster stuff&mdash;now,
+isn't it?" demanded Mr. Orban with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"O daddy, not a bit!" Nesta exclaimed. "What a horrid thought!"</p>
+
+<p>"Some of mother's dusters are very pretty, young woman," said her
+father. "I wouldn't mind having shirts made of them myself."</p>
+
+<p>"I should object very much," Mrs. Orban said with a laugh; "you
+would look like a coolie. But let us talk sense again."</p>
+
+<p>Talking sense meant talking business, which on this occasion was
+the making out of a list of really rather dull things wanted in the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>Daily life begins early on a sugar plantation. It was now only
+half-past six, and the house had been astir since half-past four;
+the children playing, Mrs. Orban working about the house, and Mr.
+Orban away down on the plantation. The comparative cool of the
+morning was the best time for any sort of activity. Later, as the
+fierce December sun rose higher, even the children became listless
+and disinclined to race about.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast, when Mr. Orban went back to work, Mrs. Orban gave
+the children lessons&mdash;the only teaching they had ever had. At
+eleven Mr. Orban returned for early dinner.</p>
+
+<p>
+To our English ideas the routine seems strange; but the Orban
+children were used to it, and had no <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>realization of how different
+was life in their parents' old home. It did not seem at all funny
+even to the twins to have tea at five, and go to bed at half-past
+six or seven. They were generally very ready for sleep by then,
+after their long, exhausting day.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, father," Eustace said suddenly, after a long meditation
+while business was being discussed, "I can stay up to dinner with
+mother when you are away&mdash;can't I? It will be awfully dull for her
+if I don't."</p>
+
+<p>"And me too," said Nesta, who never allowed it to be forgotten
+that, being the same age as Eustace, she claimed the same
+privileges.</p>
+
+<p>"Rot," said Eustace; "you're only a girl."</p>
+
+<p>"And me too," chimed in Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you silly baby," said Eustace impatiently, "what good would
+you do?"</p>
+
+<p>Peter's delicate face became scarlet.</p>
+
+<p>"I could play games with mother quite as well as you," he said with
+an angry frown.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother doesn't want amusing like that to keep her from being
+dull," Eustace declared. "She wants somebody who can talk sensibly
+like father, and be grown up."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta gave a little derisive laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Like father!" she repeated; "that is funny. I suppose you think
+you could be just like him. Why don't you ask him to let you smoke
+one of his pipes at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be silly, Nesta," Eustace retorted.</p>
+
+<p>"It's you who are silly," Nesta said, "thinking only boys can be
+grown up or of any use."</p>
+
+<p>
+"When you have quite done snapping each other's heads off,"
+interposed their father in his deep, quiet <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>voice, "perhaps you will
+allow me to speak. As a matter of fact, the mother thinks of going
+to bed with the cocks and hens herself."</p>
+
+<p>"To bed with the cocks and hens!" repeated Peter, with an
+expression of blank surprise in his blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Now the cocks and hens many of them roosted under the house, which
+was built on pillars, and set some distance above the ground. It
+was not an attractive spot at any time, for here there also lived
+many strange creatures, snakes amongst them.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, not exactly in the henhouse, Peter," said his father, with a
+twinkle in his eyes. "I dare say she will sleep as usual in her own
+bedroom. I was referring more to the hour at which she says she
+means to go to bed&mdash;not very long after you."</p>
+
+<p>"Still you will have dinner&mdash;won't you, mummie?" Eustace said.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," Mrs. Orban answered with a smile; "and I don't think
+it would be a bad plan for you and Nesta to stay up for it, if you
+will promise not to get up quite so early in the morning. We will
+have dinner directly after Peter and Becky are in bed; but we won't
+sit up late ourselves, any of us."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban certainly showed no signs of nervousness to-day; the
+strained expression had left her eyes; she was laughing and talking
+quite naturally.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," thought Eustace, "she was partly upset by the parcel
+from England."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," Nesta exclaimed, "I'm certain I hear a horse coming up
+the hill. Who can it be at this time of day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't know, I'm sure," said her father; "it might be one of a
+dozen people. You had better go and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> sing out 'friend or foe' over
+the veranda; but I dare say it isn't a horse at all. More probably
+it is old Hadji with the mail bag that ought to have come with the
+parcel yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>But the three elder children had disappeared out on to the veranda
+and were leaning over, straining their eyes down the road that
+wound up the hill from the plain.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very rough road, with ruts in it sometimes two or three
+feet deep. During the rains little better than a bog, it was now
+burnt hard as flint.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing to be seen though a mile of road was visible,
+lost now and then among bends; but the children listened
+breathlessly, and at last Eustace said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It is two horses and a four-wheel buggy, and it has only just
+begun the hill. Let's go in and tell father."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what a bother it is so far off!" Nesta exclaimed, with a sigh
+of impatience. "We shall have to wait ages to find out who it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Who do you think it can be, father?" Peter asked, as Eustace
+explained what he believed to be coming.</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know?" Mr. Orban answered with mock seriousness.</p>
+
+<p>"It might be a magician with milk-white steeds, or a fairy
+godmother, Peter, in a coach made out of pumpkins," said Mrs.
+Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"O mother!" Peter cried impatiently, "don't be silly&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The sentence was never completed; it finished in a howl of mingled
+pain and rage.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+"What on earth is the matter now?" asked Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace ki-ki-kicked me," stormed Peter, making a dive at his
+brother with doubled fists; but his father caught him and held him
+pinioned.</p>
+
+<p>"I can pretty well guess why," said the big man severely. "If he
+hadn't, I should have spanked you myself. How dare you say 'don't
+be silly' to your mother?"</p>
+
+<p>Peter hung his head.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't mean&mdash;" he began.</p>
+
+<p>"I should just think you didn't mean it," said his father. "You'll
+kindly remember you've no right by birth to be a cad, and it is
+caddish for a gentleman to speak like that to a lady&mdash;whether he is
+ten years old or a hundred."</p>
+
+<p>"Besides," said Eustace, looking furiously at the small culprit,
+"mother couldn't be silly if she tried."</p>
+
+<p>Peter's humbled expression changed.</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't for you to kick me," he spluttered resentfully; "I'll
+kick you back."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if you like to be a donkey," began Eustace in a lordly tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Who was donkey first?" demanded Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess," said Nesta, who was accustomed to these scenes, "the
+buggy may be in sight at the first bend by now. I'm going to look."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace followed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Peter, what comes next?" asked Mr. Orban, without letting go
+the child's wrists.</p>
+
+<p>Peter looked over his shoulder towards his mother&mdash;the blue eyes
+were swimming with tears, there was a choke in his voice.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+"I'm sorry, mummie," he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>The next moment he was clasped in his mother's arms, there was a
+manful struggle with gathering tears, and then like an arrow from a
+bow Peter was off to the veranda with every intention of thumping
+Eustace soundly. But the news that greeted him there put the recent
+fray right out of his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a buggy, Peter," said Nesta, "and I believe Bob Cochrane is
+driving it."</p>
+
+<p>Now the Cochranes were the Orbans' nearest neighbours&mdash;the family
+that lived only five miles away. It consisted of a father and
+mother and this young fellow Robert, who was six-and-twenty, the
+idol and greatest admiration of the Orban children's hearts. In
+their eyes there was nothing Bob could not do; his shooting, his
+driving and riding, his jokes, his ways&mdash;everything about him was
+wonderful. A visit from Bob was a splendid event, no matter what
+the hour of the day.</p>
+
+<p>Bob had a sister who was about the twins' age, and Nesta's only
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>"It looks just like Bob's driving," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>Then they waited with eager faces, too excited to speak, till
+suddenly they all cried at once,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It is Bob&mdash;it is&mdash;it is&mdash;it is!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Orban came out on to the veranda, Becky toddling
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>"There is no doubt about it," said Mr. Orban as he watched the
+jolting, bumping carriage toiling up the terribly steep hill that
+was almost too much for the horses, fine beasts though they were.</p>
+
+<p>"How strange of him to come in the buggy instead of riding, as he
+is alone," said Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>"Yes," chimed in Nesta, "that was just what I was thinking. Bob
+always&mdash;always rides, excepting&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She paused to think whether she had ever seen Bob driving before,
+and Eustace finished her sentence for her.</p>
+
+<p>"Excepting when he doesn't," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Goose," said Nesta tartly.</p>
+
+<p>"Or, more correctly speaking, 'gander,'" said Mr. Orban. "Well, we
+needn't squeeze our heads to a pulp trying to guess what we shall
+learn from Bob without the slightest trouble in another twenty
+minutes at most."</p>
+
+<p>When Bob Cochrane came within earshot he was greeted with such a
+chorus of yells that not a single word could he hear of what the
+children were trying to say. He grinned back good-humouredly,
+waved, and whipping up his horses, came as fast as he could under
+the veranda. Then he gathered the meaning of the noise.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you come for, Bob?" shouted the three.</p>
+
+<p>"What have I come for?" he repeated, with his particular laugh
+which had a way of setting every one else off laughing too as a
+rule. "Well, upon my word, that is a nice polite way to greet a
+chap. I had better be off again."</p>
+
+<p>He was big, fair-haired, and gray-eyed, not handsome, but far too
+manly for that to matter. As Manuel the Manila boy ran round the
+house to take charge of the horses, Bob got down from the buggy and
+sprang up the veranda steps in contradiction of his own words. He
+was surrounded at the top<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> by the children, all talking at once.
+Without an attempt at answering, he picked up Becky, who adored him
+with the rest, and passed on to Mr. and Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"I apologize for the disorder," Mr. Orban said, "but they have been
+working themselves up into a fever of expectation ever since they
+first heard the buggy wheels. Seriously though, I hope nothing is
+wrong at home. Your mother isn't ill, is she? You haven't come to
+fetch the wife as nurse, or anything?"</p>
+
+<p>Such friendly acts as these were the common courtesies of their
+simple colonial life. But Bob only laughed now.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing wrong at all," he replied. "Mater is right enough; it
+is only Trix who is the trouble now. She doesn't seem to pick up
+after that last bout of fever, and she is so awfully depressed and
+lonely, mother thought if you would let me take a couple of the
+children&mdash;Nesta and another&mdash;back with me for a week, it might
+brighten the kiddy up. Could you spare them, Mrs. Orban?"</p>
+
+<p>"With pleasure," began Mrs. Orban readily, when Nesta started a
+sort of war-dance with accompanying cries of delight.</p>
+
+<p>"When you have quite done!" said Bob, with a solemn stare that
+quelled the disturbance after a moment. "I shan't have an ear to
+hear with by the time I get home, at this rate. Well, who is the
+other one to be? You, Eustace?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace coloured deeply. There was nothing he would have liked
+better. To go to the Highlands, as the Cochranes' plantation was
+called, was the greatest pleasure that could have been offered
+him&mdash;the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> treat had only come his way about twice in his life. It
+meant so much&mdash;rides with Bob, shooting with Bob, long rambles
+always with his hero.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to awfully," he said, and stopped, looking
+beseechingly at his father.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what's the matter, old chap?" asked Bob in a kindly voice.
+"You're as limp as if all the starch had been boiled out of you.
+Come along if you want to, of course. Peter can come another time,
+if it's afraid of being selfish that you are."</p>
+
+<p>"But it isn't that," Eustace said with difficulty. "I mean I can't.
+You see, father is going away, and I couldn't leave mother."</p>
+
+<p>Bob darted a quick look at Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you really going away?" he asked&mdash;"any distance, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunately, yes," Mr. Orban said gravely. "I have to be away
+about a fortnight or three weeks. I go the day after to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Bob looked serious.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say," he said, "I'm sorry."</p>
+
+<p>To Nesta, standing there in the sunshine, with a great big pleasure
+ahead of her, the words conveyed nothing beyond a civil sympathy
+with the annoyance it must be to Mr. Orban to have to go away on
+business. To Eustace, who must stay behind, there was something
+underlying those few words that brought back all the fears of the
+day before.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a nuisance, but it can't be helped," Mr. Orban said;
+"business won't wait."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry," repeated Bob, with that same strange solemnity,
+"because I can't offer to come and stay here while you are away.
+Father is going away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> too, and of course I couldn't leave the mater
+and Trix. If only it hadn't happened just now&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It is very good of you to think of it, Bob," said Mrs. Orban, "but
+of course we shall be perfectly safe. I think I would rather you
+took Peter, though," she added in a lower tone. "Eustace is more
+companionable. I can spare one of the twins, but not both at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," agreed Bob.</p>
+
+<p>He was strangely unlike his usual cheerful self, but he roused
+himself, as every one seemed to be looking at him, and added,
+"Could the children be ready to go back with me soon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Stay till the heat is over, and drive home in the cool with them,"
+suggested Mr. Orban. "I'll say good-bye for the present; I'm due at
+the plantation."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was left alone with Bob, for the others went with their
+mother to watch her preparations for their departure.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, old man," questioned Bob from the depths of a cane chair,
+where he had flung himself for a quiet smoke, "what's up?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace stood staring at him.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," he said with some difficulty, "it's beastly about father
+going, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Rather," said Bob carelessly. "Mrs. Orban will feel awfully dull."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't the worst of it," said the lad mysteriously.</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" questioned Bob indifferently, as he packed his pipe with
+great apparent interest.</p>
+
+<p>"You know it isn't, Bob," Eustace broke out desperately.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>"Do I?" questioned Bob lazily, but with a shrewd glance at the
+thin, pale face before him. "Why, what's the trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's the black-fellows," Eustace said in a half whisper.</p>
+
+<p>Bob raised his eyebrows a little, and was again attentive to his
+pipe.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed?" he said; "what about them?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are all round us in the scrub; you never know where they
+are," Eustace said with a gulp.</p>
+
+<p>"They always are, and one never does," said Bob lightly. "I don't
+see that it matters. Are you in a funk about them?"</p>
+
+<p>The cool question brought crimson to Eustace's cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said sturdily, "but they are a fearfully low grade lot,
+and&mdash;and they have done some awful things in lonely places, out of
+revenge, on white people."</p>
+
+<p>Bob looked up sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you know about it?" he asked in a voice that sounded
+almost stern.</p>
+
+<p>"The servants&mdash;Kate and Mary&mdash;have told us stories," Eustace
+explained.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they have, have they?" Bob positively snorted in indignation.
+"Then they deserve to be sacked."</p>
+
+<p>He was silent a long time, puffing out volumes of smoke, then he
+said suddenly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Eustace, don't get stupid and frightened about the
+black-fellows. Your father has never done them any harm; they have
+nothing to revenge here, for he hasn't interfered with any of
+them."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>"But Kate says that doesn't matter," Eustace said dismally. "She
+says they have a deadly hatred against all white people."</p>
+
+<p>"Kate is an ignorant goose," growled Bob; "much she can know about
+it! Why, my father has had black-fellows in his employment for
+years, and they've been all right. Don't you listen to Kate's
+nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence awhile, then Bob went on,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"But I tell you what I'll do, if it will be any comfort to Mrs.
+Orban. I'll come over nearly every day and hang about the place as
+if I were living here. How would that do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should like it, of course, and I believe mother would," said the
+boy slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you would be all right anyhow," Bob said bracingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," repeated Eustace with less certainty, hesitated, then
+went on haltingly, "but supposing&mdash;of course I believe you,
+Bob&mdash;but just only supposing one night some black-fellows did turn
+up, what should you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should shoot them," Bob said promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"But if you were me?" questioned Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if I were you," repeated Bob thoughtfully. "Well, of course,
+you wouldn't shoot them&mdash;they wouldn't be scared enough of a chap
+your size. On the whole, I think if I were you I should scoot down
+the hill as hard as I could go for Robertson, Farley, and Ashton.
+They would soon settle matters."</p>
+
+<p>"But that would be leaving mother to face them alone," objected
+Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>Bob stared solemnly for one moment, then broke into a laugh.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>"Cheer up, old boy," he exclaimed; "you look as if you had a whole
+tribe at your heels this minute. Why, what has happened to you? I
+thought you had more spirit than to be scared by a pack of silly
+maids' stories."</p>
+
+<p>The laugh was so genuine, the look in Bob's eyes so quizzical, that
+Eustace felt suddenly abashed, and as if he had been making a
+stupid fuss about nothing. With all his heart he wished he had not
+mentioned the subject to Bob&mdash;Bob whose opinion he valued above all
+others, except, perhaps, his own father's.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span><a name="iii" id="iii"></a>CHAPTER III.<br />
+
+<small>THE BAREFOOT VISITOR.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">When Mr. Orban came home to dinner he brought with him another
+excitement&mdash;the mail letters that Hadji ought to have brought with
+the parcel the day before.</p>
+
+<p>To Bob Cochrane, whose parents were Australian born and bred, this
+meant nothing; but he was so intimate with the Orbans that he
+understood their feelings on the subject. He sat silently puffing
+at his pipe while Mr. and Mrs. Orban read their letters. Eustace,
+Nesta, and Peter had seized on some packets which they knew to
+contain English papers and magazines.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mrs. Orban gave a curious exclamation, and all eyes were
+turned questioningly upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, mother, what is it?" cried Nesta, noting the colour
+flooding her mother's usually pale face.</p>
+
+<p>"Any news, darling?" asked Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"I should just think it is news," said Mrs. Orban unsteadily.
+"Listen to this, Jack: 'Dorothy has been so very slow in her
+recovery from the terrible bout of typhoid she had in spring that
+the doctor advises a long sea voyage at once, and we have decided
+to send her out to you by the first boat available. We go up to
+London to-morrow to get her outfit.'"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>"Aunt Dorothy!" yelled the children. "Aunt Dorothy coming here!"</p>
+
+<p>It was a most surprising piece of news, almost incredibly so. The
+children had never seen any of their parents' people, as none of
+them had been over to Queensland. They knew them only by name and
+the oft-repeated tales of childhood, which were their favourite
+stories of all Mr. and Mrs. Orban told.</p>
+
+<p>This was their mother's unmarried sister, Dorothy Chase, who lived
+with her father and mother in Herefordshire, in the "old home" the
+children knew so well by hearsay, and longed so much to see. Some
+one coming out from England was next best to going home, and the
+news produced the wildest commotion of questions and suggestions.</p>
+
+<p>"When will she come, mother? When can she be here?" came in chorus.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I am sure I don't know," Mrs. Orban said; "but it seems to
+me she will not be very far behind this letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Not more than a fortnight, I should think," said Mr. Orban. "You
+see they are hurrying her off."</p>
+
+<p>"O mummie, this is exciting!" Nesta exclaimed. "Do tell us how old
+Aunt Dorothy is!"</p>
+
+<p>"Just twenty-three. She was a little child when I last saw her, and
+I can never picture her grown up."</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-three is a decent age for girls," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Out of a vast and varied experience speaks Sir Eustace," laughed
+Bob&mdash;and Eustace reddened.</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-three," said Mr. Orban. "Fancy little Dot twenty-three!
+There'll be a big change in her."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>"There must be a big change in every one, Jack," Mrs. Orban sighed.
+"What wouldn't I give to see them all!"</p>
+
+<p>"The next thing we shall hear," remarked Bob solemnly, "is that you
+will be clearing out to England&mdash;the whole lot of you. I don't
+think I like the idea of Miss Dorothy coming at all. She will
+bewitch you, and off you will all go."</p>
+
+<p>"No such luck," cried Nesta impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! an impossibility," said Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban said nothing, but looked very grave.</p>
+
+<p>These few words, however, could only shadow the great excitement a
+moment. Mrs. Orban returned to her letter, and read interesting
+little scraps from time to time, such as "'I am cudgelling my
+brains in the hurry to think of everything I can send you&mdash;it is
+such a grand opportunity&mdash;I wish I had time to get a list of wants
+from you&mdash;but I dare say nothing will come amiss. Frocks for the
+girls and yourself, of course&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>"Darling gran!" cried Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I needn't get the duster stuff," said Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"No, none of the clothes," said Mrs. Orban. "I know what grannie is
+when she gets a chance to send a box."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta and Peter went off in high spirits with Bob later in the day,
+Nesta exacting many promises that should Aunt Dorothy by some
+miracle appear before she was expected, Mrs. Orban would send for
+the children back.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace let the party go without a pang; he was actually glad not
+to be going. So taken up was he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> with the new idea that he even
+forgot his fear lest he had made a bad impression on the great Bob.</p>
+
+<p>There was so much to be thought of in the preparations for Miss
+Chase's arrival that even Mr. Orban's departure two mornings later
+left no one depressed. Up to the last Mrs. Orban was wondering
+whether there was anything she could think of that could be brought
+from Brisbane for their visitor's greater comfort.</p>
+
+<p>"She will be used to such a different life," Mrs. Orban said. "I do
+hope she won't mind roughing it."</p>
+
+<p>"Not she," said Mr. Orban heartily. "She will like it all the
+better if we make no changes for her, but just let her see life as
+we live it. After all, it is only for a time with her."</p>
+
+<hr class="hr2" />
+
+<p>"Well, my darling old man," said Mrs. Orban gaily that evening, as
+she and Eustace sat alone at late dinner, "how does it feel to be
+'man of the house'? Do you feel a great burden of responsibility as
+mummie's guardian and protector?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, mummie," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>He was looking very grave, for now that the lamps were lighted and
+it was dusk outside everything felt different again.</p>
+
+<p>The veranda ran round the entire house; only on one side was there
+a flight of steps down to the ground. The drawing-room opened out
+on to the other side of the house, facing the sea. It was here Mrs.
+Orban and Eustace went after dinner, for the day had been
+exhaustingly hot, and now a slight breeze blew landwards.</p>
+
+<p>But for the rustling of leaves and a distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> murmur from the
+plantation, the night was very still. As she meant to go to bed so
+early, Mrs. Orban did not have lamps brought out on to the veranda;
+she and Eustace sat close together in the gloom, their only light a
+faint golden streak from the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Becky had been in bed a long time, and was fast asleep. For a while
+they could hear the servants clearing away the dinner; then there
+was silence even in that quarter, and they knew that Mary and Kate
+had gone to bed.</p>
+
+<p>"We ought to be going too, I think, my man," Mrs. Orban said
+softly.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace slipped down on to a stool at her feet and rested his head
+against her knee.</p>
+
+<p>"O mummie," he pleaded, "not just yet. Couldn't you tell me a story
+first?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could, of course," Mrs. Orban admitted slowly, "but the question
+is, Ought I to? It is getting late for you."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is awfully early for you," Eustace argued. "I don't believe
+you will sleep if you go now. You always say you can't if you go to
+bed too soon. You see, we needn't get up quite so early, as father
+isn't here to go out to the plantation."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," said Mrs. Orban with a laugh. "I really think we
+shall have to make a barrister of you, Eustace, you plead a cause
+so eloquently. But what kind of story shall I tell you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, one of the old home stories, please," he said instantly. "I
+should like to know all I can about it before Aunt Dorothy comes."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if there are any I have not told you," Mrs. Orban said
+thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>"There must be hundreds," Eustace said. "I always think Maze Court
+must have stories without end."</p>
+
+<p>"We used to think so, I remember," said his mother; "but I suppose
+that is always the case with a house when one family has possessed
+and occupied it for so many generations."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a sixteenth-century house, isn't it?" Eustace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Seventeenth century," was the answer, "built in 1688 by Eustace
+Chase, a loyal subject of the king. His father lost everything for
+the cause, and the young man was rewarded for following the
+Royalist fortunes&mdash;or rather misfortunes&mdash;soon after the king came
+to his own again."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace gave a huge sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"I do like belonging to people like that," he said with
+satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Mummie&mdash;the story," prompted Eustace at last.</p>
+
+<p>"I was just hunting my memory for one," said his mother. "Did you
+ever hear how we lost Aunt Dorothy?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace shook his head and settled himself comfortably to listen,
+so Mrs. Orban went on:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"One summer we gave a large party for young people. It happens that
+several of us have birthdays in the summer, and this was a sort of
+combined birthday treat. So we invited friends varying in age from
+five, suitable for Dorothy, to seventeen or eighteen, and a very
+merry party it promised to be. The day began gloriously, but father
+prophesied it was going to be too hot to be perfect; and he was
+right. About the middle of the afternoon thunder-clouds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> gathered
+quickly, and by tea-time there was a raging storm; but it was as
+short as it was sharp, and all over in an hour. There was no
+question as to going out again, the ground was too sopping wet
+after the rain to dream of such a thing, so it was proposed that we
+should have a good game of hide-and-seek all over the house. I wish
+I could tell you what a lovely place home is for hide-and-seek.
+There are so many rooms with doors between that you can almost go
+the round of the house on any landing without coming out into the
+passage more than twice or three times. Then there are several
+staircases, and lastly the turret, which was always used for
+'home,' because it was a regular trap for hiding in. Once found,
+you could never get away from there."</p>
+
+<p>"O mummie," breathed Eustace softly, "how it does make me want to
+go and see it all."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad it does, sonny," Mrs. Orban said. "I want you to want to
+go&mdash;I always pray some day you will. It is a home to be proud of."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, please," said Eustace in the little pause that followed.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think people ever get tired of hide-and-seek," Mrs. Orban
+continued. "It is the one game that seems to suit all ages&mdash;I mean
+among young people. We played on and on till dusk, and then the
+game was only stopped by people coming for or sending to fetch
+their children home. Just in the middle of the first 'good-byes,'
+mother, who had been entertaining grown-ups most of the afternoon,
+came and asked for Dorothy. No one knew where she was. 'Who had
+seen her last?' It was impossible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> to find out, but apparently she
+had not been seen by any one for a long time. Dorothy at five years
+old was a very independent little person, and resented being
+obviously looked after. She always liked to hide by herself, for
+instance. Well, then, there began a game of hide-and-seek in real
+earnest, and it became more and more serious every minute, when
+white-faced groups met in the hall declaring that every corner had
+been searched, and still there was no trace of Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't grannie nearly go mad?" asked Eustace feelingly. He well
+knew what the loss of Becky would mean to his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Very nearly," was the answer; "but I think your grandfather was
+even worse. All the tiny children were taken home, but many of the
+elder boys and girls begged to be allowed to stay and help, and now
+the hunt began outside with lanterns among outhouses and stables.
+The echoes rang with Dorothy's name, but in vain; the hunt was
+useless, and some of us straggled back into the house and began
+calling and looking all over the same ground again. I cannot tell
+you what terrible thoughts had got into our heads by that time. We
+remembered the story of the lady who hid herself in the old spring
+chest and could not get out&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The Mistletoe Bough lady," breathed Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; and we hunted every box, chest, and cupboard in the house,
+but Dorothy was in none of them. She seemed literally to have been
+spirited away. It became so late that at last all the other
+children were taken home, and we were left just ourselves&mdash;a very
+miserable family."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>Eustace sat up suddenly and held his breath, his face blanched, his
+eyes alert.</p>
+
+<p>"At last, close on midnight," Mrs. Orban went on in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, mother," Eustace said in a sharp whisper, kneeling and
+putting an arm protectingly round her, "did you hear something?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, darling," Mrs. Orban continued, "close on midnight&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," Eustace said, "not then&mdash;now&mdash;this minute, as you were
+speaking!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban started perceptibly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, darling," she answered. "Why? Did you?"</p>
+
+<p>There was an instant's tense silence.</p>
+
+<p>"It is some one coming round the veranda&mdash;barefoot," Eustace
+whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"One of the maids, perhaps," said Mrs. Orban, but her voice
+quivered.</p>
+
+<p>"They would come through the house," said the boy. "This fellow has
+come up the veranda steps. I heard them creak."</p>
+
+<p>A lifetime in great solitude sharpens the hearing to the most
+extraordinary extent. Children born and brought up in the wilds
+often have this sense more keenly developed than any other. The
+Orban children seemed to hear without listening&mdash;sounds which, even
+when she was told of them, Mrs. Orban, with her English training,
+did not catch till several minutes later.</p>
+
+<p>But now the pad-pad-pad of bare feet was unmistakable&mdash;a
+pad-pad-pad, then a halt, as if the visitor stopped to listen.</p>
+
+<p>Below in the scrub&mdash;that wild thick undergrowth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> among trees,
+harbouring so many strange creatures&mdash;there were hoarse cries, and
+now and then the howl of a dingo, so horribly suggestive of a human
+being in an agony of pain.</p>
+
+<p>The pair on the veranda clung together for an instant&mdash;one only.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go to Becky," whispered Mrs. Orban, recovering herself.</p>
+
+<p>But Eustace held her down.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't&mdash;don't for one moment," he implored; "wait and see what
+it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Pad-pad-pad" came the steps, nearer and nearer. A shadow fell
+aslant the corner of the veranda&mdash;the shadow of a man thrown by the
+light from the drawing-room side window.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;">
+<img src="images/i050.jpg" class="jpg" width="374" height="571" alt="" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The shadow of a man fell aslant the corner of the
+veranda.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
+<a name="iv" id="iv"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br />
+
+<small>A NIGHT OF TERROR.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap2">Mrs. Orban," called a voice softly&mdash;a familiar English-speaking
+voice; "Mrs. Orban, are you still up?"</p>
+
+<p>Mother and son fell apart, and Eustace sprang to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it is Bob!" he exclaimed in bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob!" cried his mother. "Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit," said Bob Cochrane, coming round into the streak of
+lamplight, carrying his boots in his hands. "I just strolled over
+to see if you were all right. When I got to the steps it struck me
+I might startle you if I came thundering up, so I took my boots off
+and crept round to find out where you were. You were so quiet I
+thought you must have gone to bed and left the lights burning."</p>
+
+<p>"We were talking, nevertheless, when you arrived," Mrs. Orban said,
+"for I was telling Eustace a story."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't hear you," Bob said. "Probably my heart was in my mouth,
+and beating so loud that it deafened me; for, of course, I knew I
+carried my life in my hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Your life in your hand?" repeated Eustace wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>"Certainly. I felt sure you would bound on me with a revolver the
+moment you heard me, shoot me dead, and then demand an explanation.
+It is the sort of ardent thing one might expect from a knight of
+your order, Sir Eustace."</p>
+
+<p>Bob's chaff went deeper home than he meant it to. Eustace was in no
+mood for joking after the strain of the last few minutes. He hoped
+with all his heart that Mrs. Orban would not betray to Bob how
+terror-stricken he had just shown himself. Perhaps she understood,
+or it may be that she was half ashamed of her own unnecessary
+panic, for she only said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It is really very good of you to have come in the face of that
+grave peril, and at such an hour too."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the fact is I wanted to," Bob said in his casual way, "and
+the mater insisted. I've left our old foreman sleeping in the house
+for to-night, and I thought I would just turn in with Eustace, if
+you don't mind."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be simply delighted," Mrs. Orban said, with a feeling of
+real relief.</p>
+
+<p>"The mater wants me to take you all back to the Highlands early
+to-morrow," Bob went on; "you, Becky, and Eustace. She can't bear
+to think of your loneliness here. Do come and stay with us till Mr.
+Orban comes back."</p>
+
+<p>It was the kind of thought good, homely little Mrs. Cochrane was
+celebrated for. But Mrs. Orban shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"It is just like your mother to think of such a thing," she said,
+"and just like her son to be her messenger so readily, but I can't
+do it, Bob. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> couldn't possibly leave the maids and the house to
+take care of themselves. Mary and Kate would be terrified."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, bother Mary and Kate!" said Bob.</p>
+
+<p>"I should be <em>most</em> bothered if they took it into their heads to
+run away and leave us, especially now that my sister is coming. No,
+really, I cannot leave home, much as I should enjoy it. Your
+mother, as an experienced housekeeper, will feel for me in that."</p>
+
+<p>"We forgot the maids and the house," said Bob in a disappointed
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>"It can't be helped," said Mrs. Orban lightly; "and, indeed, we are
+quite all right. There is nothing to be afraid of, and I have
+Eustace.&mdash;Which reminds me, old man, hadn't you better be off to
+bed? This is considerably later than I meant you to be."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh but, mother," Eustace exclaimed, "what about Aunt Dorothy? I
+couldn't sleep without the rest of that story."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, do let's have the rest of the story first," pleaded Bob.</p>
+
+<p>"There isn't much left now," said Mrs. Orban. "I was only telling
+him how we once lost Dorothy in a game of hide-and-seek when she
+was five years old. We had been hunting the house for hours; a sort
+of awful silence had fallen among us, as if we were expecting I
+don't know what&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"When close upon midnight," quoted Eustace in a mysterious voice.</p>
+
+<p>"There arose the cry of a terror-stricken child&mdash;shriek upon
+shriek&mdash;feeble because of the distance it was from the great hall,
+where we were all mustered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> in shivering silence, but distinct
+enough to be recognized as Dorothy's voice. I shall never forget
+it&mdash;it makes me shudder now&mdash;for the panic in that child's cry was
+appalling. What was being done to her? What awful pain was she in
+that she should shriek in such a way? Such were our thoughts as we
+hurried in a tumbling mass after father and mother. We reached the
+turret stairs, and father commanded every one with lanterns to go
+first and light the way. Right to the very top we went, into the
+little round room we called the Watchman's Nest, and here the
+sounds were loudest; but they were still muffled, and there was not
+a sign of Dorothy anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>"Was there any furniture for her to hide in?" asked Eustace,
+looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"One table, one chair," said Mrs. Orban, "and a small black oak
+cupboard against the inner wall&mdash;it would have just about held
+Dorothy on the lower shelf. We opened it, flashed in our lanterns,
+but it was black and empty. One peculiar feature there was about
+it&mdash;when the cupboard door was open we heard the child more
+clearly. It seemed a stupid, senseless thing to do, but down I went
+on my hands and knees to feel those empty shelves, as if I imagined
+Dorothy might be there in spite of our seeing nothing&mdash;invisible
+but tangible. Of course there was nothing but wood to touch; but
+with my head inside there, I could hear Dorothy so well I might
+have been in the same room with her."</p>
+
+<p>"How queer!" Eustace broke out excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>"'Dorothy, Dorothy,' I shouted. 'Mother&mdash;I want mother, mother,
+mother,' she shrieked. 'Where are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> you? Tell us where you are,' I
+called. 'I want mother, mother, mother,' was the only answer.
+'Mother is here,' I said; and again, 'Tell us where you are.'
+Something made me feel the cupboard again, and this time I did not
+only touch the shelves, but put my hand right back. 'Quick, quick!
+a lantern,' I simply screamed, and half a dozen were lowered
+instantly. There was no back to the cupboard on the lower shelf.
+The blackness we had mistaken for the old oak was just
+nothingness&mdash;a deep, deep hollow into the wall."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," Eustace cried, "a secret chamber!"</p>
+
+<p>"A secret chamber that no one had ever suspected; and Dorothy it
+was who had found it."</p>
+
+<p>"But how?" The question came from Bob Cochrane.</p>
+
+<p>"She was the most daring child I have ever known," said Mrs. Orban.
+"I don't think Dorothy knew what fear meant in those days. She knew
+that scarcely any one ever searched the turret, because it was
+difficult to get away from, and it entered her small head to creep
+up to the Watchman's Nest and into this cupboard. Whether she went
+to sleep waiting for us to find her, or whether she rolled over at
+once and fell down the little flight of steps into the secret
+chamber, to lie there stunned, no one knows. Dorothy could not
+explain herself. Anyhow, there she was, and the moment she came to
+her senses and found herself in the dark she began to scream with
+fright."</p>
+
+<p>"But how was it no one had ever discovered the secret chamber
+before?" demanded Eustace. "It seems funny."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>"You would not think so if you saw the cupboard," Mrs. Orban said.
+"It is a little, insignificant-looking thing&mdash;low and rather deep,
+and, as we then found, built into the wall. The back of the lower
+shelf was a sliding panel; and your grandfather's theory is that
+the last person who used the secret chamber left the panel open.
+Without nearly standing on one's head it was impossible to see the
+back of the lower shelf, and no one had ever suspected such a
+thing."</p>
+
+<p>"O Bob, Bob, wouldn't you just like to see Maze Court?" cried
+Eustace. "I shall never be happy till I do."</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you you will all be off on Miss Dorothy's broomstick one of
+these fine days," growled Bob. "She is a witch, and she has already
+bewitched you, for you can talk of nothing but England now."</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go to bed, Eustace," Mrs. Orban said with a laugh.
+"Bob is getting quite fierce."</p>
+
+<p>Bob left very early next day to get back to work. As Nesta and
+Peter were having holidays, Eustace, of course, did no lessons, but
+spent the day very contentedly helping his mother. She was busy
+rearranging furniture in the room that was to be Miss Chase's, and
+they scarcely sat down the whole day till evening.</p>
+
+<p>"Early to bed this night, my son," said Mrs. Orban as they left the
+dinner-table. "I expect you will sleep like a top."</p>
+
+<p>He was looking sleepy already, and a quarter of an hour later went
+very readily to his room, with a parting entreaty to his mother
+that she would not sit up late.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>"Not I," was the laughing rejoinder. "I promise you I will only
+write one little line to father and begin my mail letter to
+grannie, and then I will go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>This Mrs. Orban did, and being very tired she fell asleep almost as
+soon as her head touched the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>For several hours a great silence reigned over the house; but even
+when it was broken by the soft pad-pad-pad of bare feet creeping
+stealthily round the veranda, the sleepers lay utterly unconscious.
+The stairs had not creaked under the weight of this figure; it cast
+no shadows, for there was no light either within the house or
+without. At every window it halted, listened, peered in, as if it
+had the eyes of a cat to see with in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>First came the dining-room, and next it the room in which Eustace
+and Peter slept. Round the corner were Mrs. Orban's room and part
+of the drawing-room. At the other corner was Nesta's room, where
+Miss Chase would also sleep, and next to that the servants' room.</p>
+
+<p>The strange visitor made a complete tour of the veranda and reached
+the stair again.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was dreaming vividly. He was out with Nesta and Becky.
+Becky had been specially entrusted to their care, and they had been
+told only to go a little way into the scrub. As a rule the children
+were not allowed to go into the scrub without a grown-up in charge,
+for there were dangers among the thick bushy undergrowth known by
+this odd name. For one thing, snakes abounded there; for another,
+it was only too easy to lose one's bearings, wander farther and
+farther into the wood, and eventually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> die of thirst and
+starvation, utterly unable to find the way home again. To Eustace's
+distraction, in his dream Becky would insist on playing
+hide-and-seek, and kept constantly disappearing and returning,
+flitting on in front of them now and again like a will-o'-the-wisp.</p>
+
+<p>"We mustn't let her do it," Eustace exclaimed. "Run, Nesta; we must
+catch her."</p>
+
+<p>But the faster they ran, the farther Becky went; it was
+extraordinary how fast she could go.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't keep up," Nesta panted.</p>
+
+<p>"Just like a girl," puffed Eustace back, for he was getting
+exhausted himself.</p>
+
+<p>Then Becky disappeared right out of sight, and though Eustace
+called her till the echoes rang again and again with her name,
+there came no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I guess we shall all be lost," thought Eustace desperately.</p>
+
+<p>He was rushing madly hither and thither, when suddenly he heard a
+blood-curdling yell not very far off. It was followed by another
+and another, till his heart stood still with terror.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," he said, pulling himself together with all his might,
+"she must be in the secret chamber. I never thought of that."</p>
+
+<p>But even as the notion flashed into his mind he knew how silly it
+was to think of a secret chamber in the Bush. He was so paralyzed
+by the awfulness of the sounds that for a moment he could not move;
+but at last, with a mighty effort, he forced himself to dart
+forward in the direction whence the cries came.</p>
+
+<p>A second later he was fighting blindly with some thing that clung
+unpleasantly to him. It took him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> a moment to realize that this was
+the mosquito net round his bed. He was out on the floor in his own
+room at home. He had been dreaming, and was now awake; but the
+screams continued, and were most horribly real. It was not Becky's
+voice&mdash;no child could have cried like that.</p>
+
+<p>There was a door from his room into Mrs. Orban's, and through this
+the boy dashed.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, mother," he cried, "what is happening?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a light in the room. Mrs. Orban was standing with a look
+of terror on her face.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she said unsteadily.</p>
+
+<p>"It has been going on for ages," Eustace whispered.</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Orban shook her head. "It has only just begun," she said.
+"I must go and see what is the matter."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was haunted by his dream&mdash;a second in a dream is equivalent
+to hours of real life.</p>
+
+<p>"O mother, don't go!" he exclaimed in an agonized voice, and clung
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>"I must," was the answer, and gently but firmly Mrs. Orban put the
+boy from her. "Perhaps one of the servants is ill. At least they
+are both frightened, and need me. Stay here with Becky."</p>
+
+<p>The words were hardly out of her mouth when the door burst open,
+and in rushed Mary, followed by Kate. Both girls looked half mad
+with fear.</p>
+
+<p>"O ma'am, ma'am," they cried, piecing out the tale between them,
+"there was a black-fellow in our room. He has stolen our watches
+from under our pillows, and everything he could find before we
+woke, and he was pulling the rings off Mary's finger when she felt
+him and jumped out of bed. But he got the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> rings, and we don't know
+where he is&mdash;somewhere about the house&mdash;and maybe there are others
+with him. O ma'am, whatever shall we do? We shall all be murdered
+in our beds."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, you silly girls," said Mrs. Orban, with sudden
+sternness; "we can't possibly be murdered in our beds when we are
+all out of them."</p>
+
+<p>Even in the stress of the moment Eustace could not help being
+struck by the humour of the assertion, but he was in no mood for
+laughing.</p>
+
+<p>Creeping to the window, he peered out, to find that it was no
+longer pitch dark; there was a sufficient glimmer of light to have
+enabled their uninvited guest to do all that the servants
+described.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Becky was awake and howling. Her mother took her into
+her arms and soothed her gently.</p>
+
+<p>"As to what we shall do," Mrs. Orban said in that same firm tone;
+"we must all stay here till daylight together. If there are thieves
+about the house, we can do nothing to check them. They will not
+hurt us if we don't interfere. There is nothing to be done but to
+behave as little like cowards as we can manage."</p>
+
+<p>"But black-fellows do such&mdash;" began Kate.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold your tongue, Kate," said the usually gentle Mrs. Orban, with
+sudden anger. "What good can it do to scare yourself and us by
+talking in such a way? We are in God's hands, don't forget that."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," Eustace said, "has father got his revolver away with
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"There are two in this room," Mrs. Orban replied. "Could you use
+one if necessary?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>"Oh, for mercy's sake don't let Master Eustace have a gun in his
+hands!" said Mary. "There's no saying which of us he might shoot in
+mistake if he began playing with one."</p>
+
+<p>"Playing with one!" repeated Eustace scornfully; "why, father says
+my shooting is very good for my age."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban took a revolver from a cupboard and gave it into the
+boy's hands.</p>
+
+<p>"It is loaded," she said, and now there was the suspicion of a
+quiver in her voice; "but realize I am trusting you to be sensible.
+Don't shoot at random. Remember what Bob said last night. You are
+only to fire if terribly necessary. Now jump into Becky's bed, or
+you will be getting a chill and fever."</p>
+
+<p>From beneath her own pillow she drew out a second revolver,
+examined it, and set it on a table within easy reach.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said Eustace in surprise, "do you always sleep with a
+revolver under your pillow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only when your father is away," was the reply. "Now, Mary and
+Kate, get into my bed. I am going to sit in this cosy chair with
+Miss Becky. We will talk and keep the light burning; but it is my
+belief nothing more will happen to-night."</p>
+
+<p>The maids obeyed, still looking terrified, and then Mrs. Orban
+seated herself, with Becky in her arms, near the table where the
+revolver lay.</p>
+
+<p>Thus they prepared to face the remaining hour of darkness,
+powerless to do anything, utterly helpless, with nerves strung to
+the highest possible pitch, and hearts that beat wildly at every
+sound.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span><a name="v" id="v"></a>CHAPTER V.<br />
+
+<small>THE FIRST SHOT.</small></h2>
+
+<p class="cap">Mrs. Orban's words were brave, her whole bearing courageous, but
+she was more frightened than she had ever been in her life before.
+It is doubtful whether she really believed her own assertion that
+nothing more would happen that night, though she tried to. As a
+matter of fact her prophecy was correct. Scared by the screams of
+the women, the unpleasant guest must have promptly run away. He was
+probably alone, and, uncertain as to who was in the house, had fled
+from the chance of being peppered by a revolver.</p>
+
+<p>It was found in the morning that nothing was missing except the
+servants' watches, their few small trinkets that were lying on the
+dressing-table, and Mary's rings. The extraordinary silence with
+which he had perpetrated the theft, his skill in taking the rings
+off Mary's hand as it lay outside the coverlet, were not at all
+unprecedented&mdash;the natives were known to be silent and subtle as
+snakes in their doings.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban sent Eustace down to the plantation as soon as she knew
+every one would be astir. Mr. Ashton, the field manager, was
+suffering from fever,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> so that it was useless to go to him; but on
+hearing the story, Robertson, the chief engineer, returned with the
+boy to look into the matter.</p>
+
+<p>Investigations were in vain; the man had left no tracks around the
+house, no footprints on the veranda.</p>
+
+<p>The servants were so terrified that they declared they would not
+stay another night in the house. They wanted to be sent to Cooktown
+immediately&mdash;a five days' journey by sea. Robertson, a big burly
+Scotsman, roughly told them that such a thing was impossible. They
+could not get away for another week, when the schooner might be
+expected to bring provisions. He lectured them on their cowardice
+in wanting to run away and leave their mistress alone at such a
+time, but the girls would not listen to reason; they said they
+would hire horses and ride all the way to the first civilized place
+they could find.</p>
+
+<p>Then Mrs. Orban tried persuasion. Had they not better wait at least
+to see whether anything could be heard of their lost possessions?
+She would offer a reward to any one finding the thief or restoring
+the stolen goods to their owners&mdash;the offer should be made known
+all over the plantation.</p>
+
+<p>The suggestion carried the day, and the bargain was made. Mrs.
+Orban felt that at all costs she must keep the maids until Mr.
+Orban's return, for the work and the solitude would have been too
+much for her to stand, brave as she had proved herself to be.</p>
+
+<p>The offering of a reward was greatly against Robertson's advice. He
+pointed out that it would only prove an incentive to further
+robbery. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> plantation hands were an unprincipled lot, and if
+they discovered that they could get money by stealing things and
+bringing them back, as if they had discovered them in the
+possession of some one else, there would be no end to the thefts,
+and no tangible means of getting hold of the thieves unless they
+were caught red-handed.</p>
+
+<p>But so anxious was Mrs. Orban to keep the servants that she
+disregarded Robertson's opinion, and the reward was duly offered.
+The engineer had one proposal to make, which was accepted. With
+Mrs. Orban's leave, he said, he, with his wife and two little
+children, would come up the hill and sleep in the house until Mr.
+Orban's return. There would be safety in numbers; and if the night
+visitor came again, some one to deal with him better than by
+screaming at him.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of the fuller house, and the fact that Robertson's
+eight-year-old boy was sleeping in Peter's bed that night, Eustace
+did not feel particularly happy in the hours of darkness before
+him, after the party had broken up and said good-night.</p>
+
+<p>The door between his mother's room and his own was left open, by
+way of companionship for them both, but the boy was so overtired as
+to be restless and unable to go to sleep. To his excited fancy
+there were unusual sounds about. The creaking of unwarping boards,
+the soughing of the night breeze round the house, even Sandy
+Robertson turning round in his bed, with an impatient but sleepy
+flump at the heat, were noises that set his hair on end and made
+him feel cold and damp all over again and again. Once or twice he
+stole from his bed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> peer into his mother's room, but she always
+seemed asleep; or he would look stealthily out of the window, as if
+he could possibly have seen anything in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>Robertson, with his wife and baby, was in Nesta's room at the other
+side of the house. It occurred to Eustace that if anything did
+happen&mdash;anything needing immediate action&mdash;Robertson was very far
+away and ungetatable. The boy sat up in bed hugging his knees,
+making feverish plans as to what he should do supposing the night
+visitor came again and he should see him.</p>
+
+<p>Unknown to his mother, Eustace had taken the revolver he had been
+entrusted with the night before to bed with him. He meant to sleep
+with it under his pillow, but every time he got up to make his
+investigations he took it, gripped tightly in his hand ready for
+immediate use.</p>
+
+<p>When the first gray light stole into the room at last, Eustace
+began to feel drowsy. Almost against his will he lay back on his
+pillow and fell asleep. He had determined to watch the night
+through, but a great heaviness overpowered him, and he lay like a
+log.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him he had hardly closed his eyes&mdash;indeed, it cannot
+have been much later, for there was but little difference in the
+light&mdash;when a resounding pistol report rang through the silent
+house. Eustace awoke with an instant consciousness of having slept
+on his self-imposed sentry work. He felt queer and oddly shaken as,
+with a cry of dismay, he sprang out of bed and rushed into his
+mother's room.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what is it?" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, frightened out of her wits
+by the noise.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>She stared at Eustace, who stood, revolver in hand, gazing blankly
+round the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," he began, stopped abruptly, and added in a choked
+voice, "Oh, look! look!"</p>
+
+<p>He was staring towards the window. Outside on the veranda,
+crouching on all fours in the dusk, was a dark figure. With a
+strange, sudden movement it raised itself and stretched out an arm
+towards the room&mdash;standing lank, tall, and horribly sinister.</p>
+
+<p>Without a moment's hesitation Eustace raised his hand and fired.
+There was a splintering of glass, a wild howl of pain, and the
+figure dropped like a stone.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace," cried Mrs. Orban in a horrified voice, "what have you
+done?"</p>
+
+<p>"I had to fire first," returned the boy in an odd, sullen tone.</p>
+
+<p>The figure outside moved, and with a succession of dreadful yells
+began rapidly crawling along the veranda towards the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>At the bedroom door appeared the entire household, Robertson
+leading the way, his usually ruddy face ghastly with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"What on earth is happening?" he asked, staring at Eustace and his
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>"I've shot something," Eustace faltered. "It is going down the
+steps&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Robertson waited to hear no more. Seizing the boy's revolver, he
+took a short cut through the house for the veranda steps.</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?" asked the frightened women, as they huddled together
+in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Eustace answered&mdash;"a black-fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> of some sort. I
+wonder if I&mdash;I killed him."</p>
+
+<p>There had fallen a sudden silence outside; the awful howling had
+ceased.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace sat down on the edge of his mother's bed feeling sick and
+shivery. To have killed a man&mdash;a white fellow, black-fellow, any
+sort of fellow; it was horrible!</p>
+
+<p>The most extraordinary sounds arose from the veranda. Had Robertson
+gone mad, or what could be the matter with him?</p>
+
+<p>"Ho-ho-ho! ha-ha-ha! ho-ho-ho-ho!" he roared.</p>
+
+<p>Every one stood as if paralyzed. There was something terribly
+uncanny about the laughter. It seemed so ill-timed, so jarring and
+unkind.</p>
+
+<p>Robertson appeared at the broken window.</p>
+
+<p>"Upon my word, Eustace," exclaimed the Scotsman, "it's the best
+joke ever I heard or saw. Come and look at your black-fellow and be
+proud of yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't!" said Eustace, his knees knocking together as he
+attempted to stand, and he fell back on the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what is it, Mr. Robertson?" asked Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's nothing but a miserable, half-starved dingo-dog that
+must have prowled up to the house in search of food," Robertson
+said. "You marked him well&mdash;I will say that for you, Eustace. He
+was dead before I could reach the steps."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God it was not a human being," exclaimed Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"A dingo!" cried Eustace, sitting up suddenly with a perplexed
+expression in his eyes. "Then who fired the first shot? I mean the
+one that woke me."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>The relief faded from Mrs. Orban's face. It was a startling
+question, an uncomfortable reflection that the first shot had not
+been accounted for.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, by the way," she said, "there was that other shot. It seemed
+to come from Eustace's room, and I was frightened out of my wits. I
+was thankful to see him safe and sound a minute later."</p>
+
+<p>"I heard two shots distinctly," Robertson said, looking grave; "but
+of course I fancied Eustace had fired twice at the dingo."</p>
+
+<p>"Not I," said Eustace. "I never saw the beast till I came into
+mother's room; and I didn't fire till it stood up against the
+window and looked like a human being."</p>
+
+<p>"H'm," said Robertson. "It strikes me I had better have a look
+round. Just stay here till I come back."</p>
+
+<p>The women all looked scared. It was not a pleasant idea that the
+person who fired that first shot was possibly lurking about
+somewhere in the shadows. They listened breathlessly as Robertson
+made the tour of the house, momentarily expecting a fresh
+commotion, the firing of shots and a struggle. Mrs. Robertson was
+dreadfully upset, and held her two children close; the maids
+huddled together in a corner. Mrs. Orban stood, revolver in hand,
+near Becky's bed with such quiet dignity that somehow Eustace was
+steadied.</p>
+
+<p>The chances were that, finding himself hunted by Robertson, the man
+would try to effect an escape on to the veranda this way as a short
+cut to the steps.</p>
+
+<p>If the visitor were the same as that of the night before, it was
+all important he should be captured&mdash;otherwise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> this disagreeable
+night raid might be repeated.</p>
+
+<p>But no shots and no sound of a scuffle were heard. Robertson
+returned to say that he had investigated every nook and cranny that
+a man might have hidden in, and found no trace of any one having
+entered the house anywhere.</p>
+
+<p>The little gathering stared about with questioning, bewildered
+eyes, and no one felt any happier for the news. The fact remained
+that a shot had been fired by a mysterious being who had apparently
+vanished into air. For what purpose had that shot been fired? At
+what? At whom?</p>
+
+<p>"I can't make it out," said Robertson. "There seems no sense in a
+fellow coming and letting off fireworks in the middle of the night
+for nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it is a trick of some sort," suggested Mrs. Orban; "some
+one trying to frighten us. But I don't see that that is possible."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor I," said Robertson. "People aren't in the habit of playing
+practical jokes without some purpose in them hereabouts. All the
+same, it doesn't seem much good all of you staying up like this. If
+you'll just get back to your beds, I'll watch for the rest of the
+night. It may be a better way of trapping a chap, if he hasn't got
+clean away by now. That is the most likely thing, of course&mdash;his
+firearm probably went off inadvertently as he was coming round the
+veranda, and he knew he had done for himself, so made tracks at
+once. He might come back as soon as he thought the house was quiet
+again, but I don't expect him."</p>
+
+<p>No one felt much inclined to take Robertson's practical advice. At
+the same time it seemed foolish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> to stay up and exhaust themselves
+for nothing, and Mrs. Orban agreed that every one should go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace went very reluctantly. He would have liked to stay up and
+share Robertson's watch like a man; it seemed so childish to be
+sent to bed after taking part in such an excitement. He wondered
+what Nesta would have thought of it had she been there.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness, wouldn't she have been scared!" he reflected. "I do
+wonder what she would have done."</p>
+
+<p>At least there would be plenty to tell her when she came home. She
+might be having a jolly time; but Eustace guessed, when it was all
+over, she would be disappointed at having been out of such
+adventures as these. There was a sort of glow about the realization
+that they were such very real adventures&mdash;experiences that did not
+come every day and to every one. The only stupid part about it was
+having to go to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban felt no glow in her realization of the situation. She
+longed for her husband, and wondered how she was going to bear his
+absence much longer. If this sort of thing were to go on she felt
+that it would break her nerve entirely.</p>
+
+<p>Having kissed Eustace and sent him away, she felt too restless to
+get into bed. Sleep she knew would be impossible; and taking a
+book, she was just sitting down with the set purpose of making
+herself read awhile, in order to quiet her mind, when a sharp cry
+reached her from the next room.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother! mother!" Eustace cried, "come here&mdash;quick!"</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span><a name="vi" id="vi"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br />
+
+<small>BOB'S VERDICT.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">She found Eustace standing beside his bed staring at it in utter
+bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"My dearest boy, what is it?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, look at that!" Eustace exclaimed, pointing down at the
+coverlet.</p>
+
+<p>From about the centre of the bed on the right side, down almost to
+the foot, was a long brown streak like a burn: the coverlet was cut
+and charred.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban stared at it in astonishment</p>
+
+<p>"What can it be?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't think," Eustace replied.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better fetch Robertson," Mrs. Orban said. "There is
+something very odd about this."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you mind being left alone, mother?" Eustace asked, looking
+round anxiously, as if he thought an explanation of the mystery
+might jump from under a bed or out of a cupboard.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Orban replied gravely.</p>
+
+<p>It amused her even in her anxiety that this slender scrap of
+fourteen should assume such an air of protection, but it touched
+her also, and she would not for worlds have let him fancy she could
+smile at him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>Robertson hurried to the spot immediately, and when he saw the
+condition of the coverlet he looked utterly nonplussed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, this is a queer state of things," he said, rubbing his head
+meditatively. "I never saw anything to equal it."</p>
+
+<p>Further examination proved that not only was the coverlet burnt
+right through, but the under clothes were scorched and crumbled
+like tinder at a touch.</p>
+
+<p>"It looks like the track of a shot," Robertson said; "but how could
+it come there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Eustace said, "unless some one was kneeling on the
+floor at the foot of the bed and tried to shoot me without raising
+his hand. The shot sounded most awfully close."</p>
+
+<p>Robertson took a quick survey of the situation, ending with an
+examination of the wall at the head of the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said, "that couldn't be. The bullet would have gone into
+the pillow or lodged in the wall, but there isn't a sign of it.
+Seems to me it went the other way by the mark. It is broadest in
+the middle of the bed."</p>
+
+<p>He followed the line with his eye, then glanced across the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," he exclaimed, going over to the opposite wall, "here is the
+mark of the bullet&mdash;here is the bullet itself, deep in the wood.
+That shot went off from the middle of your bed, lad."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace looked incredulous, Mrs. Orban horrified. It was awful to
+think that the boy had been in such danger. The man who had fired
+that first alarming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> shot was close to him, perhaps bending over
+him, when inadvertently the weapon had gone off! The mother could
+picture it only too vividly, and she felt sick at the thought of
+the ghastly peril.</p>
+
+<p>"But what happened to the man?" questioned Eustace. "I was awake in
+a minute, and must have seen him."</p>
+
+<p>"Not if he ducked under the bed," suggested Mrs. Orban. "He must
+have been there when you came to me, and made his escape the
+instant you were out of the way."</p>
+
+<p>"Much more likely if he had knocked the youngster on the head to
+silence him," argued Robertson, as he stood toying with Mr. Orban's
+revolver. "I don't think that story will wash."</p>
+
+<p>Quite suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"I have it," he said. "Eustace, you young rascal, what a scare you
+have given us!"</p>
+
+<p>"I!" exclaimed Eustace, with a touch of indignation in his tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you," was the reply. "Why, you fired that first shot
+yourself; I'll bet you anything you did. You only shot once at the
+dingo&mdash;there are two chambers empty in this revolver. Come, own up;
+where was the revolver when you went to sleep?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace flushed crimson as the realization flooded his mind.</p>
+
+<p>"It was in my hand when I jumped out of bed," he said. "I&mdash;I do
+believe I went to sleep holding it. I dropped off suddenly."</p>
+
+<p>He remembered how inexplicably queer and shaken he had felt when he
+awoke. Now he came to think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> of it, he had been strangely jarred. A
+mere sound could scarcely have accounted for the feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that clears the whole mystery, then," said Robertson. "There
+is no one lurking about the house, and there hasn't been anything
+to be frightened about&mdash;except that you might have shot your own
+foot through, and lamed yourself for life."</p>
+
+<p>"He might have killed himself," said Mrs. Orban seriously. "It was
+a terribly dangerous thing to do."</p>
+
+<p>She said nothing more, for it was evident Eustace felt very small
+and uncomfortable. It was the tamest possible ending to what had
+promised to be such a stirring adventure&mdash;such a tale to tell!</p>
+
+<p>Presently, when he was left alone to try and get a little sleep
+before it was time to get up and dress, the full humiliation of it
+overcame him. What would his father say? and Nesta? and, worse and
+worse, Bob Cochrane? How he would be laughed at&mdash;teased! He would
+never be allowed to forget the dingo he had mistaken for a
+black-fellow; and he felt hot all over when he thought of that
+foolish shot&mdash;the cause of all the commotion.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very depressed Eustace who appeared at breakfast. He took
+Robertson's unabated amusement so gravely that the engineer stopped
+laughing at him, and wondered if the youngster were sulking.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban felt a good deal distressed to see how pale the boy was,
+and that he could hardly touch the food set before him. But every
+one showed signs of exhaustion, as was natural after two nights of
+such unusual strain. Mrs. Orban kept Eustace with her all day,
+setting him small jobs to keep him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> occupied. They all went to bed
+early that night, and the household slept without rocking.</p>
+
+<p>Next day, in the cool of the morning, Bob Cochrane rode over to
+inquire how the Orbans were getting on. Eustace heard him come&mdash;the
+boy was on the lookout for this particular visit&mdash;and as Bob walked
+round one side of the veranda, Eustace disappeared along the other,
+left a message with Mary that he was going down to the mill, and
+started away from the house at a run. The truth was, he felt he
+simply could not be present while Bob listened to the story of his
+absurd adventures; he wanted the narration to be over before he
+faced the fusillade of chaff with which the young fellow might
+pepper him. "He'll think me a silly little fool, I know he will,"
+Eustace told himself again and again; "and he'll say, 'What did I
+tell you about shooting recklessly?' I expect he'll think I'm a
+baby, not fit to be trusted with firearms. It's disgusting, just
+when I was hoping he might begin to think me worth taking out
+shooting with him soon."</p>
+
+<p>Thoroughly out of conceit with himself, Eustace wished he need not
+go home at all until Bob was certain to be gone. But no sooner did
+he reach the mill and begin wandering about the rooms full of
+machinery than it struck him it had been rather cowardly even to
+run away for a time. Bob would know he had not felt equal to facing
+him, and perhaps he would despise that as much as he was bound to
+be amused at the other. The lad had a sharp tussle with himself,
+and at last started back up the hill with the feelings of a most
+unwilling martyr going to the stake.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>He was about two-thirds of the way up when he caught sight of Bob
+Cochrane coming swinging down towards him. Bob was just the kind of
+fellow every boy wants to grow into&mdash;big, well-made, splendidly
+manly; he looked jolly in his riding-suit.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa!" he called as soon as he came within speaking distance.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa!" Eustace called back tonelessly, his heart thumping hard,
+his colour coming and going ridiculously.</p>
+
+<p>Bob waited till they met. Then, "Well, youngster," he said gravely,
+putting a big hand on the lad's shoulder and walking on beside him,
+"you've had a rough time since I saw you last. I don't wonder you
+shot at that dingo in the way you did; I should have done it
+myself, I believe, under the circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace's heart almost stopped beating, he was so surprised; he
+could not speak a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course that chap coming the night before put you all on edge,"
+proceeded Bob, "and you were flurried by the first shot. That might
+have been a nasty business too. Glad you didn't hurt yourself."</p>
+
+<p>There was another pause, but Bob did not seem to mind. He went on
+again presently,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It is just this kind of thing, I always think, that gives one a
+bit of a useful warning: first, to be cautious; and second, to keep
+a cool head. You'll never go to sleep with a revolver ready cocked
+again, and another time you will give yourself a second's
+deliberation before you fire at anything looking like a man. It
+might have been Robertson making a tour of the house, you know."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>Eustace felt suddenly rather sick.</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought of that," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," was the cheery response. "One doesn't look all
+round a question in a hurry, but one has to learn to remember there
+may be two sides to it. You'll get the hang of the idea one of
+these days. I know it was a long time before I gave up wanting to
+shoot down everything I didn't quite like the looks of. Sometimes
+it turns out well, sometimes pretty badly."</p>
+
+<p>He ended with a little laugh. Eustace, looking up into the merry,
+kindly face, knew that the awful time he had so dreaded was over,
+and it had not been an "awful time" after all. Bob did not think
+him a fool; he might have done the same himself, he said. He only
+warned him to be more careful another time, and gave him the
+reasons why he should.</p>
+
+<p>The boy had always admired this friend of the family; he positively
+glowed with pride at this minute that Bob was a friend of his own.
+Whatever might happen now, whoever might snub or laugh at him,
+Eustace had this comforting knowledge always at heart&mdash;Bob
+understood, and Bob was a man no one would laugh at.</p>
+
+<p>"He is a brick," thought the lad warmly. "I wish there was
+anything, anything in the world I could do to show him what a brick
+I think him. If ever there is, won't I just do it! The more
+dangerous it is the better."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember once having a pretty gruesome experience," said Bob,
+chatting on easily. "I expect you've never heard about it, because
+you were nothing but a kiddy at the time, and it has been
+forgotten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> lately. I was going home across our plantation with two
+other fellows late at night&mdash;much later than the mater liked us to
+be out. In order to be as quick as possible, when we got to the
+little line running to the mill we hoisted the trolley on to the
+rails and began pushing ourselves along at a great rate. It was the
+sort of darkness one can peer through, making things look weird and
+distorted, often much bigger than they really are."</p>
+
+<p>"Like the dingo."</p>
+
+<p>"Like the dingo. Well, we were getting along finely, when we got to
+rather a steep gradient and had to go slower up it. Near the top
+one of us suddenly caught sight of something unusual to the left of
+the line. It looked like a huge cowering figure, wide but not tall.
+Whether four-legged or two-legged it was impossible to say because
+of the gloom. It wasn't a nice feeling to have this thing silently
+waiting for one. We all boo'd and shoo'd first, thinking that if it
+were a beast of any sort it would scoot at the noise; but it didn't
+stir an inch or make a sound. We felt pretty creepy by then, for
+black-fellow tales were even commoner in those days than they are
+now. From the size of it we guessed it might have been a group of
+three men. Then we shouted, 'Hands up and declare yourself, or we
+fire!' But still the creature didn't move or speak."</p>
+
+<p>"My hat!" exclaimed Eustace sympathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"We had got to get past it somehow to reach home, for it wasn't
+likely we could stay there all night. We gave it two more chances,
+and then we fired for all we were worth. There were instantly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+shrieks, groans, and such horrible sounds that we waited for
+nothing more, but pushing our stakes into the ground, sent the
+trolley flying past the awful spot and down the next hill. How we
+didn't turn over and get killed down that incline I don't know&mdash;it
+was the one nearest home, you know, where one has to be so
+fearfully careful about putting on a brake as a rule. However, we
+got in all right, and gave a detailed account of our adventure.
+Every one was interested and puzzled. Father was a little inclined
+to laugh; he said it was probably the stump of a tree, but of
+course we had evidence against that in the genuine shrieks and
+groans following our shots. 'Well, we must just go first thing
+to-morrow,' father said, 'and look into the matter by daylight.'"</p>
+
+<p>"And did you?" asked Eustace eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather! I should just think we did&mdash;father, a friend of his who
+was staying with us, and the two boys I had been out with. We rode,
+and when we got to the spot the first thing we saw was the huge
+stump of a newly-felled tree, right in the very place we had seen
+the gruesome object."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace whistled.</p>
+
+<p>"But a tree couldn't shriek and groan," he objected.</p>
+
+<p>"So <em>we</em> said when father began minutely examining the bark; and to
+our satisfaction there wasn't a single shot mark in the tree,
+though we must have fired half a dozen between us. 'We can't have
+seen this,' I said, feeling rather cock-a-hoopy; 'it must have been
+something nearer.' We were just all puzzling our heads over the
+matter when a Chinkee came running towards us from a group of huts
+not very far off. He was gesticulating and making a fearful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> fuss.
+We followed him in a fine state of excitement, and he led us to a
+little low shed with a railing before it. We looked in, and there
+lay two dead pigs!"</p>
+
+<p>"Two dead pigs!" cried Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. It was pretty humiliating, for it just proved we had aimed at
+the tree and missed it. Instead, we shot the Chinkee's inoffensive
+pigs. It was many a long day before that joke was forgotten against
+us. Moreover, amongst us we had to scrape a pound together to pay
+the Chinaman for his loss. I never felt so small in my life."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace could well appreciate the sensation after his own
+experiences.</p>
+
+<p>Bob took a very light view of the real visit the Orbans had had
+from the black-fellow two nights before.</p>
+
+<p>"He wouldn't have hurt any one," said the young fellow. "He was
+nothing but a cowardly thief, or he wouldn't have behaved in the
+way he did. I'm only sorry you've offered a reward for the things;
+it will be an incentive to other fellows to do the same. However, I
+dare say, with Robertson sleeping up here, no one will venture
+again. I shouldn't worry if I were you, Mrs. Orban."</p>
+
+<p>"I will try not to," Mrs. Orban answered bravely.</p>
+
+<p>They had a quiet enough night again to warrant confidence, and
+every one felt rested and refreshed next day.</p>
+
+<p>Just after breakfast Kate appeared to tell her mistress that a
+Chinaman from the plantation wished to speak to her. His name was
+Sinkum Fung, and he was the plantation storekeeper, a man who
+thought a good deal of himself, but for lying and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> trickery, Mr.
+Orban declared, was no better than his neighbours the coolies who
+dealt at his shop.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Sinkum Fung was shown on to the veranda, he did a good
+deal of bowing and scraping by way of politeness, and he had so
+much to say on the subject of his own unimpeachable integrity that
+it was a long time before Mrs. Orban could bring him to an
+explanation of his early visit. Both she and Eustace guessed he
+must be wanting to sell something, and probably hoped to drive a
+good bargain in Mr. Orban's absence, the cunning of the average
+Chinese being unsurpassed.</p>
+
+<p>After a considerable preamble, Sinkum began the following
+remarkable tale, all told in such strange Chinkee patter, and with
+so much self-praise interspersed, that it took the listeners' whole
+attention to unravel it.</p>
+
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span><a name="vii" id="vii"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br />
+
+<small>PETER'S NIGHTMARE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">Some nights before Sinkum Fung was sitting in his store waiting for
+customers. His best trade was always in the evening, when the
+coolies' work was over, and they had time to do some shopping. But
+it was getting late, and Sinkum thought it about time to close the
+store and go to bed. Suddenly there fell a shadow across the
+threshold, and a big black-fellow entered&mdash;a stranger whom Sinkum
+Fung had never seen before. What had he come to buy? Sinkum asked
+politely. But the black-fellow had come to buy nothing&mdash;he had a
+fierce, wild face, and his voice made Sinkum tremble when he said
+he had not come to buy, but to sell. He declared his name to be
+Jaga-Jaga of the great "Rat clan" now living in the Bush not far
+away. He had found, he said, a white man hanging in a tree, caught
+and held fast by the dreadful "wait-a-bit" cane that will swing
+round man or beast at a touch, and hold them fast till they die of
+exposure and starvation. This man was dead, and on his body,
+Jaga-Jaga said, he discovered sundry things which he now brought to
+the store to sell. What would Sinkum Fung give for them? The
+payment must be made in food, for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> tribe were nearly starving.
+Food was difficult to procure in the intense heat; the ground was
+arid and unproductive.</p>
+
+<p>Sinkum examined the goods; he made his offer; whereat the wild man
+swung his boomerang disagreeably, and indicated that he must have
+"more, more." Tears of self-pity flooded Sinkum's eyes. He had no
+choice but to obey, and at last the black-fellow left with a sack
+containing ten times the value of the goods the storeman had been
+forced to buy. He had been cheated, cruelly used; he was a poor
+man, and could not stand such losses. The things were of no
+value&mdash;none; but if he had not bought them he would have been a
+dead man.</p>
+
+<p>Sinkum's hands were no longer in his sleeves&mdash;he had made dramatic
+passes, illustrative of the fearful fate that might have befallen
+him.</p>
+
+<p>It presented to Eustace's mind a vivid picture&mdash;the black-fellow
+with poised boomerang standing over the shrinking Chinkee,
+threatening his life if he did not obey the exorbitant demands.</p>
+
+<p>To Mrs. Orban came another thought. There apparently really were
+black-fellows in the neighbourhood&mdash;a whole tribe living in the
+Bush.</p>
+
+<p>The story of the poor white man strung up in the wood made the
+listeners shudder. Such a thing had never come into their
+experience, but they knew the terrible possibility of it. Many a
+man has been so detained in the Bush, riding inadvertently against
+the "wait-a-bit" or "lawyer cane." It springs round its victim like
+a coiled spring, and he is helpless to free himself if his arms
+happen to be pinioned. Who could this particular poor fellow have
+been, found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> not far from the plantation? No one would ever know,
+Mrs. Orban reflected pitifully.</p>
+
+<p>"And what were the things you had to buy, Sinkum Fung?" asked
+Eustace, with intense interest.</p>
+
+<p>Sinkum searched amongst his curious garments and produced a handful
+of things, which he set solemnly down upon the table beside Mrs.
+Orban, watching her narrowly, to see what effect his action
+produced.</p>
+
+<p>She gave a start of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said Eustace, springing to his feet, "this is the servants'
+jewellery, and their watches. The black-fellow never got them off
+any dead white man at all; he stole them straight out of our
+house."</p>
+
+<p>Sinkum nodded drearily.</p>
+
+<p>So he had discovered, he said. When too late he had heard of
+the reward for the catching of that black-fellow. He could
+only claim the reward for returning the goods; but surely the
+good missee would not let him lose so much. He had given ten
+times the value of those things, and thus only had he saved
+them from the black-fellow.</p>
+
+<p>In his endeavour to point out that it was due to him, and him
+alone, the jewellery had reappeared, Sinkum Fung next fell
+into raptures over his own deeds. Had he but known that missee
+wanted the black-fellow too, he would have given his greatest
+treasure&mdash;his fine long pig-tail&mdash;to have detained him. He made
+the statement with a great air of devotion&mdash;a Chinaman does not
+part lightly with his pig-tail.</p>
+
+<p>But no amount of assurances would prevail on Mrs. Orban to give the
+man more than the promised regard. Any further claim he might have
+to make, she said, must be made to Mr. Orban on his return.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> Sinkum
+Fung went away in a transparently aggrieved frame of mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," Eustace said, as soon as the man's footsteps died away
+round the veranda, "did you believe his story about the
+black-fellow?"</p>
+
+<p>"At first, yes," Mrs. Orban admitted. "I dare say such a thing is
+quite possible. I pictured the black-fellow bringing in a wallet
+containing the poor traveller's kit, a worn leather belt, with
+perhaps some money in it, a pipe and pouch."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is what I expected," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Then one could have believed that Sinkum Fung might be taken in by
+the tale," Mrs. Orban went on; "but never tell me he believed it
+when he saw those trinkets. They are not the sort of things a
+Bushman would be carrying about with him, and Sinkum knows that as
+well as I do. He is no simpleton. His mistake was that he thought I
+might be one, and he overreached himself in his description of the
+ferocious Jaga-Jaga."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't even think Sinkum was terrified into buying the things?"
+Eustace asked.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban shook her head and smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"I very much doubt it," she said. "Indeed, I am inclined to fancy
+the thief was no black-fellow at all now. It is just as likely he
+was a Malay or Manila boy from the plantation, and Sinkum Fung is
+in collusion with him. They will probably go shares in the reward;
+but Sinkum meant to make as much more out of me for himself as he
+possibly could."</p>
+
+<p>"My word! if the other fellow comes again," said Eustace, "don't I
+just hope we shall catch him."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I hope and trust he will not come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> again," said Mrs.
+Orban gravely. "We have had quite as many disturbances already as I
+feel inclined for."</p>
+
+<p>Mary and Kate were delighted to get back their belongings, and made
+no further reference to running away. They felt more secure with
+the Robertson family living in the house. Besides, a letter from
+Mr. Orban stated that he was getting through his business quicker
+than he had expected, and he should only now wait for Miss Chase's
+boat from England, because she would need an escort up country.</p>
+
+<p>This cheered every one immensely. It was something to look forward
+to, and the days began to go quicker and more brightly.</p>
+
+<p>Then Nesta and Peter came home full of all their doings at the
+Highlands, and this made a great difference to the house. Eustace
+did not know he could have been so glad to see his brother and
+sister; it was not till they came back that he realized how dull he
+had really been without them.</p>
+
+<p>The Robertsons still stayed. Nesta slept with her mother, and the
+three boys were in the next room.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta knew a good deal about the excitements that had been taking
+place at home. It was thought useless to try and hush the matter
+up. Something was bound to slip out in the course of conversation,
+and so she was given the lightest possible version of the theft,
+ending with an amusing account of Sinkum Fung's visit.</p>
+
+<p>Of course Bob brought the children over, and to Eustace's intense
+gratitude, when it came to the story of the bogus scare, and Nesta
+seemed inclined to giggle, Bob said gravely, "Older people have
+made worse mistakes," and then proceeded to tell the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> story against
+himself about the tree stump and the pigs.</p>
+
+<p>There was something so big and nice about Bob's nature that,
+without meaning to, he always made people ashamed of being petty
+and ill-natured when he was present.</p>
+
+<p>"You made a good shot at the dingo, old man," he said. "It won't be
+long before you are out shooting with me, at this rate."</p>
+
+<p>Of course no one could laugh at Eustace after that. Bob saw nothing
+funny about what he had done&mdash;Bob actually praised him&mdash;and when
+Bob praised it meant something.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," Nesta asked when the twins were alone together, "weren't
+you most awfully scared?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess I was rather," Eustace admitted; "but of course it
+was silly to be. Mother thinks it was only one of the plantation
+hands now, and not a black-fellow at all, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"But a plantation hand might have knifed somebody," Nesta said,
+with a shudder. "I hope he won't come again. I know I should scream
+like anything."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe it would be the worst thing you could do," Eustace said
+gravely. "He would be sure to try and shut you up if you made a
+row&mdash;any thief would, if he wasn't such a coward as that one. But I
+wouldn't think about it if I were you, or you'll be fancying
+things, just as I did."</p>
+
+<p>In spite of which advice Nesta did suffer a few qualms at night, if
+she happened to wake in the dark; but sleeping with her mother was
+comforting, and the panics never lasted long.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>Lessons began again, and the days passed in their usual routine,
+but with the added joy of something to look forward to in the
+arrival of the new aunt.</p>
+
+<p>It was a nightly annoyance to Peter that he was put to bed at the
+same time as Sandy Robertson, while the twins stayed up to late
+dinner. Becky went to bed still earlier, and was generally fast
+asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.</p>
+
+<p>"You might shoot pistols in the room after Becky is asleep," was a
+favourite saying, "and you wouldn't wake her."</p>
+
+<p>Which statement she almost verified the night Eustace caused such
+an excitement; she really did not wake until the second shot was
+fired.</p>
+
+<p>But Peter was not a heavy sleeper. Moreover, he had heard something
+about the black-fellow stories too. Sandy Robertson gave him a good
+deal of information as they played together, and the little fellow
+got into a thoroughly nervous state.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban often sat with him till he was asleep, and then left a
+shaded light burning both in his room and her own.</p>
+
+<p>It did not startle her very much one night as she sat at dinner
+with the twins to see Peter tear into the room yelling for her at
+the top of his voice. She guessed he had awakened from a dream, and
+was just frightened at finding himself alone with no one but Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang into her arms and lay there trembling, panting only
+"Mother&mdash;mother&mdash;mother," over and over again.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sonny, what is it?" said his mother soothingly, stroking
+back his hair from his forehead.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>"O mummie," he gasped, "there's something moving in your room. I
+heard it."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace and Nesta started, and exchanged frightened glances. But
+Mrs. Orban answered quite calmly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say, darling. It is probably Mary turning down the beds."</p>
+
+<p>She rose as she spoke and went towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't, mummie! don't go," Peter pleaded eagerly; "perhaps it's
+a black-fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense, darling," Mrs. Orban said. "You can stay here with
+Eustace and Nesta if you like, but of course I must go and see what
+the noise was."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going with mother," said Eustace sturdily.</p>
+
+<p>"So am I," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll all go," said Mrs. Orban cheerily; "and I am quite sure Mary
+will think us mad when she sees us."</p>
+
+<p>So down the passage they went, Peter trembling and clinging to his
+mother. Straight into Mrs. Orban's room they all trooped, and of
+course, when they got there, there was no one to be seen&mdash;not even
+Mary turning down the beds.</p>
+
+<p>On they went into the boys' room, and all was peaceful there; for
+Peter had been too frightened to yell till he reached the
+dining-room, and Sandy had not been roused.</p>
+
+<p>"There, you see," said Mrs. Orban; "what did I tell you? There are
+far too many of us in the house now for any one to dare to come."</p>
+
+<p>She went on into the kitchen still holding Peter, and Mary and Kate
+certainly did look surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Master Peter has been having a nightmare," Mrs. Orban explained,
+"and I want to reassure him. Were you in my room just now, Mary?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>"No, ma'am," Mary said; "I haven't been there since dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, then, he must have been dreaming," Mrs. Orban said,
+still in the same cheery way. "We will just go all through the
+house and show him everything is all right, and then I will sit by
+him till he gets to sleep again."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace took a lantern, and on they all went right through the
+house, very naturally finding no one. Robertson, who was smoking on
+the veranda, declared that no one had been up or down the steps
+since he had been out, and Mrs. Robertson, who was in her bedroom
+lulling the baby to sleep, said no one had been that way either.</p>
+
+<p>After all of which Eustace and Nesta began to breathe freely; but,
+to tell the truth, at first they had both been a good deal scared
+by Peter's announcement. They guessed their mother was just making
+all this show of bravery for Peter's and their sakes, for another
+visit from the thief was not at all unlikely.</p>
+
+<p>But when Robertson laughed at the notion of any one having been
+able to pass him unseen where he stood near the veranda steps, when
+every nook and cranny had been looked into and no one was
+forthcoming to prove Peter's tale, every one was certain he had had
+a bad dream.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a little silly," Nesta said bracingly. "Of course there
+are always noises in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"But this was a big noise," Peter objected; "something banged."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you say that before?" said Eustace with superiority;
+then added, out of the vastness of his recent experience, "Nobody
+ever bangs when they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> want to rob a house; they try to be as silent
+as mice."</p>
+
+<p>"Besides," said Nesta, "there is nothing for any one to steal now,
+since we keep all our things hidden away."</p>
+
+<p>This was a rule Mrs. Orban had made&mdash;that everything of value
+must be put away under lock and key. She had no fancy to be
+perpetually paying away rewards for recovered goods. She
+believed Sinkum Fung to be quite capable of setting people
+to do these little pilferings just in order to obtain the
+rewards. Disagreeable as was the idea, it frightened her far
+less than the thought of genuine black-fellows lurking about
+the place; they were really dangerous, cruel, and lawless.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban took Peter back with her into the dining-room, and he
+sat cuddled up on her knee while she finished dinner.</p>
+
+<p>They were all sitting listening to just one "good-night" story
+before going to bed, when Mary came into the room, gave a
+frightened glance round, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Lor', ma'am, haven't you got Miss Becky here? I made sure you
+had."</p>
+
+<p>Every one stared at Mary, and thought she looked rather white and
+queer.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you, Mary?" asked Mrs. Orban rather hurriedly. "Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, ma'am," said Mary in an unsteady voice, "because she isn't
+in her bed."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban sprang to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Not in her bed?" she exclaimed. "My good woman, what do you
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>Setting Peter down on the ground, she turned swiftly and left the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"I just went in to turn down the beds," explained Mary to the twins
+as they hurriedly followed, "and went over to Miss Becky's corner
+to take a look at her, and she wasn't there. I didn't stop a
+minute, I was so took aback, but came straight off to see if maybe
+she was in the dining-room. You might have knocked me down with a
+feather when I saw she wasn't."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban rushed to Becky's bed. She was standing beside it as if
+petrified when the others entered. The bed was empty. This was no
+dream. Becky really and truly was not there.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span><a name="viii" id="viii"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br />
+
+<small>THE WITCH.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">Of course Peter's story jumped to every one's mind, and with a
+horrified cry Mrs. Orban fell forward, fainting, on to the empty
+bed.</p>
+
+<p>The recent hunt through the house had been, as Eustace guessed, a
+greater strain than she had allowed any one to see; she could not
+be certain that they were on a wild-goose chase. This, coming on
+the top of it, was just too much for her.</p>
+
+<p>Instances of children being stolen had from time to time come to
+her knowledge&mdash;stories of little ones silently, mysteriously
+disappearing and never being heard of again. The twins had heard
+the same from the servants, among other disturbing stories. This
+last terrible event seemed just to prove that the first visitor had
+been no mere plantation hand; the stealing of a baby was more like
+the work of the native blacks.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta wrung her hands and wept. Eustace dashed away to fetch
+Robertson. Mary lost her head completely, and nobody thought of
+trying to restore poor Mrs. Orban to consciousness till motherly
+little Mrs. Robertson appeared on the scene.</p>
+
+<p>Robertson stood in the middle of the room looking the picture of
+bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>"This beats everything," he said in an awed voice.</p>
+
+<p>Every one was really too terrified to make a noise. Puzzled glances
+were exchanged, questions whispered, and Robertson said again,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"This beats everything! It doesn't seem possible, unless she has
+been spirited away; for how could any one pass me on those steps
+without my seeing them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Could he have swarmed one of the posts?" Eustace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't say he could," Robertson replied, "but it looks as if
+he did. How could a man swarm a post with a sleeping child in his
+arms?"</p>
+
+<p>"Black-fellows are dreadfully clever," said Kate.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush," said Mrs. Robertson, "the poor lady is coming to herself.
+Don't let her hear you talking like that. Oh dear, how will she
+bear it?"</p>
+
+<p>The poor woman's eyes were full of tears. She knew well enough what
+a mother's feelings would be under such awful circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>"Every corner of the house was searched," said Robertson
+meditatively.</p>
+
+<p>"We didn't look under the beds," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"Silly," said Eustace. "As if a black-fellow would have stopped to
+be looked for under a bed."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;that's no go," said Robertson; and just at that moment there
+came such a strange sound from under the very bed they were
+standing by that every one jumped&mdash;a sound that brought Mrs. Orban
+back to her senses far quicker than any of good Mrs. Robertson's
+restoratives, for it was the voice of Becky herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Good gracious!" exclaimed all the women, after the first shock of
+surprise was over.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>"My patience," said Robertson, and down they all went on their
+hands and knees like a party of kangaroos, peering under the bed.</p>
+
+<p>There lay Becky, rosy with sleep, safe and sound, with puckered
+face and plaintive voice, evidently wondering what all the fuss was
+about.</p>
+
+<p>They hauled her from under the bed, and placed her on her mother's
+knee, where she sat blinking at the light like a young owl.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said Nesta, "she must have tumbled out of bed in her sleep,
+and rolled over underneath."</p>
+
+<p>"So she must," agreed every one.</p>
+
+<p>"That was the noise Peter heard," Eustace said.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it was," said every one except Mrs. Orban; and she said,
+as she bent her face over the baby in her arms,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you dreadful children! Have you a conspiracy amongst you to
+frighten me out of my wits? Or are you trying to harden my nerves?
+I begin to wish your father would come home."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed a little, and it sounded much more like sobbing. So
+kind Mrs. Robertson hurried every one off to bed, because she said
+Mrs. Orban must be quite worn out.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was so upset by his mother's words that he could not get to
+sleep for hours. They seemed to hold a reproach specially for
+himself&mdash;for had he not been the first to terrify his mother? It
+was not a good record to present to his father; and he had meant to
+be such a stand-by and comfort. With all his heart he echoed Mrs.
+Orban's wish. He had dreaded his father's going away; he longed for
+his return.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>The very next day the wish was fulfilled. News came up the hill
+that the plantation schooner had been sighted the evening before;
+she was in the bay. By midday the travellers had arrived, and the
+climax of the great excitement was reached.</p>
+
+<p>Every one had wondered a hundred times and more what that first
+greeting would be like&mdash;what words would be said. As a matter of
+fact, when the time really came, nobody said anything at all except
+Mr. Orban, who exclaimed when he caught sight of his wife,
+"Darling, what is the matter? You are looking ill."</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Orban stopped him with the promise to tell him everything
+later on. Meanwhile she nearly wept for joy over the meeting with
+Aunt Dorothy, and was far too happy to remember or speak of the
+distresses of the past week or so.</p>
+
+<p>The children hung back shyly and stared at the new-comer&mdash;a tall,
+slender girl, dressed, Nesta afterwards commented, just like a
+person in a story book, so dainty was she.</p>
+
+<p>Dorothy Chase was not at all like Mrs. Orban. She was certainly
+pretty, but the most remarkable thing about her was her expression,
+so vivacious was it, so keenly interested and alert. She was a
+great contrast to the people amongst whom she had come, for
+tropical heat saps a good deal of the enthusiasm of life out of
+people&mdash;even the children were subject to lassitude.</p>
+
+<p>They looked a quiet enough set as Miss Chase cast a quick searching
+glance around her after greeting her sister, and there flashed
+through her mind a contrast between them and the nephew and niece
+she had left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> but a few weeks ago in England&mdash;the children of
+another sister, orphans who lived with their grandparents in the
+old home.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, chicks," said Aunt Dorothy, with a laugh, "who is going to
+speak to me first?"</p>
+
+<p>They were standing, all in an untidy row, Becky, with one finger in
+her mouth, hanging on to Nesta's skirt.</p>
+
+<p>To the new-comer they looked pasty-faced, spiritless beings. The
+prints that the girls were dressed in were rather washed out; Peter
+had outgrown his suit. They were ill-clad, shy, and awkward.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace flushed with an uncomfortable feeling that they were not
+behaving very courteously, and came forward the instant Miss Chase
+spoke. Nesta followed, and then Peter, all as stiff as pokers in
+their shyness. But Becky Miss Chase picked up with a playful little
+shake, and kissed her heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you dear, funny wee soul," she said, "how glad I am to see
+you. I've brought out a Kodak and I've promised to take all your
+photos almost every other day, for certainly no one at home could
+guess the least little bit what you are like."</p>
+
+<p>Becky did not resent the unceremonious treatment at all, but took
+it quite placidly in her own particular way. This gave Peter
+confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you brought lots of boxes?" he asked, with an interested
+stare up into his young aunt's face.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace pulled his sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"Shut up," he whispered. "Don't ask questions; it's rude."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace felt uncomfortable. He knew quite well whither his small
+brother's questions were trending.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> Peter was wondering what would
+be in those boxes for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"A good many," answered Miss Chase; but she was allowed time to say
+no more, because she was hurried into the house to rest and
+refresh.</p>
+
+<p>At tea the children sat round as solemn as owls and listened to all
+the questions and answers about the home folk. They picked up
+scraps of information most interesting to themselves, especially
+about the English cousins, Herbert, who was sixteen, and Brenda,
+who was a month or so older than the twins. From time to time they
+had heard of these cousins in letters, but it made them seem much
+more real when they were talked about by some one who had just come
+away from them.</p>
+
+<p>"Herbert is a very big fellow," Miss Chase said. "He is doing
+famously at Winchester."</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky chap," thought Eustace, who never read a school story
+without longing to go to a big English school.</p>
+
+<p>"And what about Brenda?" questioned Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall see a photo that was taken of her the other day," was
+the answer. "Most people think her very pretty."</p>
+
+<p>"Does she go to school too?" said Mrs. Orban, asking the very
+question Nesta was bursting to put.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, Brenda is a regular schoolgirl. You see it would be so
+lonely for her to have lessons at home with a governess."</p>
+
+<p>"Lucky girl," thought Nesta, and sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"She was quite green with envy when she heard I was coming out
+here," Miss Chase said, "and threatened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> to have all sorts of
+illnesses, necessitating change of air for recovery, so that she
+might come with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I wish she had," Nesta said impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think her grannie would agree with you," laughed Miss
+Chase. "She can hardly bear to part with her every term. If you
+want to see her, I think your best plan is to have an illness
+yourself, and let me take you back with me for change of air."</p>
+
+<p>"That would be better and better," Nesta exclaimed, "only I should
+want mother and every one else to come too."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why not?" asked Miss Chase gaily. "Let's make up a party and
+all go back together. I am only allowed to stay two months, and
+then I must be off again. I will willingly pack you all up in my
+boxes and take you with me."</p>
+
+<p>"What did I tell you?" said a deep voice from the window, and there
+stood Bob Cochrane on the veranda. "I said she would bewitch you
+and spirit you all away."</p>
+
+<p>"You did, you did," said Peter, who had been drinking in every
+word; "you said you wouldn't like her."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, come, no tales out of school," said Bob, as he crossed the
+threshold and came forward to be introduced; "you are giving me a
+bad start, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry to have made such a bad impression at the outset," Miss
+Chase responded merrily as she shook hands. "Would it appease you
+at all if I offered to pack you with the rest?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't if I were you, Dorothy," said Mr. Orban. "He would take
+such a fearful amount of room, even if you doubled him up."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>Miss Chase smiled as she eyed the great big fellow.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't come if you paid me," Bob said lightly. "They tell me
+it is a toss up whether the climate or the people freeze you up
+most in England."</p>
+
+<p>"Treason, treason, Bob," said Mrs. Orban. "Remember we are
+English."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you have mellowed in the sunshine," Bob said
+imperturbably. "Children, don't you listen to a good word about
+England; don't you let yourselves be spirited away by bad fairies,
+or you'll regret it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's high treason," shouted Eustace. "England is our country. Off
+with his head."</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly Miss Chase saw what her nephews and nieces really
+were like.</p>
+
+<p>"He has got to be punished," Nesta sang out.</p>
+
+<p>Peter and Becky made a simultaneous dive at the unfortunate Bob,
+who had begun whistling with a great show of unconcern.</p>
+
+<p>"What's his punishment to be?" demanded Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban thought a minute while Peter suggested pommelling, and
+Nesta mentioned a few tortures in the way of old-fashioned
+forfeits.</p>
+
+<p>"It's too hot for violent exercise," said Bob, when Nesta requested
+him to walk round the room three times on his head. "I shall go
+home to mother if I am ill-used."</p>
+
+<p>"Have some tea, Bob," said Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," cried the bullying trio, "not till he has paid his
+penalty for high treason."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Mrs. Orban gently, "suppose you fetch the banjo and
+make him sing for his tea."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>"Good! Good!" was the immediate acclamation.</p>
+
+<p>Bob sat down resignedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think a crueller sentence could have been passed," he said
+with a mock groan.</p>
+
+<p>"Between ourselves," said Mrs. Orban, as the children rushed into
+the drawing-room to fetch the banjo, "there is no tea in the pot,
+and you may as well sing till the kettle is boiling."</p>
+
+<p>Bob took the banjo with the air of a martyr and tuned it skilfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I choose my own song," he said, struck a few chords, and began, in
+his really beautiful voice,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">"Dey told us darkies right away out west</span><br />
+<span class="i0">In England men make der money much de best,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">And I believed dat ebry word was true,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">So dat is why I come along wid you.</span><br />
+<span class="i6">Oho you and de banjo."</span><br />
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh, oh," interrupted the children, "more treason! If you sing
+that song you will have to do another as well."</p>
+
+<p>"You can't hang a man after his head is cut off," said Bob
+stolidly, and went on,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">"But now we're here, why, de money doesn't grow,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">And we ain't got nuffin' but de old banjo:</span><br />
+<span class="i0">So we rove the streets if de wedder's wet or dry,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Till my heart most breaks and der's water in your eye.</span><br />
+<span class="i6">Oho you and de banjo."</span><br />
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>"Most pathetic," said Miss Chase, with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
+"I think I begin to see where Mr. Cochrane gets his revolutionary
+sentiments from."</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">"Then in sleep at night de nigger dreams ob home,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Where de sun really shines and de frosts nebber come,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Where we'd plenty to eat, and a little hut of logs,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">And we hadn't got to beg for our bread like de dogs.</span><br />
+<span class="i6">Oho you and de banjo."</span><br />
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Bob's voice became more and more plaintive; he sat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> in a drooping
+attitude with his head on one side as he finished,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">"But it ain't no good all dis singin' out of tune,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">For we can't get warm, tho' they say it's hot for June;</span><br />
+<span class="i0">It's certain for darkies dis is not de place,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Where eben de sun am ashamed to show his face.</span><br />
+<span class="i6">Oho you and de banjo."</span><br />
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>"So that is your opinion of England, is it?" asked Miss Chase.
+"Well, I am not surprised you don't want to come, then."</p>
+
+<p>"But of course it is all stuff, and nothing but a silly old darkie
+song," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"You wait till you get there, young man," said Bob, still with an
+air of mock gloom about him; "you'll remember my warning then. It
+is so cold in England the natives have their windows glued in to
+keep out the air, and they have front doors as thick as walls, all
+studded with nails and brass knockers."</p>
+
+<p>"But what are the brass knockers for?" asked Nesta. "They wouldn't
+keep you warm."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," was the answer; "the brass knockers are for the
+purpose of waking the people inside the house, who are always
+asleep with the cold&mdash;like dormice."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," demanded Eustace, "do you think he ought to have any tea
+after that? He hasn't done penance, and he isn't a bit sorry. He is
+making it worse and worse."</p>
+
+<p>"I think, darling, as he is a guest he must have his tea," Mrs.
+Orban said; "but I will send a note by him to his mother to say he
+has not been good."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going home to-night&mdash;so there," said Bob complacently;
+"I'm going to sleep in a hammock on the veranda."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>"Oh, jolly!" exclaimed every one, and there was a chorus of, "We
+can stay up late, can't we, just for to-night&mdash;Aunt Dorothy's first
+night?"</p>
+
+<p>But Aunt Dorothy did not allow the compliment to deceive her. Not
+for her but for Bob Cochrane did the young people want to stay up
+later. He was certainly a great favourite.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span><a name="ix" id="ix"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br />
+
+<small>A RIDERLESS HORSE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">It was a delightfully merry evening. Bob had to re-do his
+punishment and sing several songs, and then he struck.</p>
+
+<p>"I am quite sure Miss Chase sings," he declared. "It's her turn
+now. Witches ought to be punished even more severely than
+traitors."</p>
+
+<p>She made no demur, but sat down to the piano and began to sing. But
+in the middle of her song such a noise began over her head that she
+dropped her hands laughingly, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"How can I sing with that wretched electric bell going on all the
+time?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r," sounded shrilly through the room,
+louder and louder.</p>
+
+<p>"Electric bell?" exclaimed the children with blank faces.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you dear new chum," said Mr. Orban, bursting into peals of
+laughter, accompanied by Bob, "that isn't an electric bell; it's a
+cicada."</p>
+
+<p>"A cicada!" repeated Miss Chase.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; a kind of grasshopper, or cricket, you know," Mrs. Orban
+explained, looking much amused. "He is up there in the roof. I am
+afraid you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> will have to stop, for as long as you go on so will
+he."</p>
+
+<p>"How very ill-mannered of him," said Miss Chase.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's play something instead," said Peter, who was getting sleepy,
+but would not own it.</p>
+
+<p>He was not really fond of music&mdash;Bob's comic songs excepted.</p>
+
+<p>The game was begun, and going merrily, when suddenly there rose on
+the night air such an appalling howl that Miss Chase started and
+turned pale. To her astonishment, when she looked round the table,
+she found that no one but herself was at all disturbed by the
+sound.</p>
+
+<p>"You to play, I believe, Miss Chase," said Bob, who sat opposite
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She put down her card, and at that moment the agonized cry came
+again, apparently from immediately under the veranda. Dorothy
+gripped her hands tightly together, and again looked round on the
+unmoved faces. Again the cry resounded.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely," she said, looking appealingly at Bob, "there is something
+or some one in dreadful pain outside."</p>
+
+<p>Bob laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you seemed upset, but I didn't like to mention it," he
+said. "That's nothing but a dingo howling. There'll be a whole pack
+of them at it presently, I dare say. I'll go out and disperse them
+as soon as the game is over."</p>
+
+<p>"What is a dingo?" inquired Miss Chase.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you know that, Aunt Dorothy?" asked Peter in tones of
+contemptuous astonishment. "Well, it's the commonest thing here."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>"Peter," said Bob gravely, "do you know what a top hat and a frock
+coat are like?"</p>
+
+<p>Peter shook his head in bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you?" said Bob, mimicking the small boy's tone. "Well,
+they're the commonest things in England. I am surprised at your
+ignorance!"</p>
+
+<p>Peter reddened.</p>
+
+<p>"But I've never seen them," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Nor has Miss Chase ever seen a dingo," said Bob calmly.&mdash;"It is
+the wild dog of the Bush, Miss Chase. They come prowling round the
+house at night, looking for food."</p>
+
+<p>The howling grew worse and worse. Bob quietly sauntered out on to
+the veranda. There were a few shots, and the noise changed to yelps
+as the dingoes scurried in terror down the hill.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be worried if you hear them in the distance most of the
+night," said Mrs. Orban. "I am afraid it will take you some time to
+get used to our noisy hours of darkness."</p>
+
+<p>When Miss Chase tried to settle down to sleep she remembered these
+words, and it seemed superfluous to her that she should have been
+wished "good-night" by every one. A good night was impossible. The
+dingoes howled persistently in the woods below, and quite close
+there was the incessant "croak-croak-croak-croak" of tree-frogs,
+together with many other inexplicable and weird noises.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta slept placidly through it all; but not till there came a lull
+just an hour or so before dawn did the weary stranger drop into
+oblivion.</p>
+
+<p>It did not seem to her she had been asleep five minutes, and there
+was only the faintest glimmer of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> light in her room, when she was
+awakened by something new. Just under her window there was a
+strident laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha-ha!" Then another, "Ha-ha-ha!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase listened in bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"What extraordinary people," she thought, glancing enviously at the
+undisturbed Nesta. "Who on earth can be out at this time?"</p>
+
+<p>She supposed that it must be some of the plantation hands prowling
+about outside; but she wondered at her brother-in-law allowing them
+to behave in such a tiresome way when people were wanting to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha! ha-ha!" jeered the voice outside, as if mocking at her
+annoyance. Then followed a chorus of chuckles, and Miss Chase sat
+up in bed, and strained her ears to catch the joke, if possible.
+But no words reached her. There was a little pause as if some one
+might be speaking, and then another burst of delighted chuckles, so
+very funny that they were quite infectious, and Miss Chase smiled
+in spite of herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha! ha-ha! ha-ha-ha-ha!" laughed the voices. Now certainly
+there were more than one.</p>
+
+<p>"This is too ridiculous," thought Miss Chase, beginning to chuckle
+softly to herself. "What can they be saying or doing out there?"</p>
+
+<p>At last the hilarity became so boisterous that her curiosity got
+the better of her, and slipping on a wrapper she opened the window
+and crept out on to the veranda.</p>
+
+<p>To her surprise there was no one to be seen&mdash;not a soul was about
+either on the veranda or below,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> though she leant right over, and
+strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of these queer people.</p>
+
+<p>It was comparatively deliciously cool outside, the grayness before
+dawn a pleasant contrast to the tropical glare that was positively
+hurtful to the new-comer's eyes. Going to the corner of the
+veranda, she gazed away and away towards the now deep gray sea,
+lying like a bath of mist beyond the dense black of the trees in
+the valley.</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer, unreal world it seems," she was thinking, "and yet
+to little Peter this is all reality, and England nothing but a
+dream."</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha!" said a voice from immediately below, so loudly as to sound
+almost insulting.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase jumped, looked about in astonishment&mdash;and saw no one.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha! ha-ha-ha!" repeated the mocker.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if he sees me, and is laughing at me now?" thought the
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>She gave a little shiver. It was not a very pleasant sensation to
+feel herself spied upon by an unseen watcher, and she began to beat
+a hasty retreat towards her own window again.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha!" laughed the unseen one, with such a note of triumph that
+now she was certain the humour was at her expense. It annoyed her,
+and at the same time it rather frightened her. Was it possibly a
+madman?&mdash;for assuredly the chuckles became madder and madder as
+they increased. Besides which, what sane person would be out of bed
+and giggling at such an hour? The thought of a lunatic or two at
+large lurking round the house was discomforting indeed. In England,
+with fast-barred doors and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> windows that are supposed to be
+unassailable, it would not be pleasant; but here&mdash;where what might
+be called the "front door" was nothing but the flimsiest of French
+windows, the windows themselves utterly powerless to keep any one
+out&mdash;the English girl found this new suspicion particularly
+disagreeable. She wondered whether she ought not to go and rouse
+Mr. Orban. Perhaps he ought to be warned, she reflected, so as to
+be ready in case these maniacs burst into the house, intent on the
+mischief they were so evidently gloating over in anticipation.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I knew what to do," she thought in great agitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha-ha! ha-ha-ha-ha!" responded the laughers with maniacal glee.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Aunt Dorothy," exclaimed Nesta, as Miss Chase entered the
+room in a hurry, "what have you been doing?"</p>
+
+<p>Nesta was sitting up in bed. She had evidently awakened, and
+discovering her aunt's absence, was wondering about it. It
+comforted Miss Chase to have some one to speak to; but, determined
+not to frighten the child, she said as steadily as she could,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I was only trying to find out what those people are laughing at
+out there. It seems such a strange time to be so amused. I suppose
+they must be some of the coolies going to work."</p>
+
+<p>"People!" repeated Nesta blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;listen!" said Miss Chase; and as another burst of thick-toned
+mirth reached them, "There&mdash;don't you hear that?"</p>
+
+<p>Nesta rolled down into her pillow, and fairly shouted into it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>"What is the matter with the child?" asked Miss Chase in
+bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"People!" gasped Nesta, as soon as she had any voice to speak with.
+"Those aren't people; they're birds!"</p>
+
+<p>"Birds!" said Miss Chase. "Impossible. You must be asleep still, or
+you didn't hear what I said."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I did," Nesta replied. "You mean those funny fat chuckles and
+ha-ha's? Well, those are birds&mdash;the laughing jackasses. I can show
+them to you in a minute."</p>
+
+<p>Out they both went on to the veranda, and in the fast-increasing
+light Nesta pointed out some trees below, on which sat groups of
+brightly-hued birds, not unlike kingfishers in appearance, but very
+much larger. They had without doubt the funniest faces Miss Chase
+had ever seen. Not only did they laugh aloud&mdash;they positively
+grinned, so comic was the expression of their wide beaks. She
+laughed herself till the tears ran down her cheeks, and Nesta put
+her head down on the veranda railing and wept with laughter too.</p>
+
+<p>The sun was up now, there being practically no twilight either
+before sunrise or after sunset in North Queensland. The glory of
+the scene sobered Miss Chase, and she stood watching.</p>
+
+<p>The glee of the birds was explained. They sat and laughed as they
+watched for their prey, then pounced down upon the unwary locusts
+or lizards they had marked, and returning to the tree, sat
+chuckling triumphantly over the capture before eating.</p>
+
+<p>"It is really rather horrid of them, isn't it?" said Miss Chase.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>But Nesta did not sympathize.</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody minds," she said, "especially about locusts being
+eaten&mdash;nasty things. When there is a plague of them it means ruin
+to father; they destroy every blade of sugar-cane."</p>
+
+<p>Over the tree-tops in the valley below appeared a cloud of
+shimmering whiteness, moving swiftly round the base of the hill.</p>
+
+<p>"What is that?" asked Miss Chase curiously.</p>
+
+<p>"White cockatoos," said Nesta, with a yawn; "they're changing their
+feeding-ground&mdash;white cockatoos with bright yellow crests. But, I
+say, don't you think you had better go back to bed? You're looking
+awfully tired."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that one for me and two for yourself?" said Miss Chase lightly.
+"Personally, I would rather dress and go for a walk in the wood
+down there."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you had better," Nesta said, shaking her head
+doubtfully. "We aren't allowed to go there alone. It is awfully
+easy to get lost; and then there are snakes and things. You might
+get into a mangrove swamp too&mdash;or you might meet black-fellows."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, really," laughed Miss Chase, leading the way back to bed,
+"you don't give a very flattering description. Why, at home I'm
+often up at sunrise, out all by myself in the woods. You don't even
+meet poachers, for they take good care not to be seen."</p>
+
+<p>"I think England must be splendid," sighed Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if you would really think so," Miss Chase responded. "Mr.
+Cochrane gave you a very dismal picture of it, remember."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>"Oh, but Bob has never been there. Besides, he was only
+exaggerating, because he doesn't want us to go, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase gave such a graphic account at breakfast of her early
+morning experiences that every one at the table shouted with
+laughter. The jackasses were alluded to ever after as Aunt
+Dorothy's lunatics.</p>
+
+<p>"To talk of serious things," said Mr. Orban, half way through the
+meal, "we shall have to be fearfully careful with the water. The
+second tank is almost empty, and I doubt its lasting till the rains
+come."</p>
+
+<p>"That's bad," said Bob.</p>
+
+<p>"Things are bad," said Mr. Orban. "I hope the rains will hurry up,
+or we shall have the cane catching fire. We should lose every bit
+of the crop if that happened."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me," said Miss Chase, "you seem to have fearful difficulties
+to contend with. Nesta was talking about locusts only this
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Locusts will destroy the young crop," said Mr. Orban. "If it
+escapes them, fire may destroy the old. Too much rain and too
+little do equal damage. We've had a good many unprosperous years,
+with one thing and another."</p>
+
+<p>"It looks grand burning," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"A sheet of flame, and your heart in the middle of it, never seems
+very grand to the man whose year's work and hope is being burnt
+under his very nose," said Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>The children had seldom seen their father look as worried as he did
+then. It seemed to Eustace there was trouble in the air.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>"Can't you put out a fire in the cane once it begins?" asked Miss
+Chase with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"No," was the answer; "you can only try to stop it spreading by
+cutting as wide a path as possible between the burning part and the
+sound. It takes all hands to do it, though, and some of the coolies
+can't be got to work for love or money. It is a nasty business when
+it happens."</p>
+
+<p>Bob started off home early; not quite so early as he had meant to,
+because when his horse was brought round ready saddled, he found it
+had lamed itself somehow in the stable. He therefore borrowed a
+horse from Mr. Orban, and left his own to rest for a day or two.</p>
+
+<p>Generally when Bob took his departure after a particularly jolly
+time there was a good deal of depression about. But to-day, with
+the arrival of Aunt Dorothy's boxes up the hill, low spirits
+disappeared as if by magic.</p>
+
+<p>The contents of those boxes kept every one occupied the whole day.
+What with the excitement and curiosity over the many presents&mdash;the
+clothes, useful things, and games stowed quaintly into the
+packing-cases together; what with every one's amusement over Miss
+Chase's frequent astonishment at the commonest things of their
+everyday life, time slipped cheerily away towards evening. The
+children never remembered such happiness in their quiet existence
+before, and Miss Chase felt half inclined to weep when she saw what
+simple things were joys to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Herbert and Brenda would laugh at them if they saw them," she
+thought gravely.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>Brenda's photograph was very much admired. She was a beautiful girl
+indeed, with a proudly-carried head, and just the suspicion of a
+scornful curve to her lips.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta suppressed a sigh as she looked at her cousin's clothes, for
+Nesta loved pretty things. She let out little bursts of admiration
+that amused her aunt considerably.</p>
+
+<p>"She looks a regular angel," Nesta said. "I never saw any one so
+lovely. Isn't she simply perfect, Aunt Dorothy?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is a very nice girl," was all Miss Chase could be brought to
+admit.</p>
+
+<p>"And she goes to school," murmured Nesta, gazing lingeringly at the
+lucky girl, who seemed to have everything heart could desire. "I
+just want to see her more than everything in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you will some day," said Miss Chase, wondering silently
+how much of the compliment Brenda would return could she see a
+photograph of this rough-headed, ill-dressed little cousin of hers;
+for Brenda was particular&mdash;at least over her friends at school.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace gazed silently at the portrait of Herbert. He had no word
+to say about the immaculately-dressed English boy, photographed in
+his best suit, his highest collar, and pet tie. At least he made no
+public comment; but when Nesta bothered him later for an opinion,
+he said shortly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"He looks an ass."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he doesn't," Nesta said warmly, ready to admire everything
+English.</p>
+
+<p>"I think so," Eustace said imperturbably.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>"Then you're a silly, jealous boy," said Nesta in fiery
+championship.</p>
+
+<p>"Who wants to have clothes like Brenda?" was the instant retort,
+"and go to school like Brenda, and be just like Brenda? But I'm
+certain I don't want to look like Herbert anyway. He looks a
+stuck-up ass."</p>
+
+<p>"He&mdash;he looks like a gentleman," spluttered Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut up," said Eustace. "Can't a gentleman look an ass? Who is
+that riding up the hill?"</p>
+
+<p>His quick ears had caught the sound of hoofs, and glad of a pretext
+to change the subject he went and leant over the balcony.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta was at his side with a pounce.</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa!" he shouted a few seconds later; "here is something
+queer."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, Eustace?" called his mother from within; and soon
+every one was on the veranda, staring eagerly down the hill.</p>
+
+<p>Coming up at a leisurely trot was a riderless horse&mdash;saddled,
+bridled, but alone.</p>
+
+<p>The watchful party waited in breathless astonishment till it was
+close to the house. Then Eustace said sharply,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, it's the horse Bob went away on this morning! There's been
+some accident."</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span><a name="x" id="x"></a>CHAPTER X.<br />
+
+<small>A VOICE FROM THE SCRUB.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">There could be no doubt about it, and every one stared blankly
+after the beautiful big creature as it passed on, round the house
+towards its own stable.</p>
+
+<p>"What can have happened?" Mrs. Orban exclaimed. "Bob is such a
+splendid rider."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he can't have been thrown, of course," Eustace said, with an
+emphasis meant to impress Aunt Dorothy.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it's black-fellows," said Nesta shakily.</p>
+
+<p>"Stupid," said Eustace sharply, "Bob can shoot straighter than any
+one I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Instead of wrangling over possibilities, we ought to be doing
+something," said Mrs. Orban. "Eustace, you had better fetch that
+horse and ride down to father at once. Perhaps he will guess what
+it means."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was off like an arrow from a bow, and presently appeared
+below the veranda, sitting erect and fearless, riding the returned
+horse.</p>
+
+<p>He looked such a scrap perched up there that Miss Chase had a
+sudden qualm as to his safety.</p>
+
+<p>"Will he be all right going down alone?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"All right?" questioned Mrs. Orban, looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I mean, isn't it rather a risk for him?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>"Oh goody, no!" Nesta answered with a laugh. "Why, Eustace can ride
+anything; he has ridden ever since he was six."</p>
+
+<p>"Father will want to see the horse," Mrs. Orban said. "Perhaps it
+has only run away from the Highlands before it was stabled. But I
+can't think what it has been doing in the interval, or why Bob has
+not sent over to inquire. He ought to have got home by nine at
+latest."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban was as puzzled as every one else when he saw the horse.
+He examined it carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so far as I can see, Bolter has not been running away," he
+said thoughtfully. "He has not been overheated, and he is as fresh
+as paint. I should say he has had some quiet hours of grazing. But
+where Bob is remains a mystery. I must ride over to the Highlands
+at once and find out if he is there."</p>
+
+<p>"O father, can I come too?" Eustace cried eagerly. "I could ride
+Bolter, and I shall never be happy till I know Bob is all right."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban eyed the boy kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you can come," he said. "It will scare Mrs. Cochrane less
+perhaps, and look more casual if I have you with me."</p>
+
+<p>Away they went at a quick trot along the rough road leading to the
+wood known as Palm Tree Scrub. Eustace knew every inch of the way,
+and generally loved to get into the cool and shade under the
+feathery palms. But to-day he glanced left and right, looking for
+he knew not what with sickening anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>The road, nothing but a cart-track, skirted a mangrove swamp
+awhile.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>"He can't have got in there," said Eustace, with a nod towards the
+thickly growing stems of ti-trees rearing up from long coarse
+grass.</p>
+
+<p>There was a mysterious darkness in the depths of the woods that
+somehow chilled the boy to-day.</p>
+
+<p>"What should he get into a rank place like that for?" said Mr.
+Orban bracingly.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time he whipped up his horse and hurried forward. He
+was regretting having brought Eustace. A mangrove swamp is an
+unhealthy spot at the best of times, productive of a great deal of
+malarial fever; it would be nightfall, he reflected, before they
+got back, and the mist would be rising.</p>
+
+<p>Away and away out into the open the pair galloped, and came to the
+side of the creek&mdash;the bend in the river through which the horses
+had to wade. The water was low just now. There were times when such
+floods roared over this spot that the man carrying the mails had
+been known to be swept away, horse and all, and was never heard of
+again.</p>
+
+<p>At the other side the horses plunged into grass as high as their
+flanks&mdash;a flat, uninteresting tract of land, bare of trees except
+where here and there a single palm tree arose. But beyond that the
+ground rose suddenly from the banks of this bend of the river. On
+the summit of a high bank, luxuriantly surrounded by tropical
+foliage of all sorts, was Bob Cochrane's home.</p>
+
+<p>It was a relief to Mr. Orban to find only Mr. Cochrane on the lower
+veranda. He was a short, broad, sandy-haired man with a rough
+appearance, and as kind a heart as could be found in the colony,
+which is saying a great deal.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>"Good-evening, Cochrane," said Mr. Orban casually, as he reined in
+his horse. "Is Bob at home?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace listened for the answer with a thumping heart, and he saw a
+slight look of surprise flit across Mr. Cochrane's face as he
+replied slowly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Bob? No. I thought he was over at your place. He hasn't turned up
+here to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he was with us," Mr. Orban said, trying hard to keep up the
+careless tone, "but he started off this morning&mdash;I thought for
+home."</p>
+
+<p>"Not he," said Mr. Cochrane; "at least he hasn't arrived. Perhaps
+he had to come round by somewhere else&mdash;Gairloch or one of those
+places. Come in, won't you, and wait for him, if you want to see
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Afraid I can't do that," Mr. Orban said, speaking low so that only
+Mr. Cochrane, now by his horse's head, should hear. "Fact is, I'm
+rather worried. Bob's horse went lame, and he borrowed one of mine.
+He should have been here at about nine, but the horse&mdash;this one
+Eustace is on&mdash;appeared back at my place an hour ago."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cochrane stared blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"Without Bob?" he questioned in a dazed way.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Don't say anything about it to your wife&mdash;it might frighten
+her unnecessarily," Mr. Orban said. "He may have gone round by
+Gairloch, and the beast ran away from there. We can just say I came
+over on business, and then you had better come right off with me to
+see if Bob is all right."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do that," said the Scotsman, and hurried off to get his
+horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Now look here, Eustace," Mr. Orban said, "I'm going to leave you
+here for to-night, whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> happens. Mother would not thank me for
+bringing you through that mangrove swamp and risking fever. But
+you'll have to keep a quiet tongue in your head and say nothing
+about Bob's leaving our house to-day. If you say nothing, Mrs.
+Cochrane and Trix will only fancy he is staying with us."</p>
+
+<p>"O father," Eustace said pleadingly, "need I stay really?"</p>
+
+<p>The prospect frightened him, for he was terrified lest he should
+let the cat out of the bag. Keeping a secret was not one of his
+accomplishments.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my lad," was the answer, however; "there is to be no question
+about it, and you are to behave like a man. Anxiety is much worse
+to bear than any bodily hurt, and a man should protect a woman from
+it as he would save her from being tortured. Do you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," Eustace said, with a sinking heart.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a little thing to do," Mr. Orban went on; "it is one of
+the big things, for it means self-sacrifice. It is always
+comforting to oneself to talk things out. You'll have plenty of
+things to say without mentioning Bob. Tell them about Aunt Dorothy
+and her queer mistakes&mdash;the boxes you have unpacked&mdash;Ah, Mrs.
+Cochrane," he broke off suddenly, looking up to a figure that
+appeared on the upper veranda, "how do you do? I've just come over
+to steal your husband for a bit. I hope you won't mind."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was amazed at the change in his father's tone; it was
+brisk, cheery, and impossible to suspect.</p>
+
+<p>"But won't you come in?" asked Mrs. Cochrane, who in appearance was
+something like a little brown robin. "You must be hot and tired."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>"Not a bit," Mr. Orban said; "and I'm in such a hurry I must ask
+you to forgive the rudeness. I want you to do me a favour too, if
+you will. Keep Eustace the night. I never thought how late I might
+be going home when I brought him; I want to go back by Gairloch."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, I'll keep the dear laddie with pleasure," was the
+cordial answer, and the kindly look that beamed on Eustace
+positively hurt him. She looked so happy, and oh, what awful news
+was there in store for her!</p>
+
+<p>"I may even keep your husband all night," Mr. Orban added. "You
+won't be scared if he doesn't turn up in good time for bed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not I," said Mrs. Cochrane. "I know my dear belongings are always
+safe with you."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace could have cried at the words. "Safe!" and where was Bob
+whom she pictured so safely at this very minute in the Orbans'
+house? Mr. Orban did not look up as he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Don't expect Bob either. Eustace will tell you all about what a
+merry household we have suddenly become. We've got a witch into it,
+as Bob calls her. Here comes Cochrane. I hope he won't want an hour
+to say farewell."</p>
+
+<p>"Not I," said Mr. Cochrane bravely. "Orban has made his apologies,
+I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>He ran up the steps, said good-bye, and in a few minutes the two
+men were gone, leaving Eustace to face a terrible ordeal.</p>
+
+<p>He took his father's suggestion and talked much of Miss Chase. It
+was made easy for him by the kindly curiosity of both Mrs. Cochrane
+and Trixy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>Beatrix was a jolly girl, rather like Bob both in looks and ways.
+She was older for her age than Nesta, perhaps because she had no
+companions of her own standing to keep her back. Eustace and she
+always got on well together, and to-night he was grateful to her
+for being such a chatterbox. The story of Aunt Dorothy's lunatics
+made Mrs. Cochrane and Trix both laugh till the tears ran down
+their cheeks. It was harder to tell them about the evening before,
+for that was all so full of Bob.</p>
+
+<p>It struck Mrs. Cochrane after a time that Eustace looked singularly
+pale, and that the boy was talking rather fast and excitedly,
+unlike his usual self.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," she said, "I believe you are very tired, Eustace.
+What do you say to going to bed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I should love it," he said, with such eagerness that Mrs.
+Cochrane was startled, and eyeing him critically she discovered he
+was now crimson.</p>
+
+<p>"I just hope he has not got a touch of the sun," was her thought.</p>
+
+<p>But she said nothing of her fear.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was put into Bob's room, and everything he looked at in it
+made him more miserable. But he was thankful to get away by himself
+at last and give up the wretched pretence of good spirits. He felt
+he was getting to the end of his powers, that in another minute the
+truth would tumble out in spite of him. All the time he was talking
+he was also listening&mdash;listening&mdash;listening for the sound of hoofs
+that never came.</p>
+
+<p>He went on listening long after he got into bed, for he could not
+sleep, he was so certain there must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> be bad news, as neither Mr.
+Cochrane nor his father returned.</p>
+
+<p>He must have dozed fitfully through the night, but it seemed a
+terribly long one. Every time he opened his eyes he was wide awake
+in a minute to the remembrance of what had happened. When he awoke
+at last to find the sun rising, he could lie still no longer, he
+was haunted by such restless thoughts. He dressed and went
+downstairs into the open air.</p>
+
+<p>"Supposing Bob had gone off the track for some reason, and lost his
+way," ran his thoughts. "Supposing he was wandering about seeking
+it all night up to this very minute! Supposing he had been waylaid
+and surrounded by black-fellows!&mdash;Sinkum Fung had declared they
+were camping in the neighbourhood. No, Eustace would not think of
+that&mdash;one white man against a tribe of blacks: it was too terrible!
+And yet supposing he had been, and no one found out!" Thoughts are
+sometimes dreadfully uncontrollable things.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I will go for a ride," he said to himself. "I might just
+go down to the creek&mdash;I won't cross it&mdash;but just as far as there,
+to see if they are in sight. I can do that easily, and be in to
+breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>He found a man near the stables whom he got to saddle Bolter, then
+off he started down the slope across the river, and away over the
+uninteresting stretch of flatness till he again reached the river
+bank. There he paused, staring towards the mangrove swamp with the
+same chilled feeling he had experienced the day before. It was the
+terrible dread that the depths of the woods might hold something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+ghastly&mdash;Bob living, but in awful distress of mind or body; Bob
+dead!</p>
+
+<p>There were no signs of his father or Mr. Cochrane; no sounds but
+those of nature. They certainly could not have found Bob at
+Gairloch. The only alternative seemed the scrub.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Eustace threw back his head, and in a shrill treble gave
+vent to a prolonged Australian "coo-ee."</p>
+
+<p>"If he is there," argued the boy, "of course he will answer. How
+silly of me not to think of that before."</p>
+
+<p>He could hardly believe his ears for joy, but there was instantly
+an answer&mdash;so faint that he only caught a bit of it; still he heard
+it.</p>
+
+<p>In wild excitement he coo-eed again, his very loudest this time;
+and again came the reply, scarcely more distinct, and more like a
+cry than a coo-ee.</p>
+
+<p>"It comes from the scrub," thought Eustace. "He must be there, but
+awfully far off or ill, for that isn't like his voice. What shall I
+do? I can't go back and fetch any one, because father said I was
+not to tell. I daren't wait till father comes, for fear I lose it.
+It might get fainter and fainter. Oh, I must do something when Bob
+is calling out for help! If I could find him, if&mdash;if I could save
+him, it would be splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>Just once again he sent out his piercing coo-ee, and this time the
+answer was distinct enough for him to decide its exact position.
+Without another moment for reflection, he urged Bolter on, waded
+through the river, and dashed helter-skelter towards the wood. He
+thought nothing of the possibility<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> of himself being lost, nothing
+of the danger of meeting black-fellows. He was going to Bob&mdash;that
+was the central idea. Bob was in danger and called for help. It was
+the fulfilment of the greatest wish of Eustace's life to serve
+Bob.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span><a name="xi" id="xi"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br />
+
+<small>BLACK-FELLOWS.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">In the exultation of the thought Eustace plunged into the scrub and
+rode on and on unheedingly, lost in dreams of the adventure before
+him. Always he found Bob, always he rescued him, sometimes with the
+most thrilling hair-breadth escapes.</p>
+
+<p>The wood was not dark but densely shady, with black distances. It
+presently began to worry Eustace that it was impossible to keep a
+straight line for the direction whence the answering cry had come;
+it was often necessary to wind in and out of the close-growing tree
+stems to find a passage for himself and Bolter. There was no road,
+path, or even track to follow.</p>
+
+<p>"This will get muddling," he thought, when he had been twisting and
+turning, doubling back on his route, for about half an hour. "I
+guess I ought to have marked the trees with notches as I came
+along. I'll go back and start again."</p>
+
+<p>He pulled Bolter up, sat back on his saddle, and looked round for
+the gleam of light through the trunks of the trees that would guide
+him back to the open; but there was none&mdash;nothing but an even
+monotony of dense distance, no matter where he turned.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>The boy's heart stood still in the unpleasant shock of surprise.
+Which way had he come? He had not the slightest notion, for each
+way looked so exactly the same as the other. He realized with
+sickening intensity that he had lost his bearings.</p>
+
+<p>"But I must find my way out, of course," he said, addressing
+Bolter's glossy ears. "I'll try each way in turn till I see the
+light. There is nothing to be scared about."</p>
+
+<p>He felt quite angry with himself for his momentary panic; it was
+stupid and babyish. Of course fellows had been lost in the Bush,
+but they couldn't have been such a short way in as he must be by
+now. True, he had heard a story of a chap who had gone round and
+round like a squirrel in a cage not a mile from the outskirts of
+the scrub. He was "bushed," and found dead.</p>
+
+<p>The boy shuddered, then literally shook himself as he urged Bolter
+on again to begin investigations.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't think about it," he said, setting his teeth. "I must get
+out, and begin again; I must."</p>
+
+<p>In and out of the trees he wound, trying his utmost to retrace his
+steps; but he had noticed nothing on the way in, and he had no
+landmarks to guide him. This went on so long that, fight as he
+would with the fear at his heart, it began to master him.</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me I am always coming back to the place I start from," he
+thought, with a desperate sense of helplessness; "but there isn't a
+bit of difference between these hateful trees. I'll mark one and
+try."</p>
+
+<p>He cut a deep gash in the bark of the nearest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> to him, and went on.
+But though he watched most carefully, he never came on that tree
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"As I'm not getting out," he reflected, "I must be getting deeper
+and deeper into the scrub. Oh, what shall I do&mdash;what shall I do?
+What a silly fool I have been! I might have remembered father's
+warnings. Bob said one ought to learn to think out all sides of a
+question. I didn't; and now if father goes back I shan't be there
+to tell him I heard the coo-ee. Oh dear, oh dear!"</p>
+
+<p>He gave a gasping sigh, almost a sob. To have been so near saving
+Bob, and not to have done it after all&mdash;only to die "bushed"! It
+was enough to break a man's nerve, let alone a child's.</p>
+
+<p>He went back in thought to the river bank, picturing how it would
+have been if he had only patiently waited, giving a coo-ee now and
+again to keep in touch with the answerer.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, how silly I am!" he exclaimed. "If I coo-ee now he will
+answer me, and I can follow that."</p>
+
+<p>The thought cheered him instantly, and making a hollow mouthpiece
+with his hands to increase the sound, he gave the loudest coo-ee he
+had ever given in his life.</p>
+
+<p>There was not the faintest response.</p>
+
+<p>Again and again he repeated it, straining his ears to hear if there
+came a reply. More and more agonized grew his cries; so intense his
+silences between that he even stopped his breathing to listen. But
+there was nothing to hear. He got hot and cold by turns; he felt
+sick and queer. It was now hours since his departure from the
+Highlands, and he had had no food since the very poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> supper he
+managed to eat the night before. The effort of shouting did not
+improve matters, and he was so hoarse at last he could call no
+more.</p>
+
+<p>Then he completely lost his head, and began riding with desperate
+inconsequence as straight ahead as the trees would allow. Stay
+still he could not; the inaction terrified him. He argued that he
+must get somewhere by going on long enough&mdash;somewhere "through to
+the other side," as he expressed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Why doesn't Bob answer?" that was the most troublesome thought.
+"Have I got out of earshot?"</p>
+
+<p>Presently Eustace was beyond thinking; he went on dully because he
+felt he must keep on the move; but hunger, exhaustion, and the heat
+of the now well-advanced day were beginning to tell on him. The
+apathy threatened to become so settled that it was a mercy when
+Bolter presently stumbled so badly that Eustace had to rouse
+himself to hold on. Then it was that he noticed straight before him
+at last a wide gleam of light amongst the stems of the trees.</p>
+
+<p>The sight put such life and spirit into him that he whipped up the
+now drooping Bolter, who also had just cause to reflect on no
+breakfast and general ill-usage, and they covered the ground as
+fast as possible, considering how unequal it was, how thick the
+undergrowth in parts.</p>
+
+<p>A disappointment and a great surprise awaited the pair when they
+emerged into this open space&mdash;it was nothing but a clearing in the
+wood after all, dotted about with queer-shaped huts scarcely as
+tall as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> man, and all made of pliable branches of trees
+interwoven with grass for walls.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace pulled up short in breathless dismay, for a few paces away
+there arose from among these untidy "humpies" some twenty
+natives&mdash;erect, alert, all with poised boomerangs or spears ready
+to fling. It was a sinister reception for one small boy on a spent
+horse. Of course the keen-eared black-fellows had heard him coming
+from miles away, and were ready.</p>
+
+<p>It was small wonder, considering his condition, that after one
+wild, appealing glance at the line of fierce, dark faces Eustace
+fell forward on Bolter's neck in a dead faint. He did not see the
+weapons lowered, or the gleam of something like grim amusement on
+the chief's face as he realized for what it was they had been so
+elaborately prepared.</p>
+
+<p>Out of the huts crept stealthy figures of women and children. When
+Eustace opened his eyes he found himself lying flat on his back
+with these people crowding inquisitively around. He looked up into
+their repulsively heavy faces with a horror of realization. For
+some moments he was too paralyzed to stir. No more awful fate could
+have befallen him than this&mdash;it was the sort of thing that might
+come to one in a nightmare. But he knew it was no dream. There
+stood Bolter a few paces away, grazing thankfully, and in no way
+perturbed.</p>
+
+<p>The harsh guttural language these people spoke was unintelligible
+to the boy, but he could guess they were intensely curious about
+him from the way they pointed and stared. It seemed to him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> that
+some of them could never have seen a white child before, they were
+so excited, especially the children, who looked half terrified.
+Were they cannibals these people? he wondered, with a sinking
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>He forced himself to his feet, and stood shaking a second, then
+dropped on his knees. The performance seemed to amuse the gaping
+group&mdash;the younger men and women laughed, the children clapped
+their hands.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was wondering drearily how long they would stand staring at
+him, when the chief strode up to him and said something with many
+gesticulations; but not a thing could the boy understand.</p>
+
+<p>The chief was much more decorated than any one else&mdash;covered from
+head to heels with stripes and devices in white, blue, and red
+paint. There were feathers in his crisp dark hair, and slung over
+his shoulder a strange shaped club.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace proceeded, by means of much waving, pointing, and the
+patter talked on the plantation by the coolies, to try and explain
+how he had come there, and how very much he only wanted to get away
+and find the way home. But it was useless&mdash;the men shook their
+heads and looked perplexed.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that no one seemed inclined to molest him, but that every
+one merely watched him as if he were a monkey in a cage at the Zoo,
+he resolved on a desperate step. With a supreme effort he stood
+again, staggered over to Bolter, and attempted to mount.</p>
+
+<p>But this was not allowed. With two strides the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> chief was upon him,
+flinging him back on the ground as a big boy might fling a kitten
+from him. Then the great man plainly intimated that this creature
+he considered his; no one should touch it. Eustace was not to dare
+to approach it. The chief's attitude was menacing; it was well to
+be seen he felt he had acquired a prize.</p>
+
+<p>"But what is going to happen to me?" thought Eustace, quaking with
+fear. "What will they do with me?"</p>
+
+<p>No one seemed to have any intention of doing anything with him at
+the moment; he was only stared at. The men, for the most part, were
+now more interested in Bolter, particularly his saddle and bridle.
+Little by little the women dropped off, as if they had work to
+attend to, and a smell of cooking arose that made the boy sick with
+longing as he sat huddled up and half silly with starvation and
+fatigue. The apathy that had been upon him before he was cheered by
+the gleam of light crept over him again; fear faded from his mind;
+nothing seemed to matter any more.</p>
+
+<p>He sat so still that presently the children crept closer, and began
+to finger his clothes, as if they puzzled them. What drew them away
+from him he did not realize till something was thrust under his
+very nose, and the smell told him it was food.</p>
+
+<p>He had just enough sense left to try and eat; but before he had
+swallowed five mouthfuls he rolled over and fell sound asleep.
+Nothing could have kept him awake&mdash;neither a thunderstorm nor an
+earthquake.</p>
+
+<p>When he awoke again to a consciousness of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> surroundings the sun
+was rising. He had come through the night in safety&mdash;that was his
+first thought; and it both surprised and encouraged him. Surely, he
+argued, if they wanted to kill him he would not have been spared so
+long.</p>
+
+<p>The scarcely-touched food was still beside him. Refreshed by the
+much-needed sleep, he was able to eat it now, and began to feel
+more like himself again, though stiff and still weary. He was
+sufficiently rested for his brain to be active once more, and his
+whole thoughts were bent upon what was to become of him next.</p>
+
+<p>Bolter was tethered at the other side of the open space, well
+guarded, as if the chief thought he might try to inveigle the horse
+away by some magic means, then mount and ride off. It was very
+evident that if he meant to get away it would have to be on
+foot&mdash;the chief would not part with Bolter. The question was: Did
+they mean to detain Eustace as prisoner? At present, except that
+they stared inquisitively at him, every one seemed fairly
+indifferent to his presence. However, he decided that it would be
+foolish to put the matter to the test in broad daylight; he must
+wait till nightfall, and under cover of the intense darkness make
+his escape. He set himself to wait as patiently as he could,
+pretending to be as drowsy and inert as a well-fed snake; but his
+mind was very active. He had never thought so many thoughts in all
+his life before. What, he wondered, could Mrs. Cochrane have
+thought of his disappearance? Had his father returned to the
+Highlands and discovered it? Were they keeping his loss from his
+mother as they had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> kept Bob's from Mrs. Cochrane? Was it possible
+Bob had got safe and sound home again? And oh! were they looking
+for him?</p>
+
+<p>There came an answer both to this and to the question as to the
+black-fellows' intentions respecting him that very morning.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace had been furtively watching the dark figures moving to and
+fro. Apparently some of the men went off to hunt. Except when they
+were preparing food, the women seemed to do nothing. The children
+squabbled and tumbled about, or slept like tired brown kittens in
+casual places. There was a great hush over everything, when
+suddenly across the silence came a sound that set every pulse in
+the boy's body astir, so that the beating of his heart almost
+choked him. It was a distant but long, clear coo-ee.</p>
+
+<p>Wild with joy Eustace sprang to his feet, but before he could make
+a sound he found himself surrounded by a dozen menacing figures,
+clubs in hand, ready to fell him if he dared to reply.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the tribes are very secretive and stealthy in their
+movements. It was well to be seen that this one did not wish to
+have its camping ground divulged.</p>
+
+<p>With a thrill of horror Eustace understood that he was powerless.
+To cry out would mean certain death. It might be their intention to
+kill him at any rate, but in the postponement lay a chance of
+escape. He must meet stealth by stealth.</p>
+
+<p>Again the coo-ee cut through the air, but Eustace covered his face
+with his hands and dropped dejectedly back on the ground.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>It was a bitter moment. Could anything have been worse than to know
+help was at hand, and to be unable to take it?</p>
+
+<p>That a search-party was now out he felt certain; it was probably
+his father's voice, and he dared not answer. He had the sense to
+see how useless it would be to give one cry, and die for it. But
+oh! it was hard&mdash;cruelly hard.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him those coo-ees went on for hours, each with a long
+listening pause after it, sometimes nearer, gradually fading away
+and away till they were no louder than the answer he had received
+on the banks of the creek.</p>
+
+<p>In addition to the keenness of the disappointment and the terror
+that he was losing his last chance of ever getting home again came
+the speculation as to what these wild-faced people meant to do with
+him, and there leaped to his mind a new and very terrible question.
+Was it possible that Bob had come this way? Had they met him with
+spears and boomerangs, and dispatched him before he had time to
+whip out his revolver? But no. There was still that answering
+coo-ee to be accounted for. Perhaps they had only bound him and
+made him prisoner till then, undecided what to do with him. It was
+possible that on hearing Eustace's coo-ee he had dared the blacks,
+and attempted those three faint answers. If so, they had cost him
+his life, and the ultimate silence was explained.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace lay shuddering over the thought. He could only keep his
+teeth from chattering by holding his jaw tightly in both hands.</p>
+
+<p>How long he lay lost in those miserable thoughts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> he did not know.
+He was roused from his lethargy by a soft kick, and, starting up,
+he found the woman who fed him the day before beside him offering
+him food again. She seemed to treat him as if he were a white pig
+that had strayed amongst them. He was probably a less intelligible
+creature in her eyes, but she knew that he must at least eat to
+live.</p>
+
+<p>It was a messy preparation, but he managed to eat some; and all the
+driest portions of it he could extract unnoticed he slipped into
+his pockets, laying in provision for possible starvation next day.
+Then he lay down again and feigned sleep.</p>
+
+<p>He looked through half-closed lids with longing eyes at the
+peaceful Bolter. Eustace wondered whether he too had heard those
+tantalizing coo-ees and ached to respond. What would be poor
+Bolter's fate here? The blacks make the women of the tribes into
+their beasts of burden when shifting camp; they do not habitually
+use horses. The chief was perhaps only keeping Bolter as a valuable
+addition to the larder when provisions ran short.</p>
+
+<p>Every thought that came to the boy was horrid. He wished he did not
+have to think, and as dusk fell set his mind to the task of keeping
+awake after his captors had settled down for the night. It would be
+fatal to sleep as he had done the night before.</p>
+
+<p>The chief had been away all day, and was not yet come back. It was
+possible judgment on the prisoner was suspended till his return.
+When the great man heard of the coo-ees and Eustace's attempt to
+answer, probably the boy's fate would be sealed. Escape must be now
+or never.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>Eustace made up his mind that he would start off in the direction
+whence the coo-ees had come. It was the only guide he had, and a
+very poor one, as had already been proved by the first cry he had
+so unfortunately tried to follow.</p>
+
+<p>He waited just as long as he could bear, after silence fell on the
+camp. There was no question of taking Bolter. He was guarded as on
+the night before; besides, he would have made too much noise.
+Eustace dared not get up and walk himself, or even crawl. He had
+invented a silent, gliding movement as he lay scheming&mdash;by means of
+strong tufts of grass he meant to gradually pull his body,
+snakewise, little by little away from the open into the wood.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he dared he began his weird progress, quaking at every
+sound he made lest it should rouse those keen-eared sleepers so
+close around him. The soft "frou-frou" of the dry grass beneath him
+sounded to his excited fancy like the sudden rushing of a torrent.
+He was almost overwhelmed by the fear of pulling himself
+inadvertently up against one of those dark forms, for he did not
+know where every one was lying. One false move now, and it would
+mean the end of all things for him.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span><a name="xii" id="xii"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br />
+
+<small>THE SECRET OF THE THICKET.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">The night was close and still with the silence that intensifies
+sound tenfold. Eustace thought he could not have had worse luck.
+His temptation was to hurry; common sense bade him hold himself in
+check. Panic urged him to risk everything, and make a bolt for it.
+But Bob's precept was ringing in his mind&mdash;there were two sides to
+the question; he might bolt, but where to in the dark? It was
+useless to dash headlong into trees and make for nowhere in
+particular. The plan was to get as far away as possible in the
+dark, unheard, so that by daylight he would be out of sight, and
+able to quicken his pace to some purpose.</p>
+
+<p>Gliding, halting, scarcely breathing, he pulled himself along, and
+great beads of perspiration started on his forehead and trickled
+down into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The darkness was useful in one way, but it had its disadvantages.
+He had no idea what progress he was making, and it seemed ages
+before his hand came against what he thankfully realized was the
+bark of a tree. Almost simultaneously there was a blinding flash of
+lightning, so vivid that for a full moment the sleeping camp lay
+revealed, and Eustace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> had time to grasp the fact that he was well
+within the outskirts of the wood. The crash of thunder almost
+overhead brought him to his feet. Now was the time to make some
+pace, in the dense darkness, under cover of that merciful noise.
+Eustace was not the least afraid of thunder and lightning; he was
+used to tremendous storms, and loved nothing better than to stand
+out on the veranda to watch one raging round among the hills or out
+at sea. Now it was a positive blessing. Every flash showed him
+where he was, and he took care to have a tree trunk between himself
+and the camp. Then during the thunder bursts he made his way
+swiftly forward, groping cautiously like a blind man. His spirits
+rose with the excitement, and all his courage came back to him.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the storm had grumbled itself away into the distance he
+knew he was well out of sight of the camp, and he dared to sit down
+to wait for dawn. Without the aid of the lightning it was folly to
+plunge farther into the scrub.</p>
+
+<p>In spite of a stern resolve not even to let himself doze, the tired
+boy must have slept awhile, sitting with his back against a tree.
+There was just a first glimmer of light penetrating the thick
+foliage above when he opened his eyes with a sudden definite
+feeling of something having roused him.</p>
+
+<p>Very much on the alert, instantly he raised his head, and sat
+listening with held breath. He was beginning to think he must have
+been mistaken, when there came a sound that made his hair stand on
+end and his blood run cold. He got up swiftly but softly, and
+stood, still backed by the tree, staring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> into the gloom. The sound
+seemed to come from what looked like a dense thicket not very far
+to the right, but as yet it was not light enough to distinguish
+objects from each other.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it some animal, or a native, or what can it be?" Eustace
+questioned, feeling most horribly shaky.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long pause, and then the silence was once more broken
+by a deep, heavy groan&mdash;something like a long sobbing sigh.</p>
+
+<p>The boy was paralyzed with horror. Besides which, to have moved, to
+have gone forward, would have been useless in this half light. He
+could have done nothing, seen nothing. There was nothing for it but
+to wait till daybreak. He could not bring himself to sit down
+again; there is always a feeling of being ready for anything when
+one is standing.</p>
+
+<p>There was another long interval, and then this awful sound came
+once more&mdash;slow, laboured, intensely painful. There could be no
+doubt that something or some one was suffering inexpressibly not
+twenty yards away. The voice was like the voice of a man having a
+nightmare, and trying to call some one to help him. The third time
+the sound came Eustace almost fancied it contained a word&mdash;"Help."</p>
+
+<p>Five times he heard it, and every time it was exactly the same in
+tone and duration. Each time he became more persuaded that it was a
+muffled cry for help.</p>
+
+<p>The light was coming at last. Soon he would be able to venture
+forward and find out what horrible secret the thicket held.</p>
+
+<p>The boy sank down on his knees and prayed with all his might for
+strength to face whatever it might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> for at the thought of the
+ordeal before him he could have turned and fled. He stood up again
+as white as a sheet, but resolute, and ashamed of the temptation.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is there?" he demanded in a hoarse, shaky voice unlike his
+own.</p>
+
+<p>His throat was parched, his lips dry. He had not spoken a word for
+two nights and a day; it was scarcely wonderful speech was
+difficult.</p>
+
+<p>There was no answer for a full minute, and then came that same
+groaning cry again, not as in answer to the question, but at its
+own regular interval.</p>
+
+<p>Following the curve of the thicket a little way, behind a thick
+group of trees Eustace came to a sudden standstill with a cry of
+dismay; for there, standing almost upright in the thickest of the
+scrub, was the figure of a man, his bare head bowed down upon his
+breast so that his face was invisible, his arms hanging down at his
+sides.</p>
+
+<p>It struck Eustace at once as strange that he should be standing
+making this terrible sound. It would not have surprised the boy
+nearly so much to have found him lying down&mdash;indeed, that he had
+expected. Bracing himself to the task, Eustace went closer.</p>
+
+<p>"I say," he said in a loud voice, "what's up?"</p>
+
+<p>The man made neither sign nor movement. Could he be tied there to a
+stake? the boy wondered. Was he deaf and blind?</p>
+
+<p>"I say," Eustace said, almost shouting now, "can't you see me?"</p>
+
+<p>Fighting down his own horror of the situation, he pressed a little
+closer, to find the man's shirt torn to shreds, his arms pinioned
+down to his sides by something that looked like small cords.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>"It's the 'wait-a-bit' cane!" Eustace exclaimed aloud, shrinking
+back sharply with a quick horror of being entrapped by it himself.</p>
+
+<p>Here was an awful state of affairs. A wretched wayfarer caught and
+held like a fly in a spider's web, and not a soul at hand to help.</p>
+
+<p>To go back to the natives was out of the question. With their
+reputation for cruelty and hatred of white men it would be worse
+than useless to appeal to them. What was to be done? What would Bob
+have done under the circumstances?</p>
+
+<p>With a gasping cry Eustace crept closer again, and bending low he
+strained to catch a glimpse of the man's face without going too
+perilously deep into the thicket.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob," whispered the boy, "Bob, is it you? Oh, speak to me&mdash;is it
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>Little fool that he had been not to think of it before. But somehow
+these last hours of terror, centred only upon himself and his own
+means of escape, had blunted his intelligence to everything
+else&mdash;even to the remembrance of Bob. He was mad with himself for
+it now&mdash;so mad that all thought of personal danger fell away from
+him. He had room for nothing but the realization that this must be
+Bob indeed standing here helpless and dying of privation.</p>
+
+<p>Oh the folly of having waited for the light! But Eustace stayed for
+nothing more now&mdash;not even to look at the two sides of the
+question. He dashed against the bushes like a little mad thing,
+recklessly fighting his way towards the imprisoned man.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob, Bob!" he said in a voice choked with sobs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>It was difficult to grasp that this huddled, helpless figure was
+Bob, the big, the strong. But when at last Eustace saw the white,
+drawn face he knew there was no mistake about it.</p>
+
+<p>There came that awful groan again, but this time Eustace did not
+shrink back.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, Bob," he said huskily. "I've come now. I'm going
+to help you all I can. You shan't die&mdash;you shan't&mdash;you shan't."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke the last words through set teeth, for he had taken out his
+clasp-knife, and was hacking at the cruel bonds with all his might.</p>
+
+<p>It needed no explanation to tell Eustace how Bob had got there. The
+thing was as plain as daylight. He must have been riding fast, and
+inadvertently struck against some "wait-a-bit," which rebounded
+like a bit of twisted elastic, and caught him in such a grip that
+he was powerless to free himself. Bolter passed on from beneath,
+and the more he fought and struggled the tighter he became
+entangled. Had his arms been free it would have been different; but
+the strength of the cane was marvellous&mdash;moreover, it was covered
+with vicious thorns. That Bob had fought desperately for his life
+was to be seen by the condition of his shirt and his deeply-scored
+skin. He was now in a state of more than semi-unconsciousness from
+exhaustion and starvation; still, at intervals, he half roused
+himself to call for help, as he must have been doing for days.</p>
+
+<p>It was no easy matter to saw through the cane, which was wound
+again and again round him. But bit by bit Eustace worked at it,
+with a ferocity that was bound to tell. He was mad with fear for
+Bob,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> and madness is said to increase strength extraordinarily.</p>
+
+<p>More by good luck than good guidance the boy was not caught in the
+meshes himself, for he took no care.</p>
+
+<p>As the last coils were cut, and Bob was bereft of his main support,
+he fell gradually to the ground, lying in the pathway Eustace had
+made to reach him, and from there the boy could not move him an
+inch. Perhaps owing to the change of position Bob had stopped
+groaning at last; but though Eustace called him, and implored him
+to speak, if only a word, he made no sign.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose it is faintness," Eustace thought in deep trouble, for
+this was something so terribly new in Bob. He did not seem the sort
+of fellow who could ever be ill.</p>
+
+<p>Something ought to be done for him, and that quickly; this much
+Eustace knew. At home he would have rushed for water; but here
+where there was none&mdash;where there was nothing&mdash;what was he to do?
+If only he were a man, and carried a brandy flask, as his father
+always did! A sudden brilliant idea struck him&mdash;perhaps Bob carried
+a flask himself!</p>
+
+<p>It was the work of but a few seconds to search him, and to the
+boy's joy he found a little flask full of spirit. It was not very
+long since Eustace had had a practical demonstration of what to do
+with some one in a faint. He remembered Mrs. Robertson's treatment
+of his mother the night of their fright about Becky.</p>
+
+<p>So first he moistened the dry blue lips, then put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> a few drops
+between them. Oh, it was a tedious, terrifying business&mdash;too long
+to describe; and nothing scared Eustace more than the choking and
+gasping with which Bob came to himself at last. But it was the
+turning-point and saving of his life.</p>
+
+<p>It took Bob a long time to pull himself sufficiently together to
+make a sign to Eustace that he knew him. He was far too weak to
+speak at first; but after a long, dazed study of the boy's white,
+miserable face, Bob's lips parted in a pitiful attempt at a smile.</p>
+
+<p>To his own after-annoyance and shame, whenever he remembered it,
+Eustace flung himself face downwards on the ground and fairly
+sobbed. What fear for his own safety and all the horrors he had
+gone through had no power to do, the relaxation of this tension of
+anxiety about Bob did.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, old chap," came in a far-away whisper to his ears, "don't!"</p>
+
+<p>It pulled him up short. Bob's eyes were closed, and he looked so
+like fainting again that Eustace gave him more brandy.</p>
+
+<p>It had a good effect; but later, not even when he had regained his
+full consciousness, could Bob move hand or foot; he was as stiff as
+a log. Just as he had been bound rigidly upright, so he remained
+now lying at full length.</p>
+
+<p>"Guess I'm pretty helpless," he said in a thin, weak voice. "I
+shall have to be oiled before I can move." Then, after a little
+while, when he had been lying staring at his companion meditatively
+some minutes, he said, "Just explain what you are doing here, will
+you?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>From the very beginning&mdash;the return of Bolter&mdash;Eustace told the
+story of the last few days, and Bob listened with growing eagerness
+in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"So you lost yourself finding me," he said at the end. "And there
+isn't a doubt you've saved my life, old boy."</p>
+
+<p>But even this assertion did not cheer Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I haven't, though," he said miserably, "because you see
+we are lost."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it," Bob said. "If I had any legs I could walk you
+out of the wood in two hours. I know the way perfectly."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you?" Eustace exclaimed. "Then what did you come here for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Merely to see if it was true there were any natives in the
+neighbourhood," was the answer. "I never got as far as the camp,
+but my shouts brought a whole lot of them gibbering round me. It
+seemed to amuse them to see me there; but they threatened to kill
+me if I went on shouting, so I had to shut up and hope for the
+best. They have come each day in little batches and watched me
+awhile, then slipped away. At last I began to feel so bad that I
+rather wished they would come and finish me off, to put me out of
+my misery; so I began calling again. But I suppose my voice was too
+weak to matter; they knew I couldn't be heard. Anyhow, the beggars
+didn't touch me. I dare say they'll come again to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace looked scared.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say," he exclaimed, "I hope they won't. They'll take us
+prisoners, and goodness knows what they'll do to us. We must get
+away from here before they come."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>"You must," said Bob, "but I can't. You'll have to take my compass,
+and keep going due west with it all the time. You'll know where you
+are the minute you get out into the open."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace stared at him blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"But I couldn't go and leave you," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" asked Bob with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"How could I," Eustace said warmly, "and you in danger? I just
+won't go. Nothing shall make me."</p>
+
+<p>There was a curious light in Bob's eyes as they rested on the slip
+of a lad kneeling beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Good old man," he said, "you can't do me any good by staying. For
+both our sakes you must go, and as fast as you can."</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose while I am away&mdash;" began Eustace desperately.</p>
+
+<p>"We've got to chance that," said Bob bravely. "You couldn't save my
+life if you stayed; you could only die too, and what would be the
+good of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather," said Eustace chokily.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wouldn't," Bob said firmly. "We mustn't think about
+ourselves in it at all. You've got to go home and set the dear
+home-folks' minds at rest about us. They'll know no peace till they
+hear, one way or another. Then, of course, they'll set out to fetch
+me. You'll guide them. If I am here, well and good. If I am not,
+don't you forget I wouldn't let you stay. You did the only thing
+you could for me by obeying orders."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace hid his face in his hands because his lips were trembling
+so; he felt sick, and shaky all over.</p>
+
+<p>"O Bob," he said, "must I?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>"For my sake, laddie," said Bob softly.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace stood up, but kept his head turned away that Bob should
+still not see his face.</p>
+
+<p>"I do wish," said Bob lightly, "that you could give me a nice slice
+of beef before you go; I'm so hungry."</p>
+
+<p>It was a little bit of chaff to help the boy to pull himself
+together. It worked quite a miracle, for Eustace's face cleared
+instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, how stupid of me!" he said. "I can give you something to eat.
+It was what I couldn't finish of my own."</p>
+
+<p>Out of his pockets he pulled the unappetizing lumps of food he had
+secreted, and kneeling again, he began feeding the helpless man as
+if he had been a baby.</p>
+
+<p>"Upon my word, you are a magician," said Bob, keeping up a cheery
+tone, although he could little more than whisper. "But eat some
+yourself; turn and turn about."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want any," said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Obey," said Bob briskly, with his kind smile.</p>
+
+<p>So they made their strange meal together. It was a small one, but
+quite enough for Bob after his long starvation.</p>
+
+<p>"I ate every leaf and berry within my reach," he told Eustace, "or
+I don't think I should be alive to tell the tale. Lucky for me,
+they were none of them poisonous. When they were done I started on
+chewing twigs, but they didn't go far."</p>
+
+<p>At last Eustace had no excuse to linger. Very unwillingly he rose
+to do Bob's behest. He had never heard of anything so awful as
+leaving him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> like this to his fate. It seemed the worst kind of
+desertion&mdash;something that he would be ashamed of all the days of
+his life.</p>
+
+<p>Bob made him take his watch and chain with the compass on it.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep the compass afterwards if you like," Bob said, "and give my
+love to every one."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace turned sharply away; he could stand no more.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye," he said thickly; "I feel a beast."</p>
+
+<p>He took two quick strides forward, and walked right into some one.
+It was the great native chief.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span><a name="xiii" id="xiii"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br />
+
+<small>A GREAT SURPRISE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">Eustace thought he had never seen anything so wicked as the
+chief's grin when he looked down into his astonished face. The
+black-fellow's teeth gleamed like a wolf's. His whole expression
+seemed to say, "Ha, ha! so I've caught you in the very act. You
+don't escape me so easily, you see." He evidently felt an exultant
+satisfaction in frustrating his departure, or he was rejoicing over
+having found him again.</p>
+
+<p>With an overwhelming consciousness of Bob's helplessness, Eustace
+moved back quickly to the prostrate figure, as if to shelter it.</p>
+
+<p>"What's up, old man?" questioned Bob, who from his position could
+see nothing. "You're not shirking, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>The chief came rapidly within range of the sick man's eyes, and
+Bob's face fell most unmistakably. There was disappointment in
+every line of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Phew!" he whistled, "we've lost our chance this time."</p>
+
+<p>Exactly how crestfallen the pair was it would be impossible to
+describe. Not that Bob had harboured any hope for himself. He knew
+the natives would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> come to him before Eustace could possibly get
+back with assistance, and finding him no longer an amusing
+spectacle, would probably dispatch him. But he had been bent on
+saving the boy's life and sending his message home.</p>
+
+<p>The native chief said something in his rapid, unintelligible
+language, then turned, made a strange call, and began gesticulating
+violently.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace dropped on his knees and hid his face on Bob's tattered
+shirt.</p>
+
+<p>"Buck up, old chap," Bob said softly; "one can only die once. Let's
+show these black-fellows how a Christian and an Englishman can do
+it. You'll get the strength right enough; I'm not a bit afraid of
+your funking."</p>
+
+<p>There was an advancing tramp, a crashing of branches: the chief's
+summons was being rapidly obeyed. With a long shuddering sigh
+Eustace raised himself and knelt upright, gazing down on his hero.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," said Bob steadily, with his own genial smile
+lighting up his whole face, "keep your eyes on mine; hold on to me
+if you like. I shan't think you a muff, because I know you aren't
+one."</p>
+
+<p>But the boy did not touch him; he kept his hands clasped tightly
+together in a supreme effort to be worthy of Bob's belief in him.
+He heard the new-comers halt. The native spoke and moved aside.
+Then&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Both of them!" exclaimed a familiar voice. "Thank God for that."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace sank back in a heap on the ground and stared up.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>"Father!" cried Bob in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>It was Mr. Cochrane indeed, and with him Mr. Orban&mdash;as haggard a
+pair as could be met with in a long day's march.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed little short of a miracle that they should appear at such
+a juncture, yet the explanation proved simple enough. The native
+chief had fetched them straight to the spot. There was no sort of
+nobility in the act: the man knew enough of white men's ways to
+expect a big reward. Bob he did not know; but when Eustace appeared
+on the scene he recognized the boy as belonging to the master of
+the neighbouring plantation, whom he had seen many times from a
+distance as he rode through the Bush. Mr. Orban was out with Mr.
+Cochrane making a frantic search of the entire neighbourhood when
+the chief arrived, and he would communicate his business to no one
+else. Not that it is likely any one else would have understood him
+or followed him as Mr. Orban did the moment he arrived home. The
+language was unintelligible to both men; but putting two and two
+together in their great anxiety, they made out that the chief could
+lead them where they would find something of interest to
+themselves. They had not dared to hope he knew the whereabouts of
+both their sons, or to speculate which they should find; they did
+not even know whether they were being taken to the living or the
+dead.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid you'll have a bit of bother getting me home," said Bob;
+"I'm as stiff as a board, and can't move hand or foot."</p>
+
+<p>Then he told his story, and how Eustace had found him, and to all
+intents and purposes saved his life.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>"And you, Eustace," said Mr. Orban&mdash;"how did you come here?"</p>
+
+<p>When Eustace came to the description of the answering coo-ee on the
+banks of the creek, Mr. Orban interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"That was only an echo. I knew there was one there, but I never
+thought of telling you."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God you didn't," said Mr. Cochrane, "and that he made the
+mistake. We should never have found Bob but for that."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," Eustace said anxiously, "you won't forget poor old
+Bolter, will you? This black-fellow has got him in the camp over
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"I had quite forgotten him," Mr. Orban said; "and we shall need him
+too."</p>
+
+<p>Their own horses were quietly waiting a little distance back. By
+means of much gesticulation&mdash;pointing towards the horses, and then
+in the direction of the camp&mdash;the chief was made to understand what
+was wanted; and after a little demur he went away to fetch Bolter,
+but certainly most grudgingly.</p>
+
+<p>The journey back to the plantation was one that none of the party
+could ever forget. The difficulty of conveying the helpless Bob,
+the suffering he so bravely tried to endure, and the terrible time
+it took, were indescribable.</p>
+
+<p>It had of course been necessary to tell both mothers of the loss of
+their sons. Mrs. Cochrane and Trixy had gone immediately to the
+Orbans' house as more central for obtaining news.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban dispatched one coolie from the plantation for the doctor,
+who lived fifteen miles away. Another man he sent up the hill as
+fast as he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> go with a note preparing his wife for their
+arrival, and the whole white-faced party was out waiting for it as
+the slow procession&mdash;Bob on a stretcher in the midst&mdash;wound its way
+to the house.</p>
+
+<p>The joy of the meeting was lost sight of in the anxiety, for Bob
+was by this time delirious with pain, Eustace so weak that he was
+nearly fainting.</p>
+
+<p>For the next ten days the house was no better than a hospital&mdash;its
+central interest the condition of the two patients within its
+walls; but the first day Bob and Eustace were brought out on to the
+veranda&mdash;two white-faced shadows of themselves&mdash;Bob laughingly
+called it the convalescent home.</p>
+
+<p>Up to that point everything was, as Nesta expressed it, horrid; but
+when Bob was about again, even if his voice was weaker, his laugh a
+ghost of itself, matters at once began to improve.</p>
+
+<p>They were all sitting together enjoying the cool of the evening.</p>
+
+<p>"What I can't understand," said Nesta meditatively, breaking a long
+pause, "is why the black-fellows wouldn't let Eustace answer
+father's coo-ee."</p>
+
+<p>"It is quite simple," said Mr. Orban. "The chief had evidently
+given strict orders he was not to be allowed to go in his absence,
+and they were afraid we should come and take him away. Then the
+chief would have got no reward."</p>
+
+<p>"What I can't understand," said Peter, who never remained long in
+the background, "is why the black-fellows didn't cut Bob down. It
+was wicked of them."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I think," said Nesta. "If they left him because they
+thought it funny, I wish they could be tortured."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>"Nesta, Nesta, my darling!" said Mrs. Orban warningly.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose," said Miss Chase softly, "the poor things have no
+knowledge of mercy."</p>
+
+<p>"None," said Mr. Cochrane, who was over spending the evening; "and
+they wouldn't understand it if you showed them any, either."</p>
+
+<p>"No heathens ever do," said Mrs. Orban, "and how should they? They
+have no Great Example to follow as we have. It is the people who
+have the chance of knowing better, and still are cruel and
+heartless, that I would have tortured&mdash;if any one."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban gave a soft laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"If any one, indeed, wife," he said. "You know as well as I do that
+you wouldn't have a spider hurt for torturing a fly."</p>
+
+<p>Every one laughed with him except Mrs. Orban herself. Her tender
+heart was as good as a fable in the household. But she said quite
+gravely,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You have chosen a bad example for once, Jack. A spider is as
+ignorant as a heathen. It has only its own nature to follow."</p>
+
+<p>"Got the worst of it there, Mr. Orban," said Bob in an amused tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Talking of cruelty," remarked Miss Chase, "what do you do to your
+unfortunate cows here at night? I never heard such a dismal noise
+as they make."</p>
+
+<p>"Cows!" exclaimed every one in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, cows," was the answer. "If you listen you can hear them now."</p>
+
+<p>There was an instant hush, followed by renewed peals of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Those aren't cows I advise you to go and sympathize<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> with, Miss
+Chase," said Bob. "We call them alligators hereabouts, and at the
+present minute they are lying on the banks of the creek wishing a
+nice, tasty supper would come strolling along."</p>
+
+<p>"There are alligators in the river, and yet Nesta says you boat on
+it and bathe in it!" exclaimed Miss Chase. "What extraordinary
+people you are!"</p>
+
+<p>"There are alligators one side of the bar and sharks the other, and
+one often upsets going over it in rough weather," said Bob
+cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"How horrible!" said Miss Chase.</p>
+
+<p>"When Aunt Dorothy saw a tarantula strolling round the table
+towards her the other day she nearly had a fit," said Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell tales out of school, Peter Perky," said Aunt Dorothy.
+"A poor, ignorant Englishwoman isn't expected to be brave when she
+sees a spider as big as a penny bun, with furry legs in proportion,
+trying to sit on her knee."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, so far, Miss Chase," said Bob, with a twinkle in his eyes,
+"you are not infatuated with our Bush life?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have you and Eustace given me much chance to be?" she asked. "You
+must confess you did not give me a very good first impression by
+both running away and losing yourselves. We don't think that sort
+of thing necessary for the entertainment of our friends in England.
+Spiders are spiders there, too, not animated penny buns, and our
+cows don't want to eat us."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course," said Bob, "everything is perfect in England&mdash;isn't
+it, Nesta?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>"It has some advantages," said Mrs. Orban. "I think the absence of
+these excitements is amongst them."</p>
+
+<p>She was looking very worn out after her recent experiences.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's my opinion, my dear," said Mr. Orban, "that with your
+little family you would have excitements wherever you went. It has
+seemed fated to give you one shock after another."</p>
+
+<p>"Only just lately, Jack," was the gentle response, for Mrs. Orban
+caught a contrite expression in Eustace's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It was the coming of the witch that did it," said Bob. "As soon as
+she started for Queensland queer things began happening over here.
+She wanted to make you out of conceit with life here, so that she
+could more easily bewitch you over to England. That was her spell."</p>
+
+<p>"And the queer thing is," said Mr. Orban quite gravely, "that it
+has acted. She is going to take them all away from me when she
+goes&mdash;wife, and sons, and daughters."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," exclaimed Nesta, "what are you saying?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a story, daddy?" demanded Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"No, the solemn truth," said Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand," said Eustace blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"How should you when so much nonsense is being talked?" said his
+mother. "But the fact is, father thinks a change of air would do us
+all a great deal of good; and as grannie wants us, and has sent us
+our passage money&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Nesta, "don't go on, mummie. You make it sound
+just as if it were real, and it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> <em>will</em> be so disappointing to have
+to <em>un</em>-fancy it again."</p>
+
+<p>But Eustace said breathlessly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, <em>is</em> it true?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite true," was the grave answer. "We sail the end of next month.
+It is all settled."</p>
+
+<p>"What did I say?" said Bob in mock despair. "She'll take you away,
+and you'll never come back any more."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, there you are quite wrong, Bob," said Mrs. Orban. "If Dorothy
+is a witch, Jack is a wizard, and he will magic us all back again
+in a year and a day at latest."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I simply can't believe it," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the queerest thing I have ever heard," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>But Peter set up such yells of delight he had to be repressed by
+the early-to-bed threat&mdash;always a useful one when Peter became
+rampageous, for he hated going to bed at any time.</p>
+
+<p>That evening no one could talk of anything but this trip to
+England. No matter what subject was started, everything harked back
+to this wonderful plan, which Mr. Orban had been thinking out for
+some time, only confiding in his wife and Miss Chase as long as the
+matter was undecided. Bob kept up the appearance of being utterly
+woebegone, and Nesta and Peter seemed to have turned into machines
+for asking questions.</p>
+
+<p>Of the party only Eustace was silent, and presently Nesta noticed
+the fact.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you most awfully glad?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Eustace slowly.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>"Goodness!" said Nesta in a bustling tone, "you've always said you
+wanted to go."</p>
+
+<p>"That was when I knew we couldn't," replied Eustace, scarcely
+thinking what he was saying.</p>
+
+<p>"What a funny thing to say," said Nesta. "But you <em>do</em> still want
+to go, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you are a queer boy," said Nesta in rather a disgusted tone.
+"I call that silly."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I know just what Eustace means," said Miss Chase quietly.
+"He wants to get there without going&mdash;to be there without leaving
+home. It is how I felt about coming here."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand a bit," said Nesta, with a shake of her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I do," said Bob. "One knows what one is leaving, but one doesn't
+know what one is going to. It is a toss-up whether there is to be
+any happiness in the venture. But I prophesy the witch will see to
+it you don't want to come back in a hurry. You'll enjoy yourself no
+end."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Bob," exclaimed Nesta in astonishment, "how you have changed!
+That is all the opposite to what you have always said before."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it?" said Bob lamely. "Well, I suppose I must be bewitched too.
+What do you expect when you will import such things into the
+country?"</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span><a name="xiv" id="xiv"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br />
+
+<small>A MOONLIGHT DISTURBANCE.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap2">Aunt Dorothy's cows" became as great a family joke as "Aunt
+Dorothy's lunatics;" indeed, scarcely a day passed that the
+household was not amused by some quaint mistake of hers. Every one
+chaffed her, especially Bob; and as the two patients rapidly
+recovered, the house-party was a merry one. In spite of the thought
+of parting with his family so soon, Mr. Orban was in much better
+spirits; the cane had been safely cut, the good crop had been
+spoiled neither by fire nor the rainy season coming too soon, and
+the crushing was well in progress.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear," exclaimed Nesta one morning at breakfast, "I am so sorry
+you are getting well, Bob."</p>
+
+<p>"Very kind of you, I'm sure," said Bob with deliberate politeness.
+"One is always so glad of one's friends' good wishes."</p>
+
+<p>Every one laughed except Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know what I mean," she said. "Of course the minute you
+are well you will go, and the house will be duller than ever
+without you."</p>
+
+<p>"Very prettily put for the rest of us, dear," said Miss Chase. "I
+am sure we feel much complimented."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you mean," said Nesta in bewilderment. "I didn't
+mean to compliment any one."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>"You achieved it, however," said Bob. "You called them a pack of
+dull dogs not fit to live with. Of course they feel charmed with
+your opinion."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I didn't," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"You inferred it," said Miss Chase. "However, we forgive you.
+Fortunately we shan't be able to die of dullness entirely, because
+there will be so much to be done preparing for the voyage."</p>
+
+<p>"I vote Bob stays with us till we go," said Eustace.&mdash;"He would be
+jolly useful, wouldn't he, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Really, Eustace," remonstrated Mrs. Orban with a laugh, "I am
+ashamed of you. Is that the way you treat your friends?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace reddened and looked uncomfortable as the laugh went round.
+Glancing deprecatingly at Bob, he found that he was not even
+smiling. It did seem a cheeky way of putting it.</p>
+
+<p>"I beg your pardon," he began, when Bob interrupted quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't. I was only thinking what a jolly thing you had said.
+What are friends for if they are not to be made use of?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is rather a dangerous theory to propound," said Mr. Orban.
+"Supposing your friends take advantage of it&mdash;what then?"</p>
+
+<p>"A real friend never would take advantage of it," said Bob with
+certainty; "that is just how you can test him. The chap who will
+take nothing from you, but only give, is a patronizing bounder; the
+fellow who will give nothing to you, but only take, is a mean
+beggar; the man who will give and take equally is your chum. Hold
+on to him when you've got him."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>"An excellent definition, Bob," said Mr. Orban, with a genial
+smile. "We shall certainly never let you go."</p>
+
+<p>There was a second's pause, then Bob said quietly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, sir. I guess I shall hold on to all of you too."</p>
+
+<p>It took Nesta to the end of breakfast to unravel the meaning of the
+sudden gravity that had fallen over the party, and then she was not
+sure of herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you silly," said Eustace, to whom she appealed in private,
+"don't you see?&mdash;Father as good as said it&mdash;Bob is the right kind
+of chap to have for a chum. And so he is. I guess I know that
+better than any one."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why you should," exclaimed Nesta jealously. "We all
+know Bob; he isn't anybody's in particular. He said himself he
+meant to hold on to <em>all</em> of us, not just one person only."</p>
+
+<p>Her tone was "snubby" in the extreme, but Eustace was utterly
+silent for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta did not know it; he would never know it himself; but there
+was a big difference in Eustace nowadays. He had not gone through
+great experiences untouched; some things in life leave an indelible
+impression.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "I'm glad he said that."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta was so astonished at getting no response to her assertion
+that she exclaimed,&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Said what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that he will hold on to us," Eustace said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," Nesta remarked, again with a touch of superiority, "of
+course we all knew that without his telling us."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>Eustace eyed her with a quietness that somehow irritated the girl.
+She could not understand him at all, and nothing annoyed Nesta so
+much as to discover she was not understanding something that was
+perfectly clear to somebody else.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you know it?" she asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Eustace dreamily.</p>
+
+<p>"Then what do you mean?" Nesta demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"I was thinking about going to England," was the seemingly
+irrelevant reply.</p>
+
+<p>"What has that got to do with it?" said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything," Eustace said. "If we had been going to stay here for
+ever and ever I shouldn't have thought so much about it. As it is,
+it means a lot that good old Bob won't forget us."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, how stupid you are to-day," Nesta exclaimed. "Did you think
+he might in 'a year and a day,' as mother calls it?"</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know it will be only 'a year and a day'?" Eustace said
+almost roughly. "How do you know we shall ever come back?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace!" cried Nesta, staring at him as if she thought he must
+have suddenly gone mad.</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" he said briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"But this is home&mdash;and father is staying here," the girl argued.
+"We couldn't stay in England for ever."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," said Eustace. "I've got an awfully queer feeling
+about going ever since it was settled. And it seems to me Bob has
+it too."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, stuff!" said Nesta bracingly. "Bob only says it to tease Aunt
+Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>"He said just the same things before Aunt Dorothy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> came," was the
+response. "That is nothing to go by."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, neither are your queer feelings," said Nesta. "I haven't
+any. I don't see why we should stay in England. What is to make
+us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we were left there to go to school?" suggested Eustace,
+watching her narrowly.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta stared at him blankly. It was evidently a new idea to her.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think we might be?" she said; then her expression broke,
+and she smiled. "It would be just splendid, wouldn't it?" she
+added.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was silent a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't mind leaving Trixy?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I should come back again," Nesta answered, feeling somehow
+annoyingly rebuked, "and I should have such loads and shoals of
+things to tell her and show her. All about the girls and my
+clothes, you know&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," exclaimed Eustace in a tone of disgust, "that is all girls
+care about&mdash;talking, and showing off."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't," Nesta said quickly. "I should like the learning."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I shouldn't," admitted Eustace frankly; "I hate learning. It
+is only games that make school worth going to, and that isn't
+enough to make up for other things."</p>
+
+<p>"What other things?" asked Nesta curiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, never mind," said Eustace impatiently; "I don't want to talk
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>But Nesta did exceedingly; she wanted to talk of nothing else; till
+at last Eustace went off in desperation down the hill to watch the
+sugar crushing,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> saying something about, "It isn't as if people
+could come back to Queensland for the holidays," and "Everything
+would be different when they were all grown up."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what is the matter with him," Nesta said to herself
+in perplexity. "I do believe he doesn't want to go at all. And I'm
+sure he is wrong about our staying there. No such luck!"</p>
+
+<p>Bob did stay on after he was quite well and strong, and he entirely
+justified Eustace's prophecy. He proved most useful; nothing
+apparently could have been done without him. "But for Bob," said
+Mrs. Orban, "I don't believe we should ever be ready in time."</p>
+
+<p>It was he who saw to the soundness of the travelling boxes, to the
+making of a packing case; he who had advice and assistance to give
+to every one, and who was certainly the life and spirit of the
+party in the evenings when other people seemed tired or out of
+heart. Eustace was not at all in good form. Mrs. Orban was at times
+inclined to have grave misgivings as to the wisdom of the step, and
+of course felt leaving her husband. Mr. Orban himself, though he
+insisted on the trip, was naturally a little sad at the prospect.
+Even Aunt Dorothy&mdash;the witch&mdash;had her moments of sadness that her
+visit should be drawing so rapidly to a close. Only to Nesta and
+Peter did the time seem to drag and hang heavy, as if it would
+never pass.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to come back with them, Miss Chase," said Bob a few
+evenings before the great departure.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could," she said; "but I am quite sure mother and father
+won't see the force of that."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>"Well, I think you ought to&mdash;don't you, Mrs. Orban?" Bob said.
+"Miss Chase hasn't had half enough Colonial experiences yet."</p>
+
+<p>"The few you have given me have been sufficiently vivid to count
+for a good many though," said the girl merrily. "I don't know that
+I really want any more."</p>
+
+<p>"One doesn't always want what is good for one," said Bob. "Besides,
+there is another way of looking at it&mdash;isn't there, Nesta? It has
+been proved you are a witch. You ought to be brought back by main
+force to be punished for whisking these good people all off to
+England with you."</p>
+
+<p>"So she ought," said Nesta gleefully. "She must be burned at the
+stake. We'll make you come."</p>
+
+<p>"We will, Aunt Dorothy," cried Peter, ready for the fray; "and if
+you won't, we'll get Bob to come and fetch you."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you really, Peter Perky?" retorted Aunt Dorothy. "I should
+like to see you. Why, Mr. Cochrane wouldn't set his nose inside
+England for all the witches in the world."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, no, perhaps not for all the witches in the world," said Bob
+thoughtfully; "they might prove rather too much for me. But what a
+lot of nonsense we talk, to be sure."</p>
+
+<p>The nonsense had the effect of sending Miss Chase to bed quite
+unusually meditative, and, do what she would, she could not get off
+to sleep for wondering whether she ever would come back to
+Queensland again. It seemed of all things most impossible, and yet,
+as she argued, who would ever have thought of her coming at all
+this time only a year ago?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>She had become accustomed to most of the night sounds that had at
+first puzzled and sometimes frightened her, and by day there was
+something about the life that delighted her&mdash;it was so free, such
+an open air existence! "They seem to me to sweep all their worries
+with the dust over the edge of the veranda," she thought. "I think
+England will feel a little stiff and shut in after it."</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright moonlight night. A deluded cock at about midnight
+awoke and fancied it must be day. He crowed so loudly over his
+discovery that he roused a great enemy of his, who replied in husky
+irritation and no measured terms that he was a fool. But the
+mischief was done&mdash;some half-dozen young cockerels took the matter
+up as a joke, and crowed persistently in spite of all remonstrance
+from the rest of the poultry.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase put her head under the bedclothes and tried to shut out
+the sound, but in vain. Besides, it was far too hot to sleep with a
+buried nose and mouth. Resolutely keeping her eyes tight shut, she
+set her mind upon nothing but sleep. She must have lain like that
+for quite ten minutes, when suddenly her eyes unclosed in spite of
+her, just as if they were worked by a spring, and she was as wide
+awake as ever. At least so she fancied the first instant, but the
+next she thought she must be dreaming. There had been no
+sound&mdash;nothing but Nesta's regular breathing&mdash;and yet at the other
+side of the room, standing with his back towards her, was the
+figure of a man.</p>
+
+<p>Her first impulse was to call out, her second prompted caution, and
+she pinched herself hard to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> make sure whether she was awake or
+not. There was no doubt about it&mdash;she was not asleep; the pinch
+hurt considerably, and the man was still there. He was apparently
+examining the things on her dressing-table minutely, and she
+guessed he was looking for valuables. Knowing the story of the dark
+visitor who had frightened every one so before her arrival, Miss
+Chase had followed the general rule and left nothing of any value
+lying about, though no one thought a thief would venture into the
+house now that it was so full. Here he certainly was, however, and
+the question was, "What ought she to do?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase lay absolutely still, her heart beating to suffocation,
+her mind working rapidly. There was no saying that this was the
+same man. He might be of a much more desperate and vicious
+character. Had she been alone she might have risked screaming for
+help, but there was also Nesta to be considered; she dared not
+expose the child to a knock on the head to silence her.</p>
+
+<p>The man took a slow tour of the room, peering into nooks and
+corners in a stealthy, silent way that was most eerie to watch.
+Miss Chase bore it until at last he went towards Nesta's bed with
+that cat-like, sinister gait. The horror of his approaching the
+helpless sleeper at the other side of the room was too much for the
+girl's strained nerves. His back was towards her; he fancied her
+asleep. Slipping her hand under her pillow she drew out a small
+revolver, then sat up softly and took careful aim. There was a
+report, a howl of fear and pain, and the man turned to gaze wildly
+round the room. Nesta sprang from her bed with a terrified yell and
+rushed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> to her aunt, who sat, still pointing her weapon at the
+intruder, with a look of grim determination in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>With a heavy groan the man started towards the window, limping
+pitifully. He disappeared out on to the veranda, leaving a trail of
+blood across the uncarpeted floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Now go for your father," said Miss Chase, giving the trembling
+girl a push. "Tell him what has happened."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta needed no second bidding, but she had not reached the door
+before it opened and Mr. Orban dashed in.</p>
+
+<p>"Through there," said Miss Chase, pointing towards the window.
+"Follow the blood track. He can't go fast. I winged him."</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span><a name="xv" id="xv"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br />
+
+<small>WHO IS IN THE BOAT?</small></h2>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 8px;">
+<img src="images/quote.png" width="8" height="7" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="cap2">Really, Miss Chase," said Bob next morning, "I'm glad you didn't
+burst all your accomplishments on us at once. We might have been
+rather frightened of you."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase smiled. She was looking very pale, and unlike her usual
+bright self.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope I didn't do an awfully wrong thing," she said nervously;
+"but I had only two definite ideas&mdash;one was to save Nesta, the
+other not to let the man get away."</p>
+
+<p>"You were perfectly right, Dorothy," Mr. Orban said; "there would
+never have been any end to the worry until he was caught. He may
+thank his stars I didn't find him out. I should not have been so
+merciful."</p>
+
+<p>"So that is why you aimed at his ankle, Aunt Dorothy?" said
+Eustace. "It was clever of you to think of laming him."</p>
+
+<p>"She says she did," said Bob, the tease.&mdash;"But are you quite sure,
+Miss Chase, that you really didn't aim at his head? For most women
+his ankle would have been wonderfully near the mark."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall treat the aspersion with silent contempt," laughed Miss
+Chase.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>"Where did you learn to shoot like that, Dorothy?" asked Mrs.
+Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I've patronized every shooting gallery that has come to the
+village for the last eighteen years, I should think," was the
+answer. "But, do you know, I feel most awfully remorseful about
+that poor fellow. He will be lame for a long time."</p>
+
+<p>In the kitchen sat Manuel, the stable-boy, his leg bandaged and
+resting on a chair; for the midnight visitor on both occasions had
+been no other. He confessed to the first performance quite readily,
+and declared that this second had been at the instigation of Sinkum
+Fung, who promised always to get the reward for stolen goods, and
+give him half. Mr. Orban was not sorry to get hold of some definite
+reason for turning Sinkum Fung out of the place. He had long
+suspected him to be a cheat, and he wanted an Englishman in the
+store. But Manuel, when he was well, was to be allowed to retrieve
+his character, as he protested vehemently he would.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't worry about Manuel," said Bob. "We shall all be coming
+to you to shoot us, if you'll just bind us up as beautifully
+afterwards. Did you learn that in the shooting galleries too, in
+case you put the showman's eye out?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Chase really did treat this speech with silent scorn, and
+changed the subject.</p>
+
+<p>The clearing up of the black-fellow mystery was a great relief to
+every one's mind.</p>
+
+<p>"Though it comes rather late in the day, just when we are going
+away," said Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, I don't feel a bit as if we were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> really going," Miss
+Chase declared the very evening before their departure.</p>
+
+<p>All the same, when the next day came, they started in the
+plantation schooner for Cooktown, accompanied by Bob and Mr. Orban,
+who were going to see them off.</p>
+
+<p>The children found many excitements on the way; and when finally
+they were hoisted on board the big boat by means of a crane and
+basket, Peter's joy knew no bounds.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta found it was certainly not very nice saying the last
+"good-byes," and she wished Eustace had not said anything to her
+about the possibility of not coming back to Queensland for years.</p>
+
+<p>But when they were fairly off, and out of sight of waving hands and
+the two strong, kind faces that had been his ideals from his
+babyhood, even Eustace began to cheer up considerably. He had been
+very much like a bear with a sore head, rather to his mother's and
+Miss Chase's astonishment; for Eustace could generally be counted
+on as sensible and fairly serene in temper. To get short answers
+from him, to find him unreasonably uninterested in things, and to
+see him really snappy with Nesta and Peter, was something new and
+extraordinary.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, good-bye, old chap," said Bob. "Let England see the best
+side of you, and be a credit to us."</p>
+
+<p>The words rang in the boy's ears long after, and he pulled himself
+together with a sudden consciousness that he had not been much of a
+credit to any one for some days. He hoped Bob hadn't noticed it,
+for never, never could he explain to him that it was just the
+thought of leaving him that made going away so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> hard. If only he
+had not been possessed by the horrible feeling that he would never
+come back again, or at least not for years and years, it would have
+been different.</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible not to become interested in the boat before very
+long&mdash;it was so huge, such a real house afloat, and so unusual.
+Peter revelled in going downstairs to bed. Becky wanted to play in
+what she called her "bunky-bye" instead of going to sleep. Nesta
+eyed some other families of children speculatively, wondering how
+much good they would prove as friends on the voyage. But Eustace
+only wanted to talk to the officers, especially the captain, of
+whom he determined to ask hundreds of questions about the
+machinery, how he knew his way, and the exact time the boat would
+reach every port, just to be able to check it off, and see how far
+he was right in his estimates.</p>
+
+<p>The first day was a lovely one&mdash;a less likely one to be productive
+of adventures could scarcely be imagined.</p>
+
+<p>"Calm as a duck-pond, isn't it, sir?" said one of the seamen to
+Eustace, who stood staring out to sea. "Yet I've seen some storms
+here too. It's a nasty bit of coast, with some ugly reefs about."</p>
+
+<p>"Are there many wrecks here?" asked Eustace with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"A goodish few," said the seaman; "but one doesn't look for them
+this kind of weather."</p>
+
+<p>"No, of course not," said Eustace, with a great show of certainty,
+for he did not want the man to imagine he was scaring him.</p>
+
+<p>Peter had been fairly irrepressible all day. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> was always a
+fidget&mdash;made on springs, his father said&mdash;and the excitement
+carried him away entirely. He talked to every one indiscriminately,
+especially if they happened to be in uniform, and had no shyness in
+asking questions. He had a dozen friends in a very few hours.
+Afraid lest he should weary people, Mrs. Orban tried to keep him
+with her, and towards evening she said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You might play with poor Becky a little, Peter. She will have to
+go to bed very soon, and I think it has been a duller day for her
+than for any one else."</p>
+
+<p>Which was probably true, as Becky was too tiny to have the
+sustained interest in things the others had.</p>
+
+<p>So Peter began a game of romps with Becky, which at first consisted
+of careering round and round and in and out between their mother's
+and aunt's chairs, Peter making the reiterated assertion, "I'll
+catch you, I'll catch you," Becky retorting with delighted
+chuckles, "Oo can't, oo can't!"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban was just congratulating herself that Becky would be
+delightfully sleepy after the exercise, when the child made a
+sudden dive away from the chairs in her excitement, Peter behind
+her. The next minute she was rolling head over heels down the
+companion-ladder, down which it had evidently been her intention to
+go right side up, for a joke.</p>
+
+<p>The yells that proceeded from the passage below assured every one
+that Becky was not killed; but when she was picked up it was
+discovered that one poor little wrist was terribly sprained. She
+must have fallen with it doubled under her. To put her to bed in
+such pain was out of the question; her mother's arms was the only
+place in which she could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> find any rest. So Mrs. Orban remained on
+deck in the cool with Miss Chase near her. The children's bedtime
+was quite forgotten; in fact, after the doctor had examined Becky
+and reported on her injuries, Nesta, Eustace, and Peter had
+disappeared&mdash;probably out of range of orders to go to bed. Their
+mother, when she gave them a thought, supposed them to be all
+together, and in her anxiety over Becky never realized how late it
+was getting.</p>
+
+<p>It was quite dark. All the other children had disappeared. Most of
+the grown-ups who had begun the voyage together, and were friendly
+by now, were in the music-room below having a concert. The ship was
+utterly still but for the throb of the engines and the "swish" of
+the water as the bows cut through it. They were running at full
+speed, without a pitch or a roll, the sea as clear as glass, when
+all of a sudden there was an awful crash, and the boat shuddered
+from bow to stern.</p>
+
+<p>In an instant the peaceful scene was changed to one of wildest
+confusion. There were cries of terror, hurried questions, rapid
+orders, the crew dashing hither and thither, and a stream of
+horror-stricken people began swarming up from below. It was awful,
+the intense darkness of the night adding to the confusion
+immeasurably.</p>
+
+<p>"We've struck on a rock," Mrs. Orban heard some one say. "There
+isn't a minute to lose."</p>
+
+<p>"Man the boats!" called a strident voice, and there was a running
+of ropes over pulleys, a creaking and a splashing not far away.</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are, ma'am," a seaman said, taking her by the arm.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>"Oh, the children!" said Mrs. Orban, holding back.</p>
+
+<p>"We're here, mother," said Nesta's voice at her elbow.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see to them, ma'am," said the seaman; "you and the little
+one first."</p>
+
+<p>He was almost rough in his kindness; and Mrs. Orban found herself
+swinging down into the boat below before she had time to make any
+protestations.</p>
+
+<p>One after another, through pitch darkness into the only chance for
+safety, people were sent down. It was impossible to know who
+came&mdash;nothing could be seen or heard. The seamen above could not
+stop to pick and choose, but whoever they could lay hands on went.</p>
+
+<p>Then came a hoarse cry&mdash;the boat was becoming overcrowded, the crew
+pushed off, and away they went with a bound at every stroke of the
+oars. To Mrs. Orban it was a hideous nightmare of awful anxiety.
+She could not tell whether all her children and her sister were
+with her or not. Her one ray of hope was that as they had
+apparently been all standing close together, the others must have
+been put in after her. But people had rushed so the moment they
+knew the boats were lowered, there was an awful possibility the
+children had been swept aside. They were certainly not near her,
+for she called their names and Dorothy's again and again, and there
+was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>The men had not been rowing for seven minutes when there was a
+sudden awful sound behind them, and the boat plunged and rocked as
+if she were a living thing gone mad with terror.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>"Oh, what was that?" Mrs. Orban cried, and the question ran from
+mouth to mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"The ship," answered a solemn voice with a break in it; "she's gone
+under, poor thing. Must have been ripped from bows to stern."</p>
+
+<p>The silence that followed was dreadful. How many boats had got
+away? Who was left on board? There was not one in the boat who had
+not a thought of agonized pity for the poor souls left behind.</p>
+
+<p>It was so unexpected; every one was so unprepared. Who could
+suppose that with a sea as calm as a mill-pond a great vessel could
+strike on a rock and sink in less than seven minutes?</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards, when the matter came to be investigated, it was
+discovered that the <em>Cora</em> had run on to a coral reef unmarked in
+the charts. Coral reefs form with extraordinary rapidity, and are
+infinitely dangerous, because they are so sharp as to cut like
+razors. The loss of the <em>Cora</em> was no one's fault; but that fact
+was of but little comfort to those whose friends went down in her.</p>
+
+<p>The boat pulled steadily on awhile, then paused, for no one could
+be certain where she lay as regarded the shore.</p>
+
+<p>"Easy, mates," said the man in command. "We must hang about till
+there's a gleam of light to give us our bearings, or we shall go
+down like that poor thing over there."</p>
+
+<p>In the hush that fell it was possible to hear each other speak.
+People began to question who was in the boat with them.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace, Nesta, Peter, are you there?" cried Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>"Yes, mother; yes, mother," she heard, and her heart bounded with
+thankfulness.</p>
+
+<p>"And you, Dorothy?" she forced herself to say.</p>
+
+<p>But to this there was no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Children," Mrs. Orban said, "isn't your aunt there?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Eustace said; "she wouldn't come before us."</p>
+
+<p>There could be no doubt that Miss Chase was not there.</p>
+
+<p>The first streak of daylight fell upon a boatload of haggard men
+and women, afraid of, yet longing for, the day. It was discovered
+that they had come within half a mile of shore, and the crew pulled
+with a will till they beached the boat. One after another in the
+shadowy gloom the stiff, cramped figures landed. There were
+meetings, but no open rejoicings, because of those others left
+behind.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace and Nesta clung to their mother, half sobbing.</p>
+
+<p>"And Peter," she said&mdash;"where is Peter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Peter?" said the other two blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you said he was there?" said Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we answered for ourselves," faltered Eustace. "I didn't notice
+he didn't speak."</p>
+
+<p>The boat was empty now. Groups of shivering, unstrung people stood
+about, utterly incapable of thinking what to do next. But Peter was
+not there&mdash;nor was Dorothy.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span><a name="xvi" id="xvi"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br />
+
+<small>WHAT THE TIDE BROUGHT IN.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">The stranded party was much in need of a leader till one of the
+crew volunteered the information that some miles higher up the
+coast there was a b&ecirc;che-de-mer station where they would probably
+get some means of communicating with the rest of the world, and at
+least find food, of which every one was much in need. B&ecirc;che-de-mer
+fisheries are a feature of the coast, the b&ecirc;che-de-mer being a huge
+sea-slug, thought to be a great delicacy.</p>
+
+<p>This particular station was owned by some half-caste Portuguese,
+and worked by a mixture of aborigines and Malays, a most
+unpromising and ruffianly-looking set. However, they received the
+unhappy boatload quite civilly, promised that a messenger should be
+dispatched across country to the nearest civilized centre, and
+provided a good meal of salt junk, sweet potatoes, rice, and tea.
+It did not matter to the exhausted men and women that they had to
+eat off tin plates, drink out of tin pannikins, and that the food
+was more roughly prepared and served than any they had ever tasted
+before.</p>
+
+<p>They camped under some trees for the meal; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> many sad eyes
+looked towards the great calm sea, where not a trace of last
+night's tragedy was to be seen. In the distance there was the sail
+of an outgoing vessel&mdash;one of the b&ecirc;che-de-mer boats off on a
+several months' trip. Besides that, there was just one tiny speck,
+not so far out as the sail, but much smaller.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a boat," said the captain of the station, a swarthy
+Portuguese. He had been watching the speck for some time through a
+telescope. "So far as I can make out it is something of the same
+build as yours."</p>
+
+<p>There was instant excitement. Could it be another of the ship's
+boats?</p>
+
+<p>It seemed an eternity before the boat came close enough to discover
+that she did indeed belong to the ill-fated <em>Cora</em>. The crowd on
+the beach was speechless before she pulled in to shore and her
+worn-out occupants were disembarked.</p>
+
+<p>Amongst the anxious watchers were Mrs. Orban, with the fretful,
+feverish Becky in her arms, and Nesta and Eustace. But though they
+pressed forward and saw every man, woman, and child that landed,
+there was no comfort for them. Miss Chase and Peter had not come.
+There was but one interpretation to put on this&mdash;they had never
+left the ship.</p>
+
+<p>"Any more boats likely to come?" asked a woman whose husband was
+missing.</p>
+
+<p>"No, lady," said a sailor, shaking his head pitifully. "They only
+got one more out, and she was overcrowded and swamped. There was no
+time for anything."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>There is no describing the misery of the day that followed&mdash;the
+terrible blankness for many, the haunting recollection that all had
+of the nightmare experience.</p>
+
+<p>The men at the station were as kind as they could be in their rough
+way. The sailors who had manned the boats set to work to arrange
+some comforts for the women and children, improvising hammocks for
+them to lie in, as sleeping in the grass was dangerous on account
+of snakes and other disagreeables.</p>
+
+<p>Poor little Becky spent a day of weeping, for her wrist was very
+painful. She needed all Mrs. Orban's attention, which was perhaps
+fortunate for the poor lady&mdash;it gave her less time for brooding
+over her terrible loss. Nesta cried herself nearly silly, and then
+fell asleep in a hammock that a kindly old sailor prevailed on her
+to try.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was too restless to settle down. He spent his time hovering
+about his white-faced, desolate-looking mother. The moment inaction
+began to tell on him and make him feel sleepy he went away for a
+while, and paced up and down by the water's edge to rouse himself.
+However useless his presence, he could not bear to leave his mother
+lonely and unwatched; it seemed heartless to forget her and her
+sorrows in sleep when she could take no rest.</p>
+
+<p>"She might want something, or perhaps she would like to speak," he
+argued, "or she may cry presently; and there mustn't be no one to
+comfort her."</p>
+
+<p>But Mrs. Orban asked for nothing for herself, only water now and
+then to bandage Becky's wrist. She took the food when it was given
+her, but ate very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> little. Whatever she was thinking about, she did
+not speak of her trouble, but inquired after Nesta, and whether she
+and Eustace had had plenty of food and felt no symptoms of chill or
+fever.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish father or Bob would come quick," thought the boy
+helplessly; "we're no good. She is only thinking about taking care
+of us all the time; and I don't know how to look after her. It
+would have been better if I had been drowned instead of Aunt
+Dorothy; she would have known what to do."</p>
+
+<p>He was doing one of his violent pacings up and down, and every turn
+backwards or forwards he had to change his course, for the tide was
+running in fast. The sea fascinated him; he could not help watching
+it, especially now when all sorts of bits of wreckage were
+beginning to float in&mdash;lengths of rope, a life-belt or two, and
+things belonging to the <em>Cora's</em> deck. The men from the station
+were watching with the sailors and hauling things in to land.</p>
+
+<p>"Any bodies that went down will be carried by the under current
+into the next bay," Eustace heard the b&ecirc;che-de-mer owner explaining
+to the <em>Cora's</em> crew.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my name's not Swaine," said an old sailor with a telescope,
+"if that isn't one coming now."</p>
+
+<p>There was a thrill of excitement, an immediate demand for the
+telescope, as every one pressed forward.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be a broken spar," said the b&ecirc;che-de-mer captain. "I've
+been here fifteen years and there's never such a thing happened
+yet."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going out in one of the boats, mate," said the old sailor
+resolutely. "Who is coming with me?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>There were many volunteers at once, and the boat was launched.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace remained as if frozen to the spot. He could just see the
+log-like thing lying upon the water, gently tossed by the tiny
+waves that were slowly, slowly bearing it to shore. It certainly
+looked no bigger than a broken spar, and very much that shape as,
+the boat drawn up alongside, two sailors leant over and lifted it
+in.</p>
+
+<p>It was all Eustace could do to make himself stay until the boat's
+return, and he covered his face as the burden was gently lifted
+ashore.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right, youngster," said a kindly voice at his elbow, one
+of the older sailors; "he is alive&mdash;only unconscious. It's a
+miracle; but there, miracles do happen, say what you will."</p>
+
+<p>The news made all the difference to Eustace, and he pressed round
+with the rest.</p>
+
+<p>"Here," said one of the <em>Cora's</em> crew, catching sight of him
+suddenly, "make way for this laddie&mdash;it's his own brother."</p>
+
+<p>In utter bewilderment Eustace felt himself forced to the centre of
+the crowd, and there, with a man kneeling beside him trying
+restoratives, lay Peter, with a life-belt round him, his face
+ashen, and his fair hair all sodden&mdash;but he was living. They said
+he was alive, but certainly he did not look it.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace turned, fought his way madly through the press, and dashed
+up the beach straight to the trees where his mother sat bending
+over Becky.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush," she said warningly; "I am just getting her off to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>The quiet voice pulled the boy up just in time,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> before he had
+blurted out his news in all its crudeness.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," he said instead, "let me hold Becky&mdash;I can really. Peter
+will want you."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban neither started nor changed colour; she just stared at
+Eustace curiously, and said inquiringly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Peter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mummie, Peter," Eustace said in a shaking voice. "He is
+unconscious, but he will want you when he opens his eyes."</p>
+
+<p>He held out his arms for Becky; and Mrs. Orban rose and went as if
+she were dreaming, leaving him standing there with the baby.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very long time before Peter knew that he wanted his
+mother. Terror and the exposure in the water for so many hours had
+done their work, and even when the little fellow recovered
+consciousness he was too ill to realize anything at all.</p>
+
+<p>Every one was very kind to the Orbans. The poor lady who had lost
+her husband took entire charge of Becky; other fellow-passengers
+offered to help with Peter, who needed nursing night and day. The
+survivors from the wreck clung together, and found some comfort in
+helping each other. The people of the station were very attentive
+and good; but the relief party from Cooktown was hailed with
+thankfulness, for there were of course many discomforts and
+unpleasantnesses. The blacks had a disagreeable habit of prowling
+about in the night and peeping at their guests as they tried to
+sleep in the impromptu hammocks. The food was coarse and
+monotonous; the men rough, and uncouth in their ways.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>When Eustace saw his father he felt a great burden lifted from his
+shoulders; his powerlessness to help his mother did not matter any
+more; no one could comfort her like his father. Then there was Bob;
+he would help the whole family to keep up in his usual splendid
+way!</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately Mr. Orban and Bob had not yet left Cooktown when the
+news of the disaster arrived. They hastened to the b&ecirc;che-de-mer
+station on getting Mrs. Orban's message, without the least
+knowledge whom they would find of their own party; and after the
+first explanations were over, no one could speak of the cloud
+shadowing the joy of meeting. To Eustace's infinite surprise, Bob,
+to whom he had looked for so much, failed him utterly&mdash;he could not
+rouse himself, let alone other people.</p>
+
+<p>The survivors of the wrecked <em>Cora</em> were carried by steamer to
+Cooktown, and Mr. Orban took his family to the best hotel, for no
+plans could be made till Peter was better.</p>
+
+<p>Alone with Eustace, Nesta gave vent to her feelings very often.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace," she said, "wasn't it queer Aunt Dorothy saying the very
+day before we left she didn't feel a bit as if we were going to
+England? Do you remember?"</p>
+
+<p>Eustace replied with a kind of grunt. He had not words for every
+emotion as Nesta had.</p>
+
+<p>"And it seems so horrid," she proceeded chokily, "to know nothing
+about what happened to her or even how it happened. If only some
+one could tell us!"</p>
+
+<p>"What's the good of talking when no one can?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> said Eustace
+gruffly. "I can't think why you do. You only make yourself cry."</p>
+
+<p>The first person to speak of Miss Chase without tears was Peter. He
+was lying in their private sitting-room, and suddenly he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I say, where's Aunt Dorothy?"</p>
+
+<p>He had asked before, but in his weakness the subject had easily
+been changed.</p>
+
+<p>"She is not here, dear," said Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"That's funny," said Peter, in his old talkative way; "she
+distinctly said she was coming."</p>
+
+<p>Bob got up from a deep chair and stood, with his back to the room,
+looking out of the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Did she, Peter?" said Mr. Orban quickly. "When?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, on the boat," said Peter; "when she put the life-belt round
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she put the life-belt round you, did she?" said Mr. Orban.
+"And what did she say?"</p>
+
+<p>Every one leant forward eagerly. It was the first time Peter had
+shown any inclination to talk, and no one had guessed he could
+possibly know anything of Miss Chase.</p>
+
+<p>"She said," was his clear reply, "'That's right, Peter Perky. Now
+mind you float; don't struggle, but lie on your back.'&mdash;Bob," he
+broke off, "lucky you taught me to float, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes," said Bob; "never mind about that. Go on about Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace stared at his back in wonder. For the first time in his
+life he heard Bob irritable.</p>
+
+<p>"She said," Peter went on obediently, "'Don't be frightened; I am
+coming too.'"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>"Well?" prompted Mr. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Then she took me up, and we jumped overboard. I don't know what
+happened next."</p>
+
+<p>"Try to think," said Bob in a hard voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't," said Peter; "everything was noise and blackness. Ask
+Aunt Dorothy; she'll tell you."</p>
+
+<p>There was a solemn hush&mdash;so solemn that Peter stared round in
+amazement at the grave faces. Bob turned and walked heavily out of
+the room. Nesta buried her head in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what's the matter?" asked Peter sharply.</p>
+
+<p>He had to be told then, and he wept as if his heart would break;
+but he could remember nothing after the jump into the sea. It
+appeared that he was all by himself at the other side of the ship,
+very unhappy because he thought it was all his fault Becky had been
+hurt. Then came the crash, and he was terrified. He was wondering
+what had happened, when Aunt Dorothy came running towards him,
+crying, "Peter, Peter, where are you?" And then followed the
+putting on of the life-belt. It was so easy to picture her talking
+to him all the time, to reassure him, in that quick, cheery way of
+hers.</p>
+
+<p>"O Eustace," Nesta said afterwards, "wasn't she splendid? I guess
+Bob must be sorry he teased her so now."</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh," said Eustace, "that was only his fun. Aunt Dorothy knew
+it."</p>
+
+<p>But Nesta could not stand teasing herself, and was sure no one
+liked or understood it.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," she said; "she used to get red sometimes. And I'm
+not so sure Bob did mean it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> all in chaff. He has a real
+down-on-anything-English. I mean to ask him some day what he thinks
+of English girls' pluck now."</p>
+
+<p>"If you do," said Eustace, with sudden ferocity, "I'll never speak
+to you again."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta stared at him in dismay.</p>
+
+<p>"Why ever?" she asked dully. "Wouldn't he like to talk about her?
+Didn't he like her, really?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like her!" Eustace exclaimed. "Oh, you little stupid! Didn't you
+see him when Peter was telling us about her? Didn't you hear Bob
+then? Can't you understand?"</p>
+
+<p>Nesta stared in blank silence for some seconds.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say!" she gasped, "I didn't know! I never thought of that!
+I&mdash;I wasn't looking at him."</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't looking at anything else," said Eustace; "but I guess he
+wouldn't like to think any one knew, so we must hold our tongues.
+But I couldn't have you going and asking him blundering questions."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't," said Nesta, with unwonted meekness. "When did you
+guess?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only then," said Eustace; "but now I can remember lots of things.
+Bob always liked talking to her better than any one. Bob didn't
+want her to go. Bob asked her to come back."</p>
+
+<p>He broke off short and slammed out of the room. It was as bad to
+think of as it had been to bear his mother's helpless loneliness;
+for as he could do nothing then for her, he could do nothing now
+for Bob.</p>
+
+<p>It was a matter of conjecture between the twins what was likely to
+happen next. They really expected that, when Peter was well enough
+for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> rough journey, they would all go back to the plantation,
+and settle down again for ever and ever.</p>
+
+<p>A telegram had been dispatched with the bad news to Mr. and Mrs.
+Chase. The reply was an urgent appeal for them all to go on as
+first intended.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving everything on the plantation in Bob's care, Mr. Orban
+decided to take his wife and family home himself. It would not be
+the joyful home-coming they had anticipated; and Mrs. Orban would
+need him, he knew.</p>
+
+<p>"We must do what we can for the poor dear old people," Mr. Orban
+explained to Bob. "Dorothy was their baby. It is a terrible loss to
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"To every one," said Bob briefly.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span><a name="xvii" id="xvii"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br />
+
+<small>MOTHER'S HOME.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">In the length and breadth of England there could hardly have been
+found a more lovely little property than Maze Court. There were
+larger houses in the neighbourhood, with more extensive grounds;
+but as Brenda Dixon stood on the terrace and gazed down towards the
+good old English park she felt a real glow of pride and pleasure in
+belonging to such a place. It was the sort of feeling she had
+whenever she brought a new school friend home for the holidays.</p>
+
+<p>Beside her stood Herbert&mdash;long, lean, and very gentlemanly in his
+flannels. It was one of his sister's great joys that he always
+looked a gentleman in everything.</p>
+
+<p>She was a striking-looking girl herself, with features a little too
+pronounced for accurate beauty; but this very fault had the effect
+of making her handsome. She had little personal vanity&mdash;mere
+features she cared nothing for&mdash;but pride of birth and of the old
+home were deeply rooted in her.</p>
+
+<p>"I think Nesta and Eustace ought to be surprised," she was
+thinking; "they won't have seen anything like it. It will seem so
+big and splendid to them after the kind of life they have had."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>Brenda was never very sure how to picture the Orbans' existence in
+Queensland. There was a touch of pettiness about it&mdash;a feeling of
+poverty and "hugger-muggerness," if one may coin such a word. The
+thought of her uncle going daily to his work in his shirt-sleeves;
+of her aunt helping in the housework; her cousins brought up just
+anyhow, without a governess or any schooling, shocked her
+sensibilities and gave vivid local colouring to her ideas about the
+Orbans. Those were the sort of details she would never have
+referred to at school.</p>
+
+<p>And now she and Herbert were waiting for the arrival of the
+travellers, whom their grandparents had driven to the station to
+meet.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear," she said with a sigh, "how I wish I didn't wish they
+weren't coming! If they are fearfully eccentric, all the
+neighbourhood will be talking about it in a week, and thinking it
+funny we have such relations. One can't explain to every one that
+they really are ladies and gentlemen gone to seed, can one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not exactly," said Herbert. "I jolly well hope you won't try; it
+would be beastly bad form. Of course if one had a fellow staying in
+the house one might have to explain."</p>
+
+<p>"I simply couldn't ask any one," Brenda said. "It would be all over
+the school next term my uncle was a common labourer, and my cousins
+savages&mdash;or something!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nice sort of friends you seem to have," said Herbert. "Is that a
+girl's usual way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Brenda, with some asperity, "boys aren't any better,
+if you should have to explain matters to a chum of yours."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>"That's different," Herbert said; "one doesn't want to give a bad
+impression. What I hope is that Eustace isn't an awful little muff.
+I expect he is, though&mdash;can't help being when he has never been
+amongst any boys. It will have to be knocked out of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Dorothy said he was a very nice little chap," Brenda quoted,
+and then her voice broke, so that she could not go on.</p>
+
+<p>It was the beginning of the summer holidays, and both she and
+Herbert were feeling the death of Miss Chase most dreadfully. It
+had been bad enough when she left before the end of the winter
+holidays. Again at Easter the dullness of the house without her had
+known no bounds. But now, when they knew she would never be with
+them again, her very name choked them; they could scarcely speak of
+her, because her absence proved at every turn all that her presence
+had meant to them and to every one. How they had hated Australia
+when she left! How much more they hated it now and everything to do
+with it&mdash;even the coming of the cousins! Australia seemed the root
+of all evil&mdash;the cause of Aunt Dorothy's death.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Dorothy was a brick," said Herbert jerkily; "she saw niceness
+in people whatever they were like. But girls don't really know when
+fellows are muffs."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know about Eustace," said Brenda, "but Nesta looked
+fearfully long-legged and queerly dressed in those snapshots Aunt
+Dorothy did."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope she won't want to kiss me when she says 'How-do-you-do,'"
+said Herbert; "that is all I mind about her. But if that kid
+Eustace fancies he is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> going to hang around with me perpetually, he
+will find himself mistaken. I couldn't be bothered."</p>
+
+<p>"But we shall have to look after them properly, and treat them just
+as we would any other visitors," Brenda said anxiously; "we can't
+sort of leave them to themselves, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," said Herbert rather testily; "what do you take me for?
+I hope I shan't behave like a cad in my own house! But that is just
+the nuisance of it: they'll be visitors without being visitors, and
+they'll be here such an awful time. Thank goodness, there will be
+term time to look forward to!"</p>
+
+<p>"If only Aunt Dorothy&mdash;" began Brenda.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shut up," said Herbert roughly. Then added more gently, "I
+think the carriage has just turned in at the park gate. Listen."</p>
+
+<p>All through the voyage Eustace and Nesta had been picturing this
+very day&mdash;this very hour. The parting with Bob and the farewell to
+home necessarily dropped into the background of their thoughts; the
+foreground was full of expectations. Now that they could realize
+they were on their way to the fulfilment of what had originally
+been the dream of their lives, all the old feeling of longing
+possessed them. At last they would see England! At last they would
+know what real "home" was like&mdash;their mother's old home, to which
+she had given them such a sense of belonging by all the tales they
+knew so well!</p>
+
+<p>That England was not what they expected was natural enough. Mrs.
+Orban had never pretended to describe England, but simply her own
+particular corner of it on the borders of Wales. Leaving the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> ship
+was all bustle and rush, but during the long train journey there
+was plenty of time to look about, and English scenery struck all
+three children as most peculiar.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's just like a map!" exclaimed Peter, as he knelt up at a
+window. "I'm certain if I was up in a balloon it would look like a
+map with all those funny little hedges."</p>
+
+<p>"I think it would look like a patchwork quilt," said Nesta.
+"Father, why do people mark their land out into such funny little
+bits?"</p>
+
+<p>So spoke the children, used to wide tracts of land without
+boundaries, hundreds of acres without fence or railing&mdash;such
+country as England boasts of in miniature only on its wildest
+moors.</p>
+
+<p>The twins were speechless and almost suffocated with excitement
+when the train at last ran into a little country station, and Mr.
+Orban said briskly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Here we are!"</p>
+
+<p>"There they are!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, with a little sob in her
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Who? who?" yelled Peter, dashing from the other side of the
+carriage.</p>
+
+<p>"Grannie and grandpapa," answered Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, where?" said Peter, as the train stopped. The children knew
+Bob Cochrane's grandfather and grandmother&mdash;a very comfortable,
+homely old pair of the typical "grannyish" type, rather bent,
+rather deaf, and always referred to as "the old people." Trixy
+invariably rushed at them when they came, and called them "the dear
+old pets."</p>
+
+<p>There was no one the least "grannyish" or cosy-looking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> on the
+platform. Only a very erect, elderly gentleman with silver hair,
+and a lady who might have been the Queen, so dignified, so stately
+was she. They were the sort of people the twins had read of but
+never seen.</p>
+
+<p>A hush fell over the children as they scrambled out of the carriage
+after their mother, and waited till their grandparents were ready
+to notice them. Then they each received a kiss and a handshake
+which made them instantly feel that nothing would be more
+impossible than to rush upon this grandfather and grandmother and
+call them either "dear," "old," or "pets."</p>
+
+<p>All through the drive in the old-fashioned waggonette the sense of
+unfamiliarity grew as the children stared&mdash;the twins furtively,
+Peter openly&mdash;at Mr. and Mrs. Chase.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to the twins such a queer arrival, and so different to
+anything they had expected, that they could scarcely believe it was
+real. "Why," thought Nesta, "the Cochranes make much more fuss over
+us when we go to see them for a day." But Eustace's thoughts were
+too confused for description.</p>
+
+<p>The conversation was funny and jerky, and just the sort of things
+strangers say to each other. Mrs. Chase hoped they were not very
+tired, and that they had had a nice journey. And Mr. Chase said it
+was a hotter summer than there had been for the last ten years, and
+so on.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh dear," thought Eustace wearily, as they drove into the park,
+"how different it would have been if Aunt Dorothy had been here!"</p>
+
+<p>But still there was the place to be interested in,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> and when his
+mother said, "This is home, Eustace," he roused himself, and looked
+about him.</p>
+
+<p>Even a Colonial child, accustomed to vastness, could not help
+admiring such a place as this, full of fine old trees spreading
+over the short cropped turf. The park was hilly, and swept away to
+right and left towards thick woods.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as the carriage reached a bend and came into full view of the
+great house, standing gray, massive, and strong in the evening
+light, the children's hearts did thrill with pride. This was
+something better than their own slenderly-built, iron-roofed house
+in Queensland.</p>
+
+<p>"There are Herbert and Brenda waiting for us," said Mrs. Chase,
+"but I don't see nurse. I have got you a charming woman as nurse
+for Becky and Peter. You can't be tied down to looking after the
+children, you know. I want you to be free to enjoy yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Peter started as if he had been shot.</p>
+
+<p>"Me have a nurse!" he exclaimed. "I don't want looking after."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace and Nesta glanced quickly at their mother. Becky with a
+nurse! This was something extraordinary. And mother "not to be tied
+down to looking after the children." When had it ever been a tie to
+mother to look after them? Such a strange idea had never occurred
+to any of them before, and all in their own separate ways resented
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chase looked at Peter in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"When I was your age," he said gravely, "I had what was given me,
+no matter what I wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"We've got to think about your mother's wants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> first," said Mrs.
+Chase, "and she deserves a holiday after all these years."</p>
+
+<p>"Quite right," said Mr. Orban; "she needs one badly. I am thankful
+she should have it."</p>
+
+<p>There was no time to say more, for just then the carriage pulled up
+under the fine old portico.</p>
+
+<p>Again there was that sense of stiffness and awkwardness as the
+Dixons came forward to greet their cousins; there was no triumphant
+entry and welcome to the old home. Mrs. Chase drew Mrs. Orban in;
+Mr. Chase took Mr. Orban; Becky, sleepy and perfectly placid, was
+whisked away by a grave-faced, elderly woman who said, "Come along,
+sir," to Peter, and disappeared through a red baize door, whither
+the little fellow had to follow.</p>
+
+<p>"We're to have meals with the little ones in the schoolroom," said
+Brenda, to whom this new rule was not pleasing. "Come and get
+ready."</p>
+
+<p>Now that she was a schoolgirl, and only home for holidays, she had
+all her meals with her grandparents except late dinner; but the
+arrival of the Orbans put an end to this. It was felt that the
+perpetual presence of such a crowd of youngsters at meals would
+never do. To Brenda and Herbert the change was typical of the whole
+difference these unwelcome guests would make in their lives.</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't we just have one look round first?" said Nesta, staring
+about her in proprietary admiration at the walls of the great hall,
+where hung the horns and weapons, the family portraits and
+trophies, of bygone Chases. "I would like just to see the secret
+chamber. Let me see&mdash;it must be through that door and up some
+steps&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>She stopped inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it isn't," Brenda said, with a look of surprise; "you go just
+the other way. But there isn't time now; Herbert and I will show
+you everything to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta looked taken aback.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't expect I shall need much showing," she said, with a little
+air of importance.</p>
+
+<p>Her cousins both stared at her.</p>
+
+<p>"You certainly will," said Herbert decidedly; "it isn't at all an
+easy house to find one's way about in, I can tell you. You would go
+blundering into all sorts of places you oughtn't to."</p>
+
+<p>"Places we oughtn't to?" repeated Eustace in bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, the servants' quarters, you know," said Herbert, as if he
+were talking to a child of eight.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you allowed to go into the servants' quarters?" asked Nesta
+wonderingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we're <em>allowed</em>, of course," said Herbert; "but one doesn't
+go. I dare say things were rather mixed out with you, though."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Eustace abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you had to rough it rather, hadn't you?" said the elder boy.
+"I had a sort of idea you all had meals together."</p>
+
+<p>"With the servants?" questioned Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Herbert, with perfect gravity.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace flushed deeply.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course," he said, "coolies and every one had meals
+together. We all ate out of a trough."</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace!" exclaimed Nesta in dismay, wondering what had happened
+to him all of a sudden.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>The cousins stared at him blankly, hardly realizing for a moment
+what he had said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it is just as sensible as saying we had meals with the
+servants," said the boy, in such a tone of disgust that Herbert was
+left in no doubt as to his meaning.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't be cheeky, youngster," he said; "you can't expect me
+to know your habits, can you? I do know people in the Colonies
+can't pick and choose their company, and have to make friends with
+cowboys and bushrangers, if they want any society."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" shouted the twins. "Who told you that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I've read it somewhere," Herbert said carelessly. "It said
+'there are no class distinctions in Colonial life. Men and women
+meet as equals.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Then it is rot," said Eustace briefly. "I don't know how you could
+believe it. Our friends were all gentlemen and ladies. Australians
+are as particular as you are whom they have for friends."</p>
+
+<p>"My good kid," said Herbert aggravatingly, "you don't know
+everything, and you haven't been everywhere in the Colonies, you
+know. But it really doesn't matter, does it? We were only saying
+one doesn't do that sort of thing in England. Come and wash for
+tea."</p>
+
+<p>The small passage of arms left neither boy much pleased with the
+other. Herbert foresaw that Eustace was likely to be uppish and
+cheeky, and would want keeping in his place. Eustace thought
+Herbert gave himself airs, and more than justified the criticism he
+had long accorded his portrait. He did not look it in real life,
+for Herbert was manly and unaffected in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> appearance. "All the
+same," thought Eustace, "he's a silly ass."</p>
+
+<p>Not so much what was said as the tone in which it was said left an
+unpleasant impression upon both new-comers. They had planned
+together that the very first thing they would do when they arrived
+would be to rush all over the house and see everything. Nesta
+declared she would not be able to sleep a wink for excitement if
+she did not. It had never occurred to them there would be barriers
+of any sort. Nothing in their own free lives hitherto had suggested
+baize doors through which they "ought not to go."</p>
+
+<p>Somehow those baize doors were suggestive of everything irksome and
+disappointing; they were of a piece with all the other changes
+which the twins began to feel from the outset.</p>
+
+<p>Before the evening was over Eustace and Nesta had grasped something
+of what coming to England really meant: it seemed a case of shut
+doors all round&mdash;there was no feeling of home about it. Rather,
+Eustace reflected bitterly, it was like prison, and all the freedom
+of existence was gone. It appeared that here the grown-ups lived in
+one part of the house, the children in another. There were certain
+times at which the drawing-room or dining-room might be visited,
+otherwise the grown-ups must not be interrupted. Becky and Peter
+were provided with a sort of jailer, whose business it also was to
+give all the young people their meals, and their mother seemed
+utterly ungetatable.</p>
+
+<p>Life on the veranda always together, always in the thick of
+everything that was going on, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> no shut doors anywhere, had
+ill-prepared them for this.</p>
+
+<p>Then there were Herbert and Brenda.</p>
+
+<p>Strange to say, Eustace and Nesta had not thought of them as
+anything but some one to play with&mdash;other children staying in the
+same house as themselves. That they were really the son and
+daughter of the place had never occurred to the new-comers. That
+they would play the part of host and hostess, and treat the
+Australians entirely as visitors, was a shock to Eustace and Nesta.
+Not thus did they expect to be received into their mother's old
+home, which she had always taught them to look on as their own.</p>
+
+<p>Before the end of the day, however, they had realized this one
+thing very vividly&mdash;Herbert and Brenda had lived here all their
+lives, but the Orbans were outsiders, their very coldly-welcomed
+guests.</p>
+
+<p>"It is delightful," said Mrs. Orban, as she dressed for dinner, "to
+think of the children getting to know each other at last. I do hope
+they will be happy."</p>
+
+<p>"All the happier for being thrown so much together," said Mr.
+Orban. "We couldn't help it, of course, but ours have been thrown
+far too much with older people. This sort of thing is much
+healthier for them."</p>
+
+<p>"It is all hateful," wept Nesta to her pillow that night. "Herbert
+is a bully, and Brenda is a stuck-up pig&mdash;and I wish we had never
+come."</p>
+
+<p>And Eustace did not close his eyes for hours.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob was quite right," he thought. "English people are horrid; they
+freeze you right up the minute you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> see them. But oh! I believe it
+would be better if only there was a veranda. They do live in such a
+queer way, all divided up like this."</p>
+
+<p>Back into his mind there came the refrain of one of Bob's
+songs&mdash;the one he had sung to Aunt Dorothy the day of her arrival.
+He went to sleep with the tune ringing in his head,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="block">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="io">"Certain for darkies dis is not de place,</span><br />
+<span class="i0">Where eben de sun am ashamed to show his face."</span><br />
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
+<a name="xviii" id="xviii"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br />
+
+<small>PETER MAKES A DIVERSION.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">But for Peter and Becky schoolroom breakfast next morning would
+have been a very dismal and quiet affair, for the elder cousins had
+little to say to each other.</p>
+
+<p>Herbert and Brenda cudgelled their brains for topics of
+conversation to keep things going, and they thought they had never
+had any one so difficult to talk to in their lives. The Australian
+cousins seemed downright stupid and uninteresting. Just for one
+thing Brenda was thankful&mdash;they were not outwardly so unpresentable
+as she had anticipated.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta, still smarting under a sense of disappointment, had made a
+sullen resolution not to appear to want to know anything at all. In
+spite of Herbert's assurances she was quite sure she did know a
+great deal about the house and grounds. Brenda and he should see
+later that she did.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace held his tongue because he had literally nothing to say
+that was at all agreeable. They had begun the day by going into
+their mother's room to say good-morning.</p>
+
+<p>"O children," she had exclaimed when she saw them, "isn't it all
+lovely?"</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>"It is, mummie," began Nesta in such a miserable voice that Eustace
+knew she was going on with a "but."</p>
+
+<p>There were tears of joy in Mrs. Orban's eyes. To her at least
+everything was perfect. Eustace was standing close to Nesta, and he
+gave her a surreptitious pinch that just nipped the complaint right
+off before the "but" could come out.</p>
+
+<p>"It is ripping, mother," he said. "I never thought it would be half
+so splendid."</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you would love it," said Mrs. Orban confidently; "and it is
+so jolly for you having Brenda and Herbert. If only&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped, and her face had grown suddenly sad. There was always
+that "if only." The twins knew she was thinking of Aunt Dorothy.</p>
+
+<p>"Look here, Nesta," said Eustace in a low voice when they left the
+room, "don't you go grumbling to mother and spoiling everything for
+her, or you will be a selfish little pig."</p>
+
+<p>"But when things are horrid&mdash;" began Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"It won't make them better to worry her," said Eustace shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"But how could you say it is splendid?" Nesta said with a choke.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, isn't it?" said Eustace. "I was thinking about the house and
+the park. It was not the people mother told us about before we
+came, but the place."</p>
+
+<p>"Grannie and grandfather are not a bit like what I thought," Nesta
+remarked in an aggrieved tone.</p>
+
+<p>"They are very beautiful," said Eustace in an awed voice. "They
+somehow match the house and everything in it, and it seems to make
+them much too grand for us."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>"I know Herbert and Brenda think <em>themselves</em> much too grand for
+us," said Nesta crossly. "Fancy their thinking such silly things
+about the way we lived, just as if we weren't ladies and gentlemen!
+Why, last night, when Brenda told me we were to go in to dessert,
+she said, 'You know people always dress for dinner in England,' in
+that snubby way of hers; and I laughed right out, and said,
+'Goodness, father and mother dress for dinner every night at
+home.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I think they fancy we are sort of savages," said Eustace. "It
+makes me feel inclined to be one, and give them a shock."</p>
+
+<p>Dessert the evening before had proved a very dull affair, and the
+time in the drawing-room afterwards, playing halma with the
+cousins, was worse. They all four hailed bedtime with thankfulness.
+Never before had Eustace and Nesta felt so shut in&mdash;so pinned down
+and overawed. Never, thought Herbert and Brenda, had they met such
+queer, unresponsive children.</p>
+
+<p>At breakfast they found Becky entirely at home with her keeper, who
+had a grave kind of way of smiling down upon the small person and
+Peter.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better come and see the house now," said Herbert
+immediately after breakfast. "I'm going off rabbit-shooting later."</p>
+
+<p>"Not you, Master Peter," said nurse as Peter shot off his chair;
+"your hands and face are all sticky, and must be washed before you
+can do anything."</p>
+
+<p>The others did not offer to wait for him, so the crestfallen Peter
+was left behind, wondering why people wanted so much washing in
+England.</p>
+
+<p>Herbert and Brenda took the twins through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> the house as they might
+have conducted a party of sight-seers. Eustace accepted everything
+in silence, but Nesta did not. For instance,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"This is the picture gallery," said Herbert, "and all these people
+are our ancestors."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the room Queen Elizabeth is supposed to have slept in
+once&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes, mother told us all about that," broke in Nesta; "and the
+bishop always sleeps here when he comes to hold confirmations in
+the neighbourhood."</p>
+
+<p>The party passed on in silence. This sort of thing was damping to
+the showman.</p>
+
+<p>"You see that group of swords over there," began Herbert, trying
+again as they reached the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"The middle one was the one Sir Herbert Chase killed the man with
+at Worcester and just saved the Prince's life, and you are called
+after him," said Nesta, anticipating the tale.</p>
+
+<p>Herbert mentally voted his cousin a bumptious brat of a girl.
+Eustace began to wish Nesta would stop showing off so palpably&mdash;it
+seemed small and silly.</p>
+
+<p>They passed an interesting looking door, and Nesta at once said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we're missing one. That must be the library, because of the
+double doors and the carved owl over them. Do let's go in."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't," said Herbert, glad to show some superior knowledge at
+least of the ways of the house if not of its contents. "Grandfather
+is always there all morning, and no one ever disturbs him."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>"That portrait over there is our great-great-grandfather," said
+Brenda in the dining-room.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Nesta, shaking her head; "one more great.
+Great-great-great-grandfather, Eustace Chase."</p>
+
+<p>Brenda flushed with annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I really think I ought to know," she said, "considering I've
+lived here all my life.&mdash;It is only great-great, isn't it,
+Herbert?"</p>
+
+<p>Herbert looked worried.</p>
+
+<p>"No, it is three greats," he said grudgingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew for certain," said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>Brenda allowed Herbert to take up the <em>r&ocirc;le</em> of conductor awhile.
+Nesta was getting on her nerves. But presently, in the smaller
+drawing-room, they all came to a standstill in front of the picture
+of a beautiful little brown-haired girl.</p>
+
+<p>"That was Aunt Dorothy when she was little," said Brenda very low.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta knew this also, but she said nothing for once.</p>
+
+<p>Herbert led the way out of the house in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Out of doors Nesta displayed just the same irritating certainty of
+things. The sun-dial she noticed from a distance.</p>
+
+<p>"That has '<em>Sic transit vita</em>' on it," she said hurriedly, lest she
+should be forestalled. "Oh, and that tank is the little well place
+mother fell into when she was Becky's age."</p>
+
+<p>But she received a check later.</p>
+
+<p>"The good old swing and the giant's stride," she said with
+enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;new ones," said Herbert with satisfaction; "the old ones were
+rotten, and these were put up for us."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>Nesta put her next venture in the form of a question.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that the summer-house mother and the aunts played dolls in?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Brenda, "that fell down. This is mine. Grandfather gave
+it me one birthday."</p>
+
+<p>Everything had the impress of the Dixon children&mdash;everything seemed
+to be "mine" or "Herbert's." It was a depressing morning for the
+Australians, though Nesta did flatter herself she must have clearly
+demonstrated her knowledge of Maze Court and pretty well surprised
+her cousins. It annoyed her that Eustace had been so dumb, and
+seemingly unable to say more than "yes" or "no" to things. It
+showed a lack of spirit about him she would not have expected after
+his sally about the troughs they fed out of with the coolies, and
+his assertion only that morning that he felt inclined to become a
+savage and astonish the Dixons.</p>
+
+<p>"I expect he's afraid of Herbert," she thought; "but I'm not."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was not either, but he was just a little ashamed of his
+outburst of the evening before. Looked at by light of day it seemed
+unnecessary waste of temper. He thought Bob would not have thought
+much of him for it; it was rather babyish.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how homesick he felt! What wouldn't he have given to have seen
+Bob walking down one of those wide paths towards them. Good old
+Bob! Poor old Bob! What would Brenda and Herbert think if they only
+knew all that story? It was enough to keep the boy silent to have
+such thoughts as these starting up in his memory again and again;
+enough to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> make him ashamed of any pettiness. But the thought of
+Bob alone had power to do that; he was so big, so splendid, such a
+man!</p>
+
+<p>Coming out of the gardens into the park they met nurse and Becky.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said nurse, looking flushed and flustered, "isn't Master
+Peter with you? I can't find him anywhere. I just left him while I
+went to dress Miss Becky, and never thought to tell him to wait for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"Peter isn't used to staying in one room," said Eustace quietly. "I
+guess he is looking for us."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is very naughty of him," said the English nurse in
+vexation.</p>
+
+<p>"Peter wouldn't mean to be naughty," said Eustace in the same quiet
+tone; "but you see we are so used to be all together all day long
+on the veranda."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all very fine," said nurse, "but it doesn't find him for
+me. I just hope he won't come to some harm or do some mischief
+before I get him."</p>
+
+<p>"Could he come to any harm?" asked Nesta anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there are ponds he could fall into, and places he could
+climb and tumble out of. And as to mischief&mdash;there are things
+everywhere he could handle and break," said the woman. "I never saw
+such an inquisitive little fidget as he is. He is all the time
+asking questions and wanting to touch everything he sees."</p>
+
+<p>There immediately began a hunt for Peter. Here, there, and
+everywhere they went in pairs, but nowhere could he be found. They
+called him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> but there was no answer; they asked every one they
+met, but no one had seen him.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Chase was out driving with Mr. and Mrs. Orban; there seemed no
+one to appeal to.</p>
+
+<p>The search reminded Eustace of the story of the loss of Aunt
+Dorothy, and he went and looked in the turret and the secret
+chamber through the cupboard door; but Peter was not there.</p>
+
+<p>Nurse was becoming frantic, for of course she felt responsible for
+her charge. Eustace and Nesta began to be worried. Herbert was
+cross because this prevented his rabbit-shooting; he could not very
+well go away leaving such an anxious household as this. Brenda felt
+sorry both for him and for the twins, but said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The search-party met in the hall, just as that other search-party
+had kept doing so many, many years ago, but there was never any
+news.</p>
+
+<p>"Can there be a secret chamber somewhere else?" said Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>Brenda shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish father would come home," Eustace thought miserably. "He
+might think of something."</p>
+
+<p>"We had better ask grandfather what is to be done," said Herbert at
+last in desperation.</p>
+
+<p>It was a last resource. Nothing but the most serious business was
+allowed to interrupt Mr. Chase's morning, but this had become
+sufficiently pressing to warrant the intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>In through the folding-doors trooped the anxious-looking searchers,
+Herbert first.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I never!" he exclaimed, for there stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> Peter as calm as
+you please, his hands behind him, staring at his grandfather across
+the broad writing-table.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you ride bareback?" he was inquiring in his shrill treble.
+"Bob can; but he said I mustn't try because it is slimy."</p>
+
+<p>"Slimy?" repeated Mr. Chase, with brows bent in perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Peter, "sliddery, you know. A horse is a very slippery
+beast for short legs, Bob says."</p>
+
+<p>He went on quite regardless of the intruders, who stood watching in
+awed silence, because if Mr. Chase did not order Peter out of the
+room, it was no one's business to do so.</p>
+
+<p>"And who may this Bob be you keep quoting?" asked Mr. Chase&mdash;"a
+bushranger?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, he's our friend," replied Peter. "He is just Bob, you know,
+who comes to see us. Once Eustace and he were lost in the scrub.
+And Bob says Eustace is a&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Peter!" exclaimed Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't going to say anything bad," said Peter. "I was only going
+to tell grandfather how you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather doesn't want to know," said Eustace, looking red and
+uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chase turned his bright blue eyes on Eustace; they were blue
+eyes, very like Peter's.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps grandfather does," he said firmly.&mdash;"Go on, Peter."</p>
+
+<p>"I can tell you better," said Eustace hurriedly. "It is only Bob
+was lost, and I got lost looking for him; and we thought some
+natives were going to kill us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> but the chief wanted a reward, so
+he fetched father and Mr. Cochrane to take us home."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chase listened quietly. It was a tame little story, without
+much point to it told like that, but he had watched Eustace's
+sensitive face narrowly, and he asked no further questions.</p>
+
+<p>"I seem to be honoured with much company this morning," he said
+instead, looking round the group on the threshold. "What are you
+all doing, if I may ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"Looking for Peter, grandfather," explained Herbert uncomfortably,
+certain that Mr. Chase was annoyed. "We've been hunting for him for
+the last hour."</p>
+
+<p>"I've had the pleasure of his society for about that space of
+time," said Mr. Chase. "I have had to give an account of how many
+black men and how many Chinkees I employ about the place; whether I
+wouldn't rather live in Queensland if I had a hundred pounds of my
+own; and how long I sleep in the winter. I don't know why he wants
+to know that, I am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," said Peter quickly, "because Bob says people in England sleep
+like dormice in the winter, and have to be wakened by big knockers
+on the door."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said Mr. Chase gravely, "your friend Bob seems to know
+more about England than I do&mdash;probably because I sleep right
+through the winter. Now, if you have asked everything you can think
+of, perhaps you will take your tribe away with you, Peter Perky."</p>
+
+<p>The twins jumped violently at the name, and stared at the speaker
+in astonishment. No one but Aunt Dorothy had ever called Peter
+that.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>"I should like to know if you roll up when you sleep, or lie flat,"
+Peter said, not feeling at all anxious to go. "Aunt Dorothy always
+called me a dormouse at night&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You can go, Peter," interrupted Mr. Chase hurriedly; "I am busy."</p>
+
+<p>Herbert took the child by the shoulder and marched him out of the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>"Peter, how could you?" exclaimed Brenda, when they reached the
+schoolroom.</p>
+
+<p>"How could I what?" demanded Peter, looking puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, speak about poor Aunt Dorothy before grandfather," said the
+girl. "Nobody does; he can't bear it."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't he?" said Peter mildly; "but he asked me a lot of questions
+about her himself. And I told him how she called me Peter Perky,
+and all about her saving my life in the wreck."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" interrupted the cousins in a breath; "she did what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you know?" said Eustace.</p>
+
+<p>"We don't know anything except what that awful cable said," Brenda
+said in a low, shaky voice.</p>
+
+<p>Between them the twins and Peter told the whole story. Herbert sat
+at the table, his head buried in his hands. Brenda listened with
+her back to the speakers, looking away out of the window.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long pause.</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said Herbert huskily at last, "if it hadn't been for Peter,
+Aunt Dorothy would never have been drowned."</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span><a name="xix" id="xix"></a>CHAPTER XIX.<br />
+
+<small>THE LAST STRAW.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">The words fell like a thunderbolt into the midst of the group.
+Eustace moved involuntarily to Peter's side and put a protecting
+arm round him, as if he had been struck. The little fellow himself
+looked utterly bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>"How can you say such a wicked, wicked thing?" exclaimed Nesta in
+astonishment; "just as if it was poor Peter's fault."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, wasn't it?" demanded Herbert bitterly, his face still
+hidden. "If Peter hadn't been at the other side of the ship&mdash;if
+Aunt Dorothy had not had to go away and find him&mdash;but you all got
+into the boat and went away and left her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" exclaimed Eustace sharply. "You don't know what a wreck in
+the dark is like, or you wouldn't talk like that. There isn't time
+to know anything. We didn't know Aunt Dorothy was left."</p>
+
+<p>"I should have known," said Herbert, with all the confidence of
+ignorance, "and I would have stayed and drowned with her."</p>
+
+<p>He broke off short, rose abruptly, and stumbled in a queer, blind
+way from the room. He could not bear that any one should witness
+his grief.</p>
+
+<p>Brenda turned a tear-stained face from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> window and stared at
+the trio now standing close together.</p>
+
+<p>"He isn't thinking what he is saying," she said chokily; "but we
+are so frightfully unhappy about Aunt Dorothy&mdash;and this seems to
+make it worse&mdash;I mean that she might so easily have been saved. Of
+course you didn't really know her, so you can't understand. But
+ever since our mother died Aunt Dorothy&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But here Brenda's voice broke utterly, and she, too, hurriedly left
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," exclaimed Nesta, "I think it just horrid of them. I shall
+never, never like them now."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace turned a pair of surprised brown eyes upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you?" he said wonderingly. "Why, I like them better than I
+did, ever so much."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" Nesta said, "you like them better for saying a horrid thing
+like that? To make out it was Peter's fault! Poor little Peter, who
+was so nearly drowned himself!"</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't that part I was thinking of," said Eustace, "but just
+how they loved her. Somehow I never thought of it before. Same way
+we love mother, I guess; and I don't know what I should have
+thought if mother had been drowned saving some one else's brother."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta stared at him blankly. There were things about Eustace lately
+that she did not understand. She knew nothing of Bob's maxim about
+looking at two sides of a question, so she could see no reason for
+the strange things he sometimes said, and he was far too reticent
+to have explained.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>"Well, all I can say is, I wish we had never come," said Nesta for
+about the twentieth time. "Nothing is nice, and it will be more
+hateful than ever now they feel like that about Peter. We had
+better tell mother and father, and ask them to take us away."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that I hear?" said an astonished voice at the door.</p>
+
+<p>The children all jumped and turned round, for there stood their
+grandfather. They were speechless with dismay; they could not have
+pictured a worse thing happening.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you say, Nesta?" asked Mr. Chase again, in a tone that
+made the twins' hearts stand still.</p>
+
+<p>He looked angry, surprised, and very commanding. But how were they
+to repeat what they had been saying? Nesta remembered they had been
+warned not to speak of Aunt Dorothy before him. Eustace felt it
+would be mean and ungenerous to get Herbert into trouble behind his
+back. But Peter had no such scruples. Dropping his head into his
+arms on the table, he broke out sobbingly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Herbert says it was me drowned Aunt Dorothy."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" exclaimed Mr. Chase incredulously; "he surely never said
+such a thing? Explain this to me, Eustace, at once."</p>
+
+<p>His tone was so severe that the boy literally shook. He had never
+seen any one really angry in his life before.</p>
+
+<p>"He didn't say quite that," Eustace said with difficulty; "he only
+meant it was because of Peter."</p>
+
+<p>"Kindly give me his exact words," Mr. Chase said, still in that
+awful voice.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>Eustace closed his thin lips tight, with an expression that meant
+wild horses would not drag it from him. His grandfather scanned his
+face closely, then turned to Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>"As Eustace seems to have lost his tongue, I must ask you to tell
+me what Herbert said in exactly his own words."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta glanced furtively at her twin, but she was angry with Herbert
+and saw no reason why he should be protected.</p>
+
+<p>"He said," she replied, "if Peter had not been at the other side of
+the boat, and Aunt Dorothy had not had to go and find him, she
+wouldn't have been drowned. He said we all went away and left
+her&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"How dared he!" Mr. Chase thundered. "I am ashamed that a grandson
+of mine should have behaved in such a way. Whatever he thought, he
+had no right to say such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>"He&mdash;he was most fearfully unhappy," said Eustace nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"That is no excuse for his making other people so too," Mr. Chase
+replied. "Eustace, go and tell Herbert to come here at once."</p>
+
+<p>It was a disagreeable errand, and the boy whitened as he turned to
+obey. Mr. Chase's prompt, old-fashioned methods were something new
+to him. Fault-finding at home had always been reserved for quiet
+talks alone with father or mother; they were never made big public
+affairs like this.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace found Herbert in his own room pacing up and down the floor
+with his hands in his pockets. He had got control of himself by
+then, and he turned on his visitor with a look of impatient
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>"What do you want?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm awfully sorry," Eustace began lamely, "but you've got to come
+to grandfather. We were talking about what you said, and he came in
+without our hearing. He made us tell him the rest, and I'm afraid
+he&mdash;he is going to lecture you."</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you told tales?" said Herbert scathingly. Without waiting for
+a reply he marched past his cousin to the schoolroom. Eustace could
+not bear to follow and see him humiliated. It would be just a
+little better for him with one person less present, he thought.</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather was fearfully severe," said Nesta later, when she had
+found Eustace prowling about like a bear with a sore head alone in
+the grounds. "So you see it was a beastly thing to say. He said
+Herbert was no gentleman if he didn't apologize."</p>
+
+<p>"And did he?" asked Eustace shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"He said he was sorry if he hadn't behaved like a gentleman, and it
+shouldn't occur again. Most awfully stiffly he spoke, just like a
+grown-up, and then grandfather said he might go."</p>
+
+<p>"And that before you and Peter!" exclaimed Eustace in tones of
+disgust. "I'm jolly glad I wasn't there; it would have made me feel
+a low-down black-fellow if Herbert had apologized to me. I don't
+think Peter behaved like a white man, and I mean to tell him so,
+too, when I get him to myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Grandfather seems to have taken a fancy to Peter," said Nesta. "He
+had come up to fetch him when he overheard me. He said Peter had
+already broken his morning, and he had better have the rest of it
+and take him a walk. Brenda says she never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> knew him do such a
+queer thing before; he is not generally supposed to be fond of
+children, and that is why we have no meals downstairs."</p>
+
+<p>Every one was surprised at Mr. Chase's sudden partiality for Peter,
+but the reason was a very simple one. From Peter he could hear more
+about Miss Chase than from any one else. No tears choked little
+Peter's voice when he described Aunt Dorothy's first day, or told
+the story of her quaint mistakes. He quite forgot the sad part of
+her visit, and lost himself in his stories. The old man led him on
+from point to point, and learned all that he could of his beloved
+daughter's stay in Queensland without Peter's guessing what he was
+really doing.</p>
+
+<p>The little fellow was radiantly happy. They walked about the
+grounds together, and presently Mr. Chase said Peter must learn to
+ride&mdash;he would teach him himself. Accordingly, out went Peter on a
+little pony with Mr. Chase at its head, and the riding lessons
+began.</p>
+
+<p>"It doesn't look as if grandfather thought it was Peter's fault,"
+said Nesta to Eustace; "he seems fonder of him than any one."</p>
+
+<p>If Peter was content, not so the twins. The scene with Herbert had
+produced a very uncomfortable state of affairs. He no longer played
+the part of host, but kept out of his cousins' way as much as
+possible, going out on long expeditions by himself, and never
+joining the schoolroom party when he could help it.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta thought him detestable, but Eustace had a feeling that
+Herbert had been very hardly treated in his own home. He could not
+forget how genuine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> had been the big fellow's unhappiness over the
+awful loss of his beloved aunt, and Eustace could have forgiven
+much more than the outburst against Peter in the face of such real
+distress. But he had no chance of showing his sympathy; Herbert
+would have resented any exhibition of sentiment most haughtily.
+Eustace only felt exceedingly awkward whenever he was with him, and
+wished with all his heart he could awake to find all these
+unfortunate English experiences nothing but a bad dream.</p>
+
+<p>Between her loyalty to her brother and the sense of courtesy that
+bade her look after her cousins, Brenda had a very difficult course
+to steer; being proud and reserved by nature, she only succeeded in
+being exceedingly stiff in her attempts at civility to the twins.</p>
+
+<p>"It gets horrider and horrider," Nesta said after two or three days
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>But the secret treaty not to trouble their mother and disturb her
+enjoyment held good through everything.</p>
+
+<p>"It will come to an end in a year," Eustace said bravely; "and we
+couldn't bear it after we got back if we had to remember we had
+spoiled mother's trip. She has been longing for it such a long
+time."</p>
+
+<p>Because they saw so comparatively little of their mother, it was
+always possible to keep their grievances from her; and she was so
+certain her children must be sharing the pleasures with herself, it
+never occurred to her to suspect that anything was wrong.</p>
+
+<p>"It wouldn't be us spoiling her trip," Nesta objected; "it would be
+Brenda's and Herbert's faults, because they are so disagreeable."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>"It would be because of us," Eustace held out, "and I'll never
+forgive you if you go whining about it to mother or any one. We can
+bear it for a year, or we aren't worth anything."</p>
+
+<p>But even Eustace's courage received a check one evening when he and
+Nesta were called into their mother's room for a talk before she
+dressed for dinner. Her face was aglow with some pleasant thoughts,
+yet she was very serious&mdash;a strange mixture that immediately struck
+the twins as portending something very big and out of the way.</p>
+
+<p>"Chicks," she said, drawing them down on each side of her on the
+sofa, "I have got something very special to say to you
+to-day&mdash;something I scarcely know whether to be most glad or sorry
+about, for it cuts two ways. It fulfils the ambition of my life for
+you, and at the same time it costs me my twins."</p>
+
+<p>There was a breathless, expectant silence.</p>
+
+<p>"I think for you the happiness will outweigh the pain," she went on
+gently, "because it means new interests, new life, everything you
+must most desire. And, dears, we have to thank grandfather for it;
+he insists on sending you both to school."</p>
+
+<p>"To school!" shouted the twins simultaneously.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mrs. Orban said, "actually to school. He wishes you to have
+exactly the same advantages as Brenda and Herbert. Won't it be
+splendid for you?"</p>
+
+<p>There was dead silence. Mrs. Orban glanced from one grave face to
+the other. Nesta's was crumpled and bewildered; Eustace's very
+white, and his expression sadly strained.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, darlings," Mrs. Orban said, "you have always wanted to go to
+school. Hasn't it nearly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> made me cry again and again to hear you
+craving for a thing we could not give you? And now your wishes have
+been granted as it were by magic, I do believe you are not glad
+after all."</p>
+
+<p>There was such a ring of disappointment in their mother's voice
+that even Nesta was roused.</p>
+
+<p>"We've wanted it awfully," stammered Eustace awkwardly, "but we&mdash;we
+didn't think of it coming quite so soon."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is that it, you dears?" Mrs. Orban said in a tone between
+laughter and tears. "I was afraid something much worse was the
+matter&mdash;that you had changed your minds, for instance, or that you
+didn't like England after all; but of course that couldn't be."</p>
+
+<p>She spoke with such perfect certainty that the twins were dumb;
+they could think of nothing to say.</p>
+
+<p>"There really is rather a blessing in disguise in your going to
+school at once, though I can't bear parting with you," Mrs. Orban
+went on after a little silence. "I shall be quite close to you
+while you are still feeling strange in your new life; I shall hear
+all about everything from you by word of mouth in the holidays; and
+I shall go away next year feeling content that you are settled
+down, and likely to be nothing but a tiny bit mammy-sick at my
+departure."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace rubbed his head against her shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"More than a tiny bit, mummie," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"We needn't think about that yet, though," said Mrs. Orban
+cheerily; "it is a long way off, with plenty of lovely times
+between. I only wish father had not to go so soon."</p>
+
+<p>"How soon?" queried Nesta sharply.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>"He says he must be off the end of this month," was the answer;
+"that is why the school-going has had to be settled so hurriedly.
+But he has a lovely dream for the future: before you have left
+school he hopes to be able to come to England for good and settle
+down here."</p>
+
+<p>"How long would it be before that, mother?" Eustace asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, four or five years, perhaps," said Mrs. Orban.</p>
+
+<p>"But shan't we ever go back to Australia again?" Nesta said with a
+gulp.</p>
+
+<p>"You won't want to, my dear, once you get used to England," said
+her mother gently. "Of course it would not be possible for you to
+come home all that distance for holidays, but you will soon learn
+not to mind if you have our home-coming to look forward to. Now I
+will tell you a little about the schools you are going to."</p>
+
+<p>It was easy to listen with apparent interest to this, to put in a
+question here and there and glean all the information possible. But
+when the pair left the room Nesta suddenly gripped her brother's
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace," she said huskily, "I&mdash;I can't bear it."</p>
+
+<p>"You just must," said the boy sturdily. "I guess there is nothing
+else to do."</p>
+
+<p>The words were so hopeless that Nesta's tears began to fall thick
+and fast, and he drew her almost roughly down the passage out of
+earshot. They reached the picture gallery, and sat down in a deep
+window-seat overlooking the front drive and the beautiful park
+beyond. Here Nesta buried her face in her hands and fairly sobbed.
+Eustace bore it for some seconds, then,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>"Look here, old girl," he said, "don't be silly. You'll have a red
+nose for dessert."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care," Nesta blurted out.</p>
+
+<p>"But you must care," Eustace said a little impatiently, "because
+then mother will see you have been crying and find out we're
+miserable."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care," sobbed Nesta again. "I can't hide it any more, and
+I don't want to. I shall ask father to let me go home with him.
+Nothing will make me stay here with these&mdash;these horrid people."</p>
+
+<p>"Nesta!" Eustace exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I can't help it; they are horrid, even if they are our
+people. I never thought of them being anything like this. And I
+can't&mdash;I won't stay with them."</p>
+
+<p>"Rot," said Eustace angrily. "You know we can't help staying if
+every one says we are to."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said Nesta, drawing herself up with a sudden attempt at
+dignity, "I shall run away."</p>
+
+<p>"Silly!" Eustace exclaimed irritably.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll see it isn't silly when I do it," said Nesta gloomily. "I
+shall tell father and mother everything about how horrid it is for
+us, and then if they won't take us home&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She stopped dramatically, leaving Eustace to fill in the threat for
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"You really will tell mother, and spoil everything for her?" he
+asked in a low, angry tone.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta nodded defiantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are a little beast," said Eustace furiously&mdash;"a cruel
+little beast."</p>
+
+<p>Nesta rose with her nose very high in the air.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she said; "you are most awfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> polite. I shall take
+care not to tell you anything ever again."</p>
+
+<p>Eustace knelt up on the seat, and leant out of the open window into
+the soft evening air. He was too angry to speak coherently, too
+bewildered to know what to say. With a toss of her head Nesta
+turned and left him.</p>
+
+<p>He heard her determined footsteps die away down the gallery, and
+knew he was meant to understand he had her sincerest disapproval. A
+few months earlier, he would presently have thrown off his sense of
+irritation and laughed at Nesta's little airs of importance.
+To-night he had no heart for the funny side of it. He was vexed to
+have lost his influence over Nesta, and worried at the thought of
+what an upset her headstrong course would make. Let alone his
+mother's disappointment, there would be the grandparents'
+indignation to reckon with, and Herbert's and Brenda's scornful
+surprise. They would indeed think them wild Bush children, and be
+justified in their present attitude of cool unfriendliness.</p>
+
+<p>Yet to be left in these uncongenial surroundings for a space of
+time that seemed like an eternity to a lad of fourteen; to be
+forced to remain with these unsympathetic companions for the next
+four or five years, with no one to turn to and without a home,
+meant desolation as complete for Eustace as for Nesta.</p>
+
+<p>Away in the park some rooks cawed fussily over the choice of their
+night quarters. Nearer, a blackbird piped an evening song. They
+sounded restless and plaintive to the lonely boy, and he hid his
+face in his hands, covering eyes and ears that he might see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+nothing, hear nothing. Then into his mind there surged a
+recollection of the dear old free days at home, never to come
+again. Right in the midst of every memory stood Bob&mdash;his friend Bob
+whom he would never see again. That was the thought that broke his
+spirit, and had he been a girl he would have cried; but Eustace
+shed no tears&mdash;this sorrow was beyond them, for a boy.</p>
+
+<p>Something hard suddenly struck him with a sharp tap on the
+shoulder, and, as he started back in surprise, fell with a clatter
+back on the gravel below.</p>
+
+<p>Then Eustace gasped, rubbed his eyes, and stared, feeling as if he
+must suddenly have taken leave of his senses; for there in the
+drive, his hand poised ready to throw another stone if the first
+had missed its mark, stood Bob Cochrane.</p>
+
+<p class="back"><a href="#con">Back to contents</a></p>
+
+
+<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span><a name="xx" id="xx"></a>CHAPTER XX.<br />
+
+<small>BREAKING THE NEWS.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap">Before the boy had recovered sufficiently to make a sound, Bob said
+in a low, distinct voice,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make a row, old man. It's all right; I'm not a ghost. I want
+you to get hold of your father for me without a soul knowing that
+you have seen me. Tell him I am waiting by the first drive gate,
+and want to speak to him at once. Mind no one else hears what you
+say. Seeing you is better luck than I expected."</p>
+
+<p>He turned and was walking rapidly away across the centre grass plot
+before Eustace quite realized this was no dream, but a solid truth,
+and that something was required of him.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob, Bob, how have you come here?" he called in a trembling voice.</p>
+
+<p>But the figure only half turned with a warning gesture, and passed
+resolutely on.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the boy was rooted to the spot. Was this thing real?
+Could Bob possibly be there? The idea was incredible; yet his eyes,
+his ears, both bore witness to the fact. But how had it happened?
+what did it mean?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>With thoughts in a turmoil and heart beating to suffocation, he
+made his way to his father's dressing-room.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, father," he said breathlessly, putting his head round the
+door at the answer to his knock, "are you nearly dressed?"</p>
+
+<p>"All but my coat," said Mr. Orban, without turning from the glass
+where he was carefully arranging his evening tie. "Come in if you
+want to."</p>
+
+<p>There was an open door into the bedroom, where Eustace knew his
+mother was certain still to be.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I would rather speak to you out here," said the boy, "if you
+could be quick."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban turned a surprised face.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if it is a secret I am sure mother will excuse our shutting
+the door," he said, and suited the action to the word. "Now come,
+out with it. Have you been getting into some scrape, old man?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy looked so extraordinarily white that Mr. Orban began to be
+afraid something serious had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"You are quite certain mother can't hear?" Eustace said in a low
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly," said Mr. Orban, looking more deeply perplexed, for
+hitherto Mrs. Orban had shared all secrets; in fact, the children
+had gone more readily to her with their troubles than to him,
+because he had so little time for such things. "There hasn't been
+any accident to one of the others?" he added sharply, struck by a
+new idea.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, no," Eustace said; "nothing like that. But, father," he
+went on, drawing very close, "I'm not to tell another soul&mdash;only
+you. Bob Cochrane<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> is here. He is waiting for you down by the first
+drive gate, and wants to speak to you at once."</p>
+
+<p>"Bob Cochrane!" repeated Mr. Orban, blankly staring at the boy.
+"What are you talking about, child? You've been dreaming, or you've
+got a touch of fever."</p>
+
+<p>He passed his hand over Eustace's brow, and found it cool enough.</p>
+
+<p>"But it's the truth, father," Eustace said. "I thought I was
+dreaming myself, and it feels awfully strange still. I was kneeling
+at the window with my head in my hands, thinking&mdash;thinking about
+home"&mdash;his voice faltered a good deal over the words&mdash;"when some
+one hit me on the shoulder with a stone, and I looked down and saw
+Bob."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!" said Mr. Orban. "You've had a delusion because you
+were thinking about home. You were thinking so hard about Bob you
+fancied you saw him. Things like that do happen sometimes, you
+know. Bob is thousands of miles away, looking after the plantation;
+he couldn't by any earthly possibility be here."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Orban spoke so certainly that Eustace's faith in his own reason
+almost wavered; but if vision it were, it had impressed him
+strongly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think I could have seen it so clearly if it had only been
+my own thought," he argued aloud. "Besides, he spoke; he said quite
+clearly, 'Don't make a row, old man; I'm not a ghost. I want you to
+get hold of your father for me without a soul knowing that you have
+seen me. Tell him I am waiting by the first drive gate, and want to
+speak to him at once. Mind no one else hears<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> what you say. Seeing
+you is better luck than I expected.'"</p>
+
+<p>The words were branded on his memory by the shock he had received,
+and now it was Mr. Orban's turn to become white.</p>
+
+<p>"If it is so really," he said in an odd, unsteady voice, "he brings
+bad news. Something so bad has happened that he could not break it
+to me in a letter."</p>
+
+<p>It flashed into Eustace's mind that Bob had looked awfully grave
+and queer&mdash;if Bob it really were, and no delusion! Suppose his
+father should go to the gate and find no one awaiting him&mdash;what
+then?</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you will go and see if he is there?" faltered the boy
+nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going at once," said Mr. Orban. "When you are dressed
+yourself, go down into the drawing-room as usual, as if nothing had
+happened." He opened the door into Mrs. Orban's room and said
+lightly, "There's a man just called to see me, dear. If I happen to
+be detained, make my apologies to the old people, and ask them not
+to wait dinner for me."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Orban made a cheery, unsuspecting response, and he and Eustace
+left the room.</p>
+
+<p>The twins and the Dixon pair always assembled in the drawing-room
+with every one before dinner was served, and there they awaited the
+summons to dessert, as a rule with books, in dreary silence.</p>
+
+<p>When Eustace came down he found every one waiting for dinner. Mr.
+Orban was not yet in, and Mr. Chase would not hear of beginning the
+meal without him.</p>
+
+<p>"His friend can't in conscience keep him late at such an hour," he
+said. "Of course we will wait."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>No one was very talkative. It seemed to Eustace as if something of
+the coming shadow were creeping over the community before the bad
+news could even be dreamed of by any one except himself. There was
+just the sort of deadly calm and stillness over everything that
+comes before a thunderstorm.</p>
+
+<p>Nesta had curled herself up in a deep window-seat, well out of
+sight. Eustace guessed she had made such a fright of herself with
+crying she was afraid to show her face. He sat near the door into
+the great conservatory with a book, pretending to read. Really he
+could do nothing but wonder what terrible thing could be going to
+happen next.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, just when Mr. Chase was getting a little restless, and
+Mrs. Orban began anxiously watching the door, Mr. Orban came
+hurriedly into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive my being so late," he said in a voice that vibrated
+strangely; "but I am afraid I must detain you still for a few
+minutes. The fact is, a Queensland friend of mine has just turned
+up with&mdash;with some rather curious details about the wreck of the
+<em>Cora</em>. He thought it would pain us less to hear them by word of
+mouth than by letter, so he came himself."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good of him, I'm sure," said Mr. Chase, looking surprised.
+"Won't he stay and dine with us, and then afterwards&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, of course he must stay the night!" cried Mrs. Chase
+hospitably; "and this evening we can talk things over quietly when
+the children have gone to bed."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said Mr. Orban, with a gravity that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> impressed every one
+deeply, "my friend would rather have his interview at once. He is
+anxious to get it over as soon as possible. I have asked him into
+the boudoir, Mrs. Chase. I thought we would talk there more quietly
+than here."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said Mrs. Chase, rising and leading the way to the
+boudoir, which opened off the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Every one looked utterly bewildered, and Mr. Chase just a little
+annoyed. It was most unprecedented that dinner should be so
+delayed. Eustace noticed his father whisper something to his
+mother; she started, flushed painfully, and he guessed Mr. Orban
+had told her who the visitor was.</p>
+
+<p>The boudoir door closed after the elders, and there was silence in
+the drawing-room. Herbert became restless, and wandered about the
+room opening books or fingering the ornaments in an aimless way;
+Nesta stared gloomily out of the window, and Brenda tried to read.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace could stand the inaction and the unsympathetic company no
+longer, so, getting up, he strolled into the sweet-smelling
+conservatory to be alone.</p>
+
+<p>There were scents there that always wafted him in memory back
+home&mdash;he loved the warmth and the plants. There was a large oval
+stage covered with flowers in the centre, and round this he
+strolled towards the outer door.</p>
+
+<p>So it was about the wreck Bob had come to speak. What more painful
+news could he have to bring than they already knew? The boy's
+common sense told him that the details must have to do with the
+death of Aunt Dorothy; nothing of less importance could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> have
+brought Bob over. Perhaps he had met an eye-witness of the tragedy!
+Perhaps there were last messages from the drowned girl!</p>
+
+<p>Eustace turned a corner and came to an abrupt standstill. It seemed
+to him in that instant as if his very heart stopped beating and his
+hair stood straight on end.</p>
+
+<p>It was absurd, of course. Bob had turned out to be no mere creation
+of his own brain, but this could be nothing else. Here was proof
+positive of Mr. Orban's words that one has but to think hard enough
+about a person to imagine one sees him.</p>
+
+<p>With her back to the outer door&mdash;a white figure with a face as
+colourless as her dress&mdash;stood Dorothy Chase; nothing about her was
+lifelike except the familiar deep-brown eyes that gazed steadfastly
+on the startled boy.</p>
+
+<p>It was an extraordinarily vivid hallucination, and not a little
+terrifying. Was it no fancy? Could it possibly be Aunt Dorothy's
+spirit come to visit her old home again? The thought leapt into the
+boy's mind.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace was no coward, but the notion fairly paralyzed him; he
+could not have moved to save his life. One supreme effort he made.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Dorothy," he whispered hoarsely, and could say no more, for
+his lips were parched, his throat was dry.</p>
+
+<p>The vision raised a warning hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" she said; "don't be frightened. I see Bob has not told you
+yet; but it is all right, darling. I am a real live human being,
+and no spirit. Just Aunt Dorothy come back to you safe and sound."</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>The words seemed to come from far away, and Eustace felt so queer
+he swayed to try and keep his balance. He was so giddy he must have
+fallen had the vision not swept forward and caught him. The feeling
+of those strong arms about him, the warm touch of Aunt Dorothy's
+face bent down to his, brought him with a jerk to himself again,
+and he did not faint. But even then he could not believe his
+senses.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand," he gasped, shaking from head to foot in her
+arms; and he pressed his face tight against her shoulder to try and
+recover himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor old chap!" said Aunt Dorothy, "how I have upset you! I never
+meant any of you to see me till you knew. Bob is breaking the news
+to father and mother gently. We were afraid the shock of joy would
+be too much for them, so we did not even cable, but came at once. A
+letter would have got here very little sooner than ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>She talked on in a soft, soothing voice to give the boy time to
+pull himself together, and all the time she held him close.</p>
+
+<p>"You&mdash;you weren't drowned," Eustace managed to blurt out.</p>
+
+<p>"Very nearly, but not quite," was the reply; "my escape was like a
+miracle. Ah, here comes Bob at last."</p>
+
+<p>"Have I seemed an awful time?" said Bob gently. "It was a difficult
+thing to do. Come&mdash;they are waiting for you."</p>
+
+<p>The pair passed swiftly up the conservatory into the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p>Herbert was standing by the mantelpiece examining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> a piece of
+valuable S&egrave;vres china. As the stranger, accompanied by that white
+figure, crossed the room to the boudoir, the ornament fell with a
+crash, to be splintered into twenty pieces on the fender.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what was that?" cried Brenda, starting to her feet and gazing
+after the apparition.</p>
+
+<p>"It's Aunt Dorothy," said Eustace from the conservatory. "She was
+never drowned at all."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" said Herbert sharply. "You are dreaming."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we are all dreaming," said Eustace gravely. "You saw her for
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>It would be impossible to describe the scene that followed. When
+the boudoir door opened and the grown-ups all trooped out, headed
+by Aunt Dorothy, the commotion was beyond words. From the midst of
+it Mr. Chase slipped away, to return with Peter in his arms. Peter
+was in pyjamas and dressing-gown, rosy, and fresh roused from
+sleep.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't let him be out of it all," said Mr. Chase. "I have told
+him of our joyful surprise, and he takes it quite calmly."</p>
+
+<p>"Peter would," said Miss Chase, taking the wee fellow in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm very glad I didn't drown you," Peter said serenely.
+"Herbert&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But he finished the sentence in an incoherent yell, kicking out
+right and left.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?" asked Dorothy in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Eustace pinched my bare leg," Peter said irately, wriggling to the
+ground in order to avenge himself.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace caught his wrists, and bending low, whispered,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>"You are not to tell tales. I told you that the other day. You
+don't want to be a low-down black-fellow, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>Peter's face was crumpled with anger, and there is no saying what
+he would have done if Bob had not exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Hulloa, Peter! haven't you a word for me?"</p>
+
+<p>The shock was complete. Mr. Chase had not mentioned Bob's arrival,
+and Peter was wholly unprepared for seeing him.</p>
+
+<p>"Bob!" he shouted, "good old Bob!" and sprang like a young cat at
+the big fellow, who caught him skilfully.</p>
+
+<p>"When you have quite done throttling me I shall be glad," said Bob,
+after enduring the embrace of the merciless little arms a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"But how did you get here?" demanded Peter of the long memory.
+"Were you bewitched over to England?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come," said Mr. Chase; "dinner first and stories afterwards.
+We shall have to eat cinders as it is, I expect, and cook will give
+notice to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"Every one must come into the dining-room, father," laughed Aunt
+Dorothy; "I can't part with one of you yet. We will talk while we
+eat."</p>
+
+<p>In a moment everything seemed changed. All the severity had faded
+from the old people's faces; they could not have looked more
+delightfully "grannyish" if they had tried. The dreadful barriers
+of formality were broken down; no noisier, freer family party had
+ever gathered in the Queensland home than the one that peopled the
+stately old dining-room that night.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>"This," whispered Brenda to Nesta, "is how we always were before
+Aunt Dorothy went away. Now you can see why we missed her."</p>
+
+<p>The change was something like a fairy tale to the Bush children;
+every one seemed suddenly "magicked" into different beings. This,
+then, was home as mother had known it.</p>
+
+<p>The story of Aunt Dorothy's rescue held the table spellbound; the
+very butler and footman forgot their duties as they listened.</p>
+
+<p>It appeared that, having jumped into the water with Peter, Dorothy
+struck out as fast as possible to swim away from the ship, keeping
+a grip of the little fellow as best she could. But in the terrible
+commotion that occurred on the going down of the <em>Cora</em> she lost
+her grasp, and Peter was swept away from her into the inky
+blackness of the night.</p>
+
+<p>She swam, floated, called, it seemed to her for ages, but all in
+vain, and at last, in a state of utter exhaustion, she gave herself
+up merely to the thought of keeping afloat. She must have been many
+hours in the water, but, losing consciousness after a while, her
+next experience was to find herself on board a vessel of some
+sort&mdash;a schooner it turned out to be on her way out to the reefs
+for b&ecirc;che-de-mer fishing.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, we saw her!" exclaimed Eustace. "Mother, that must have been
+the boat we saw far away out to sea. The captain of the station
+told us it was theirs."</p>
+
+<p>"They must have picked me up soon after dawn, before the turn of
+the tide," said Aunt Dorothy. "I think when I came to my senses and
+saw the kind of people I was among, I was more frightened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> than I
+had been even by the wreck. Most of them were black-fellows&mdash;the
+rest I have since discovered were Portuguese; but not a soul in all
+that uncouth crowd could speak English or understand a word I
+said."</p>
+
+<p>"It was pretty terrifying," Bob agreed.</p>
+
+<p>"They therefore did not know where I came from, where I wanted to
+go, or anything about me. I kept imploring them to take me back to
+land; but this, though they must have understood my signs, they
+refused to do."</p>
+
+<p>"What brutes!" exclaimed Herbert hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"They are a low-grade lot," said Bob in his quaint Colonial way,
+"but you know they can only get the b&ecirc;che-de-mer at certain tides.
+It would have meant a dead loss to them to have put back, and
+probably they were working under contract, bound to supply a
+certain amount at a given time to their Chinkee employers."</p>
+
+<p>"But it was horrid of them," said Nesta, who had recovered herself
+entirely in the excitement, and was inclined to agree even with
+Herbert for once.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a real adventure, wasn't it?" Eustace said, appealing to
+Bob.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather more of one than I bargained for," said Aunt Dorothy. "But
+in their own rough way the men tried to be kind to me. The food we
+had was disgusting, the boat dreadfully fishy, oily, and dirty;
+there was not a possibility of being comfortable day or night. But
+I have nothing to grumble at. They took me back safe and sound to
+the b&ecirc;che-de-mer station at last, and there I heard all about you,
+even to the saving of Peter. All the discomforts and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> horrors put
+together were nothing to my suspense about your fates till then."</p>
+
+<p>The rest of the story was simple enough. Finding the Orbans had
+left Cooktown, Miss Chase instantly communicated with Bob, and
+together they arranged the plan for the home-coming. Their chief
+aim was to convey the good news as gently as possible, and they
+certainly achieved their end.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know how I could have borne the waiting had you cabled,"
+Mrs. Chase said. "I should have suffered agonies imagining fresh
+accidents that might happen to you all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"Dorothy has become quite an experienced traveller one way and
+another," said Mr. Chase. "You little thought, my dear, when you
+set out so gaily from here, what a stormy life you were embarking
+upon."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think you would be terrified ever to go there again,"
+said Brenda.</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary," said Bob Cochrane, "I hope your aunt will feel
+encouraged to return before long. What was the compact, Peter? She
+was to come back and be burnt as a witch, wasn't she?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet awhile," said Mr. Chase gravely. "You can't expect us to
+part with her for some little time to come."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not, sir," said Bob genially.</p>
+
+<p>And then he and Dorothy just glanced at each other and laughed with
+a strange kind of joyousness that mystified the Dixons; but Eustace
+looked hard at Nesta and nodded meaningly.</p>
+
+<p>Bob's face was no longer haggard and drawn; it wore its old,
+habitual expression of steadfast happiness.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>The party did not break up till "disgracefully late," as Mr. Chase
+put it. Peter was carried by his mother asleep to bed. The twins
+and the Dixons felt so wide awake they fancied they would not close
+an eye all night.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chase laughed when he heard the story of the S&egrave;vres ornament.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not surprised you were startled," he said kindly; "but please
+try to have something a little less valuable in your hands next
+ghost you meet."</p>
+
+<p>"Nesta," said Eustace, following his twin to her door, "what are
+you going to do now? Shall you tell mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell mother what?" asked Nesta, with well-feigned astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that you are miserable, and won't stay, and all that stuff,"
+was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not, silly," Nesta retorted. "Any one can see everything
+is going to be quite different now Aunt Dorothy has come."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, silly," said Eustace, in a mocking tone, and they both
+laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, you two," said a voice along the passage, and Herbert
+turned off into his own room.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm coming to brush my hair in your room to-night," said Brenda,
+bearing down upon them, brush and comb in hand.</p>
+
+<p>Eustace passed on.</p>
+
+<p>"It is all different already," he said softly. "I think Bob has
+been right all along&mdash;Aunt Dorothy has bewitched us, every one."</p>
+
+
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Queensland Cousins, by Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,8173 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Queensland Cousins, by Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Queensland Cousins
+
+Author: Eleanor Luisa Haverfield
+
+Release Date: April 16, 2008 [EBook #25079]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEENSLAND COUSINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nick Wall, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+QUEENSLAND COUSINS
+
+
+    [Illustration: It was the great native chief.]
+
+    QUEENSLAND
+    COUSINS
+
+    BY
+
+    E. L. HAVERFIELD
+
+    THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD.
+    LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK
+
+
+    PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT
+    THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+_CONTENTS._
+
+
+        _I. Home_,                               9
+
+       _II. Bob_,                               22
+
+      _III. The Barefoot Visitor_,              39
+
+       _IV. A Night of Terror_,                 49
+
+        _V. The First Shot_,                    60
+
+       _VI. Bob's Verdict_,                     69
+
+      _VII. Peter's Nightmare_,                 80
+
+     _VIII. The Witch_,                         91
+
+       _IX. A Riderless Horse_,                102
+
+        _X. A Voice from the Scrub_,           114
+
+       _XI. Black-fellows_,                    124
+
+      _XII. The Secret of the Thicket_,        136
+
+     _XIII. A Great Surprise_,                 148
+
+      _XIV. A Moonlight Disturbance_,          158
+
+       _XV. Who is in the Boat?_               168
+
+      _XVI. What the Tide brought in_,         177
+
+     _XVII. Mother's Home_,                    188
+
+    _XVIII. Peter makes a Diversion_,          201
+
+      _XIX. The Last Straw_,                   212
+
+       _XX. Breaking the News_,                225
+
+
+
+
+QUEENSLAND COUSINS.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+HOME.
+
+
+"It has come, it has come, it has come! Oh, do be quick, father!"
+
+The cry rang out lustily from three young voices, three eager heads
+were thrust over the veranda railings. Below, on horseback, was a
+big, brown-haired, brown-bearded man, who looked up from under his
+soft slouch hat with a laugh, and exclaimed,--
+
+"What has come, you outrageously noisy youngsters? One would think
+I had a family of dingoes, to hear you."
+
+Then another head appeared over the railings--a gentle-faced,
+fair-haired woman looked down.
+
+"It is the parcel from home, Jack," she said. "Hadji brought it up
+an hour ago."
+
+"Yes, yes, father; it is the parcel from England at last, and
+mother wouldn't open it till you came, so we have been waiting a
+whole hour--the longest hour I have ever lived."
+
+Nesta Orban, to whom one of the first heads over the railing
+belonged, shook back her masses of fair, fluffy hair with an
+impatient little toss.
+
+"Stuff, Nesta; you always say that," exclaimed Eustace, her twin of
+fourteen. "You said it yesterday coming through the scrub because
+you were tired; and the day before when mother made you sew for an
+hour instead of reading; and the day before--"
+
+"Oh, shut up!" Nesta retorted. "You needn't quote pages from my
+biography like that. Let's think about the parcel.--Hurry up, dad,
+darling."
+
+This last she called after her father, for Mr. Orban had not stayed
+a second after his wife's explanation of the excitement.
+
+"The parcel from home," he repeated, all the laughter dying out of
+his face, and he spurred his horse into a trot round the house
+towards the stable.
+
+The heads all came back into the veranda, and there fell a hush of
+expectancy as every one listened for Mr. Orban's footsteps coming
+up through the house.
+
+"La, la, la! look, Nesta. Dolly downside up; Becky done it," piped
+a little voice from the floor.
+
+"Oh, do be quiet, Becky. Think about the parcel from England.
+Perhaps there is something in it for you," said Nesta.
+
+Mrs. Orban had seated herself again in a low wicker chair, and was
+busy sewing--patching a well-worn shirt with utmost patience.
+
+"Don't be cross with Becky," she said gently. "She can't be
+expected at two years old to realize the meaning of a parcel from
+home. I don't believe you do yourself, Nesta. It is just a lot of
+nice things from England to you--only to father and me is it 'a
+parcel from home.'"
+
+Nesta flushed a little and looked grave as she stood by the table
+fingering the string of the wonderful parcel. Such a lot of string
+there was, and so much sewing and writing! Whatever it might
+contain, at least the parcel looked interesting.
+
+The owner of the third head that had looked over the veranda
+railing to shout the news was ten-year-old Peter. It always seemed
+to Nesta and Eustace that he was ever so much younger than they
+were--perhaps because he had been the baby for so many years, till
+Becky came.
+
+"Mother," said Peter, setting himself right in front of her, and
+staring at her with wide blue eyes, "why don't you and father live
+in England when you want to so much?"
+
+Peter was fair, and very like his mother and Nesta. Eustace and
+little Becky were the two who were like their father, brown-haired
+and brown-eyed. Peter had a delicate, sensitive face, and he was
+always wondering about things in a queer, dreamy sort of way.
+
+"It is easier said than done, my little son," Mrs. Orban answered,
+bending low over her sewing that the child might not see the tears
+his question had brought to her eyes. "Father must work."
+
+"But couldn't he work in England just as well as Queensland?" asked
+Peter.
+
+"Unfortunately not," said his mother sadly. "Work is not easy to
+get in England, or anywhere for the matter of that."
+
+Eustace caught the note of sadness in his mother's voice, and
+strolling behind Peter he gave him a kick on the ankle with all the
+air of its being accidental.
+
+"Ow-wow-wow!" exclaimed Peter, hopping on one leg and holding on to
+the other. "You hurt me."
+
+"Sorry," said Eustace carelessly, following him across the veranda.
+
+"La, la, la! dolly upside downey," crooned Becky from the floor,
+where she sat deeply engaged in trying to make her boy doll stand
+on its head as she had seen Eustace do.
+
+"Look here," said Eustace under cover of Becky's singing, "don't
+ask stupid questions, Peter. It always makes mother feel bad to
+talk about England--any silly could see that without being told, I
+should think."
+
+But Peter looked surprised.
+
+"Then you kicked me on purpose," he said, no louder than Eustace
+had spoken.
+
+"Of course," said Eustace.
+
+"What for?" demanded Peter, flushing hotly.
+
+"To make you shut up, that's all," Eustace said coolly.
+
+Peter dropped his injured leg and flung himself upon his brother
+with doubled fists.
+
+"How dare you, you--you horrid boy!" he said chokily, for Peter's
+temper always sprang out like a sheet of flame up muslin curtains.
+
+With a queer little smile, Eustace gripped his slender wrists, and
+held them so that the little chap could do nothing but wriggle
+about like an eel.
+
+"Let me go, I say," he said; "let me go, I tell you. I won't be
+held like a baby."
+
+He had about as much strength as a baby in Eustace's grip, for the
+elder boy was a well-built, square-shouldered fellow, and powerful
+for his age.
+
+Mrs. Orban looked up at the commotion, and wondered what it could
+be all about so suddenly.
+
+"As you are strong, be merciful, Eustace," she said quietly--that
+was all.
+
+Eustace instantly let go, and Peter stood for a second staring down
+at the two red rings round his wrists, then, as Eustace turned
+unconcernedly away, dashed at his back and pommelled it.
+
+"Go on," said Eustace with seeming carelessness, but the words were
+jerked out by the thumps; "my coat hasn't had a brushing for a
+week. Glad to get the dust out of it."
+
+"Peter, Peter," said his mother warningly, "you surely don't want
+to be sent away before the parcel is opened, do you?"
+
+This stopped Peter effectually; a minute later he had forgotten his
+grievance, which was also Peter's way.
+
+"So the great day has come at last," said Mr. Orban, coming out
+from the house on to the veranda, which was so large and spacious
+that it was as useful to the household as several extra rooms.
+
+Mrs. Orban put away her sewing, and every one gathered round the
+table as Mr. Orban began carefully undoing the string.
+
+"Here's my knife, father," Eustace said, with a pleading note in
+his voice.
+
+"Plenty of time, my lad," Mr. Orban said quietly. "One doesn't get
+a bit of string like this every day."
+
+Becky had become infected by the excitement at last, and now
+insisted upon being held up in her mother's arms. All the eager
+eyes were bent on Mr. Orban's hands as he skilfully untied knot
+after knot.
+
+"You won't unpick the sewing on the American cloth too, will you?"
+asked Nesta anxiously.
+
+"No; I think we can cut that, Miss Impatience," laughed her father.
+"Mother could hardly use it again even for hemming floor-cloths."
+
+"I'm not so sure, Jack," said Mrs. Orban; "my stock of cottons is
+running very low. It is time you went away and brought me a fresh
+supply."
+
+Mr. Orban undid the last knot, but instead of taking the knife
+Eustace was still patiently holding out, he began winding up the
+string into a neat coil. The children glanced up in desperation, to
+find his face grave and preoccupied. He looked as if he had
+entirely forgotten the parcel.
+
+"What is it, dear?" said Mrs. Orban, with sudden alarm in her
+voice. "Is anything wrong?"
+
+Mr. Orban roused himself with an effort.
+
+"Oh no," he replied slowly; "nothing wrong exactly. Only your words
+struck me oddly, for, as a matter of fact, I have to go away, and
+soon too."
+
+Eustace glanced quickly at his mother, and the look in her eyes
+made him forget the parcel too.
+
+"Not far, Jack, I hope," she said.
+
+"Rather, I'm afraid," was the answer. "I hope you won't mind being
+left for a week or two."
+
+"A week or two!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban in a tone that was
+unmistakably disturbed.
+
+"I can't do it in less," Mr. Orban went on. "I am obliged to go
+down to Brisbane on business."
+
+"To Brisbane!" Nesta cried. "O dad, couldn't you take us all with
+you? It would be lovely!"
+
+"If you will find the fares, young woman, I shall be delighted,"
+said her father, pinching her ear. "The journey to Brisbane is
+rather an expensive matter. I couldn't afford to take myself there
+just for the fun of the thing."
+
+"When must you go, Jack?" asked Mrs. Orban, trying hard to speak
+steadily and naturally.
+
+"Next week--as soon as possible, that is," Mr. Orban said; "and I
+will get back just as quick as I can. You will be all right, dear.
+I will tell Farley or Robertson to sleep up here in the house, and
+you won't feel so lonely at night."
+
+"Oh no, no," Mrs. Orban said, "don't do that. They have both got
+their wives and families to look after. Eustace will be an
+efficient man of the house and companion to his mummie--won't you,
+son?"
+
+"I'll do my best," Eustace said soberly.
+
+To be quite honest, he was as startled as his mother at his
+father's announcement; he did not like the idea at all. He had
+caught that curious look in his mother's eyes, and it troubled him.
+
+But Nesta was too much taken up with the thought of the parcel to
+notice anything except the delay in opening it.
+
+"Couldn't we go on?" she pleaded.
+
+"Poor Nesta," said Mr. Orban, beginning to cut the sewing, "is it
+getting beyond your patience altogether? Well, here goes then!"
+
+Inside the American cloth was yet another wrapper, this time of
+linen sewn up most carefully, and within that paper after paper.
+The excitement grew more and more tense, till at last, when they
+came to a series of neat packages, each with a label to say from
+whom and to whom the gift was, every one except Becky was beyond
+speaking point.
+
+The joys that parcel contained were indescribable, because no child
+born and bred in England could be made to understand how wonderful,
+how undreamed of, how surprising were the most ordinary things to
+those four Bush children. They lived right out of the world, and
+had spent most of their lives on a sugar plantation in North
+Queensland; the common things of our everyday existence were
+marvels to them.
+
+A clockwork train sent out to Peter with a hope that "he was not
+too old for it" fascinated Eustace, despite his four years'
+seniority; the exquisite little doll's dinner service for Becky set
+Nesta longing to play with it and cook pretence dinners for it.
+
+There was something for every one, and the children's eyes shone
+with pleasure; but Mrs. Orban's were dim as, the unpacking over,
+she turned quietly away and disappeared into the house.
+
+In the midst of turning the pages of his new book to look for
+pictures, Eustace missed her, and shortly after Mr. Orban went away
+too.
+
+"Oh!" Eustace exclaimed, slamming his book together with a big
+sigh, "I do wish parcels from England didn't always make mother
+sad."
+
+"I guess she wants to see grannie and Aunt Dorothy badly," Nesta
+suggested.
+
+"Oh, it is more than that," Eustace said, getting up and moving
+restlessly about. "I sometimes think she simply hates this place
+and everything to do with it."
+
+"Do you, Eustace?" asked Peter, his eyes round with wonder.
+
+"Well, it is fearfully dull, isn't it?" Nesta said. "England must
+be quite different. English stories always make me ache to go
+there. It must be so awfully interesting, mustn't it?"
+
+"Wouldn't it be splendid if father said suddenly one day we could
+all go to England!" Peter cried excitedly.
+
+"I don't think there is the least chance of that," Eustace said.
+"You heard what he said about its being too expensive to take us
+even to Brisbane. It would cost ten times as much to go to
+England."
+
+"I say," Nesta said quickly, "I wonder why father has to go to
+Brisbane in such a hurry? Don't you, Eustace?"
+
+"I haven't thought about it," Eustace answered. "But, anyhow,
+mother doesn't like his going--that's very clear."
+
+"Doesn't she?" Nesta asked in a surprised voice. "How _do_ you
+know?"
+
+"Didn't you see her face when father said he must go?" Eustace
+asked with a touch of impatience.
+
+Nesta shook her head.
+
+"Oh!" was all Eustace exclaimed; then he turned, and resting his
+elbows on the railings, stared straight ahead with unseeing eyes.
+
+The Orbans' house was built on the top of an isolated hill three
+hundred feet above a valley which, except where the scrub had been
+cleared for the growing of sugar-cane, was thickly wooded. On three
+sides of the valley, stretching round like a great horse-shoe, lay
+range upon range of hills, now softest purple. The fourth side, on
+which the boy gazed, was bounded by the sea--a shimmering patch of
+blue. No scene could have been grander, none more infinitely
+lonely. But Eustace was not thinking about it either admiringly or
+otherwise.
+
+Nesta joined her brother, and stared curiously at his unusually
+serious face.
+
+"What do you mean, Eustace?" she demanded.
+
+He did not speak, so she put her hand on his shoulder and gave him
+a little shake.
+
+"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
+
+"Mother," Eustace said quite shortly.
+
+"Yes, I know," Nesta said; "but what about her?"
+
+"Father's going away," Eustace said.
+
+"Of course," Nesta said, rather scornfully; "you told me that
+before. And I know mother will be dreadfully dull without him."
+
+"Dull!" exclaimed Eustace, knocking the tips of his toes
+impatiently against the woodwork.
+
+"Yes, dull," said the girl.
+
+"Worse than dull," Eustace responded soberly.
+
+"But we can do our best to cheer her up till he comes back."
+
+Eustace turned slowly round until he was staring right into Nesta's
+eyes, and his look was so queer that she was startled.
+
+"Do you mean to say you don't understand?" he said solemnly.
+
+"No, I certainly don't," Nesta replied.
+
+Eustace wheeled quickly back to the railing, gazing seaward again.
+
+"Then I'm not going to tell you," he said decidedly.
+
+Nesta stood blankly wondering for a moment.
+
+"Well, it's hateful of you," she began; then suddenly her
+expression changed. "Eustace," she exclaimed, grabbing his arm with
+both hands, "do you mean mother will be frightened?"
+
+"I'm not going to tell you," repeated the boy with seeming
+obstinacy.
+
+But Nesta's face was full of certainty.
+
+"It _is_ that!" she said with conviction. "You think she will be
+scared at being left."
+
+Now Eustace had suddenly begun to repent of having said so much. He
+had not the least desire to frighten Nesta; he had honestly
+believed that she must have noticed what he did in their mother's
+tone and look, but now he realized Nesta had not understood. He
+stood silent, regretting his carelessness.
+
+"O Eustace," Nesta cried, "of course it is that. How dreadful! I
+remember now what father said--he knew mother might be frightened,
+and that is why he offered to have Farley or Robertson up."
+
+There was terror in Nesta's voice now, and Eustace rounded sharply
+upon her.
+
+"I say, shut up!" he said, with a glance towards Peter, who was too
+engrossed with his train at the other side of the veranda to be
+listening. "You don't want to frighten the kids, do you? Besides,
+father said we should be all right, and he knows."
+
+"But mother was frightened," Nesta said, looking unconvinced.
+
+"She didn't say so," Eustace argued. "She refused to have either
+of the men up, you see. That doesn't look much like funking it."
+
+"Then what did you mean?" demanded Nesta.
+
+"Oh, never mind," Eustace said, throwing himself into a chair and
+reopening his book. "Don't let's talk about it."
+
+"That is nonsense," Nesta said. "How can I help minding about a
+thing like that?"
+
+"Well, but what's the good of talking?" Eustace exclaimed. "Dad has
+to go; we can't prevent that if we talk for ever."
+
+"Yes; but if it is dangerous--" Nesta began in a low, awe-struck
+voice.
+
+"Dangerous!" Eustace repeated. "What could there be dangerous about
+it?"
+
+"You know as well as I do," Nesta replied. "Supposing the blacks
+were to come down on us in the night when we were here all alone!"
+
+"Oh, do shut up!" Eustace said sharply. "Why should the blacks
+happen to come just because father is away? They may not even be in
+the neighbourhood."
+
+"Yes; but you remember that horrid story Kate told us," Nesta said,
+almost whispering. "The father was away--there were nothing but
+women and children in the house--"
+
+"Oh, stop, Nesta!" Eustace said. "Of course I remember all about
+it. I don't want to hear the beastly thing all over again. What is
+the good of frightening ourselves all for nothing? Don't you know
+that father wouldn't go if he could possibly help it? And if he
+must go, we've got to make the best of it, that's all. Now I'm
+going to read, so do shut up."
+
+Nesta stood silently staring at him a moment, but he seemed
+already to have forgotten her very existence.
+
+"Well, you are a queer boy," she said, in what the boys always
+called her "huffy" voice.
+
+Still Eustace took no notice.
+
+"Perhaps you will be sorry some day," Nesta said with a little
+gulp, and turned away to Becky, who was calling her.
+
+Eustace was apparently engrossed in his book, but not a word did
+he see on the page he stared at so intently. He had done a stupid
+thing, and he regretted it, for the mischief was past remedy now.
+Quite unintentionally he had made Nesta as nervous as he was
+himself, and he knew that nothing he might say would reassure her.
+He was quite right that there was no use in talking about it; he
+felt sure that his father would say he ought not to have said so
+much, and he was vexed with himself for his carelessness. Silence
+seemed the only course open to him--silence on the subject for the
+present, and for the future a great, whole-hearted resolve to play
+the man come what might.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+BOB.
+
+
+Eustace was right: their father would not have gone to Brisbane had
+it not been necessary; but this was not because Mr. Orban was
+troubled by any fears for the safety of his family. He had lived so
+long in North Queensland that he was used to the solitude, and
+thought nothing of the dangers surrounding them. It distressed him
+to have to go away simply because he knew that his wife would be
+terribly nervous without him. Fifteen years in the colony had not
+accustomed her to the loneliness of their position.
+
+Besides the two engineers, and the field manager, Mr. Ashton, who
+all lived at the foot of the hill, the Orbans had no white
+neighbours nearer than five miles off. The field hands were
+coloured men of some five or six different races, chiefly Chinese
+or Malays--the good-for-nothing riff-raff of their own countries
+come to seek a living elsewhere.
+
+There was no society, no constant dropping in of friends, nothing
+to relieve the monotony of daily life. But none of this did Mrs.
+Orban mind; she was always busy and content by day. It was only of
+the night-time she was afraid, when strange-voiced creatures were
+never silent an hour, weird cries from the scrub pierced the air,
+and there arose from the plantation below wild sounds, sometimes of
+revelry over a feast, the beating of tom-toms, and wailing of
+voices as the natives conducted their heathen worship, or indulged
+in noisy quarrels likely to end in bloodshed between antagonistic
+tribes.
+
+But though for some reasons the coolies were not pleasant
+neighbours, the house on the hill had nothing to fear from them.
+Their worst feature was their utter uselessness in any real danger,
+coming from quite another quarter. Though they might serve him
+solely for their own benefit, and were for the most part thieves
+and rogues, the coolies had no desire to harm the white man
+personally.
+
+But wandering stealthily through the woods, homeless and lawless,
+is a race that hates the white man--the aborigines of Australia.
+Civilization has driven them farther and farther north, for the
+Australian black-fellows cannot be tamed and trained--their
+nature is too wild and fierce to be kept within bounds except
+by fear and crushing. They are treacherous and savage, and most
+repulsive in appearance. Though spoken of as black, they are
+really chocolate-brown, but so covered with hair as to be very
+dusky.
+
+Being very cunning in their movements, it is always difficult to
+know where they are, and there are often such long lapses between
+the times they are heard of, that most people forget their
+existence as a matter of any importance. But Mr. Orban knew that
+his wife was haunted by a very constant horror of them--a dread
+lest one night the blacks should make a raid upon their plantation,
+as they had been known to do upon other white men's dwellings.
+
+What neither Mr. nor Mrs. Orban realized was how much Eustace and
+Nesta knew of certain terrible events happening from time to time
+in just such isolated homes as their own. It was from the two young
+white maidservants the children heard tales they listened to with a
+kind of awful enjoyment by day, but which were remembered at night
+with a shudder. The creaking of the wooden house in which they
+lived as the boards contracted after the tropical heat of day, and
+the weird sounds rising from the plantation below, held a hundred
+terrors to be ashamed of in the morning.
+
+Eustace and Nesta never spoke of these night panics to any one,
+least of all to each other--they seemed so silly when broad
+daylight proved there had been absolutely nothing to be cowardly
+about.
+
+By some unspoken rule Peter was never allowed to hear these
+stories. He was always considered so very much younger than Eustace
+and Nesta that even the servants had the sense not to frighten him.
+So Peter's spirits were not damped by the thought of their father's
+departure, and he knew nothing of the queer little tiff that had
+taken place between Eustace and Nesta.
+
+It is very odd how people can quarrel over a matter upon which they
+are perfectly agreed; but they frequently do, especially when it
+has anything to do with fear.
+
+Nesta went to bed that night still in the sulks, with an air of
+"You'll be sorry some day" about her every attitude. Eustace seemed
+inseparable from his book, and disinclined to talk. He went heavily
+to bed, more troubled than ever because, though his mother was
+unusually merry, making much of all the presents from England, and
+showing great interest in them, he saw she was very white, and
+there was still a strange look about her eyes. He suspected her
+gaiety to be only put on for their amusement, and he felt sorrier
+and sorrier for her.
+
+But a good night's rest did wonders for both children, and they
+came in to breakfast in better humours. Nesta forgot to be tragic
+when she heard her father and mother discussing what material
+should be brought from Brisbane for the girls' new dresses. New
+clothes were a rare event for the Orban children, and always caused
+a good deal of excitement.
+
+Eustace had been up early, and everything looked so calm, peaceful,
+and ordinary about the place that he was inclined to be more than
+half ashamed of his outburst the day before. "After all," he
+argued, "nothing ever has happened to us--why should it now? The
+black-fellows have never come this way. Why should they, just
+because father is away? How could they get to know of his going?
+Besides, the plantation isn't so awfully far off."
+
+He had stood on the veranda and stared down at the sugar mill lying
+at the foot of the hill, where Robertson and Farley lived; at Mr.
+Ashton's house, and all the familiar, odd-shaped huts in which the
+coolies lived. It was all just as he had seen it every day of his
+life, and nothing had ever happened--why, indeed, should it now?
+
+Mrs. Orban's interest in the new dresses was certainly not
+feigned.
+
+"Now, Jack," she was saying as Eustace entered the room,
+"don't--don't go and ask for dusters. It is that pretty pink and
+blue check zephyr I want--pink for Becky, and blue for Nesta."
+
+"Well, dear, you must confess it is just like duster stuff--now,
+isn't it?" demanded Mr. Orban with a laugh.
+
+"O daddy, not a bit!" Nesta exclaimed. "What a horrid thought!"
+
+"Some of mother's dusters are very pretty, young woman," said her
+father. "I wouldn't mind having shirts made of them myself."
+
+"I should object very much," Mrs. Orban said with a laugh; "you
+would look like a coolie. But let us talk sense again."
+
+Talking sense meant talking business, which on this occasion was
+the making out of a list of really rather dull things wanted in the
+house.
+
+Daily life begins early on a sugar plantation. It was now only
+half-past six, and the house had been astir since half-past four;
+the children playing, Mrs. Orban working about the house, and Mr.
+Orban away down on the plantation. The comparative cool of the
+morning was the best time for any sort of activity. Later, as the
+fierce December sun rose higher, even the children became listless
+and disinclined to race about.
+
+After breakfast, when Mr. Orban went back to work, Mrs. Orban gave
+the children lessons--the only teaching they had ever had. At
+eleven Mr. Orban returned for early dinner.
+
+To our English ideas the routine seems strange; but the Orban
+children were used to it, and had no realization of how different
+was life in their parents' old home. It did not seem at all funny
+even to the twins to have tea at five, and go to bed at half-past
+six or seven. They were generally very ready for sleep by then,
+after their long, exhausting day.
+
+"I say, father," Eustace said suddenly, after a long meditation
+while business was being discussed, "I can stay up to dinner with
+mother when you are away--can't I? It will be awfully dull for her
+if I don't."
+
+"And me too," said Nesta, who never allowed it to be forgotten
+that, being the same age as Eustace, she claimed the same
+privileges.
+
+"Rot," said Eustace; "you're only a girl."
+
+"And me too," chimed in Peter.
+
+"Oh, you silly baby," said Eustace impatiently, "what good would
+you do?"
+
+Peter's delicate face became scarlet.
+
+"I could play games with mother quite as well as you," he said with
+an angry frown.
+
+"Mother doesn't want amusing like that to keep her from being
+dull," Eustace declared. "She wants somebody who can talk sensibly
+like father, and be grown up."
+
+Nesta gave a little derisive laugh.
+
+"Like father!" she repeated; "that is funny. I suppose you think
+you could be just like him. Why don't you ask him to let you smoke
+one of his pipes at once?"
+
+"Don't be silly, Nesta," Eustace retorted.
+
+"It's you who are silly," Nesta said, "thinking only boys can be
+grown up or of any use."
+
+"When you have quite done snapping each other's heads off,"
+interposed their father in his deep, quiet voice, "perhaps you will
+allow me to speak. As a matter of fact, the mother thinks of going
+to bed with the cocks and hens herself."
+
+"To bed with the cocks and hens!" repeated Peter, with an
+expression of blank surprise in his blue eyes.
+
+Now the cocks and hens many of them roosted under the house, which
+was built on pillars, and set some distance above the ground. It
+was not an attractive spot at any time, for here there also lived
+many strange creatures, snakes amongst them.
+
+"Well, not exactly in the henhouse, Peter," said his father, with a
+twinkle in his eyes. "I dare say she will sleep as usual in her own
+bedroom. I was referring more to the hour at which she says she
+means to go to bed--not very long after you."
+
+"Still you will have dinner--won't you, mummie?" Eustace said.
+
+"Certainly," Mrs. Orban answered with a smile; "and I don't think
+it would be a bad plan for you and Nesta to stay up for it, if you
+will promise not to get up quite so early in the morning. We will
+have dinner directly after Peter and Becky are in bed; but we won't
+sit up late ourselves, any of us."
+
+Mrs. Orban certainly showed no signs of nervousness to-day; the
+strained expression had left her eyes; she was laughing and talking
+quite naturally.
+
+"I suppose," thought Eustace, "she was partly upset by the parcel
+from England."
+
+"Father," Nesta exclaimed, "I'm certain I hear a horse coming up
+the hill. Who can it be at this time of day?"
+
+"Don't know, I'm sure," said her father; "it might be one of a
+dozen people. You had better go and sing out 'friend or foe' over
+the veranda; but I dare say it isn't a horse at all. More probably
+it is old Hadji with the mail bag that ought to have come with the
+parcel yesterday."
+
+But the three elder children had disappeared out on to the veranda
+and were leaning over, straining their eyes down the road that
+wound up the hill from the plain.
+
+It was a very rough road, with ruts in it sometimes two or three
+feet deep. During the rains little better than a bog, it was now
+burnt hard as flint.
+
+There was nothing to be seen though a mile of road was visible,
+lost now and then among bends; but the children listened
+breathlessly, and at last Eustace said,--
+
+"It is two horses and a four-wheel buggy, and it has only just
+begun the hill. Let's go in and tell father."
+
+"Oh, what a bother it is so far off!" Nesta exclaimed, with a sigh
+of impatience. "We shall have to wait ages to find out who it is."
+
+"Who do you think it can be, father?" Peter asked, as Eustace
+explained what he believed to be coming.
+
+"How should I know?" Mr. Orban answered with mock seriousness.
+
+"It might be a magician with milk-white steeds, or a fairy
+godmother, Peter, in a coach made out of pumpkins," said Mrs.
+Orban.
+
+"O mother!" Peter cried impatiently, "don't be silly--"
+
+The sentence was never completed; it finished in a howl of mingled
+pain and rage.
+
+"What on earth is the matter now?" asked Mr. Orban.
+
+"Eustace ki-ki-kicked me," stormed Peter, making a dive at his
+brother with doubled fists; but his father caught him and held him
+pinioned.
+
+"I can pretty well guess why," said the big man severely. "If he
+hadn't, I should have spanked you myself. How dare you say 'don't
+be silly' to your mother?"
+
+Peter hung his head.
+
+"I didn't mean--" he began.
+
+"I should just think you didn't mean it," said his father. "You'll
+kindly remember you've no right by birth to be a cad, and it is
+caddish for a gentleman to speak like that to a lady--whether he is
+ten years old or a hundred."
+
+"Besides," said Eustace, looking furiously at the small culprit,
+"mother couldn't be silly if she tried."
+
+Peter's humbled expression changed.
+
+"It wasn't for you to kick me," he spluttered resentfully; "I'll
+kick you back."
+
+"Oh, if you like to be a donkey," began Eustace in a lordly tone.
+
+"Who was donkey first?" demanded Peter.
+
+"I guess," said Nesta, who was accustomed to these scenes, "the
+buggy may be in sight at the first bend by now. I'm going to look."
+
+Eustace followed.
+
+"Well, Peter, what comes next?" asked Mr. Orban, without letting go
+the child's wrists.
+
+Peter looked over his shoulder towards his mother--the blue eyes
+were swimming with tears, there was a choke in his voice.
+
+"I'm sorry, mummie," he gasped.
+
+The next moment he was clasped in his mother's arms, there was a
+manful struggle with gathering tears, and then like an arrow from a
+bow Peter was off to the veranda with every intention of thumping
+Eustace soundly. But the news that greeted him there put the recent
+fray right out of his mind.
+
+"It is a buggy, Peter," said Nesta, "and I believe Bob Cochrane is
+driving it."
+
+Now the Cochranes were the Orbans' nearest neighbours--the family
+that lived only five miles away. It consisted of a father and
+mother and this young fellow Robert, who was six-and-twenty, the
+idol and greatest admiration of the Orban children's hearts. In
+their eyes there was nothing Bob could not do; his shooting, his
+driving and riding, his jokes, his ways--everything about him was
+wonderful. A visit from Bob was a splendid event, no matter what
+the hour of the day.
+
+Bob had a sister who was about the twins' age, and Nesta's only
+friend.
+
+"It looks just like Bob's driving," said Eustace.
+
+Then they waited with eager faces, too excited to speak, till
+suddenly they all cried at once,--
+
+"It is Bob--it is--it is--it is!"
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Orban came out on to the veranda, Becky toddling
+behind.
+
+"There is no doubt about it," said Mr. Orban as he watched the
+jolting, bumping carriage toiling up the terribly steep hill that
+was almost too much for the horses, fine beasts though they were.
+
+"How strange of him to come in the buggy instead of riding, as he
+is alone," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Yes," chimed in Nesta, "that was just what I was thinking. Bob
+always--always rides, excepting--"
+
+She paused to think whether she had ever seen Bob driving before,
+and Eustace finished her sentence for her.
+
+"Excepting when he doesn't," he said.
+
+"Goose," said Nesta tartly.
+
+"Or, more correctly speaking, 'gander,'" said Mr. Orban. "Well, we
+needn't squeeze our heads to a pulp trying to guess what we shall
+learn from Bob without the slightest trouble in another twenty
+minutes at most."
+
+When Bob Cochrane came within earshot he was greeted with such a
+chorus of yells that not a single word could he hear of what the
+children were trying to say. He grinned back good-humouredly,
+waved, and whipping up his horses, came as fast as he could under
+the veranda. Then he gathered the meaning of the noise.
+
+"What have you come for, Bob?" shouted the three.
+
+"What have I come for?" he repeated, with his particular laugh
+which had a way of setting every one else off laughing too as a
+rule. "Well, upon my word, that is a nice polite way to greet a
+chap. I had better be off again."
+
+He was big, fair-haired, and gray-eyed, not handsome, but far too
+manly for that to matter. As Manuel the Manila boy ran round the
+house to take charge of the horses, Bob got down from the buggy and
+sprang up the veranda steps in contradiction of his own words. He
+was surrounded at the top by the children, all talking at once.
+Without an attempt at answering, he picked up Becky, who adored him
+with the rest, and passed on to Mr. and Mrs. Orban.
+
+"I apologize for the disorder," Mr. Orban said, "but they have been
+working themselves up into a fever of expectation ever since they
+first heard the buggy wheels. Seriously though, I hope nothing is
+wrong at home. Your mother isn't ill, is she? You haven't come to
+fetch the wife as nurse, or anything?"
+
+Such friendly acts as these were the common courtesies of their
+simple colonial life. But Bob only laughed now.
+
+"Oh, nothing wrong at all," he replied. "Mater is right enough; it
+is only Trix who is the trouble now. She doesn't seem to pick up
+after that last bout of fever, and she is so awfully depressed and
+lonely, mother thought if you would let me take a couple of the
+children--Nesta and another--back with me for a week, it might
+brighten the kiddy up. Could you spare them, Mrs. Orban?"
+
+"With pleasure," began Mrs. Orban readily, when Nesta started a
+sort of war-dance with accompanying cries of delight.
+
+"When you have quite done!" said Bob, with a solemn stare that
+quelled the disturbance after a moment. "I shan't have an ear to
+hear with by the time I get home, at this rate. Well, who is the
+other one to be? You, Eustace?"
+
+Eustace coloured deeply. There was nothing he would have liked
+better. To go to the Highlands, as the Cochranes' plantation was
+called, was the greatest pleasure that could have been offered
+him--the treat had only come his way about twice in his life. It
+meant so much--rides with Bob, shooting with Bob, long rambles
+always with his hero.
+
+"I should like to awfully," he said, and stopped, looking
+beseechingly at his father.
+
+"Why, what's the matter, old chap?" asked Bob in a kindly voice.
+"You're as limp as if all the starch had been boiled out of you.
+Come along if you want to, of course. Peter can come another time,
+if it's afraid of being selfish that you are."
+
+"But it isn't that," Eustace said with difficulty. "I mean I can't.
+You see, father is going away, and I couldn't leave mother."
+
+Bob darted a quick look at Mr. Orban.
+
+"Are you really going away?" he asked--"any distance, I mean?"
+
+"Unfortunately, yes," Mr. Orban said gravely. "I have to be away
+about a fortnight or three weeks. I go the day after to-morrow."
+
+Bob looked serious.
+
+"Oh, I say," he said, "I'm sorry."
+
+To Nesta, standing there in the sunshine, with a great big pleasure
+ahead of her, the words conveyed nothing beyond a civil sympathy
+with the annoyance it must be to Mr. Orban to have to go away on
+business. To Eustace, who must stay behind, there was something
+underlying those few words that brought back all the fears of the
+day before.
+
+"It is a nuisance, but it can't be helped," Mr. Orban said;
+"business won't wait."
+
+"I am sorry," repeated Bob, with that same strange solemnity,
+"because I can't offer to come and stay here while you are away.
+Father is going away too, and of course I couldn't leave the mater
+and Trix. If only it hadn't happened just now--"
+
+"It is very good of you to think of it, Bob," said Mrs. Orban, "but
+of course we shall be perfectly safe. I think I would rather you
+took Peter, though," she added in a lower tone. "Eustace is more
+companionable. I can spare one of the twins, but not both at once."
+
+"Of course," agreed Bob.
+
+He was strangely unlike his usual cheerful self, but he roused
+himself, as every one seemed to be looking at him, and added,
+"Could the children be ready to go back with me soon?"
+
+"Stay till the heat is over, and drive home in the cool with them,"
+suggested Mr. Orban. "I'll say good-bye for the present; I'm due at
+the plantation."
+
+Eustace was left alone with Bob, for the others went with their
+mother to watch her preparations for their departure.
+
+"Well, old man," questioned Bob from the depths of a cane chair,
+where he had flung himself for a quiet smoke, "what's up?"
+
+Eustace stood staring at him.
+
+"I say," he said with some difficulty, "it's beastly about father
+going, isn't it?"
+
+"Rather," said Bob carelessly. "Mrs. Orban will feel awfully dull."
+
+"That isn't the worst of it," said the lad mysteriously.
+
+"Really?" questioned Bob indifferently, as he packed his pipe with
+great apparent interest.
+
+"You know it isn't, Bob," Eustace broke out desperately.
+
+"Do I?" questioned Bob lazily, but with a shrewd glance at the
+thin, pale face before him. "Why, what's the trouble?"
+
+"It's the black-fellows," Eustace said in a half whisper.
+
+Bob raised his eyebrows a little, and was again attentive to his
+pipe.
+
+"Indeed?" he said; "what about them?"
+
+"They are all round us in the scrub; you never know where they
+are," Eustace said with a gulp.
+
+"They always are, and one never does," said Bob lightly. "I don't
+see that it matters. Are you in a funk about them?"
+
+The cool question brought crimson to Eustace's cheeks.
+
+"No," he said sturdily, "but they are a fearfully low grade lot,
+and--and they have done some awful things in lonely places, out of
+revenge, on white people."
+
+Bob looked up sharply.
+
+"What do you know about it?" he asked in a voice that sounded
+almost stern.
+
+"The servants--Kate and Mary--have told us stories," Eustace
+explained.
+
+"Oh, they have, have they?" Bob positively snorted in indignation.
+"Then they deserve to be sacked."
+
+He was silent a long time, puffing out volumes of smoke, then he
+said suddenly,--
+
+"Look here, Eustace, don't get stupid and frightened about the
+black-fellows. Your father has never done them any harm; they have
+nothing to revenge here, for he hasn't interfered with any of
+them."
+
+"But Kate says that doesn't matter," Eustace said dismally. "She
+says they have a deadly hatred against all white people."
+
+"Kate is an ignorant goose," growled Bob; "much she can know about
+it! Why, my father has had black-fellows in his employment for
+years, and they've been all right. Don't you listen to Kate's
+nonsense."
+
+There was silence awhile, then Bob went on,--
+
+"But I tell you what I'll do, if it will be any comfort to Mrs.
+Orban. I'll come over nearly every day and hang about the place as
+if I were living here. How would that do?"
+
+"I should like it, of course, and I believe mother would," said the
+boy slowly.
+
+"Of course you would be all right anyhow," Bob said bracingly.
+
+"Of course," repeated Eustace with less certainty, hesitated, then
+went on haltingly, "but supposing--of course I believe you,
+Bob--but just only supposing one night some black-fellows did turn
+up, what should you do?"
+
+"I should shoot them," Bob said promptly.
+
+"But if you were me?" questioned Eustace.
+
+"Oh, if I were you," repeated Bob thoughtfully. "Well, of course,
+you wouldn't shoot them--they wouldn't be scared enough of a chap
+your size. On the whole, I think if I were you I should scoot down
+the hill as hard as I could go for Robertson, Farley, and Ashton.
+They would soon settle matters."
+
+"But that would be leaving mother to face them alone," objected
+Eustace.
+
+Bob stared solemnly for one moment, then broke into a laugh.
+
+"Cheer up, old boy," he exclaimed; "you look as if you had a whole
+tribe at your heels this minute. Why, what has happened to you? I
+thought you had more spirit than to be scared by a pack of silly
+maids' stories."
+
+The laugh was so genuine, the look in Bob's eyes so quizzical, that
+Eustace felt suddenly abashed, and as if he had been making a
+stupid fuss about nothing. With all his heart he wished he had not
+mentioned the subject to Bob--Bob whose opinion he valued above all
+others, except, perhaps, his own father's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE BAREFOOT VISITOR.
+
+
+When Mr. Orban came home to dinner he brought with him another
+excitement--the mail letters that Hadji ought to have brought with
+the parcel the day before.
+
+To Bob Cochrane, whose parents were Australian born and bred, this
+meant nothing; but he was so intimate with the Orbans that he
+understood their feelings on the subject. He sat silently puffing
+at his pipe while Mr. and Mrs. Orban read their letters. Eustace,
+Nesta, and Peter had seized on some packets which they knew to
+contain English papers and magazines.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Orban gave a curious exclamation, and all eyes were
+turned questioningly upon her.
+
+"Mother, mother, what is it?" cried Nesta, noting the colour
+flooding her mother's usually pale face.
+
+"Any news, darling?" asked Mr. Orban.
+
+"I should just think it is news," said Mrs. Orban unsteadily.
+"Listen to this, Jack: 'Dorothy has been so very slow in her
+recovery from the terrible bout of typhoid she had in spring that
+the doctor advises a long sea voyage at once, and we have decided
+to send her out to you by the first boat available. We go up to
+London to-morrow to get her outfit.'"
+
+"Aunt Dorothy!" yelled the children. "Aunt Dorothy coming here!"
+
+It was a most surprising piece of news, almost incredibly so. The
+children had never seen any of their parents' people, as none of
+them had been over to Queensland. They knew them only by name and
+the oft-repeated tales of childhood, which were their favourite
+stories of all Mr. and Mrs. Orban told.
+
+This was their mother's unmarried sister, Dorothy Chase, who lived
+with her father and mother in Herefordshire, in the "old home" the
+children knew so well by hearsay, and longed so much to see. Some
+one coming out from England was next best to going home, and the
+news produced the wildest commotion of questions and suggestions.
+
+"When will she come, mother? When can she be here?" came in chorus.
+
+"Well, I am sure I don't know," Mrs. Orban said; "but it seems to
+me she will not be very far behind this letter."
+
+"Not more than a fortnight, I should think," said Mr. Orban. "You
+see they are hurrying her off."
+
+"O mummie, this is exciting!" Nesta exclaimed. "Do tell us how old
+Aunt Dorothy is!"
+
+"Just twenty-three. She was a little child when I last saw her, and
+I can never picture her grown up."
+
+"Twenty-three is a decent age for girls," said Eustace.
+
+"Out of a vast and varied experience speaks Sir Eustace," laughed
+Bob--and Eustace reddened.
+
+"Twenty-three," said Mr. Orban. "Fancy little Dot twenty-three!
+There'll be a big change in her."
+
+"There must be a big change in every one, Jack," Mrs. Orban sighed.
+"What wouldn't I give to see them all!"
+
+"The next thing we shall hear," remarked Bob solemnly, "is that you
+will be clearing out to England--the whole lot of you. I don't
+think I like the idea of Miss Dorothy coming at all. She will
+bewitch you, and off you will all go."
+
+"No such luck," cried Nesta impulsively.
+
+"Alas! an impossibility," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+Mr. Orban said nothing, but looked very grave.
+
+These few words, however, could only shadow the great excitement a
+moment. Mrs. Orban returned to her letter, and read interesting
+little scraps from time to time, such as "'I am cudgelling my
+brains in the hurry to think of everything I can send you--it is
+such a grand opportunity--I wish I had time to get a list of wants
+from you--but I dare say nothing will come amiss. Frocks for the
+girls and yourself, of course--'"
+
+"Darling gran!" cried Nesta.
+
+"Then I needn't get the duster stuff," said Mr. Orban.
+
+"No, none of the clothes," said Mrs. Orban. "I know what grannie is
+when she gets a chance to send a box."
+
+Nesta and Peter went off in high spirits with Bob later in the day,
+Nesta exacting many promises that should Aunt Dorothy by some
+miracle appear before she was expected, Mrs. Orban would send for
+the children back.
+
+Eustace let the party go without a pang; he was actually glad not
+to be going. So taken up was he with the new idea that he even
+forgot his fear lest he had made a bad impression on the great Bob.
+
+There was so much to be thought of in the preparations for Miss
+Chase's arrival that even Mr. Orban's departure two mornings later
+left no one depressed. Up to the last Mrs. Orban was wondering
+whether there was anything she could think of that could be brought
+from Brisbane for their visitor's greater comfort.
+
+"She will be used to such a different life," Mrs. Orban said. "I do
+hope she won't mind roughing it."
+
+"Not she," said Mr. Orban heartily. "She will like it all the
+better if we make no changes for her, but just let her see life as
+we live it. After all, it is only for a time with her."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, my darling old man," said Mrs. Orban gaily that evening, as
+she and Eustace sat alone at late dinner, "how does it feel to be
+'man of the house'? Do you feel a great burden of responsibility as
+mummie's guardian and protector?"
+
+"I don't know, mummie," said Eustace.
+
+He was looking very grave, for now that the lamps were lighted and
+it was dusk outside everything felt different again.
+
+The veranda ran round the entire house; only on one side was there
+a flight of steps down to the ground. The drawing-room opened out
+on to the other side of the house, facing the sea. It was here Mrs.
+Orban and Eustace went after dinner, for the day had been
+exhaustingly hot, and now a slight breeze blew landwards.
+
+But for the rustling of leaves and a distant murmur from the
+plantation, the night was very still. As she meant to go to bed so
+early, Mrs. Orban did not have lamps brought out on to the veranda;
+she and Eustace sat close together in the gloom, their only light a
+faint golden streak from the drawing-room.
+
+Becky had been in bed a long time, and was fast asleep. For a while
+they could hear the servants clearing away the dinner; then there
+was silence even in that quarter, and they knew that Mary and Kate
+had gone to bed.
+
+"We ought to be going too, I think, my man," Mrs. Orban said
+softly.
+
+Eustace slipped down on to a stool at her feet and rested his head
+against her knee.
+
+"O mummie," he pleaded, "not just yet. Couldn't you tell me a story
+first?"
+
+"I could, of course," Mrs. Orban admitted slowly, "but the question
+is, Ought I to? It is getting late for you."
+
+"But it is awfully early for you," Eustace argued. "I don't believe
+you will sleep if you go now. You always say you can't if you go to
+bed too soon. You see, we needn't get up quite so early, as father
+isn't here to go out to the plantation."
+
+"That is true," said Mrs. Orban with a laugh. "I really think we
+shall have to make a barrister of you, Eustace, you plead a cause
+so eloquently. But what kind of story shall I tell you?"
+
+"Oh, one of the old home stories, please," he said instantly. "I
+should like to know all I can about it before Aunt Dorothy comes."
+
+"I wonder if there are any I have not told you," Mrs. Orban said
+thoughtfully.
+
+"There must be hundreds," Eustace said. "I always think Maze Court
+must have stories without end."
+
+"We used to think so, I remember," said his mother; "but I suppose
+that is always the case with a house when one family has possessed
+and occupied it for so many generations."
+
+"It is a sixteenth-century house, isn't it?" Eustace asked.
+
+"Seventeenth century," was the answer, "built in 1688 by Eustace
+Chase, a loyal subject of the king. His father lost everything for
+the cause, and the young man was rewarded for following the
+Royalist fortunes--or rather misfortunes--soon after the king came
+to his own again."
+
+Eustace gave a huge sigh.
+
+"I do like belonging to people like that," he said with
+satisfaction.
+
+There was a long silence.
+
+"Mummie--the story," prompted Eustace at last.
+
+"I was just hunting my memory for one," said his mother. "Did you
+ever hear how we lost Aunt Dorothy?"
+
+Eustace shook his head and settled himself comfortably to listen,
+so Mrs. Orban went on:--
+
+"One summer we gave a large party for young people. It happens that
+several of us have birthdays in the summer, and this was a sort of
+combined birthday treat. So we invited friends varying in age from
+five, suitable for Dorothy, to seventeen or eighteen, and a very
+merry party it promised to be. The day began gloriously, but father
+prophesied it was going to be too hot to be perfect; and he was
+right. About the middle of the afternoon thunder-clouds gathered
+quickly, and by tea-time there was a raging storm; but it was as
+short as it was sharp, and all over in an hour. There was no
+question as to going out again, the ground was too sopping wet
+after the rain to dream of such a thing, so it was proposed that we
+should have a good game of hide-and-seek all over the house. I wish
+I could tell you what a lovely place home is for hide-and-seek.
+There are so many rooms with doors between that you can almost go
+the round of the house on any landing without coming out into the
+passage more than twice or three times. Then there are several
+staircases, and lastly the turret, which was always used for
+'home,' because it was a regular trap for hiding in. Once found,
+you could never get away from there."
+
+"O mummie," breathed Eustace softly, "how it does make me want to
+go and see it all."
+
+"I am glad it does, sonny," Mrs. Orban said. "I want you to want to
+go--I always pray some day you will. It is a home to be proud of."
+
+"Go on, please," said Eustace in the little pause that followed.
+
+"I don't think people ever get tired of hide-and-seek," Mrs. Orban
+continued. "It is the one game that seems to suit all ages--I mean
+among young people. We played on and on till dusk, and then the
+game was only stopped by people coming for or sending to fetch
+their children home. Just in the middle of the first 'good-byes,'
+mother, who had been entertaining grown-ups most of the afternoon,
+came and asked for Dorothy. No one knew where she was. 'Who had
+seen her last?' It was impossible to find out, but apparently she
+had not been seen by any one for a long time. Dorothy at five years
+old was a very independent little person, and resented being
+obviously looked after. She always liked to hide by herself, for
+instance. Well, then, there began a game of hide-and-seek in real
+earnest, and it became more and more serious every minute, when
+white-faced groups met in the hall declaring that every corner had
+been searched, and still there was no trace of Dorothy."
+
+"Didn't grannie nearly go mad?" asked Eustace feelingly. He well
+knew what the loss of Becky would mean to his mother.
+
+"Very nearly," was the answer; "but I think your grandfather was
+even worse. All the tiny children were taken home, but many of the
+elder boys and girls begged to be allowed to stay and help, and now
+the hunt began outside with lanterns among outhouses and stables.
+The echoes rang with Dorothy's name, but in vain; the hunt was
+useless, and some of us straggled back into the house and began
+calling and looking all over the same ground again. I cannot tell
+you what terrible thoughts had got into our heads by that time. We
+remembered the story of the lady who hid herself in the old spring
+chest and could not get out--"
+
+"The Mistletoe Bough lady," breathed Eustace.
+
+"Yes; and we hunted every box, chest, and cupboard in the house,
+but Dorothy was in none of them. She seemed literally to have been
+spirited away. It became so late that at last all the other
+children were taken home, and we were left just ourselves--a very
+miserable family."
+
+Eustace sat up suddenly and held his breath, his face blanched, his
+eyes alert.
+
+"At last, close on midnight," Mrs. Orban went on in a low voice.
+
+"Mother, mother," Eustace said in a sharp whisper, kneeling and
+putting an arm protectingly round her, "did you hear something?"
+
+"Yes, darling," Mrs. Orban continued, "close on midnight--"
+
+"No, no," Eustace said, "not then--now--this minute, as you were
+speaking!"
+
+Mrs. Orban started perceptibly.
+
+"No, darling," she answered. "Why? Did you?"
+
+There was an instant's tense silence.
+
+"It is some one coming round the veranda--barefoot," Eustace
+whispered.
+
+"One of the maids, perhaps," said Mrs. Orban, but her voice
+quivered.
+
+"They would come through the house," said the boy. "This fellow has
+come up the veranda steps. I heard them creak."
+
+A lifetime in great solitude sharpens the hearing to the most
+extraordinary extent. Children born and brought up in the wilds
+often have this sense more keenly developed than any other. The
+Orban children seemed to hear without listening--sounds which, even
+when she was told of them, Mrs. Orban, with her English training,
+did not catch till several minutes later.
+
+But now the pad-pad-pad of bare feet was unmistakable--a
+pad-pad-pad, then a halt, as if the visitor stopped to listen.
+
+Below in the scrub--that wild thick undergrowth among trees,
+harbouring so many strange creatures--there were hoarse cries, and
+now and then the howl of a dingo, so horribly suggestive of a human
+being in an agony of pain.
+
+The pair on the veranda clung together for an instant--one only.
+
+"I must go to Becky," whispered Mrs. Orban, recovering herself.
+
+But Eustace held her down.
+
+"Oh, don't--don't for one moment," he implored; "wait and see what
+it is."
+
+"Pad-pad-pad" came the steps, nearer and nearer. A shadow fell
+aslant the corner of the veranda--the shadow of a man thrown by the
+light from the drawing-room side window.
+
+[Illustration: The shadow of a man fell aslant the corner of the
+veranda.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A NIGHT OF TERROR.
+
+
+"Mrs. Orban," called a voice softly--a familiar English-speaking
+voice; "Mrs. Orban, are you still up?"
+
+Mother and son fell apart, and Eustace sprang to his feet.
+
+"Why, it is Bob!" he exclaimed in bewilderment.
+
+"Bob!" cried his mother. "Impossible!"
+
+"Not a bit," said Bob Cochrane, coming round into the streak of
+lamplight, carrying his boots in his hands. "I just strolled over
+to see if you were all right. When I got to the steps it struck me
+I might startle you if I came thundering up, so I took my boots off
+and crept round to find out where you were. You were so quiet I
+thought you must have gone to bed and left the lights burning."
+
+"We were talking, nevertheless, when you arrived," Mrs. Orban said,
+"for I was telling Eustace a story."
+
+"I didn't hear you," Bob said. "Probably my heart was in my mouth,
+and beating so loud that it deafened me; for, of course, I knew I
+carried my life in my hand."
+
+"Your life in your hand?" repeated Eustace wonderingly.
+
+"Certainly. I felt sure you would bound on me with a revolver the
+moment you heard me, shoot me dead, and then demand an explanation.
+It is the sort of ardent thing one might expect from a knight of
+your order, Sir Eustace."
+
+Bob's chaff went deeper home than he meant it to. Eustace was in no
+mood for joking after the strain of the last few minutes. He hoped
+with all his heart that Mrs. Orban would not betray to Bob how
+terror-stricken he had just shown himself. Perhaps she understood,
+or it may be that she was half ashamed of her own unnecessary
+panic, for she only said,--
+
+"It is really very good of you to have come in the face of that
+grave peril, and at such an hour too."
+
+"Well, the fact is I wanted to," Bob said in his casual way, "and
+the mater insisted. I've left our old foreman sleeping in the house
+for to-night, and I thought I would just turn in with Eustace, if
+you don't mind."
+
+"We shall be simply delighted," Mrs. Orban said, with a feeling of
+real relief.
+
+"The mater wants me to take you all back to the Highlands early
+to-morrow," Bob went on; "you, Becky, and Eustace. She can't bear
+to think of your loneliness here. Do come and stay with us till Mr.
+Orban comes back."
+
+It was the kind of thought good, homely little Mrs. Cochrane was
+celebrated for. But Mrs. Orban shook her head.
+
+"It is just like your mother to think of such a thing," she said,
+"and just like her son to be her messenger so readily, but I can't
+do it, Bob. I couldn't possibly leave the maids and the house to
+take care of themselves. Mary and Kate would be terrified."
+
+"Oh, bother Mary and Kate!" said Bob.
+
+"I should be _most_ bothered if they took it into their heads to
+run away and leave us, especially now that my sister is coming. No,
+really, I cannot leave home, much as I should enjoy it. Your
+mother, as an experienced housekeeper, will feel for me in that."
+
+"We forgot the maids and the house," said Bob in a disappointed
+tone.
+
+"It can't be helped," said Mrs. Orban lightly; "and, indeed, we are
+quite all right. There is nothing to be afraid of, and I have
+Eustace.--Which reminds me, old man, hadn't you better be off to
+bed? This is considerably later than I meant you to be."
+
+"Oh but, mother," Eustace exclaimed, "what about Aunt Dorothy? I
+couldn't sleep without the rest of that story."
+
+"Oh yes, do let's have the rest of the story first," pleaded Bob.
+
+"There isn't much left now," said Mrs. Orban. "I was only telling
+him how we once lost Dorothy in a game of hide-and-seek when she
+was five years old. We had been hunting the house for hours; a sort
+of awful silence had fallen among us, as if we were expecting I
+don't know what--"
+
+"When close upon midnight," quoted Eustace in a mysterious voice.
+
+"There arose the cry of a terror-stricken child--shriek upon
+shriek--feeble because of the distance it was from the great hall,
+where we were all mustered in shivering silence, but distinct
+enough to be recognized as Dorothy's voice. I shall never forget
+it--it makes me shudder now--for the panic in that child's cry was
+appalling. What was being done to her? What awful pain was she in
+that she should shriek in such a way? Such were our thoughts as we
+hurried in a tumbling mass after father and mother. We reached the
+turret stairs, and father commanded every one with lanterns to go
+first and light the way. Right to the very top we went, into the
+little round room we called the Watchman's Nest, and here the
+sounds were loudest; but they were still muffled, and there was not
+a sign of Dorothy anywhere."
+
+"Was there any furniture for her to hide in?" asked Eustace,
+looking puzzled.
+
+"One table, one chair," said Mrs. Orban, "and a small black oak
+cupboard against the inner wall--it would have just about held
+Dorothy on the lower shelf. We opened it, flashed in our lanterns,
+but it was black and empty. One peculiar feature there was about
+it--when the cupboard door was open we heard the child more
+clearly. It seemed a stupid, senseless thing to do, but down I went
+on my hands and knees to feel those empty shelves, as if I imagined
+Dorothy might be there in spite of our seeing nothing--invisible
+but tangible. Of course there was nothing but wood to touch; but
+with my head inside there, I could hear Dorothy so well I might
+have been in the same room with her."
+
+"How queer!" Eustace broke out excitedly.
+
+"'Dorothy, Dorothy,' I shouted. 'Mother--I want mother, mother,
+mother,' she shrieked. 'Where are you? Tell us where you are,' I
+called. 'I want mother, mother, mother,' was the only answer.
+'Mother is here,' I said; and again, 'Tell us where you are.'
+Something made me feel the cupboard again, and this time I did not
+only touch the shelves, but put my hand right back. 'Quick, quick!
+a lantern,' I simply screamed, and half a dozen were lowered
+instantly. There was no back to the cupboard on the lower shelf.
+The blackness we had mistaken for the old oak was just
+nothingness--a deep, deep hollow into the wall."
+
+"Mother," Eustace cried, "a secret chamber!"
+
+"A secret chamber that no one had ever suspected; and Dorothy it
+was who had found it."
+
+"But how?" The question came from Bob Cochrane.
+
+"She was the most daring child I have ever known," said Mrs. Orban.
+"I don't think Dorothy knew what fear meant in those days. She knew
+that scarcely any one ever searched the turret, because it was
+difficult to get away from, and it entered her small head to creep
+up to the Watchman's Nest and into this cupboard. Whether she went
+to sleep waiting for us to find her, or whether she rolled over at
+once and fell down the little flight of steps into the secret
+chamber, to lie there stunned, no one knows. Dorothy could not
+explain herself. Anyhow, there she was, and the moment she came to
+her senses and found herself in the dark she began to scream with
+fright."
+
+"But how was it no one had ever discovered the secret chamber
+before?" demanded Eustace. "It seems funny."
+
+"You would not think so if you saw the cupboard," Mrs. Orban said.
+"It is a little, insignificant-looking thing--low and rather deep,
+and, as we then found, built into the wall. The back of the lower
+shelf was a sliding panel; and your grandfather's theory is that
+the last person who used the secret chamber left the panel open.
+Without nearly standing on one's head it was impossible to see the
+back of the lower shelf, and no one had ever suspected such a
+thing."
+
+"O Bob, Bob, wouldn't you just like to see Maze Court?" cried
+Eustace. "I shall never be happy till I do."
+
+"I tell you you will all be off on Miss Dorothy's broomstick one of
+these fine days," growled Bob. "She is a witch, and she has already
+bewitched you, for you can talk of nothing but England now."
+
+"You had better go to bed, Eustace," Mrs. Orban said with a laugh.
+"Bob is getting quite fierce."
+
+Bob left very early next day to get back to work. As Nesta and
+Peter were having holidays, Eustace, of course, did no lessons, but
+spent the day very contentedly helping his mother. She was busy
+rearranging furniture in the room that was to be Miss Chase's, and
+they scarcely sat down the whole day till evening.
+
+"Early to bed this night, my son," said Mrs. Orban as they left the
+dinner-table. "I expect you will sleep like a top."
+
+He was looking sleepy already, and a quarter of an hour later went
+very readily to his room, with a parting entreaty to his mother
+that she would not sit up late.
+
+"Not I," was the laughing rejoinder. "I promise you I will only
+write one little line to father and begin my mail letter to
+grannie, and then I will go to bed."
+
+This Mrs. Orban did, and being very tired she fell asleep almost as
+soon as her head touched the pillow.
+
+For several hours a great silence reigned over the house; but even
+when it was broken by the soft pad-pad-pad of bare feet creeping
+stealthily round the veranda, the sleepers lay utterly unconscious.
+The stairs had not creaked under the weight of this figure; it cast
+no shadows, for there was no light either within the house or
+without. At every window it halted, listened, peered in, as if it
+had the eyes of a cat to see with in the dark.
+
+First came the dining-room, and next it the room in which Eustace
+and Peter slept. Round the corner were Mrs. Orban's room and part
+of the drawing-room. At the other corner was Nesta's room, where
+Miss Chase would also sleep, and next to that the servants' room.
+
+The strange visitor made a complete tour of the veranda and reached
+the stair again.
+
+Eustace was dreaming vividly. He was out with Nesta and Becky.
+Becky had been specially entrusted to their care, and they had been
+told only to go a little way into the scrub. As a rule the children
+were not allowed to go into the scrub without a grown-up in charge,
+for there were dangers among the thick bushy undergrowth known by
+this odd name. For one thing, snakes abounded there; for another,
+it was only too easy to lose one's bearings, wander farther and
+farther into the wood, and eventually die of thirst and
+starvation, utterly unable to find the way home again. To Eustace's
+distraction, in his dream Becky would insist on playing
+hide-and-seek, and kept constantly disappearing and returning,
+flitting on in front of them now and again like a will-o'-the-wisp.
+
+"We mustn't let her do it," Eustace exclaimed. "Run, Nesta; we must
+catch her."
+
+But the faster they ran, the farther Becky went; it was
+extraordinary how fast she could go.
+
+"I can't keep up," Nesta panted.
+
+"Just like a girl," puffed Eustace back, for he was getting
+exhausted himself.
+
+Then Becky disappeared right out of sight, and though Eustace
+called her till the echoes rang again and again with her name,
+there came no answer.
+
+"Now I guess we shall all be lost," thought Eustace desperately.
+
+He was rushing madly hither and thither, when suddenly he heard a
+blood-curdling yell not very far off. It was followed by another
+and another, till his heart stood still with terror.
+
+"Of course," he said, pulling himself together with all his might,
+"she must be in the secret chamber. I never thought of that."
+
+But even as the notion flashed into his mind he knew how silly it
+was to think of a secret chamber in the Bush. He was so paralyzed
+by the awfulness of the sounds that for a moment he could not move;
+but at last, with a mighty effort, he forced himself to dart
+forward in the direction whence the cries came.
+
+A second later he was fighting blindly with some thing that clung
+unpleasantly to him. It took him a moment to realize that this was
+the mosquito net round his bed. He was out on the floor in his own
+room at home. He had been dreaming, and was now awake; but the
+screams continued, and were most horribly real. It was not Becky's
+voice--no child could have cried like that.
+
+There was a door from his room into Mrs. Orban's, and through this
+the boy dashed.
+
+"Mother, mother," he cried, "what is happening?"
+
+There was a light in the room. Mrs. Orban was standing with a look
+of terror on her face.
+
+"I don't know," she said unsteadily.
+
+"It has been going on for ages," Eustace whispered.
+
+But Mrs. Orban shook her head. "It has only just begun," she said.
+"I must go and see what is the matter."
+
+Eustace was haunted by his dream--a second in a dream is equivalent
+to hours of real life.
+
+"O mother, don't go!" he exclaimed in an agonized voice, and clung
+to her.
+
+"I must," was the answer, and gently but firmly Mrs. Orban put the
+boy from her. "Perhaps one of the servants is ill. At least they
+are both frightened, and need me. Stay here with Becky."
+
+The words were hardly out of her mouth when the door burst open,
+and in rushed Mary, followed by Kate. Both girls looked half mad
+with fear.
+
+"O ma'am, ma'am," they cried, piecing out the tale between them,
+"there was a black-fellow in our room. He has stolen our watches
+from under our pillows, and everything he could find before we
+woke, and he was pulling the rings off Mary's finger when she felt
+him and jumped out of bed. But he got the rings, and we don't know
+where he is--somewhere about the house--and maybe there are others
+with him. O ma'am, whatever shall we do? We shall all be murdered
+in our beds."
+
+"Nonsense, you silly girls," said Mrs. Orban, with sudden
+sternness; "we can't possibly be murdered in our beds when we are
+all out of them."
+
+Even in the stress of the moment Eustace could not help being
+struck by the humour of the assertion, but he was in no mood for
+laughing.
+
+Creeping to the window, he peered out, to find that it was no
+longer pitch dark; there was a sufficient glimmer of light to have
+enabled their uninvited guest to do all that the servants
+described.
+
+By this time Becky was awake and howling. Her mother took her into
+her arms and soothed her gently.
+
+"As to what we shall do," Mrs. Orban said in that same firm tone;
+"we must all stay here till daylight together. If there are thieves
+about the house, we can do nothing to check them. They will not
+hurt us if we don't interfere. There is nothing to be done but to
+behave as little like cowards as we can manage."
+
+"But black-fellows do such--" began Kate.
+
+"Hold your tongue, Kate," said the usually gentle Mrs. Orban, with
+sudden anger. "What good can it do to scare yourself and us by
+talking in such a way? We are in God's hands, don't forget that."
+
+"Mother," Eustace said, "has father got his revolver away with
+him?"
+
+"There are two in this room," Mrs. Orban replied. "Could you use
+one if necessary?"
+
+"Oh, for mercy's sake don't let Master Eustace have a gun in his
+hands!" said Mary. "There's no saying which of us he might shoot in
+mistake if he began playing with one."
+
+"Playing with one!" repeated Eustace scornfully; "why, father says
+my shooting is very good for my age."
+
+Mrs. Orban took a revolver from a cupboard and gave it into the
+boy's hands.
+
+"It is loaded," she said, and now there was the suspicion of a
+quiver in her voice; "but realize I am trusting you to be sensible.
+Don't shoot at random. Remember what Bob said last night. You are
+only to fire if terribly necessary. Now jump into Becky's bed, or
+you will be getting a chill and fever."
+
+From beneath her own pillow she drew out a second revolver,
+examined it, and set it on a table within easy reach.
+
+"Mother," said Eustace in surprise, "do you always sleep with a
+revolver under your pillow?"
+
+"Only when your father is away," was the reply. "Now, Mary and
+Kate, get into my bed. I am going to sit in this cosy chair with
+Miss Becky. We will talk and keep the light burning; but it is my
+belief nothing more will happen to-night."
+
+The maids obeyed, still looking terrified, and then Mrs. Orban
+seated herself, with Becky in her arms, near the table where the
+revolver lay.
+
+Thus they prepared to face the remaining hour of darkness,
+powerless to do anything, utterly helpless, with nerves strung to
+the highest possible pitch, and hearts that beat wildly at every
+sound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE FIRST SHOT.
+
+
+Mrs. Orban's words were brave, her whole bearing courageous, but
+she was more frightened than she had ever been in her life before.
+It is doubtful whether she really believed her own assertion that
+nothing more would happen that night, though she tried to. As a
+matter of fact her prophecy was correct. Scared by the screams of
+the women, the unpleasant guest must have promptly run away. He was
+probably alone, and, uncertain as to who was in the house, had fled
+from the chance of being peppered by a revolver.
+
+It was found in the morning that nothing was missing except the
+servants' watches, their few small trinkets that were lying on the
+dressing-table, and Mary's rings. The extraordinary silence with
+which he had perpetrated the theft, his skill in taking the rings
+off Mary's hand as it lay outside the coverlet, were not at all
+unprecedented--the natives were known to be silent and subtle as
+snakes in their doings.
+
+Mrs. Orban sent Eustace down to the plantation as soon as she knew
+every one would be astir. Mr. Ashton, the field manager, was
+suffering from fever, so that it was useless to go to him; but on
+hearing the story, Robertson, the chief engineer, returned with the
+boy to look into the matter.
+
+Investigations were in vain; the man had left no tracks around the
+house, no footprints on the veranda.
+
+The servants were so terrified that they declared they would not
+stay another night in the house. They wanted to be sent to Cooktown
+immediately--a five days' journey by sea. Robertson, a big burly
+Scotsman, roughly told them that such a thing was impossible. They
+could not get away for another week, when the schooner might be
+expected to bring provisions. He lectured them on their cowardice
+in wanting to run away and leave their mistress alone at such a
+time, but the girls would not listen to reason; they said they
+would hire horses and ride all the way to the first civilized place
+they could find.
+
+Then Mrs. Orban tried persuasion. Had they not better wait at least
+to see whether anything could be heard of their lost possessions?
+She would offer a reward to any one finding the thief or restoring
+the stolen goods to their owners--the offer should be made known
+all over the plantation.
+
+The suggestion carried the day, and the bargain was made. Mrs.
+Orban felt that at all costs she must keep the maids until Mr.
+Orban's return, for the work and the solitude would have been too
+much for her to stand, brave as she had proved herself to be.
+
+The offering of a reward was greatly against Robertson's advice. He
+pointed out that it would only prove an incentive to further
+robbery. The plantation hands were an unprincipled lot, and if
+they discovered that they could get money by stealing things and
+bringing them back, as if they had discovered them in the
+possession of some one else, there would be no end to the thefts,
+and no tangible means of getting hold of the thieves unless they
+were caught red-handed.
+
+But so anxious was Mrs. Orban to keep the servants that she
+disregarded Robertson's opinion, and the reward was duly offered.
+The engineer had one proposal to make, which was accepted. With
+Mrs. Orban's leave, he said, he, with his wife and two little
+children, would come up the hill and sleep in the house until Mr.
+Orban's return. There would be safety in numbers; and if the night
+visitor came again, some one to deal with him better than by
+screaming at him.
+
+In spite of the fuller house, and the fact that Robertson's
+eight-year-old boy was sleeping in Peter's bed that night, Eustace
+did not feel particularly happy in the hours of darkness before
+him, after the party had broken up and said good-night.
+
+The door between his mother's room and his own was left open, by
+way of companionship for them both, but the boy was so overtired as
+to be restless and unable to go to sleep. To his excited fancy
+there were unusual sounds about. The creaking of unwarping boards,
+the soughing of the night breeze round the house, even Sandy
+Robertson turning round in his bed, with an impatient but sleepy
+flump at the heat, were noises that set his hair on end and made
+him feel cold and damp all over again and again. Once or twice he
+stole from his bed to peer into his mother's room, but she always
+seemed asleep; or he would look stealthily out of the window, as if
+he could possibly have seen anything in the dark.
+
+Robertson, with his wife and baby, was in Nesta's room at the other
+side of the house. It occurred to Eustace that if anything did
+happen--anything needing immediate action--Robertson was very far
+away and ungetatable. The boy sat up in bed hugging his knees,
+making feverish plans as to what he should do supposing the night
+visitor came again and he should see him.
+
+Unknown to his mother, Eustace had taken the revolver he had been
+entrusted with the night before to bed with him. He meant to sleep
+with it under his pillow, but every time he got up to make his
+investigations he took it, gripped tightly in his hand ready for
+immediate use.
+
+When the first gray light stole into the room at last, Eustace
+began to feel drowsy. Almost against his will he lay back on his
+pillow and fell asleep. He had determined to watch the night
+through, but a great heaviness overpowered him, and he lay like a
+log.
+
+It seemed to him he had hardly closed his eyes--indeed, it cannot
+have been much later, for there was but little difference in the
+light--when a resounding pistol report rang through the silent
+house. Eustace awoke with an instant consciousness of having slept
+on his self-imposed sentry work. He felt queer and oddly shaken as,
+with a cry of dismay, he sprang out of bed and rushed into his
+mother's room.
+
+"Oh, what is it?" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, frightened out of her wits
+by the noise.
+
+She stared at Eustace, who stood, revolver in hand, gazing blankly
+round the room.
+
+"I don't know," he began, stopped abruptly, and added in a choked
+voice, "Oh, look! look!"
+
+He was staring towards the window. Outside on the veranda,
+crouching on all fours in the dusk, was a dark figure. With a
+strange, sudden movement it raised itself and stretched out an arm
+towards the room--standing lank, tall, and horribly sinister.
+
+Without a moment's hesitation Eustace raised his hand and fired.
+There was a splintering of glass, a wild howl of pain, and the
+figure dropped like a stone.
+
+"Eustace," cried Mrs. Orban in a horrified voice, "what have you
+done?"
+
+"I had to fire first," returned the boy in an odd, sullen tone.
+
+The figure outside moved, and with a succession of dreadful yells
+began rapidly crawling along the veranda towards the stairs.
+
+At the bedroom door appeared the entire household, Robertson
+leading the way, his usually ruddy face ghastly with astonishment.
+
+"What on earth is happening?" he asked, staring at Eustace and his
+mother.
+
+"I've shot something," Eustace faltered. "It is going down the
+steps--"
+
+Robertson waited to hear no more. Seizing the boy's revolver, he
+took a short cut through the house for the veranda steps.
+
+"What was it?" asked the frightened women, as they huddled together
+in the doorway.
+
+"I don't know," Eustace answered--"a black-fellow of some sort. I
+wonder if I--I killed him."
+
+There had fallen a sudden silence outside; the awful howling had
+ceased.
+
+Eustace sat down on the edge of his mother's bed feeling sick and
+shivery. To have killed a man--a white fellow, black-fellow, any
+sort of fellow; it was horrible!
+
+The most extraordinary sounds arose from the veranda. Had Robertson
+gone mad, or what could be the matter with him?
+
+"Ho-ho-ho! ha-ha-ha! ho-ho-ho-ho!" he roared.
+
+Every one stood as if paralyzed. There was something terribly
+uncanny about the laughter. It seemed so ill-timed, so jarring and
+unkind.
+
+Robertson appeared at the broken window.
+
+"Upon my word, Eustace," exclaimed the Scotsman, "it's the best
+joke ever I heard or saw. Come and look at your black-fellow and be
+proud of yourself."
+
+"I can't!" said Eustace, his knees knocking together as he
+attempted to stand, and he fell back on the bed.
+
+"Oh, what is it, Mr. Robertson?" asked Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Why, it's nothing but a miserable, half-starved dingo-dog that
+must have prowled up to the house in search of food," Robertson
+said. "You marked him well--I will say that for you, Eustace. He
+was dead before I could reach the steps."
+
+"Thank God it was not a human being," exclaimed Mrs. Orban.
+
+"A dingo!" cried Eustace, sitting up suddenly with a perplexed
+expression in his eyes. "Then who fired the first shot? I mean the
+one that woke me."
+
+The relief faded from Mrs. Orban's face. It was a startling
+question, an uncomfortable reflection that the first shot had not
+been accounted for.
+
+"Yes, by the way," she said, "there was that other shot. It seemed
+to come from Eustace's room, and I was frightened out of my wits. I
+was thankful to see him safe and sound a minute later."
+
+"I heard two shots distinctly," Robertson said, looking grave; "but
+of course I fancied Eustace had fired twice at the dingo."
+
+"Not I," said Eustace. "I never saw the beast till I came into
+mother's room; and I didn't fire till it stood up against the
+window and looked like a human being."
+
+"H'm," said Robertson. "It strikes me I had better have a look
+round. Just stay here till I come back."
+
+The women all looked scared. It was not a pleasant idea that the
+person who fired that first shot was possibly lurking about
+somewhere in the shadows. They listened breathlessly as Robertson
+made the tour of the house, momentarily expecting a fresh
+commotion, the firing of shots and a struggle. Mrs. Robertson was
+dreadfully upset, and held her two children close; the maids
+huddled together in a corner. Mrs. Orban stood, revolver in hand,
+near Becky's bed with such quiet dignity that somehow Eustace was
+steadied.
+
+The chances were that, finding himself hunted by Robertson, the man
+would try to effect an escape on to the veranda this way as a short
+cut to the steps.
+
+If the visitor were the same as that of the night before, it was
+all important he should be captured--otherwise this disagreeable
+night raid might be repeated.
+
+But no shots and no sound of a scuffle were heard. Robertson
+returned to say that he had investigated every nook and cranny that
+a man might have hidden in, and found no trace of any one having
+entered the house anywhere.
+
+The little gathering stared about with questioning, bewildered
+eyes, and no one felt any happier for the news. The fact remained
+that a shot had been fired by a mysterious being who had apparently
+vanished into air. For what purpose had that shot been fired? At
+what? At whom?
+
+"I can't make it out," said Robertson. "There seems no sense in a
+fellow coming and letting off fireworks in the middle of the night
+for nothing."
+
+"Perhaps it is a trick of some sort," suggested Mrs. Orban; "some
+one trying to frighten us. But I don't see that that is possible."
+
+"Nor I," said Robertson. "People aren't in the habit of playing
+practical jokes without some purpose in them hereabouts. All the
+same, it doesn't seem much good all of you staying up like this. If
+you'll just get back to your beds, I'll watch for the rest of the
+night. It may be a better way of trapping a chap, if he hasn't got
+clean away by now. That is the most likely thing, of course--his
+firearm probably went off inadvertently as he was coming round the
+veranda, and he knew he had done for himself, so made tracks at
+once. He might come back as soon as he thought the house was quiet
+again, but I don't expect him."
+
+No one felt much inclined to take Robertson's practical advice. At
+the same time it seemed foolish to stay up and exhaust themselves
+for nothing, and Mrs. Orban agreed that every one should go to bed.
+
+Eustace went very reluctantly. He would have liked to stay up and
+share Robertson's watch like a man; it seemed so childish to be
+sent to bed after taking part in such an excitement. He wondered
+what Nesta would have thought of it had she been there.
+
+"Goodness, wouldn't she have been scared!" he reflected. "I do
+wonder what she would have done."
+
+At least there would be plenty to tell her when she came home. She
+might be having a jolly time; but Eustace guessed, when it was all
+over, she would be disappointed at having been out of such
+adventures as these. There was a sort of glow about the realization
+that they were such very real adventures--experiences that did not
+come every day and to every one. The only stupid part about it was
+having to go to bed.
+
+Mrs. Orban felt no glow in her realization of the situation. She
+longed for her husband, and wondered how she was going to bear his
+absence much longer. If this sort of thing were to go on she felt
+that it would break her nerve entirely.
+
+Having kissed Eustace and sent him away, she felt too restless to
+get into bed. Sleep she knew would be impossible; and taking a
+book, she was just sitting down with the set purpose of making
+herself read awhile, in order to quiet her mind, when a sharp cry
+reached her from the next room.
+
+"Mother! mother!" Eustace cried, "come here--quick!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+BOB'S VERDICT.
+
+
+She found Eustace standing beside his bed staring at it in utter
+bewilderment.
+
+"My dearest boy, what is it?" she asked.
+
+"Why, look at that!" Eustace exclaimed, pointing down at the
+coverlet.
+
+From about the centre of the bed on the right side, down almost to
+the foot, was a long brown streak like a burn: the coverlet was cut
+and charred.
+
+Mrs. Orban stared at it in astonishment
+
+"What can it be?" she said.
+
+"I can't think," Eustace replied.
+
+"You had better fetch Robertson," Mrs. Orban said. "There is
+something very odd about this."
+
+"Don't you mind being left alone, mother?" Eustace asked, looking
+round anxiously, as if he thought an explanation of the mystery
+might jump from under a bed or out of a cupboard.
+
+"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Orban replied gravely.
+
+It amused her even in her anxiety that this slender scrap of
+fourteen should assume such an air of protection, but it touched
+her also, and she would not for worlds have let him fancy she could
+smile at him.
+
+Robertson hurried to the spot immediately, and when he saw the
+condition of the coverlet he looked utterly nonplussed.
+
+"Well, this is a queer state of things," he said, rubbing his head
+meditatively. "I never saw anything to equal it."
+
+Further examination proved that not only was the coverlet burnt
+right through, but the under clothes were scorched and crumbled
+like tinder at a touch.
+
+"It looks like the track of a shot," Robertson said; "but how could
+it come there?"
+
+"I don't know," Eustace said, "unless some one was kneeling on the
+floor at the foot of the bed and tried to shoot me without raising
+his hand. The shot sounded most awfully close."
+
+Robertson took a quick survey of the situation, ending with an
+examination of the wall at the head of the bed.
+
+"No," he said, "that couldn't be. The bullet would have gone into
+the pillow or lodged in the wall, but there isn't a sign of it.
+Seems to me it went the other way by the mark. It is broadest in
+the middle of the bed."
+
+He followed the line with his eye, then glanced across the room.
+
+"Why," he exclaimed, going over to the opposite wall, "here is the
+mark of the bullet--here is the bullet itself, deep in the wood.
+That shot went off from the middle of your bed, lad."
+
+Eustace looked incredulous, Mrs. Orban horrified. It was awful to
+think that the boy had been in such danger. The man who had fired
+that first alarming shot was close to him, perhaps bending over
+him, when inadvertently the weapon had gone off! The mother could
+picture it only too vividly, and she felt sick at the thought of
+the ghastly peril.
+
+"But what happened to the man?" questioned Eustace. "I was awake in
+a minute, and must have seen him."
+
+"Not if he ducked under the bed," suggested Mrs. Orban. "He must
+have been there when you came to me, and made his escape the
+instant you were out of the way."
+
+"Much more likely if he had knocked the youngster on the head to
+silence him," argued Robertson, as he stood toying with Mr. Orban's
+revolver. "I don't think that story will wash."
+
+Quite suddenly the man threw back his head and laughed aloud.
+
+"I have it," he said. "Eustace, you young rascal, what a scare you
+have given us!"
+
+"I!" exclaimed Eustace, with a touch of indignation in his tone.
+
+"Yes, you," was the reply. "Why, you fired that first shot
+yourself; I'll bet you anything you did. You only shot once at the
+dingo--there are two chambers empty in this revolver. Come, own up;
+where was the revolver when you went to sleep?"
+
+Eustace flushed crimson as the realization flooded his mind.
+
+"It was in my hand when I jumped out of bed," he said. "I--I do
+believe I went to sleep holding it. I dropped off suddenly."
+
+He remembered how inexplicably queer and shaken he had felt when he
+awoke. Now he came to think of it, he had been strangely jarred. A
+mere sound could scarcely have accounted for the feeling.
+
+"Well, that clears the whole mystery, then," said Robertson. "There
+is no one lurking about the house, and there hasn't been anything
+to be frightened about--except that you might have shot your own
+foot through, and lamed yourself for life."
+
+"He might have killed himself," said Mrs. Orban seriously. "It was
+a terribly dangerous thing to do."
+
+She said nothing more, for it was evident Eustace felt very small
+and uncomfortable. It was the tamest possible ending to what had
+promised to be such a stirring adventure--such a tale to tell!
+
+Presently, when he was left alone to try and get a little sleep
+before it was time to get up and dress, the full humiliation of it
+overcame him. What would his father say? and Nesta? and, worse and
+worse, Bob Cochrane? How he would be laughed at--teased! He would
+never be allowed to forget the dingo he had mistaken for a
+black-fellow; and he felt hot all over when he thought of that
+foolish shot--the cause of all the commotion.
+
+It was a very depressed Eustace who appeared at breakfast. He took
+Robertson's unabated amusement so gravely that the engineer stopped
+laughing at him, and wondered if the youngster were sulking.
+
+Mrs. Orban felt a good deal distressed to see how pale the boy was,
+and that he could hardly touch the food set before him. But every
+one showed signs of exhaustion, as was natural after two nights of
+such unusual strain. Mrs. Orban kept Eustace with her all day,
+setting him small jobs to keep him occupied. They all went to bed
+early that night, and the household slept without rocking.
+
+Next day, in the cool of the morning, Bob Cochrane rode over to
+inquire how the Orbans were getting on. Eustace heard him come--the
+boy was on the lookout for this particular visit--and as Bob walked
+round one side of the veranda, Eustace disappeared along the other,
+left a message with Mary that he was going down to the mill, and
+started away from the house at a run. The truth was, he felt he
+simply could not be present while Bob listened to the story of his
+absurd adventures; he wanted the narration to be over before he
+faced the fusillade of chaff with which the young fellow might
+pepper him. "He'll think me a silly little fool, I know he will,"
+Eustace told himself again and again; "and he'll say, 'What did I
+tell you about shooting recklessly?' I expect he'll think I'm a
+baby, not fit to be trusted with firearms. It's disgusting, just
+when I was hoping he might begin to think me worth taking out
+shooting with him soon."
+
+Thoroughly out of conceit with himself, Eustace wished he need not
+go home at all until Bob was certain to be gone. But no sooner did
+he reach the mill and begin wandering about the rooms full of
+machinery than it struck him it had been rather cowardly even to
+run away for a time. Bob would know he had not felt equal to facing
+him, and perhaps he would despise that as much as he was bound to
+be amused at the other. The lad had a sharp tussle with himself,
+and at last started back up the hill with the feelings of a most
+unwilling martyr going to the stake.
+
+He was about two-thirds of the way up when he caught sight of Bob
+Cochrane coming swinging down towards him. Bob was just the kind of
+fellow every boy wants to grow into--big, well-made, splendidly
+manly; he looked jolly in his riding-suit.
+
+"Hulloa!" he called as soon as he came within speaking distance.
+
+"Hulloa!" Eustace called back tonelessly, his heart thumping hard,
+his colour coming and going ridiculously.
+
+Bob waited till they met. Then, "Well, youngster," he said gravely,
+putting a big hand on the lad's shoulder and walking on beside him,
+"you've had a rough time since I saw you last. I don't wonder you
+shot at that dingo in the way you did; I should have done it
+myself, I believe, under the circumstances."
+
+Eustace's heart almost stopped beating, he was so surprised; he
+could not speak a word.
+
+"Of course that chap coming the night before put you all on edge,"
+proceeded Bob, "and you were flurried by the first shot. That might
+have been a nasty business too. Glad you didn't hurt yourself."
+
+There was another pause, but Bob did not seem to mind. He went on
+again presently,--
+
+"It is just this kind of thing, I always think, that gives one a
+bit of a useful warning: first, to be cautious; and second, to keep
+a cool head. You'll never go to sleep with a revolver ready cocked
+again, and another time you will give yourself a second's
+deliberation before you fire at anything looking like a man. It
+might have been Robertson making a tour of the house, you know."
+
+Eustace felt suddenly rather sick.
+
+"I never thought of that," he said.
+
+"Of course not," was the cheery response. "One doesn't look all
+round a question in a hurry, but one has to learn to remember there
+may be two sides to it. You'll get the hang of the idea one of
+these days. I know it was a long time before I gave up wanting to
+shoot down everything I didn't quite like the looks of. Sometimes
+it turns out well, sometimes pretty badly."
+
+He ended with a little laugh. Eustace, looking up into the merry,
+kindly face, knew that the awful time he had so dreaded was over,
+and it had not been an "awful time" after all. Bob did not think
+him a fool; he might have done the same himself, he said. He only
+warned him to be more careful another time, and gave him the
+reasons why he should.
+
+The boy had always admired this friend of the family; he positively
+glowed with pride at this minute that Bob was a friend of his own.
+Whatever might happen now, whoever might snub or laugh at him,
+Eustace had this comforting knowledge always at heart--Bob
+understood, and Bob was a man no one would laugh at.
+
+"He is a brick," thought the lad warmly. "I wish there was
+anything, anything in the world I could do to show him what a brick
+I think him. If ever there is, won't I just do it! The more
+dangerous it is the better."
+
+"I remember once having a pretty gruesome experience," said Bob,
+chatting on easily. "I expect you've never heard about it, because
+you were nothing but a kiddy at the time, and it has been
+forgotten lately. I was going home across our plantation with two
+other fellows late at night--much later than the mater liked us to
+be out. In order to be as quick as possible, when we got to the
+little line running to the mill we hoisted the trolley on to the
+rails and began pushing ourselves along at a great rate. It was the
+sort of darkness one can peer through, making things look weird and
+distorted, often much bigger than they really are."
+
+"Like the dingo."
+
+"Like the dingo. Well, we were getting along finely, when we got to
+rather a steep gradient and had to go slower up it. Near the top
+one of us suddenly caught sight of something unusual to the left of
+the line. It looked like a huge cowering figure, wide but not tall.
+Whether four-legged or two-legged it was impossible to say because
+of the gloom. It wasn't a nice feeling to have this thing silently
+waiting for one. We all boo'd and shoo'd first, thinking that if it
+were a beast of any sort it would scoot at the noise; but it didn't
+stir an inch or make a sound. We felt pretty creepy by then, for
+black-fellow tales were even commoner in those days than they are
+now. From the size of it we guessed it might have been a group of
+three men. Then we shouted, 'Hands up and declare yourself, or we
+fire!' But still the creature didn't move or speak."
+
+"My hat!" exclaimed Eustace sympathetically.
+
+"We had got to get past it somehow to reach home, for it wasn't
+likely we could stay there all night. We gave it two more chances,
+and then we fired for all we were worth. There were instantly
+shrieks, groans, and such horrible sounds that we waited for
+nothing more, but pushing our stakes into the ground, sent the
+trolley flying past the awful spot and down the next hill. How we
+didn't turn over and get killed down that incline I don't know--it
+was the one nearest home, you know, where one has to be so
+fearfully careful about putting on a brake as a rule. However, we
+got in all right, and gave a detailed account of our adventure.
+Every one was interested and puzzled. Father was a little inclined
+to laugh; he said it was probably the stump of a tree, but of
+course we had evidence against that in the genuine shrieks and
+groans following our shots. 'Well, we must just go first thing
+to-morrow,' father said, 'and look into the matter by daylight.'"
+
+"And did you?" asked Eustace eagerly.
+
+"Rather! I should just think we did--father, a friend of his who
+was staying with us, and the two boys I had been out with. We rode,
+and when we got to the spot the first thing we saw was the huge
+stump of a newly-felled tree, right in the very place we had seen
+the gruesome object."
+
+Eustace whistled.
+
+"But a tree couldn't shriek and groan," he objected.
+
+"So _we_ said when father began minutely examining the bark; and to
+our satisfaction there wasn't a single shot mark in the tree,
+though we must have fired half a dozen between us. 'We can't have
+seen this,' I said, feeling rather cock-a-hoopy; 'it must have been
+something nearer.' We were just all puzzling our heads over the
+matter when a Chinkee came running towards us from a group of huts
+not very far off. He was gesticulating and making a fearful fuss.
+We followed him in a fine state of excitement, and he led us to a
+little low shed with a railing before it. We looked in, and there
+lay two dead pigs!"
+
+"Two dead pigs!" cried Eustace.
+
+"Yes. It was pretty humiliating, for it just proved we had aimed at
+the tree and missed it. Instead, we shot the Chinkee's inoffensive
+pigs. It was many a long day before that joke was forgotten against
+us. Moreover, amongst us we had to scrape a pound together to pay
+the Chinaman for his loss. I never felt so small in my life."
+
+Eustace could well appreciate the sensation after his own
+experiences.
+
+Bob took a very light view of the real visit the Orbans had had
+from the black-fellow two nights before.
+
+"He wouldn't have hurt any one," said the young fellow. "He was
+nothing but a cowardly thief, or he wouldn't have behaved in the
+way he did. I'm only sorry you've offered a reward for the things;
+it will be an incentive to other fellows to do the same. However, I
+dare say, with Robertson sleeping up here, no one will venture
+again. I shouldn't worry if I were you, Mrs. Orban."
+
+"I will try not to," Mrs. Orban answered bravely.
+
+They had a quiet enough night again to warrant confidence, and
+every one felt rested and refreshed next day.
+
+Just after breakfast Kate appeared to tell her mistress that a
+Chinaman from the plantation wished to speak to her. His name was
+Sinkum Fung, and he was the plantation storekeeper, a man who
+thought a good deal of himself, but for lying and trickery, Mr.
+Orban declared, was no better than his neighbours the coolies who
+dealt at his shop.
+
+As soon as Sinkum Fung was shown on to the veranda, he did a good
+deal of bowing and scraping by way of politeness, and he had so
+much to say on the subject of his own unimpeachable integrity that
+it was a long time before Mrs. Orban could bring him to an
+explanation of his early visit. Both she and Eustace guessed he
+must be wanting to sell something, and probably hoped to drive a
+good bargain in Mr. Orban's absence, the cunning of the average
+Chinese being unsurpassed.
+
+After a considerable preamble, Sinkum began the following
+remarkable tale, all told in such strange Chinkee patter, and with
+so much self-praise interspersed, that it took the listeners' whole
+attention to unravel it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+PETER'S NIGHTMARE.
+
+
+Some nights before Sinkum Fung was sitting in his store waiting for
+customers. His best trade was always in the evening, when the
+coolies' work was over, and they had time to do some shopping. But
+it was getting late, and Sinkum thought it about time to close the
+store and go to bed. Suddenly there fell a shadow across the
+threshold, and a big black-fellow entered--a stranger whom Sinkum
+Fung had never seen before. What had he come to buy? Sinkum asked
+politely. But the black-fellow had come to buy nothing--he had a
+fierce, wild face, and his voice made Sinkum tremble when he said
+he had not come to buy, but to sell. He declared his name to be
+Jaga-Jaga of the great "Rat clan" now living in the Bush not far
+away. He had found, he said, a white man hanging in a tree, caught
+and held fast by the dreadful "wait-a-bit" cane that will swing
+round man or beast at a touch, and hold them fast till they die of
+exposure and starvation. This man was dead, and on his body,
+Jaga-Jaga said, he discovered sundry things which he now brought to
+the store to sell. What would Sinkum Fung give for them? The
+payment must be made in food, for the tribe were nearly starving.
+Food was difficult to procure in the intense heat; the ground was
+arid and unproductive.
+
+Sinkum examined the goods; he made his offer; whereat the wild man
+swung his boomerang disagreeably, and indicated that he must have
+"more, more." Tears of self-pity flooded Sinkum's eyes. He had no
+choice but to obey, and at last the black-fellow left with a sack
+containing ten times the value of the goods the storeman had been
+forced to buy. He had been cheated, cruelly used; he was a poor
+man, and could not stand such losses. The things were of no
+value--none; but if he had not bought them he would have been a
+dead man.
+
+Sinkum's hands were no longer in his sleeves--he had made dramatic
+passes, illustrative of the fearful fate that might have befallen
+him.
+
+It presented to Eustace's mind a vivid picture--the black-fellow
+with poised boomerang standing over the shrinking Chinkee,
+threatening his life if he did not obey the exorbitant demands.
+
+To Mrs. Orban came another thought. There apparently really were
+black-fellows in the neighbourhood--a whole tribe living in the
+Bush.
+
+The story of the poor white man strung up in the wood made the
+listeners shudder. Such a thing had never come into their
+experience, but they knew the terrible possibility of it. Many a
+man has been so detained in the Bush, riding inadvertently against
+the "wait-a-bit" or "lawyer cane." It springs round its victim like
+a coiled spring, and he is helpless to free himself if his arms
+happen to be pinioned. Who could this particular poor fellow have
+been, found not far from the plantation? No one would ever know,
+Mrs. Orban reflected pitifully.
+
+"And what were the things you had to buy, Sinkum Fung?" asked
+Eustace, with intense interest.
+
+Sinkum searched amongst his curious garments and produced a handful
+of things, which he set solemnly down upon the table beside Mrs.
+Orban, watching her narrowly, to see what effect his action
+produced.
+
+She gave a start of surprise.
+
+"Why," said Eustace, springing to his feet, "this is the servants'
+jewellery, and their watches. The black-fellow never got them off
+any dead white man at all; he stole them straight out of our
+house."
+
+Sinkum nodded drearily.
+
+So he had discovered, he said. When too late he had heard of
+the reward for the catching of that black-fellow. He could
+only claim the reward for returning the goods; but surely the
+good missee would not let him lose so much. He had given ten
+times the value of those things, and thus only had he saved
+them from the black-fellow.
+
+In his endeavour to point out that it was due to him, and him
+alone, the jewellery had reappeared, Sinkum Fung next fell
+into raptures over his own deeds. Had he but known that missee
+wanted the black-fellow too, he would have given his greatest
+treasure--his fine long pig-tail--to have detained him. He made
+the statement with a great air of devotion--a Chinaman does not
+part lightly with his pig-tail.
+
+But no amount of assurances would prevail on Mrs. Orban to give the
+man more than the promised regard. Any further claim he might have
+to make, she said, must be made to Mr. Orban on his return. Sinkum
+Fung went away in a transparently aggrieved frame of mind.
+
+"Mother," Eustace said, as soon as the man's footsteps died away
+round the veranda, "did you believe his story about the
+black-fellow?"
+
+"At first, yes," Mrs. Orban admitted. "I dare say such a thing is
+quite possible. I pictured the black-fellow bringing in a wallet
+containing the poor traveller's kit, a worn leather belt, with
+perhaps some money in it, a pipe and pouch."
+
+"Yes, that is what I expected," said Eustace.
+
+"Then one could have believed that Sinkum Fung might be taken in by
+the tale," Mrs. Orban went on; "but never tell me he believed it
+when he saw those trinkets. They are not the sort of things a
+Bushman would be carrying about with him, and Sinkum knows that as
+well as I do. He is no simpleton. His mistake was that he thought I
+might be one, and he overreached himself in his description of the
+ferocious Jaga-Jaga."
+
+"You don't even think Sinkum was terrified into buying the things?"
+Eustace asked.
+
+Mrs. Orban shook her head and smiled.
+
+"I very much doubt it," she said. "Indeed, I am inclined to fancy
+the thief was no black-fellow at all now. It is just as likely he
+was a Malay or Manila boy from the plantation, and Sinkum Fung is
+in collusion with him. They will probably go shares in the reward;
+but Sinkum meant to make as much more out of me for himself as he
+possibly could."
+
+"My word! if the other fellow comes again," said Eustace, "don't I
+just hope we shall catch him."
+
+"I am sure I hope and trust he will not come again," said Mrs.
+Orban gravely. "We have had quite as many disturbances already as I
+feel inclined for."
+
+Mary and Kate were delighted to get back their belongings, and made
+no further reference to running away. They felt more secure with
+the Robertson family living in the house. Besides, a letter from
+Mr. Orban stated that he was getting through his business quicker
+than he had expected, and he should only now wait for Miss Chase's
+boat from England, because she would need an escort up country.
+
+This cheered every one immensely. It was something to look forward
+to, and the days began to go quicker and more brightly.
+
+Then Nesta and Peter came home full of all their doings at the
+Highlands, and this made a great difference to the house. Eustace
+did not know he could have been so glad to see his brother and
+sister; it was not till they came back that he realized how dull he
+had really been without them.
+
+The Robertsons still stayed. Nesta slept with her mother, and the
+three boys were in the next room.
+
+Nesta knew a good deal about the excitements that had been taking
+place at home. It was thought useless to try and hush the matter
+up. Something was bound to slip out in the course of conversation,
+and so she was given the lightest possible version of the theft,
+ending with an amusing account of Sinkum Fung's visit.
+
+Of course Bob brought the children over, and to Eustace's intense
+gratitude, when it came to the story of the bogus scare, and Nesta
+seemed inclined to giggle, Bob said gravely, "Older people have
+made worse mistakes," and then proceeded to tell the story against
+himself about the tree stump and the pigs.
+
+There was something so big and nice about Bob's nature that,
+without meaning to, he always made people ashamed of being petty
+and ill-natured when he was present.
+
+"You made a good shot at the dingo, old man," he said. "It won't be
+long before you are out shooting with me, at this rate."
+
+Of course no one could laugh at Eustace after that. Bob saw nothing
+funny about what he had done--Bob actually praised him--and when
+Bob praised it meant something.
+
+"I say," Nesta asked when the twins were alone together, "weren't
+you most awfully scared?"
+
+"Well, I guess I was rather," Eustace admitted; "but of course it
+was silly to be. Mother thinks it was only one of the plantation
+hands now, and not a black-fellow at all, you see."
+
+"But a plantation hand might have knifed somebody," Nesta said,
+with a shudder. "I hope he won't come again. I know I should scream
+like anything."
+
+"I believe it would be the worst thing you could do," Eustace said
+gravely. "He would be sure to try and shut you up if you made a
+row--any thief would, if he wasn't such a coward as that one. But I
+wouldn't think about it if I were you, or you'll be fancying
+things, just as I did."
+
+In spite of which advice Nesta did suffer a few qualms at night, if
+she happened to wake in the dark; but sleeping with her mother was
+comforting, and the panics never lasted long.
+
+Lessons began again, and the days passed in their usual routine,
+but with the added joy of something to look forward to in the
+arrival of the new aunt.
+
+It was a nightly annoyance to Peter that he was put to bed at the
+same time as Sandy Robertson, while the twins stayed up to late
+dinner. Becky went to bed still earlier, and was generally fast
+asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
+
+"You might shoot pistols in the room after Becky is asleep," was a
+favourite saying, "and you wouldn't wake her."
+
+Which statement she almost verified the night Eustace caused such
+an excitement; she really did not wake until the second shot was
+fired.
+
+But Peter was not a heavy sleeper. Moreover, he had heard something
+about the black-fellow stories too. Sandy Robertson gave him a good
+deal of information as they played together, and the little fellow
+got into a thoroughly nervous state.
+
+Mrs. Orban often sat with him till he was asleep, and then left a
+shaded light burning both in his room and her own.
+
+It did not startle her very much one night as she sat at dinner
+with the twins to see Peter tear into the room yelling for her at
+the top of his voice. She guessed he had awakened from a dream, and
+was just frightened at finding himself alone with no one but Sandy.
+
+He sprang into her arms and lay there trembling, panting only
+"Mother--mother--mother," over and over again.
+
+"Well, sonny, what is it?" said his mother soothingly, stroking
+back his hair from his forehead.
+
+"O mummie," he gasped, "there's something moving in your room. I
+heard it."
+
+Eustace and Nesta started, and exchanged frightened glances. But
+Mrs. Orban answered quite calmly,--
+
+"I dare say, darling. It is probably Mary turning down the beds."
+
+She rose as she spoke and went towards the door.
+
+"Oh, don't, mummie! don't go," Peter pleaded eagerly; "perhaps it's
+a black-fellow."
+
+"Nonsense, darling," Mrs. Orban said. "You can stay here with
+Eustace and Nesta if you like, but of course I must go and see what
+the noise was."
+
+"I'm going with mother," said Eustace sturdily.
+
+"So am I," said Nesta.
+
+"We'll all go," said Mrs. Orban cheerily; "and I am quite sure Mary
+will think us mad when she sees us."
+
+So down the passage they went, Peter trembling and clinging to his
+mother. Straight into Mrs. Orban's room they all trooped, and of
+course, when they got there, there was no one to be seen--not even
+Mary turning down the beds.
+
+On they went into the boys' room, and all was peaceful there; for
+Peter had been too frightened to yell till he reached the
+dining-room, and Sandy had not been roused.
+
+"There, you see," said Mrs. Orban; "what did I tell you? There are
+far too many of us in the house now for any one to dare to come."
+
+She went on into the kitchen still holding Peter, and Mary and Kate
+certainly did look surprised.
+
+"Master Peter has been having a nightmare," Mrs. Orban explained,
+"and I want to reassure him. Were you in my room just now, Mary?"
+
+"No, ma'am," Mary said; "I haven't been there since dinner."
+
+"Oh, well, then, he must have been dreaming," Mrs. Orban said,
+still in the same cheery way. "We will just go all through the
+house and show him everything is all right, and then I will sit by
+him till he gets to sleep again."
+
+Eustace took a lantern, and on they all went right through the
+house, very naturally finding no one. Robertson, who was smoking on
+the veranda, declared that no one had been up or down the steps
+since he had been out, and Mrs. Robertson, who was in her bedroom
+lulling the baby to sleep, said no one had been that way either.
+
+After all of which Eustace and Nesta began to breathe freely; but,
+to tell the truth, at first they had both been a good deal scared
+by Peter's announcement. They guessed their mother was just making
+all this show of bravery for Peter's and their sakes, for another
+visit from the thief was not at all unlikely.
+
+But when Robertson laughed at the notion of any one having been
+able to pass him unseen where he stood near the veranda steps, when
+every nook and cranny had been looked into and no one was
+forthcoming to prove Peter's tale, every one was certain he had had
+a bad dream.
+
+"You are a little silly," Nesta said bracingly. "Of course there
+are always noises in the house."
+
+"But this was a big noise," Peter objected; "something banged."
+
+"Why didn't you say that before?" said Eustace with superiority;
+then added, out of the vastness of his recent experience, "Nobody
+ever bangs when they want to rob a house; they try to be as silent
+as mice."
+
+"Besides," said Nesta, "there is nothing for any one to steal now,
+since we keep all our things hidden away."
+
+This was a rule Mrs. Orban had made--that everything of value
+must be put away under lock and key. She had no fancy to be
+perpetually paying away rewards for recovered goods. She
+believed Sinkum Fung to be quite capable of setting people
+to do these little pilferings just in order to obtain the
+rewards. Disagreeable as was the idea, it frightened her far
+less than the thought of genuine black-fellows lurking about
+the place; they were really dangerous, cruel, and lawless.
+
+Mrs. Orban took Peter back with her into the dining-room, and he
+sat cuddled up on her knee while she finished dinner.
+
+They were all sitting listening to just one "good-night" story
+before going to bed, when Mary came into the room, gave a
+frightened glance round, and exclaimed,--
+
+"Lor', ma'am, haven't you got Miss Becky here? I made sure you
+had."
+
+Every one stared at Mary, and thought she looked rather white and
+queer.
+
+"Did you, Mary?" asked Mrs. Orban rather hurriedly. "Why?"
+
+"Well, ma'am," said Mary in an unsteady voice, "because she isn't
+in her bed."
+
+Mrs. Orban sprang to her feet.
+
+"Not in her bed?" she exclaimed. "My good woman, what do you
+mean?"
+
+Setting Peter down on the ground, she turned swiftly and left the
+room.
+
+"I just went in to turn down the beds," explained Mary to the twins
+as they hurriedly followed, "and went over to Miss Becky's corner
+to take a look at her, and she wasn't there. I didn't stop a
+minute, I was so took aback, but came straight off to see if maybe
+she was in the dining-room. You might have knocked me down with a
+feather when I saw she wasn't."
+
+Mrs. Orban rushed to Becky's bed. She was standing beside it as if
+petrified when the others entered. The bed was empty. This was no
+dream. Becky really and truly was not there.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE WITCH.
+
+
+Of course Peter's story jumped to every one's mind, and with a
+horrified cry Mrs. Orban fell forward, fainting, on to the empty
+bed.
+
+The recent hunt through the house had been, as Eustace guessed, a
+greater strain than she had allowed any one to see; she could not
+be certain that they were on a wild-goose chase. This, coming on
+the top of it, was just too much for her.
+
+Instances of children being stolen had from time to time come to
+her knowledge--stories of little ones silently, mysteriously
+disappearing and never being heard of again. The twins had heard
+the same from the servants, among other disturbing stories. This
+last terrible event seemed just to prove that the first visitor had
+been no mere plantation hand; the stealing of a baby was more like
+the work of the native blacks.
+
+Nesta wrung her hands and wept. Eustace dashed away to fetch
+Robertson. Mary lost her head completely, and nobody thought of
+trying to restore poor Mrs. Orban to consciousness till motherly
+little Mrs. Robertson appeared on the scene.
+
+Robertson stood in the middle of the room looking the picture of
+bewilderment.
+
+"This beats everything," he said in an awed voice.
+
+Every one was really too terrified to make a noise. Puzzled glances
+were exchanged, questions whispered, and Robertson said again,--
+
+"This beats everything! It doesn't seem possible, unless she has
+been spirited away; for how could any one pass me on those steps
+without my seeing them?"
+
+"Could he have swarmed one of the posts?" Eustace asked.
+
+"I shouldn't say he could," Robertson replied, "but it looks as if
+he did. How could a man swarm a post with a sleeping child in his
+arms?"
+
+"Black-fellows are dreadfully clever," said Kate.
+
+"Hush," said Mrs. Robertson, "the poor lady is coming to herself.
+Don't let her hear you talking like that. Oh dear, how will she
+bear it?"
+
+The poor woman's eyes were full of tears. She knew well enough what
+a mother's feelings would be under such awful circumstances.
+
+"Every corner of the house was searched," said Robertson
+meditatively.
+
+"We didn't look under the beds," said Nesta.
+
+"Silly," said Eustace. "As if a black-fellow would have stopped to
+be looked for under a bed."
+
+"Yes--that's no go," said Robertson; and just at that moment there
+came such a strange sound from under the very bed they were
+standing by that every one jumped--a sound that brought Mrs. Orban
+back to her senses far quicker than any of good Mrs. Robertson's
+restoratives, for it was the voice of Becky herself.
+
+"Good gracious!" exclaimed all the women, after the first shock of
+surprise was over.
+
+"My patience," said Robertson, and down they all went on their
+hands and knees like a party of kangaroos, peering under the bed.
+
+There lay Becky, rosy with sleep, safe and sound, with puckered
+face and plaintive voice, evidently wondering what all the fuss was
+about.
+
+They hauled her from under the bed, and placed her on her mother's
+knee, where she sat blinking at the light like a young owl.
+
+"Why," said Nesta, "she must have tumbled out of bed in her sleep,
+and rolled over underneath."
+
+"So she must," agreed every one.
+
+"That was the noise Peter heard," Eustace said.
+
+"Of course it was," said every one except Mrs. Orban; and she said,
+as she bent her face over the baby in her arms,--
+
+"Oh, you dreadful children! Have you a conspiracy amongst you to
+frighten me out of my wits? Or are you trying to harden my nerves?
+I begin to wish your father would come home."
+
+She laughed a little, and it sounded much more like sobbing. So
+kind Mrs. Robertson hurried every one off to bed, because she said
+Mrs. Orban must be quite worn out.
+
+Eustace was so upset by his mother's words that he could not get to
+sleep for hours. They seemed to hold a reproach specially for
+himself--for had he not been the first to terrify his mother? It
+was not a good record to present to his father; and he had meant to
+be such a stand-by and comfort. With all his heart he echoed Mrs.
+Orban's wish. He had dreaded his father's going away; he longed for
+his return.
+
+The very next day the wish was fulfilled. News came up the hill
+that the plantation schooner had been sighted the evening before;
+she was in the bay. By midday the travellers had arrived, and the
+climax of the great excitement was reached.
+
+Every one had wondered a hundred times and more what that first
+greeting would be like--what words would be said. As a matter of
+fact, when the time really came, nobody said anything at all except
+Mr. Orban, who exclaimed when he caught sight of his wife,
+"Darling, what is the matter? You are looking ill."
+
+But Mrs. Orban stopped him with the promise to tell him everything
+later on. Meanwhile she nearly wept for joy over the meeting with
+Aunt Dorothy, and was far too happy to remember or speak of the
+distresses of the past week or so.
+
+The children hung back shyly and stared at the new-comer--a tall,
+slender girl, dressed, Nesta afterwards commented, just like a
+person in a story book, so dainty was she.
+
+Dorothy Chase was not at all like Mrs. Orban. She was certainly
+pretty, but the most remarkable thing about her was her expression,
+so vivacious was it, so keenly interested and alert. She was a
+great contrast to the people amongst whom she had come, for
+tropical heat saps a good deal of the enthusiasm of life out of
+people--even the children were subject to lassitude.
+
+They looked a quiet enough set as Miss Chase cast a quick searching
+glance around her after greeting her sister, and there flashed
+through her mind a contrast between them and the nephew and niece
+she had left but a few weeks ago in England--the children of
+another sister, orphans who lived with their grandparents in the
+old home.
+
+"Well, chicks," said Aunt Dorothy, with a laugh, "who is going to
+speak to me first?"
+
+They were standing, all in an untidy row, Becky, with one finger in
+her mouth, hanging on to Nesta's skirt.
+
+To the new-comer they looked pasty-faced, spiritless beings. The
+prints that the girls were dressed in were rather washed out; Peter
+had outgrown his suit. They were ill-clad, shy, and awkward.
+
+Eustace flushed with an uncomfortable feeling that they were not
+behaving very courteously, and came forward the instant Miss Chase
+spoke. Nesta followed, and then Peter, all as stiff as pokers in
+their shyness. But Becky Miss Chase picked up with a playful little
+shake, and kissed her heartily.
+
+"Oh, you dear, funny wee soul," she said, "how glad I am to see
+you. I've brought out a Kodak and I've promised to take all your
+photos almost every other day, for certainly no one at home could
+guess the least little bit what you are like."
+
+Becky did not resent the unceremonious treatment at all, but took
+it quite placidly in her own particular way. This gave Peter
+confidence.
+
+"Have you brought lots of boxes?" he asked, with an interested
+stare up into his young aunt's face.
+
+Eustace pulled his sleeve.
+
+"Shut up," he whispered. "Don't ask questions; it's rude."
+
+Eustace felt uncomfortable. He knew quite well whither his small
+brother's questions were trending. Peter was wondering what would
+be in those boxes for himself.
+
+"A good many," answered Miss Chase; but she was allowed time to say
+no more, because she was hurried into the house to rest and
+refresh.
+
+At tea the children sat round as solemn as owls and listened to all
+the questions and answers about the home folk. They picked up
+scraps of information most interesting to themselves, especially
+about the English cousins, Herbert, who was sixteen, and Brenda,
+who was a month or so older than the twins. From time to time they
+had heard of these cousins in letters, but it made them seem much
+more real when they were talked about by some one who had just come
+away from them.
+
+"Herbert is a very big fellow," Miss Chase said. "He is doing
+famously at Winchester."
+
+"Lucky chap," thought Eustace, who never read a school story
+without longing to go to a big English school.
+
+"And what about Brenda?" questioned Mrs. Orban.
+
+"You shall see a photo that was taken of her the other day," was
+the answer. "Most people think her very pretty."
+
+"Does she go to school too?" said Mrs. Orban, asking the very
+question Nesta was bursting to put.
+
+"Oh yes, Brenda is a regular schoolgirl. You see it would be so
+lonely for her to have lessons at home with a governess."
+
+"Lucky girl," thought Nesta, and sighed.
+
+"She was quite green with envy when she heard I was coming out
+here," Miss Chase said, "and threatened to have all sorts of
+illnesses, necessitating change of air for recovery, so that she
+might come with me."
+
+"Oh, I wish she had," Nesta said impulsively.
+
+"I don't think her grannie would agree with you," laughed Miss
+Chase. "She can hardly bear to part with her every term. If you
+want to see her, I think your best plan is to have an illness
+yourself, and let me take you back with me for change of air."
+
+"That would be better and better," Nesta exclaimed, "only I should
+want mother and every one else to come too."
+
+"Well, why not?" asked Miss Chase gaily. "Let's make up a party and
+all go back together. I am only allowed to stay two months, and
+then I must be off again. I will willingly pack you all up in my
+boxes and take you with me."
+
+"What did I tell you?" said a deep voice from the window, and there
+stood Bob Cochrane on the veranda. "I said she would bewitch you
+and spirit you all away."
+
+"You did, you did," said Peter, who had been drinking in every
+word; "you said you wouldn't like her."
+
+"Oh, come, no tales out of school," said Bob, as he crossed the
+threshold and came forward to be introduced; "you are giving me a
+bad start, you know."
+
+"I am sorry to have made such a bad impression at the outset," Miss
+Chase responded merrily as she shook hands. "Would it appease you
+at all if I offered to pack you with the rest?"
+
+"I wouldn't if I were you, Dorothy," said Mr. Orban. "He would take
+such a fearful amount of room, even if you doubled him up."
+
+Miss Chase smiled as she eyed the great big fellow.
+
+"I wouldn't come if you paid me," Bob said lightly. "They tell me
+it is a toss up whether the climate or the people freeze you up
+most in England."
+
+"Treason, treason, Bob," said Mrs. Orban. "Remember we are
+English."
+
+"I guess you have mellowed in the sunshine," Bob said
+imperturbably. "Children, don't you listen to a good word about
+England; don't you let yourselves be spirited away by bad fairies,
+or you'll regret it."
+
+"It's high treason," shouted Eustace. "England is our country. Off
+with his head."
+
+Then suddenly Miss Chase saw what her nephews and nieces really
+were like.
+
+"He has got to be punished," Nesta sang out.
+
+Peter and Becky made a simultaneous dive at the unfortunate Bob,
+who had begun whistling with a great show of unconcern.
+
+"What's his punishment to be?" demanded Eustace.
+
+Mrs. Orban thought a minute while Peter suggested pommelling, and
+Nesta mentioned a few tortures in the way of old-fashioned
+forfeits.
+
+"It's too hot for violent exercise," said Bob, when Nesta requested
+him to walk round the room three times on his head. "I shall go
+home to mother if I am ill-used."
+
+"Have some tea, Bob," said Mr. Orban.
+
+"No, no," cried the bullying trio, "not till he has paid his
+penalty for high treason."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Orban gently, "suppose you fetch the banjo and
+make him sing for his tea."
+
+"Good! Good!" was the immediate acclamation.
+
+Bob sat down resignedly.
+
+"I don't think a crueller sentence could have been passed," he said
+with a mock groan.
+
+"Between ourselves," said Mrs. Orban, as the children rushed into
+the drawing-room to fetch the banjo, "there is no tea in the pot,
+and you may as well sing till the kettle is boiling."
+
+Bob took the banjo with the air of a martyr and tuned it skilfully.
+
+"I choose my own song," he said, struck a few chords, and began, in
+his really beautiful voice,--
+
+    "Dey told us darkies right away out west
+    In England men make der money much de best,
+    And I believed dat ebry word was true,
+    So dat is why I come along wid you.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+"Oh, oh, oh," interrupted the children, "more treason! If you sing
+that song you will have to do another as well."
+
+"You can't hang a man after his head is cut off," said Bob
+stolidly, and went on,--
+
+    "But now we're here, why, de money doesn't grow,
+    And we ain't got nuffin' but de old banjo:
+    So we rove the streets if de wedder's wet or dry,
+    Till my heart most breaks and der's water in your eye.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+"Most pathetic," said Miss Chase, with a twinkle in her dark eyes.
+"I think I begin to see where Mr. Cochrane gets his revolutionary
+sentiments from."
+
+    "Then in sleep at night de nigger dreams ob home,
+    Where de sun really shines and de frosts nebber come,
+    Where we'd plenty to eat, and a little hut of logs,
+    And we hadn't got to beg for our bread like de dogs.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+Bob's voice became more and more plaintive; he sat in a drooping
+attitude with his head on one side as he finished,--
+
+    "But it ain't no good all dis singin' out of tune,
+    For we can't get warm, tho' they say it's hot for June;
+    It's certain for darkies dis is not de place,
+    Where eben de sun am ashamed to show his face.
+            Oho you and de banjo."
+
+"So that is your opinion of England, is it?" asked Miss Chase.
+"Well, I am not surprised you don't want to come, then."
+
+"But of course it is all stuff, and nothing but a silly old darkie
+song," said Eustace.
+
+"You wait till you get there, young man," said Bob, still with an
+air of mock gloom about him; "you'll remember my warning then. It
+is so cold in England the natives have their windows glued in to
+keep out the air, and they have front doors as thick as walls, all
+studded with nails and brass knockers."
+
+"But what are the brass knockers for?" asked Nesta. "They wouldn't
+keep you warm."
+
+"Certainly not," was the answer; "the brass knockers are for the
+purpose of waking the people inside the house, who are always
+asleep with the cold--like dormice."
+
+"Mother," demanded Eustace, "do you think he ought to have any tea
+after that? He hasn't done penance, and he isn't a bit sorry. He is
+making it worse and worse."
+
+"I think, darling, as he is a guest he must have his tea," Mrs.
+Orban said; "but I will send a note by him to his mother to say he
+has not been good."
+
+"I'm not going home to-night--so there," said Bob complacently;
+"I'm going to sleep in a hammock on the veranda."
+
+"Oh, jolly!" exclaimed every one, and there was a chorus of, "We
+can stay up late, can't we, just for to-night--Aunt Dorothy's first
+night?"
+
+But Aunt Dorothy did not allow the compliment to deceive her. Not
+for her but for Bob Cochrane did the young people want to stay up
+later. He was certainly a great favourite.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A RIDERLESS HORSE.
+
+
+It was a delightfully merry evening. Bob had to re-do his
+punishment and sing several songs, and then he struck.
+
+"I am quite sure Miss Chase sings," he declared. "It's her turn
+now. Witches ought to be punished even more severely than
+traitors."
+
+She made no demur, but sat down to the piano and began to sing. But
+in the middle of her song such a noise began over her head that she
+dropped her hands laughingly, and exclaimed,--
+
+"How can I sing with that wretched electric bell going on all the
+time?"
+
+"Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r," sounded shrilly through the room,
+louder and louder.
+
+"Electric bell?" exclaimed the children with blank faces.
+
+"Oh, you dear new chum," said Mr. Orban, bursting into peals of
+laughter, accompanied by Bob, "that isn't an electric bell; it's a
+cicada."
+
+"A cicada!" repeated Miss Chase.
+
+"Yes; a kind of grasshopper, or cricket, you know," Mrs. Orban
+explained, looking much amused. "He is up there in the roof. I am
+afraid you will have to stop, for as long as you go on so will
+he."
+
+"How very ill-mannered of him," said Miss Chase.
+
+"Let's play something instead," said Peter, who was getting sleepy,
+but would not own it.
+
+He was not really fond of music--Bob's comic songs excepted.
+
+The game was begun, and going merrily, when suddenly there rose on
+the night air such an appalling howl that Miss Chase started and
+turned pale. To her astonishment, when she looked round the table,
+she found that no one but herself was at all disturbed by the
+sound.
+
+"You to play, I believe, Miss Chase," said Bob, who sat opposite
+her.
+
+She put down her card, and at that moment the agonized cry came
+again, apparently from immediately under the veranda. Dorothy
+gripped her hands tightly together, and again looked round on the
+unmoved faces. Again the cry resounded.
+
+"Surely," she said, looking appealingly at Bob, "there is something
+or some one in dreadful pain outside."
+
+Bob laughed.
+
+"I thought you seemed upset, but I didn't like to mention it," he
+said. "That's nothing but a dingo howling. There'll be a whole pack
+of them at it presently, I dare say. I'll go out and disperse them
+as soon as the game is over."
+
+"What is a dingo?" inquired Miss Chase.
+
+"Don't you know that, Aunt Dorothy?" asked Peter in tones of
+contemptuous astonishment. "Well, it's the commonest thing here."
+
+"Peter," said Bob gravely, "do you know what a top hat and a frock
+coat are like?"
+
+Peter shook his head in bewilderment.
+
+"Don't you?" said Bob, mimicking the small boy's tone. "Well,
+they're the commonest things in England. I am surprised at your
+ignorance!"
+
+Peter reddened.
+
+"But I've never seen them," he said.
+
+"Nor has Miss Chase ever seen a dingo," said Bob calmly.--"It is
+the wild dog of the Bush, Miss Chase. They come prowling round the
+house at night, looking for food."
+
+The howling grew worse and worse. Bob quietly sauntered out on to
+the veranda. There were a few shots, and the noise changed to yelps
+as the dingoes scurried in terror down the hill.
+
+"Don't be worried if you hear them in the distance most of the
+night," said Mrs. Orban. "I am afraid it will take you some time to
+get used to our noisy hours of darkness."
+
+When Miss Chase tried to settle down to sleep she remembered these
+words, and it seemed superfluous to her that she should have been
+wished "good-night" by every one. A good night was impossible. The
+dingoes howled persistently in the woods below, and quite close
+there was the incessant "croak-croak-croak-croak" of tree-frogs,
+together with many other inexplicable and weird noises.
+
+Nesta slept placidly through it all; but not till there came a lull
+just an hour or so before dawn did the weary stranger drop into
+oblivion.
+
+It did not seem to her she had been asleep five minutes, and there
+was only the faintest glimmer of light in her room, when she was
+awakened by something new. Just under her window there was a
+strident laugh.
+
+"Ha-ha-ha!" Then another, "Ha-ha-ha!"
+
+Miss Chase listened in bewilderment.
+
+"What extraordinary people," she thought, glancing enviously at the
+undisturbed Nesta. "Who on earth can be out at this time?"
+
+She supposed that it must be some of the plantation hands prowling
+about outside; but she wondered at her brother-in-law allowing them
+to behave in such a tiresome way when people were wanting to sleep.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha!" jeered the voice outside, as if mocking at her
+annoyance. Then followed a chorus of chuckles, and Miss Chase sat
+up in bed, and strained her ears to catch the joke, if possible.
+But no words reached her. There was a little pause as if some one
+might be speaking, and then another burst of delighted chuckles, so
+very funny that they were quite infectious, and Miss Chase smiled
+in spite of herself.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha! ha-ha-ha-ha!" laughed the voices. Now certainly
+there were more than one.
+
+"This is too ridiculous," thought Miss Chase, beginning to chuckle
+softly to herself. "What can they be saying or doing out there?"
+
+At last the hilarity became so boisterous that her curiosity got
+the better of her, and slipping on a wrapper she opened the window
+and crept out on to the veranda.
+
+To her surprise there was no one to be seen--not a soul was about
+either on the veranda or below, though she leant right over, and
+strained her eyes to catch a glimpse of these queer people.
+
+It was comparatively deliciously cool outside, the grayness before
+dawn a pleasant contrast to the tropical glare that was positively
+hurtful to the new-comer's eyes. Going to the corner of the
+veranda, she gazed away and away towards the now deep gray sea,
+lying like a bath of mist beyond the dense black of the trees in
+the valley.
+
+"What a queer, unreal world it seems," she was thinking, "and yet
+to little Peter this is all reality, and England nothing but a
+dream."
+
+"Ha-ha!" said a voice from immediately below, so loudly as to sound
+almost insulting.
+
+Miss Chase jumped, looked about in astonishment--and saw no one.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha-ha!" repeated the mocker.
+
+"I wonder if he sees me, and is laughing at me now?" thought the
+girl.
+
+She gave a little shiver. It was not a very pleasant sensation to
+feel herself spied upon by an unseen watcher, and she began to beat
+a hasty retreat towards her own window again.
+
+"Ha-ha!" laughed the unseen one, with such a note of triumph that
+now she was certain the humour was at her expense. It annoyed her,
+and at the same time it rather frightened her. Was it possibly a
+madman?--for assuredly the chuckles became madder and madder as
+they increased. Besides which, what sane person would be out of bed
+and giggling at such an hour? The thought of a lunatic or two at
+large lurking round the house was discomforting indeed. In England,
+with fast-barred doors and windows that are supposed to be
+unassailable, it would not be pleasant; but here--where what might
+be called the "front door" was nothing but the flimsiest of French
+windows, the windows themselves utterly powerless to keep any one
+out--the English girl found this new suspicion particularly
+disagreeable. She wondered whether she ought not to go and rouse
+Mr. Orban. Perhaps he ought to be warned, she reflected, so as to
+be ready in case these maniacs burst into the house, intent on the
+mischief they were so evidently gloating over in anticipation.
+
+"I wish I knew what to do," she thought in great agitation.
+
+"Ha-ha! ha-ha-ha-ha!" responded the laughers with maniacal glee.
+
+"Why, Aunt Dorothy," exclaimed Nesta, as Miss Chase entered the
+room in a hurry, "what have you been doing?"
+
+Nesta was sitting up in bed. She had evidently awakened, and
+discovering her aunt's absence, was wondering about it. It
+comforted Miss Chase to have some one to speak to; but, determined
+not to frighten the child, she said as steadily as she could,--
+
+"I was only trying to find out what those people are laughing at
+out there. It seems such a strange time to be so amused. I suppose
+they must be some of the coolies going to work."
+
+"People!" repeated Nesta blankly.
+
+"Yes--listen!" said Miss Chase; and as another burst of thick-toned
+mirth reached them, "There--don't you hear that?"
+
+Nesta rolled down into her pillow, and fairly shouted into it.
+
+"What is the matter with the child?" asked Miss Chase in
+bewilderment.
+
+"People!" gasped Nesta, as soon as she had any voice to speak with.
+"Those aren't people; they're birds!"
+
+"Birds!" said Miss Chase. "Impossible. You must be asleep still, or
+you didn't hear what I said."
+
+"Yes, I did," Nesta replied. "You mean those funny fat chuckles and
+ha-ha's? Well, those are birds--the laughing jackasses. I can show
+them to you in a minute."
+
+Out they both went on to the veranda, and in the fast-increasing
+light Nesta pointed out some trees below, on which sat groups of
+brightly-hued birds, not unlike kingfishers in appearance, but very
+much larger. They had without doubt the funniest faces Miss Chase
+had ever seen. Not only did they laugh aloud--they positively
+grinned, so comic was the expression of their wide beaks. She
+laughed herself till the tears ran down her cheeks, and Nesta put
+her head down on the veranda railing and wept with laughter too.
+
+The sun was up now, there being practically no twilight either
+before sunrise or after sunset in North Queensland. The glory of
+the scene sobered Miss Chase, and she stood watching.
+
+The glee of the birds was explained. They sat and laughed as they
+watched for their prey, then pounced down upon the unwary locusts
+or lizards they had marked, and returning to the tree, sat
+chuckling triumphantly over the capture before eating.
+
+"It is really rather horrid of them, isn't it?" said Miss Chase.
+
+But Nesta did not sympathize.
+
+"Nobody minds," she said, "especially about locusts being
+eaten--nasty things. When there is a plague of them it means ruin
+to father; they destroy every blade of sugar-cane."
+
+Over the tree-tops in the valley below appeared a cloud of
+shimmering whiteness, moving swiftly round the base of the hill.
+
+"What is that?" asked Miss Chase curiously.
+
+"White cockatoos," said Nesta, with a yawn; "they're changing their
+feeding-ground--white cockatoos with bright yellow crests. But, I
+say, don't you think you had better go back to bed? You're looking
+awfully tired."
+
+"Is that one for me and two for yourself?" said Miss Chase lightly.
+"Personally, I would rather dress and go for a walk in the wood
+down there."
+
+"I don't think you had better," Nesta said, shaking her head
+doubtfully. "We aren't allowed to go there alone. It is awfully
+easy to get lost; and then there are snakes and things. You might
+get into a mangrove swamp too--or you might meet black-fellows."
+
+"Well, really," laughed Miss Chase, leading the way back to bed,
+"you don't give a very flattering description. Why, at home I'm
+often up at sunrise, out all by myself in the woods. You don't even
+meet poachers, for they take good care not to be seen."
+
+"I think England must be splendid," sighed Nesta.
+
+"I wonder if you would really think so," Miss Chase responded. "Mr.
+Cochrane gave you a very dismal picture of it, remember."
+
+"Oh, but Bob has never been there. Besides, he was only
+exaggerating, because he doesn't want us to go, you know."
+
+Miss Chase gave such a graphic account at breakfast of her early
+morning experiences that every one at the table shouted with
+laughter. The jackasses were alluded to ever after as Aunt
+Dorothy's lunatics.
+
+"To talk of serious things," said Mr. Orban, half way through the
+meal, "we shall have to be fearfully careful with the water. The
+second tank is almost empty, and I doubt its lasting till the rains
+come."
+
+"That's bad," said Bob.
+
+"Things are bad," said Mr. Orban. "I hope the rains will hurry up,
+or we shall have the cane catching fire. We should lose every bit
+of the crop if that happened."
+
+"Dear me," said Miss Chase, "you seem to have fearful difficulties
+to contend with. Nesta was talking about locusts only this
+morning."
+
+"Locusts will destroy the young crop," said Mr. Orban. "If it
+escapes them, fire may destroy the old. Too much rain and too
+little do equal damage. We've had a good many unprosperous years,
+with one thing and another."
+
+"It looks grand burning," said Eustace.
+
+"A sheet of flame, and your heart in the middle of it, never seems
+very grand to the man whose year's work and hope is being burnt
+under his very nose," said Mr. Orban.
+
+The children had seldom seen their father look as worried as he did
+then. It seemed to Eustace there was trouble in the air.
+
+"Can't you put out a fire in the cane once it begins?" asked Miss
+Chase with interest.
+
+"No," was the answer; "you can only try to stop it spreading by
+cutting as wide a path as possible between the burning part and the
+sound. It takes all hands to do it, though, and some of the coolies
+can't be got to work for love or money. It is a nasty business when
+it happens."
+
+Bob started off home early; not quite so early as he had meant to,
+because when his horse was brought round ready saddled, he found it
+had lamed itself somehow in the stable. He therefore borrowed a
+horse from Mr. Orban, and left his own to rest for a day or two.
+
+Generally when Bob took his departure after a particularly jolly
+time there was a good deal of depression about. But to-day, with
+the arrival of Aunt Dorothy's boxes up the hill, low spirits
+disappeared as if by magic.
+
+The contents of those boxes kept every one occupied the whole day.
+What with the excitement and curiosity over the many presents--the
+clothes, useful things, and games stowed quaintly into the
+packing-cases together; what with every one's amusement over Miss
+Chase's frequent astonishment at the commonest things of their
+everyday life, time slipped cheerily away towards evening. The
+children never remembered such happiness in their quiet existence
+before, and Miss Chase felt half inclined to weep when she saw what
+simple things were joys to them.
+
+"Herbert and Brenda would laugh at them if they saw them," she
+thought gravely.
+
+Brenda's photograph was very much admired. She was a beautiful girl
+indeed, with a proudly-carried head, and just the suspicion of a
+scornful curve to her lips.
+
+Nesta suppressed a sigh as she looked at her cousin's clothes, for
+Nesta loved pretty things. She let out little bursts of admiration
+that amused her aunt considerably.
+
+"She looks a regular angel," Nesta said. "I never saw any one so
+lovely. Isn't she simply perfect, Aunt Dorothy?"
+
+"She is a very nice girl," was all Miss Chase could be brought to
+admit.
+
+"And she goes to school," murmured Nesta, gazing lingeringly at the
+lucky girl, who seemed to have everything heart could desire. "I
+just want to see her more than everything in the world."
+
+"Perhaps you will some day," said Miss Chase, wondering silently
+how much of the compliment Brenda would return could she see a
+photograph of this rough-headed, ill-dressed little cousin of hers;
+for Brenda was particular--at least over her friends at school.
+
+Eustace gazed silently at the portrait of Herbert. He had no word
+to say about the immaculately-dressed English boy, photographed in
+his best suit, his highest collar, and pet tie. At least he made no
+public comment; but when Nesta bothered him later for an opinion,
+he said shortly,--
+
+"He looks an ass."
+
+"Oh, he doesn't," Nesta said warmly, ready to admire everything
+English.
+
+"I think so," Eustace said imperturbably.
+
+"Then you're a silly, jealous boy," said Nesta in fiery
+championship.
+
+"Who wants to have clothes like Brenda?" was the instant retort,
+"and go to school like Brenda, and be just like Brenda? But I'm
+certain I don't want to look like Herbert anyway. He looks a
+stuck-up ass."
+
+"He--he looks like a gentleman," spluttered Nesta.
+
+"Oh, shut up," said Eustace. "Can't a gentleman look an ass? Who is
+that riding up the hill?"
+
+His quick ears had caught the sound of hoofs, and glad of a pretext
+to change the subject he went and leant over the balcony.
+
+Nesta was at his side with a pounce.
+
+"Hulloa!" he shouted a few seconds later; "here is something
+queer."
+
+"What is it, Eustace?" called his mother from within; and soon
+every one was on the veranda, staring eagerly down the hill.
+
+Coming up at a leisurely trot was a riderless horse--saddled,
+bridled, but alone.
+
+The watchful party waited in breathless astonishment till it was
+close to the house. Then Eustace said sharply,--
+
+"Mother, it's the horse Bob went away on this morning! There's been
+some accident."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A VOICE FROM THE SCRUB.
+
+
+There could be no doubt about it, and every one stared blankly
+after the beautiful big creature as it passed on, round the house
+towards its own stable.
+
+"What can have happened?" Mrs. Orban exclaimed. "Bob is such a
+splendid rider."
+
+"Oh, he can't have been thrown, of course," Eustace said, with an
+emphasis meant to impress Aunt Dorothy.
+
+"Perhaps it's black-fellows," said Nesta shakily.
+
+"Stupid," said Eustace sharply, "Bob can shoot straighter than any
+one I know."
+
+"Instead of wrangling over possibilities, we ought to be doing
+something," said Mrs. Orban. "Eustace, you had better fetch that
+horse and ride down to father at once. Perhaps he will guess what
+it means."
+
+Eustace was off like an arrow from a bow, and presently appeared
+below the veranda, sitting erect and fearless, riding the returned
+horse.
+
+He looked such a scrap perched up there that Miss Chase had a
+sudden qualm as to his safety.
+
+"Will he be all right going down alone?" she asked.
+
+"All right?" questioned Mrs. Orban, looking puzzled.
+
+"Yes; I mean, isn't it rather a risk for him?"
+
+"Oh goody, no!" Nesta answered with a laugh. "Why, Eustace can ride
+anything; he has ridden ever since he was six."
+
+"Father will want to see the horse," Mrs. Orban said. "Perhaps it
+has only run away from the Highlands before it was stabled. But I
+can't think what it has been doing in the interval, or why Bob has
+not sent over to inquire. He ought to have got home by nine at
+latest."
+
+Mr. Orban was as puzzled as every one else when he saw the horse.
+He examined it carefully.
+
+"Well, so far as I can see, Bolter has not been running away," he
+said thoughtfully. "He has not been overheated, and he is as fresh
+as paint. I should say he has had some quiet hours of grazing. But
+where Bob is remains a mystery. I must ride over to the Highlands
+at once and find out if he is there."
+
+"O father, can I come too?" Eustace cried eagerly. "I could ride
+Bolter, and I shall never be happy till I know Bob is all right."
+
+Mr. Orban eyed the boy kindly.
+
+"Yes, you can come," he said. "It will scare Mrs. Cochrane less
+perhaps, and look more casual if I have you with me."
+
+Away they went at a quick trot along the rough road leading to the
+wood known as Palm Tree Scrub. Eustace knew every inch of the way,
+and generally loved to get into the cool and shade under the
+feathery palms. But to-day he glanced left and right, looking for
+he knew not what with sickening anxiety.
+
+The road, nothing but a cart-track, skirted a mangrove swamp
+awhile.
+
+"He can't have got in there," said Eustace, with a nod towards the
+thickly growing stems of ti-trees rearing up from long coarse
+grass.
+
+There was a mysterious darkness in the depths of the woods that
+somehow chilled the boy to-day.
+
+"What should he get into a rank place like that for?" said Mr.
+Orban bracingly.
+
+At the same time he whipped up his horse and hurried forward. He
+was regretting having brought Eustace. A mangrove swamp is an
+unhealthy spot at the best of times, productive of a great deal of
+malarial fever; it would be nightfall, he reflected, before they
+got back, and the mist would be rising.
+
+Away and away out into the open the pair galloped, and came to the
+side of the creek--the bend in the river through which the horses
+had to wade. The water was low just now. There were times when such
+floods roared over this spot that the man carrying the mails had
+been known to be swept away, horse and all, and was never heard of
+again.
+
+At the other side the horses plunged into grass as high as their
+flanks--a flat, uninteresting tract of land, bare of trees except
+where here and there a single palm tree arose. But beyond that the
+ground rose suddenly from the banks of this bend of the river. On
+the summit of a high bank, luxuriantly surrounded by tropical
+foliage of all sorts, was Bob Cochrane's home.
+
+It was a relief to Mr. Orban to find only Mr. Cochrane on the lower
+veranda. He was a short, broad, sandy-haired man with a rough
+appearance, and as kind a heart as could be found in the colony,
+which is saying a great deal.
+
+"Good-evening, Cochrane," said Mr. Orban casually, as he reined in
+his horse. "Is Bob at home?"
+
+Eustace listened for the answer with a thumping heart, and he saw a
+slight look of surprise flit across Mr. Cochrane's face as he
+replied slowly,--
+
+"Bob? No. I thought he was over at your place. He hasn't turned up
+here to-day."
+
+"Well, he was with us," Mr. Orban said, trying hard to keep up the
+careless tone, "but he started off this morning--I thought for
+home."
+
+"Not he," said Mr. Cochrane; "at least he hasn't arrived. Perhaps
+he had to come round by somewhere else--Gairloch or one of those
+places. Come in, won't you, and wait for him, if you want to see
+him."
+
+"Afraid I can't do that," Mr. Orban said, speaking low so that only
+Mr. Cochrane, now by his horse's head, should hear. "Fact is, I'm
+rather worried. Bob's horse went lame, and he borrowed one of mine.
+He should have been here at about nine, but the horse--this one
+Eustace is on--appeared back at my place an hour ago."
+
+Mr. Cochrane stared blankly.
+
+"Without Bob?" he questioned in a dazed way.
+
+"Yes. Don't say anything about it to your wife--it might frighten
+her unnecessarily," Mr. Orban said. "He may have gone round by
+Gairloch, and the beast ran away from there. We can just say I came
+over on business, and then you had better come right off with me to
+see if Bob is all right."
+
+"I'll do that," said the Scotsman, and hurried off to get his
+horse.
+
+"Now look here, Eustace," Mr. Orban said, "I'm going to leave you
+here for to-night, whatever happens. Mother would not thank me for
+bringing you through that mangrove swamp and risking fever. But
+you'll have to keep a quiet tongue in your head and say nothing
+about Bob's leaving our house to-day. If you say nothing, Mrs.
+Cochrane and Trix will only fancy he is staying with us."
+
+"O father," Eustace said pleadingly, "need I stay really?"
+
+The prospect frightened him, for he was terrified lest he should
+let the cat out of the bag. Keeping a secret was not one of his
+accomplishments.
+
+"Yes, my lad," was the answer, however; "there is to be no question
+about it, and you are to behave like a man. Anxiety is much worse
+to bear than any bodily hurt, and a man should protect a woman from
+it as he would save her from being tortured. Do you understand?"
+
+"Yes, father," Eustace said, with a sinking heart.
+
+"It isn't a little thing to do," Mr. Orban went on; "it is one of
+the big things, for it means self-sacrifice. It is always
+comforting to oneself to talk things out. You'll have plenty of
+things to say without mentioning Bob. Tell them about Aunt Dorothy
+and her queer mistakes--the boxes you have unpacked--Ah, Mrs.
+Cochrane," he broke off suddenly, looking up to a figure that
+appeared on the upper veranda, "how do you do? I've just come over
+to steal your husband for a bit. I hope you won't mind."
+
+Eustace was amazed at the change in his father's tone; it was
+brisk, cheery, and impossible to suspect.
+
+"But won't you come in?" asked Mrs. Cochrane, who in appearance was
+something like a little brown robin. "You must be hot and tired."
+
+"Not a bit," Mr. Orban said; "and I'm in such a hurry I must ask
+you to forgive the rudeness. I want you to do me a favour too, if
+you will. Keep Eustace the night. I never thought how late I might
+be going home when I brought him; I want to go back by Gairloch."
+
+"Certainly, I'll keep the dear laddie with pleasure," was the
+cordial answer, and the kindly look that beamed on Eustace
+positively hurt him. She looked so happy, and oh, what awful news
+was there in store for her!
+
+"I may even keep your husband all night," Mr. Orban added. "You
+won't be scared if he doesn't turn up in good time for bed?"
+
+"Not I," said Mrs. Cochrane. "I know my dear belongings are always
+safe with you."
+
+Eustace could have cried at the words. "Safe!" and where was Bob
+whom she pictured so safely at this very minute in the Orbans'
+house? Mr. Orban did not look up as he said,--
+
+"Don't expect Bob either. Eustace will tell you all about what a
+merry household we have suddenly become. We've got a witch into it,
+as Bob calls her. Here comes Cochrane. I hope he won't want an hour
+to say farewell."
+
+"Not I," said Mr. Cochrane bravely. "Orban has made his apologies,
+I suppose?"
+
+He ran up the steps, said good-bye, and in a few minutes the two
+men were gone, leaving Eustace to face a terrible ordeal.
+
+He took his father's suggestion and talked much of Miss Chase. It
+was made easy for him by the kindly curiosity of both Mrs. Cochrane
+and Trixy.
+
+Beatrix was a jolly girl, rather like Bob both in looks and ways.
+She was older for her age than Nesta, perhaps because she had no
+companions of her own standing to keep her back. Eustace and she
+always got on well together, and to-night he was grateful to her
+for being such a chatterbox. The story of Aunt Dorothy's lunatics
+made Mrs. Cochrane and Trix both laugh till the tears ran down
+their cheeks. It was harder to tell them about the evening before,
+for that was all so full of Bob.
+
+It struck Mrs. Cochrane after a time that Eustace looked singularly
+pale, and that the boy was talking rather fast and excitedly,
+unlike his usual self.
+
+"Do you know," she said, "I believe you are very tired, Eustace.
+What do you say to going to bed?"
+
+"Oh, I should love it," he said, with such eagerness that Mrs.
+Cochrane was startled, and eyeing him critically she discovered he
+was now crimson.
+
+"I just hope he has not got a touch of the sun," was her thought.
+
+But she said nothing of her fear.
+
+Eustace was put into Bob's room, and everything he looked at in it
+made him more miserable. But he was thankful to get away by himself
+at last and give up the wretched pretence of good spirits. He felt
+he was getting to the end of his powers, that in another minute the
+truth would tumble out in spite of him. All the time he was talking
+he was also listening--listening--listening for the sound of hoofs
+that never came.
+
+He went on listening long after he got into bed, for he could not
+sleep, he was so certain there must be bad news, as neither Mr.
+Cochrane nor his father returned.
+
+He must have dozed fitfully through the night, but it seemed a
+terribly long one. Every time he opened his eyes he was wide awake
+in a minute to the remembrance of what had happened. When he awoke
+at last to find the sun rising, he could lie still no longer, he
+was haunted by such restless thoughts. He dressed and went
+downstairs into the open air.
+
+"Supposing Bob had gone off the track for some reason, and lost his
+way," ran his thoughts. "Supposing he was wandering about seeking
+it all night up to this very minute! Supposing he had been waylaid
+and surrounded by black-fellows!--Sinkum Fung had declared they
+were camping in the neighbourhood. No, Eustace would not think of
+that--one white man against a tribe of blacks: it was too terrible!
+And yet supposing he had been, and no one found out!" Thoughts are
+sometimes dreadfully uncontrollable things.
+
+"I believe I will go for a ride," he said to himself. "I might just
+go down to the creek--I won't cross it--but just as far as there,
+to see if they are in sight. I can do that easily, and be in to
+breakfast."
+
+He found a man near the stables whom he got to saddle Bolter, then
+off he started down the slope across the river, and away over the
+uninteresting stretch of flatness till he again reached the river
+bank. There he paused, staring towards the mangrove swamp with the
+same chilled feeling he had experienced the day before. It was the
+terrible dread that the depths of the woods might hold something
+ghastly--Bob living, but in awful distress of mind or body; Bob
+dead!
+
+There were no signs of his father or Mr. Cochrane; no sounds but
+those of nature. They certainly could not have found Bob at
+Gairloch. The only alternative seemed the scrub.
+
+Suddenly Eustace threw back his head, and in a shrill treble gave
+vent to a prolonged Australian "coo-ee."
+
+"If he is there," argued the boy, "of course he will answer. How
+silly of me not to think of that before."
+
+He could hardly believe his ears for joy, but there was instantly
+an answer--so faint that he only caught a bit of it; still he heard
+it.
+
+In wild excitement he coo-eed again, his very loudest this time;
+and again came the reply, scarcely more distinct, and more like a
+cry than a coo-ee.
+
+"It comes from the scrub," thought Eustace. "He must be there, but
+awfully far off or ill, for that isn't like his voice. What shall I
+do? I can't go back and fetch any one, because father said I was
+not to tell. I daren't wait till father comes, for fear I lose it.
+It might get fainter and fainter. Oh, I must do something when Bob
+is calling out for help! If I could find him, if--if I could save
+him, it would be splendid!"
+
+Just once again he sent out his piercing coo-ee, and this time the
+answer was distinct enough for him to decide its exact position.
+Without another moment for reflection, he urged Bolter on, waded
+through the river, and dashed helter-skelter towards the wood. He
+thought nothing of the possibility of himself being lost, nothing
+of the danger of meeting black-fellows. He was going to Bob--that
+was the central idea. Bob was in danger and called for help. It was
+the fulfilment of the greatest wish of Eustace's life to serve
+Bob.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+BLACK-FELLOWS.
+
+
+In the exultation of the thought Eustace plunged into the scrub and
+rode on and on unheedingly, lost in dreams of the adventure before
+him. Always he found Bob, always he rescued him, sometimes with the
+most thrilling hair-breadth escapes.
+
+The wood was not dark but densely shady, with black distances. It
+presently began to worry Eustace that it was impossible to keep a
+straight line for the direction whence the answering cry had come;
+it was often necessary to wind in and out of the close-growing tree
+stems to find a passage for himself and Bolter. There was no road,
+path, or even track to follow.
+
+"This will get muddling," he thought, when he had been twisting and
+turning, doubling back on his route, for about half an hour. "I
+guess I ought to have marked the trees with notches as I came
+along. I'll go back and start again."
+
+He pulled Bolter up, sat back on his saddle, and looked round for
+the gleam of light through the trunks of the trees that would guide
+him back to the open; but there was none--nothing but an even
+monotony of dense distance, no matter where he turned.
+
+The boy's heart stood still in the unpleasant shock of surprise.
+Which way had he come? He had not the slightest notion, for each
+way looked so exactly the same as the other. He realized with
+sickening intensity that he had lost his bearings.
+
+"But I must find my way out, of course," he said, addressing
+Bolter's glossy ears. "I'll try each way in turn till I see the
+light. There is nothing to be scared about."
+
+He felt quite angry with himself for his momentary panic; it was
+stupid and babyish. Of course fellows had been lost in the Bush,
+but they couldn't have been such a short way in as he must be by
+now. True, he had heard a story of a chap who had gone round and
+round like a squirrel in a cage not a mile from the outskirts of
+the scrub. He was "bushed," and found dead.
+
+The boy shuddered, then literally shook himself as he urged Bolter
+on again to begin investigations.
+
+"I won't think about it," he said, setting his teeth. "I must get
+out, and begin again; I must."
+
+In and out of the trees he wound, trying his utmost to retrace his
+steps; but he had noticed nothing on the way in, and he had no
+landmarks to guide him. This went on so long that, fight as he
+would with the fear at his heart, it began to master him.
+
+"Seems to me I am always coming back to the place I start from," he
+thought, with a desperate sense of helplessness; "but there isn't a
+bit of difference between these hateful trees. I'll mark one and
+try."
+
+He cut a deep gash in the bark of the nearest to him, and went on.
+But though he watched most carefully, he never came on that tree
+again.
+
+"As I'm not getting out," he reflected, "I must be getting deeper
+and deeper into the scrub. Oh, what shall I do--what shall I do?
+What a silly fool I have been! I might have remembered father's
+warnings. Bob said one ought to learn to think out all sides of a
+question. I didn't; and now if father goes back I shan't be there
+to tell him I heard the coo-ee. Oh dear, oh dear!"
+
+He gave a gasping sigh, almost a sob. To have been so near saving
+Bob, and not to have done it after all--only to die "bushed"! It
+was enough to break a man's nerve, let alone a child's.
+
+He went back in thought to the river bank, picturing how it would
+have been if he had only patiently waited, giving a coo-ee now and
+again to keep in touch with the answerer.
+
+"Why, how silly I am!" he exclaimed. "If I coo-ee now he will
+answer me, and I can follow that."
+
+The thought cheered him instantly, and making a hollow mouthpiece
+with his hands to increase the sound, he gave the loudest coo-ee he
+had ever given in his life.
+
+There was not the faintest response.
+
+Again and again he repeated it, straining his ears to hear if there
+came a reply. More and more agonized grew his cries; so intense his
+silences between that he even stopped his breathing to listen. But
+there was nothing to hear. He got hot and cold by turns; he felt
+sick and queer. It was now hours since his departure from the
+Highlands, and he had had no food since the very poor supper he
+managed to eat the night before. The effort of shouting did not
+improve matters, and he was so hoarse at last he could call no
+more.
+
+Then he completely lost his head, and began riding with desperate
+inconsequence as straight ahead as the trees would allow. Stay
+still he could not; the inaction terrified him. He argued that he
+must get somewhere by going on long enough--somewhere "through to
+the other side," as he expressed it.
+
+"Why doesn't Bob answer?" that was the most troublesome thought.
+"Have I got out of earshot?"
+
+Presently Eustace was beyond thinking; he went on dully because he
+felt he must keep on the move; but hunger, exhaustion, and the heat
+of the now well-advanced day were beginning to tell on him. The
+apathy threatened to become so settled that it was a mercy when
+Bolter presently stumbled so badly that Eustace had to rouse
+himself to hold on. Then it was that he noticed straight before him
+at last a wide gleam of light amongst the stems of the trees.
+
+The sight put such life and spirit into him that he whipped up the
+now drooping Bolter, who also had just cause to reflect on no
+breakfast and general ill-usage, and they covered the ground as
+fast as possible, considering how unequal it was, how thick the
+undergrowth in parts.
+
+A disappointment and a great surprise awaited the pair when they
+emerged into this open space--it was nothing but a clearing in the
+wood after all, dotted about with queer-shaped huts scarcely as
+tall as a man, and all made of pliable branches of trees
+interwoven with grass for walls.
+
+Eustace pulled up short in breathless dismay, for a few paces away
+there arose from among these untidy "humpies" some twenty
+natives--erect, alert, all with poised boomerangs or spears ready
+to fling. It was a sinister reception for one small boy on a spent
+horse. Of course the keen-eared black-fellows had heard him coming
+from miles away, and were ready.
+
+It was small wonder, considering his condition, that after one
+wild, appealing glance at the line of fierce, dark faces Eustace
+fell forward on Bolter's neck in a dead faint. He did not see the
+weapons lowered, or the gleam of something like grim amusement on
+the chief's face as he realized for what it was they had been so
+elaborately prepared.
+
+Out of the huts crept stealthy figures of women and children. When
+Eustace opened his eyes he found himself lying flat on his back
+with these people crowding inquisitively around. He looked up into
+their repulsively heavy faces with a horror of realization. For
+some moments he was too paralyzed to stir. No more awful fate could
+have befallen him than this--it was the sort of thing that might
+come to one in a nightmare. But he knew it was no dream. There
+stood Bolter a few paces away, grazing thankfully, and in no way
+perturbed.
+
+The harsh guttural language these people spoke was unintelligible
+to the boy, but he could guess they were intensely curious about
+him from the way they pointed and stared. It seemed to him that
+some of them could never have seen a white child before, they were
+so excited, especially the children, who looked half terrified.
+Were they cannibals these people? he wondered, with a sinking
+heart.
+
+He forced himself to his feet, and stood shaking a second, then
+dropped on his knees. The performance seemed to amuse the gaping
+group--the younger men and women laughed, the children clapped
+their hands.
+
+Eustace was wondering drearily how long they would stand staring at
+him, when the chief strode up to him and said something with many
+gesticulations; but not a thing could the boy understand.
+
+The chief was much more decorated than any one else--covered from
+head to heels with stripes and devices in white, blue, and red
+paint. There were feathers in his crisp dark hair, and slung over
+his shoulder a strange shaped club.
+
+Eustace proceeded, by means of much waving, pointing, and the
+patter talked on the plantation by the coolies, to try and explain
+how he had come there, and how very much he only wanted to get away
+and find the way home. But it was useless--the men shook their
+heads and looked perplexed.
+
+Seeing that no one seemed inclined to molest him, but that every
+one merely watched him as if he were a monkey in a cage at the Zoo,
+he resolved on a desperate step. With a supreme effort he stood
+again, staggered over to Bolter, and attempted to mount.
+
+But this was not allowed. With two strides the chief was upon him,
+flinging him back on the ground as a big boy might fling a kitten
+from him. Then the great man plainly intimated that this creature
+he considered his; no one should touch it. Eustace was not to dare
+to approach it. The chief's attitude was menacing; it was well to
+be seen he felt he had acquired a prize.
+
+"But what is going to happen to me?" thought Eustace, quaking with
+fear. "What will they do with me?"
+
+No one seemed to have any intention of doing anything with him at
+the moment; he was only stared at. The men, for the most part, were
+now more interested in Bolter, particularly his saddle and bridle.
+Little by little the women dropped off, as if they had work to
+attend to, and a smell of cooking arose that made the boy sick with
+longing as he sat huddled up and half silly with starvation and
+fatigue. The apathy that had been upon him before he was cheered by
+the gleam of light crept over him again; fear faded from his mind;
+nothing seemed to matter any more.
+
+He sat so still that presently the children crept closer, and began
+to finger his clothes, as if they puzzled them. What drew them away
+from him he did not realize till something was thrust under his
+very nose, and the smell told him it was food.
+
+He had just enough sense left to try and eat; but before he had
+swallowed five mouthfuls he rolled over and fell sound asleep.
+Nothing could have kept him awake--neither a thunderstorm nor an
+earthquake.
+
+When he awoke again to a consciousness of his surroundings the sun
+was rising. He had come through the night in safety--that was his
+first thought; and it both surprised and encouraged him. Surely, he
+argued, if they wanted to kill him he would not have been spared so
+long.
+
+The scarcely-touched food was still beside him. Refreshed by the
+much-needed sleep, he was able to eat it now, and began to feel
+more like himself again, though stiff and still weary. He was
+sufficiently rested for his brain to be active once more, and his
+whole thoughts were bent upon what was to become of him next.
+
+Bolter was tethered at the other side of the open space, well
+guarded, as if the chief thought he might try to inveigle the horse
+away by some magic means, then mount and ride off. It was very
+evident that if he meant to get away it would have to be on
+foot--the chief would not part with Bolter. The question was: Did
+they mean to detain Eustace as prisoner? At present, except that
+they stared inquisitively at him, every one seemed fairly
+indifferent to his presence. However, he decided that it would be
+foolish to put the matter to the test in broad daylight; he must
+wait till nightfall, and under cover of the intense darkness make
+his escape. He set himself to wait as patiently as he could,
+pretending to be as drowsy and inert as a well-fed snake; but his
+mind was very active. He had never thought so many thoughts in all
+his life before. What, he wondered, could Mrs. Cochrane have
+thought of his disappearance? Had his father returned to the
+Highlands and discovered it? Were they keeping his loss from his
+mother as they had kept Bob's from Mrs. Cochrane? Was it possible
+Bob had got safe and sound home again? And oh! were they looking
+for him?
+
+There came an answer both to this and to the question as to the
+black-fellows' intentions respecting him that very morning.
+
+Eustace had been furtively watching the dark figures moving to and
+fro. Apparently some of the men went off to hunt. Except when they
+were preparing food, the women seemed to do nothing. The children
+squabbled and tumbled about, or slept like tired brown kittens in
+casual places. There was a great hush over everything, when
+suddenly across the silence came a sound that set every pulse in
+the boy's body astir, so that the beating of his heart almost
+choked him. It was a distant but long, clear coo-ee.
+
+Wild with joy Eustace sprang to his feet, but before he could make
+a sound he found himself surrounded by a dozen menacing figures,
+clubs in hand, ready to fell him if he dared to reply.
+
+Some of the tribes are very secretive and stealthy in their
+movements. It was well to be seen that this one did not wish to
+have its camping ground divulged.
+
+With a thrill of horror Eustace understood that he was powerless.
+To cry out would mean certain death. It might be their intention to
+kill him at any rate, but in the postponement lay a chance of
+escape. He must meet stealth by stealth.
+
+Again the coo-ee cut through the air, but Eustace covered his face
+with his hands and dropped dejectedly back on the ground.
+
+It was a bitter moment. Could anything have been worse than to know
+help was at hand, and to be unable to take it?
+
+That a search-party was now out he felt certain; it was probably
+his father's voice, and he dared not answer. He had the sense to
+see how useless it would be to give one cry, and die for it. But
+oh! it was hard--cruelly hard.
+
+It seemed to him those coo-ees went on for hours, each with a long
+listening pause after it, sometimes nearer, gradually fading away
+and away till they were no louder than the answer he had received
+on the banks of the creek.
+
+In addition to the keenness of the disappointment and the terror
+that he was losing his last chance of ever getting home again came
+the speculation as to what these wild-faced people meant to do with
+him, and there leaped to his mind a new and very terrible question.
+Was it possible that Bob had come this way? Had they met him with
+spears and boomerangs, and dispatched him before he had time to
+whip out his revolver? But no. There was still that answering
+coo-ee to be accounted for. Perhaps they had only bound him and
+made him prisoner till then, undecided what to do with him. It was
+possible that on hearing Eustace's coo-ee he had dared the blacks,
+and attempted those three faint answers. If so, they had cost him
+his life, and the ultimate silence was explained.
+
+Eustace lay shuddering over the thought. He could only keep his
+teeth from chattering by holding his jaw tightly in both hands.
+
+How long he lay lost in those miserable thoughts he did not know.
+He was roused from his lethargy by a soft kick, and, starting up,
+he found the woman who fed him the day before beside him offering
+him food again. She seemed to treat him as if he were a white pig
+that had strayed amongst them. He was probably a less intelligible
+creature in her eyes, but she knew that he must at least eat to
+live.
+
+It was a messy preparation, but he managed to eat some; and all the
+driest portions of it he could extract unnoticed he slipped into
+his pockets, laying in provision for possible starvation next day.
+Then he lay down again and feigned sleep.
+
+He looked through half-closed lids with longing eyes at the
+peaceful Bolter. Eustace wondered whether he too had heard those
+tantalizing coo-ees and ached to respond. What would be poor
+Bolter's fate here? The blacks make the women of the tribes into
+their beasts of burden when shifting camp; they do not habitually
+use horses. The chief was perhaps only keeping Bolter as a valuable
+addition to the larder when provisions ran short.
+
+Every thought that came to the boy was horrid. He wished he did not
+have to think, and as dusk fell set his mind to the task of keeping
+awake after his captors had settled down for the night. It would be
+fatal to sleep as he had done the night before.
+
+The chief had been away all day, and was not yet come back. It was
+possible judgment on the prisoner was suspended till his return.
+When the great man heard of the coo-ees and Eustace's attempt to
+answer, probably the boy's fate would be sealed. Escape must be now
+or never.
+
+Eustace made up his mind that he would start off in the direction
+whence the coo-ees had come. It was the only guide he had, and a
+very poor one, as had already been proved by the first cry he had
+so unfortunately tried to follow.
+
+He waited just as long as he could bear, after silence fell on the
+camp. There was no question of taking Bolter. He was guarded as on
+the night before; besides, he would have made too much noise.
+Eustace dared not get up and walk himself, or even crawl. He had
+invented a silent, gliding movement as he lay scheming--by means of
+strong tufts of grass he meant to gradually pull his body,
+snakewise, little by little away from the open into the wood.
+
+As soon as he dared he began his weird progress, quaking at every
+sound he made lest it should rouse those keen-eared sleepers so
+close around him. The soft "frou-frou" of the dry grass beneath him
+sounded to his excited fancy like the sudden rushing of a torrent.
+He was almost overwhelmed by the fear of pulling himself
+inadvertently up against one of those dark forms, for he did not
+know where every one was lying. One false move now, and it would
+mean the end of all things for him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE SECRET OF THE THICKET.
+
+
+The night was close and still with the silence that intensifies
+sound tenfold. Eustace thought he could not have had worse luck.
+His temptation was to hurry; common sense bade him hold himself in
+check. Panic urged him to risk everything, and make a bolt for it.
+But Bob's precept was ringing in his mind--there were two sides to
+the question; he might bolt, but where to in the dark? It was
+useless to dash headlong into trees and make for nowhere in
+particular. The plan was to get as far away as possible in the
+dark, unheard, so that by daylight he would be out of sight, and
+able to quicken his pace to some purpose.
+
+Gliding, halting, scarcely breathing, he pulled himself along, and
+great beads of perspiration started on his forehead and trickled
+down into his eyes.
+
+The darkness was useful in one way, but it had its disadvantages.
+He had no idea what progress he was making, and it seemed ages
+before his hand came against what he thankfully realized was the
+bark of a tree. Almost simultaneously there was a blinding flash of
+lightning, so vivid that for a full moment the sleeping camp lay
+revealed, and Eustace had time to grasp the fact that he was well
+within the outskirts of the wood. The crash of thunder almost
+overhead brought him to his feet. Now was the time to make some
+pace, in the dense darkness, under cover of that merciful noise.
+Eustace was not the least afraid of thunder and lightning; he was
+used to tremendous storms, and loved nothing better than to stand
+out on the veranda to watch one raging round among the hills or out
+at sea. Now it was a positive blessing. Every flash showed him
+where he was, and he took care to have a tree trunk between himself
+and the camp. Then during the thunder bursts he made his way
+swiftly forward, groping cautiously like a blind man. His spirits
+rose with the excitement, and all his courage came back to him.
+
+By the time the storm had grumbled itself away into the distance he
+knew he was well out of sight of the camp, and he dared to sit down
+to wait for dawn. Without the aid of the lightning it was folly to
+plunge farther into the scrub.
+
+In spite of a stern resolve not even to let himself doze, the tired
+boy must have slept awhile, sitting with his back against a tree.
+There was just a first glimmer of light penetrating the thick
+foliage above when he opened his eyes with a sudden definite
+feeling of something having roused him.
+
+Very much on the alert, instantly he raised his head, and sat
+listening with held breath. He was beginning to think he must have
+been mistaken, when there came a sound that made his hair stand on
+end and his blood run cold. He got up swiftly but softly, and
+stood, still backed by the tree, staring into the gloom. The sound
+seemed to come from what looked like a dense thicket not very far
+to the right, but as yet it was not light enough to distinguish
+objects from each other.
+
+"Is it some animal, or a native, or what can it be?" Eustace
+questioned, feeling most horribly shaky.
+
+There was a long pause, and then the silence was once more broken
+by a deep, heavy groan--something like a long sobbing sigh.
+
+The boy was paralyzed with horror. Besides which, to have moved, to
+have gone forward, would have been useless in this half light. He
+could have done nothing, seen nothing. There was nothing for it but
+to wait till daybreak. He could not bring himself to sit down
+again; there is always a feeling of being ready for anything when
+one is standing.
+
+There was another long interval, and then this awful sound came
+once more--slow, laboured, intensely painful. There could be no
+doubt that something or some one was suffering inexpressibly not
+twenty yards away. The voice was like the voice of a man having a
+nightmare, and trying to call some one to help him. The third time
+the sound came Eustace almost fancied it contained a word--"Help."
+
+Five times he heard it, and every time it was exactly the same in
+tone and duration. Each time he became more persuaded that it was a
+muffled cry for help.
+
+The light was coming at last. Soon he would be able to venture
+forward and find out what horrible secret the thicket held.
+
+The boy sank down on his knees and prayed with all his might for
+strength to face whatever it might be for at the thought of the
+ordeal before him he could have turned and fled. He stood up again
+as white as a sheet, but resolute, and ashamed of the temptation.
+
+"Who is there?" he demanded in a hoarse, shaky voice unlike his
+own.
+
+His throat was parched, his lips dry. He had not spoken a word for
+two nights and a day; it was scarcely wonderful speech was
+difficult.
+
+There was no answer for a full minute, and then came that same
+groaning cry again, not as in answer to the question, but at its
+own regular interval.
+
+Following the curve of the thicket a little way, behind a thick
+group of trees Eustace came to a sudden standstill with a cry of
+dismay; for there, standing almost upright in the thickest of the
+scrub, was the figure of a man, his bare head bowed down upon his
+breast so that his face was invisible, his arms hanging down at his
+sides.
+
+It struck Eustace at once as strange that he should be standing
+making this terrible sound. It would not have surprised the boy
+nearly so much to have found him lying down--indeed, that he had
+expected. Bracing himself to the task, Eustace went closer.
+
+"I say," he said in a loud voice, "what's up?"
+
+The man made neither sign nor movement. Could he be tied there to a
+stake? the boy wondered. Was he deaf and blind?
+
+"I say," Eustace said, almost shouting now, "can't you see me?"
+
+Fighting down his own horror of the situation, he pressed a little
+closer, to find the man's shirt torn to shreds, his arms pinioned
+down to his sides by something that looked like small cords.
+
+"It's the 'wait-a-bit' cane!" Eustace exclaimed aloud, shrinking
+back sharply with a quick horror of being entrapped by it himself.
+
+Here was an awful state of affairs. A wretched wayfarer caught and
+held like a fly in a spider's web, and not a soul at hand to help.
+
+To go back to the natives was out of the question. With their
+reputation for cruelty and hatred of white men it would be worse
+than useless to appeal to them. What was to be done? What would Bob
+have done under the circumstances?
+
+With a gasping cry Eustace crept closer again, and bending low he
+strained to catch a glimpse of the man's face without going too
+perilously deep into the thicket.
+
+"Bob," whispered the boy, "Bob, is it you? Oh, speak to me--is it
+you?"
+
+Little fool that he had been not to think of it before. But somehow
+these last hours of terror, centred only upon himself and his own
+means of escape, had blunted his intelligence to everything
+else--even to the remembrance of Bob. He was mad with himself for
+it now--so mad that all thought of personal danger fell away from
+him. He had room for nothing but the realization that this must be
+Bob indeed standing here helpless and dying of privation.
+
+Oh the folly of having waited for the light! But Eustace stayed for
+nothing more now--not even to look at the two sides of the
+question. He dashed against the bushes like a little mad thing,
+recklessly fighting his way towards the imprisoned man.
+
+"Bob, Bob!" he said in a voice choked with sobs.
+
+It was difficult to grasp that this huddled, helpless figure was
+Bob, the big, the strong. But when at last Eustace saw the white,
+drawn face he knew there was no mistake about it.
+
+There came that awful groan again, but this time Eustace did not
+shrink back.
+
+"It's all right, Bob," he said huskily. "I've come now. I'm going
+to help you all I can. You shan't die--you shan't--you shan't."
+
+He spoke the last words through set teeth, for he had taken out his
+clasp-knife, and was hacking at the cruel bonds with all his might.
+
+It needed no explanation to tell Eustace how Bob had got there. The
+thing was as plain as daylight. He must have been riding fast, and
+inadvertently struck against some "wait-a-bit," which rebounded
+like a bit of twisted elastic, and caught him in such a grip that
+he was powerless to free himself. Bolter passed on from beneath,
+and the more he fought and struggled the tighter he became
+entangled. Had his arms been free it would have been different; but
+the strength of the cane was marvellous--moreover, it was covered
+with vicious thorns. That Bob had fought desperately for his life
+was to be seen by the condition of his shirt and his deeply-scored
+skin. He was now in a state of more than semi-unconsciousness from
+exhaustion and starvation; still, at intervals, he half roused
+himself to call for help, as he must have been doing for days.
+
+It was no easy matter to saw through the cane, which was wound
+again and again round him. But bit by bit Eustace worked at it,
+with a ferocity that was bound to tell. He was mad with fear for
+Bob, and madness is said to increase strength extraordinarily.
+
+More by good luck than good guidance the boy was not caught in the
+meshes himself, for he took no care.
+
+As the last coils were cut, and Bob was bereft of his main support,
+he fell gradually to the ground, lying in the pathway Eustace had
+made to reach him, and from there the boy could not move him an
+inch. Perhaps owing to the change of position Bob had stopped
+groaning at last; but though Eustace called him, and implored him
+to speak, if only a word, he made no sign.
+
+"I suppose it is faintness," Eustace thought in deep trouble, for
+this was something so terribly new in Bob. He did not seem the sort
+of fellow who could ever be ill.
+
+Something ought to be done for him, and that quickly; this much
+Eustace knew. At home he would have rushed for water; but here
+where there was none--where there was nothing--what was he to do?
+If only he were a man, and carried a brandy flask, as his father
+always did! A sudden brilliant idea struck him--perhaps Bob carried
+a flask himself!
+
+It was the work of but a few seconds to search him, and to the
+boy's joy he found a little flask full of spirit. It was not very
+long since Eustace had had a practical demonstration of what to do
+with some one in a faint. He remembered Mrs. Robertson's treatment
+of his mother the night of their fright about Becky.
+
+So first he moistened the dry blue lips, then put a few drops
+between them. Oh, it was a tedious, terrifying business--too long
+to describe; and nothing scared Eustace more than the choking and
+gasping with which Bob came to himself at last. But it was the
+turning-point and saving of his life.
+
+It took Bob a long time to pull himself sufficiently together to
+make a sign to Eustace that he knew him. He was far too weak to
+speak at first; but after a long, dazed study of the boy's white,
+miserable face, Bob's lips parted in a pitiful attempt at a smile.
+
+To his own after-annoyance and shame, whenever he remembered it,
+Eustace flung himself face downwards on the ground and fairly
+sobbed. What fear for his own safety and all the horrors he had
+gone through had no power to do, the relaxation of this tension of
+anxiety about Bob did.
+
+"Say, old chap," came in a far-away whisper to his ears, "don't!"
+
+It pulled him up short. Bob's eyes were closed, and he looked so
+like fainting again that Eustace gave him more brandy.
+
+It had a good effect; but later, not even when he had regained his
+full consciousness, could Bob move hand or foot; he was as stiff as
+a log. Just as he had been bound rigidly upright, so he remained
+now lying at full length.
+
+"Guess I'm pretty helpless," he said in a thin, weak voice. "I
+shall have to be oiled before I can move." Then, after a little
+while, when he had been lying staring at his companion meditatively
+some minutes, he said, "Just explain what you are doing here, will
+you?"
+
+From the very beginning--the return of Bolter--Eustace told the
+story of the last few days, and Bob listened with growing eagerness
+in his eyes.
+
+"So you lost yourself finding me," he said at the end. "And there
+isn't a doubt you've saved my life, old boy."
+
+But even this assertion did not cheer Eustace.
+
+"I'm afraid I haven't, though," he said miserably, "because you see
+we are lost."
+
+"Not a bit of it," Bob said. "If I had any legs I could walk you
+out of the wood in two hours. I know the way perfectly."
+
+"Do you?" Eustace exclaimed. "Then what did you come here for?"
+
+"Merely to see if it was true there were any natives in the
+neighbourhood," was the answer. "I never got as far as the camp,
+but my shouts brought a whole lot of them gibbering round me. It
+seemed to amuse them to see me there; but they threatened to kill
+me if I went on shouting, so I had to shut up and hope for the
+best. They have come each day in little batches and watched me
+awhile, then slipped away. At last I began to feel so bad that I
+rather wished they would come and finish me off, to put me out of
+my misery; so I began calling again. But I suppose my voice was too
+weak to matter; they knew I couldn't be heard. Anyhow, the beggars
+didn't touch me. I dare say they'll come again to-day."
+
+Eustace looked scared.
+
+"Oh, I say," he exclaimed, "I hope they won't. They'll take us
+prisoners, and goodness knows what they'll do to us. We must get
+away from here before they come."
+
+"You must," said Bob, "but I can't. You'll have to take my compass,
+and keep going due west with it all the time. You'll know where you
+are the minute you get out into the open."
+
+Eustace stared at him blankly.
+
+"But I couldn't go and leave you," he exclaimed.
+
+"Why not?" asked Bob with a smile.
+
+"How could I," Eustace said warmly, "and you in danger? I just
+won't go. Nothing shall make me."
+
+There was a curious light in Bob's eyes as they rested on the slip
+of a lad kneeling beside him.
+
+"Good old man," he said, "you can't do me any good by staying. For
+both our sakes you must go, and as fast as you can."
+
+"But suppose while I am away--" began Eustace desperately.
+
+"We've got to chance that," said Bob bravely. "You couldn't save my
+life if you stayed; you could only die too, and what would be the
+good of that?"
+
+"I would rather," said Eustace chokily.
+
+"Well, I wouldn't," Bob said firmly. "We mustn't think about
+ourselves in it at all. You've got to go home and set the dear
+home-folks' minds at rest about us. They'll know no peace till they
+hear, one way or another. Then, of course, they'll set out to fetch
+me. You'll guide them. If I am here, well and good. If I am not,
+don't you forget I wouldn't let you stay. You did the only thing
+you could for me by obeying orders."
+
+Eustace hid his face in his hands because his lips were trembling
+so; he felt sick, and shaky all over.
+
+"O Bob," he said, "must I?"
+
+"For my sake, laddie," said Bob softly.
+
+Eustace stood up, but kept his head turned away that Bob should
+still not see his face.
+
+"I do wish," said Bob lightly, "that you could give me a nice slice
+of beef before you go; I'm so hungry."
+
+It was a little bit of chaff to help the boy to pull himself
+together. It worked quite a miracle, for Eustace's face cleared
+instantly.
+
+"Why, how stupid of me!" he said. "I can give you something to eat.
+It was what I couldn't finish of my own."
+
+Out of his pockets he pulled the unappetizing lumps of food he had
+secreted, and kneeling again, he began feeding the helpless man as
+if he had been a baby.
+
+"Upon my word, you are a magician," said Bob, keeping up a cheery
+tone, although he could little more than whisper. "But eat some
+yourself; turn and turn about."
+
+"I don't want any," said the boy.
+
+"Obey," said Bob briskly, with his kind smile.
+
+So they made their strange meal together. It was a small one, but
+quite enough for Bob after his long starvation.
+
+"I ate every leaf and berry within my reach," he told Eustace, "or
+I don't think I should be alive to tell the tale. Lucky for me,
+they were none of them poisonous. When they were done I started on
+chewing twigs, but they didn't go far."
+
+At last Eustace had no excuse to linger. Very unwillingly he rose
+to do Bob's behest. He had never heard of anything so awful as
+leaving him like this to his fate. It seemed the worst kind of
+desertion--something that he would be ashamed of all the days of
+his life.
+
+Bob made him take his watch and chain with the compass on it.
+
+"Keep the compass afterwards if you like," Bob said, "and give my
+love to every one."
+
+Eustace turned sharply away; he could stand no more.
+
+"Good-bye," he said thickly; "I feel a beast."
+
+He took two quick strides forward, and walked right into some one.
+It was the great native chief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+A GREAT SURPRISE.
+
+
+Eustace thought he had never seen anything so wicked as the
+chief's grin when he looked down into his astonished face. The
+black-fellow's teeth gleamed like a wolf's. His whole expression
+seemed to say, "Ha, ha! so I've caught you in the very act. You
+don't escape me so easily, you see." He evidently felt an exultant
+satisfaction in frustrating his departure, or he was rejoicing over
+having found him again.
+
+With an overwhelming consciousness of Bob's helplessness, Eustace
+moved back quickly to the prostrate figure, as if to shelter it.
+
+"What's up, old man?" questioned Bob, who from his position could
+see nothing. "You're not shirking, are you?"
+
+The chief came rapidly within range of the sick man's eyes, and
+Bob's face fell most unmistakably. There was disappointment in
+every line of it.
+
+"Phew!" he whistled, "we've lost our chance this time."
+
+Exactly how crestfallen the pair was it would be impossible to
+describe. Not that Bob had harboured any hope for himself. He knew
+the natives would come to him before Eustace could possibly get
+back with assistance, and finding him no longer an amusing
+spectacle, would probably dispatch him. But he had been bent on
+saving the boy's life and sending his message home.
+
+The native chief said something in his rapid, unintelligible
+language, then turned, made a strange call, and began gesticulating
+violently.
+
+Eustace dropped on his knees and hid his face on Bob's tattered
+shirt.
+
+"Buck up, old chap," Bob said softly; "one can only die once. Let's
+show these black-fellows how a Christian and an Englishman can do
+it. You'll get the strength right enough; I'm not a bit afraid of
+your funking."
+
+There was an advancing tramp, a crashing of branches: the chief's
+summons was being rapidly obeyed. With a long shuddering sigh
+Eustace raised himself and knelt upright, gazing down on his hero.
+
+"That's right," said Bob steadily, with his own genial smile
+lighting up his whole face, "keep your eyes on mine; hold on to me
+if you like. I shan't think you a muff, because I know you aren't
+one."
+
+But the boy did not touch him; he kept his hands clasped tightly
+together in a supreme effort to be worthy of Bob's belief in him.
+He heard the new-comers halt. The native spoke and moved aside.
+Then--
+
+"Both of them!" exclaimed a familiar voice. "Thank God for that."
+
+Eustace sank back in a heap on the ground and stared up.
+
+"Father!" cried Bob in astonishment.
+
+It was Mr. Cochrane indeed, and with him Mr. Orban--as haggard a
+pair as could be met with in a long day's march.
+
+It seemed little short of a miracle that they should appear at such
+a juncture, yet the explanation proved simple enough. The native
+chief had fetched them straight to the spot. There was no sort of
+nobility in the act: the man knew enough of white men's ways to
+expect a big reward. Bob he did not know; but when Eustace appeared
+on the scene he recognized the boy as belonging to the master of
+the neighbouring plantation, whom he had seen many times from a
+distance as he rode through the Bush. Mr. Orban was out with Mr.
+Cochrane making a frantic search of the entire neighbourhood when
+the chief arrived, and he would communicate his business to no one
+else. Not that it is likely any one else would have understood him
+or followed him as Mr. Orban did the moment he arrived home. The
+language was unintelligible to both men; but putting two and two
+together in their great anxiety, they made out that the chief could
+lead them where they would find something of interest to
+themselves. They had not dared to hope he knew the whereabouts of
+both their sons, or to speculate which they should find; they did
+not even know whether they were being taken to the living or the
+dead.
+
+"I'm afraid you'll have a bit of bother getting me home," said Bob;
+"I'm as stiff as a board, and can't move hand or foot."
+
+Then he told his story, and how Eustace had found him, and to all
+intents and purposes saved his life.
+
+"And you, Eustace," said Mr. Orban--"how did you come here?"
+
+When Eustace came to the description of the answering coo-ee on the
+banks of the creek, Mr. Orban interrupted him.
+
+"That was only an echo. I knew there was one there, but I never
+thought of telling you."
+
+"Thank God you didn't," said Mr. Cochrane, "and that he made the
+mistake. We should never have found Bob but for that."
+
+"Father," Eustace said anxiously, "you won't forget poor old
+Bolter, will you? This black-fellow has got him in the camp over
+there."
+
+"I had quite forgotten him," Mr. Orban said; "and we shall need him
+too."
+
+Their own horses were quietly waiting a little distance back. By
+means of much gesticulation--pointing towards the horses, and then
+in the direction of the camp--the chief was made to understand what
+was wanted; and after a little demur he went away to fetch Bolter,
+but certainly most grudgingly.
+
+The journey back to the plantation was one that none of the party
+could ever forget. The difficulty of conveying the helpless Bob,
+the suffering he so bravely tried to endure, and the terrible time
+it took, were indescribable.
+
+It had of course been necessary to tell both mothers of the loss of
+their sons. Mrs. Cochrane and Trixy had gone immediately to the
+Orbans' house as more central for obtaining news.
+
+Mr. Orban dispatched one coolie from the plantation for the doctor,
+who lived fifteen miles away. Another man he sent up the hill as
+fast as he could go with a note preparing his wife for their
+arrival, and the whole white-faced party was out waiting for it as
+the slow procession--Bob on a stretcher in the midst--wound its way
+to the house.
+
+The joy of the meeting was lost sight of in the anxiety, for Bob
+was by this time delirious with pain, Eustace so weak that he was
+nearly fainting.
+
+For the next ten days the house was no better than a hospital--its
+central interest the condition of the two patients within its
+walls; but the first day Bob and Eustace were brought out on to the
+veranda--two white-faced shadows of themselves--Bob laughingly
+called it the convalescent home.
+
+Up to that point everything was, as Nesta expressed it, horrid; but
+when Bob was about again, even if his voice was weaker, his laugh a
+ghost of itself, matters at once began to improve.
+
+They were all sitting together enjoying the cool of the evening.
+
+"What I can't understand," said Nesta meditatively, breaking a long
+pause, "is why the black-fellows wouldn't let Eustace answer
+father's coo-ee."
+
+"It is quite simple," said Mr. Orban. "The chief had evidently
+given strict orders he was not to be allowed to go in his absence,
+and they were afraid we should come and take him away. Then the
+chief would have got no reward."
+
+"What I can't understand," said Peter, who never remained long in
+the background, "is why the black-fellows didn't cut Bob down. It
+was wicked of them."
+
+"That's what I think," said Nesta. "If they left him because they
+thought it funny, I wish they could be tortured."
+
+"Nesta, Nesta, my darling!" said Mrs. Orban warningly.
+
+"I suppose," said Miss Chase softly, "the poor things have no
+knowledge of mercy."
+
+"None," said Mr. Cochrane, who was over spending the evening; "and
+they wouldn't understand it if you showed them any, either."
+
+"No heathens ever do," said Mrs. Orban, "and how should they? They
+have no Great Example to follow as we have. It is the people who
+have the chance of knowing better, and still are cruel and
+heartless, that I would have tortured--if any one."
+
+Mr. Orban gave a soft laugh.
+
+"If any one, indeed, wife," he said. "You know as well as I do that
+you wouldn't have a spider hurt for torturing a fly."
+
+Every one laughed with him except Mrs. Orban herself. Her tender
+heart was as good as a fable in the household. But she said quite
+gravely,--
+
+"You have chosen a bad example for once, Jack. A spider is as
+ignorant as a heathen. It has only its own nature to follow."
+
+"Got the worst of it there, Mr. Orban," said Bob in an amused tone.
+
+"Talking of cruelty," remarked Miss Chase, "what do you do to your
+unfortunate cows here at night? I never heard such a dismal noise
+as they make."
+
+"Cows!" exclaimed every one in astonishment.
+
+"Yes, cows," was the answer. "If you listen you can hear them now."
+
+There was an instant hush, followed by renewed peals of laughter.
+
+"Those aren't cows I advise you to go and sympathize with, Miss
+Chase," said Bob. "We call them alligators hereabouts, and at the
+present minute they are lying on the banks of the creek wishing a
+nice, tasty supper would come strolling along."
+
+"There are alligators in the river, and yet Nesta says you boat on
+it and bathe in it!" exclaimed Miss Chase. "What extraordinary
+people you are!"
+
+"There are alligators one side of the bar and sharks the other, and
+one often upsets going over it in rough weather," said Bob
+cheerfully.
+
+"How horrible!" said Miss Chase.
+
+"When Aunt Dorothy saw a tarantula strolling round the table
+towards her the other day she nearly had a fit," said Peter.
+
+"Don't tell tales out of school, Peter Perky," said Aunt Dorothy.
+"A poor, ignorant Englishwoman isn't expected to be brave when she
+sees a spider as big as a penny bun, with furry legs in proportion,
+trying to sit on her knee."
+
+"Then, so far, Miss Chase," said Bob, with a twinkle in his eyes,
+"you are not infatuated with our Bush life?"
+
+"Have you and Eustace given me much chance to be?" she asked. "You
+must confess you did not give me a very good first impression by
+both running away and losing yourselves. We don't think that sort
+of thing necessary for the entertainment of our friends in England.
+Spiders are spiders there, too, not animated penny buns, and our
+cows don't want to eat us."
+
+"Oh, of course," said Bob, "everything is perfect in England--isn't
+it, Nesta?"
+
+"It has some advantages," said Mrs. Orban. "I think the absence of
+these excitements is amongst them."
+
+She was looking very worn out after her recent experiences.
+
+"Well, it's my opinion, my dear," said Mr. Orban, "that with your
+little family you would have excitements wherever you went. It has
+seemed fated to give you one shock after another."
+
+"Only just lately, Jack," was the gentle response, for Mrs. Orban
+caught a contrite expression in Eustace's eyes.
+
+"It was the coming of the witch that did it," said Bob. "As soon as
+she started for Queensland queer things began happening over here.
+She wanted to make you out of conceit with life here, so that she
+could more easily bewitch you over to England. That was her spell."
+
+"And the queer thing is," said Mr. Orban quite gravely, "that it
+has acted. She is going to take them all away from me when she
+goes--wife, and sons, and daughters."
+
+"Father," exclaimed Nesta, "what are you saying?"
+
+"Is it a story, daddy?" demanded Peter.
+
+"No, the solemn truth," said Mr. Orban.
+
+"I don't understand," said Eustace blankly.
+
+"How should you when so much nonsense is being talked?" said his
+mother. "But the fact is, father thinks a change of air would do us
+all a great deal of good; and as grannie wants us, and has sent us
+our passage money--"
+
+"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Nesta, "don't go on, mummie. You make it sound
+just as if it were real, and it _will_ be so disappointing to have
+to _un_-fancy it again."
+
+But Eustace said breathlessly,--
+
+"Mother, _is_ it true?"
+
+"Quite true," was the grave answer. "We sail the end of next month.
+It is all settled."
+
+"What did I say?" said Bob in mock despair. "She'll take you away,
+and you'll never come back any more."
+
+"Oh, there you are quite wrong, Bob," said Mrs. Orban. "If Dorothy
+is a witch, Jack is a wizard, and he will magic us all back again
+in a year and a day at latest."
+
+"Well, I simply can't believe it," said Nesta.
+
+"It's the queerest thing I have ever heard," said Eustace.
+
+But Peter set up such yells of delight he had to be repressed by
+the early-to-bed threat--always a useful one when Peter became
+rampageous, for he hated going to bed at any time.
+
+That evening no one could talk of anything but this trip to
+England. No matter what subject was started, everything harked back
+to this wonderful plan, which Mr. Orban had been thinking out for
+some time, only confiding in his wife and Miss Chase as long as the
+matter was undecided. Bob kept up the appearance of being utterly
+woebegone, and Nesta and Peter seemed to have turned into machines
+for asking questions.
+
+Of the party only Eustace was silent, and presently Nesta noticed
+the fact.
+
+"Aren't you most awfully glad?" she asked.
+
+"I don't know," said Eustace slowly.
+
+"Goodness!" said Nesta in a bustling tone, "you've always said you
+wanted to go."
+
+"That was when I knew we couldn't," replied Eustace, scarcely
+thinking what he was saying.
+
+"What a funny thing to say," said Nesta. "But you _do_ still want
+to go, don't you?"
+
+"I don't know," said Eustace.
+
+"Well, you are a queer boy," said Nesta in rather a disgusted tone.
+"I call that silly."
+
+"I think I know just what Eustace means," said Miss Chase quietly.
+"He wants to get there without going--to be there without leaving
+home. It is how I felt about coming here."
+
+"I don't understand a bit," said Nesta, with a shake of her head.
+
+"I do," said Bob. "One knows what one is leaving, but one doesn't
+know what one is going to. It is a toss-up whether there is to be
+any happiness in the venture. But I prophesy the witch will see to
+it you don't want to come back in a hurry. You'll enjoy yourself no
+end."
+
+"Why, Bob," exclaimed Nesta in astonishment, "how you have changed!
+That is all the opposite to what you have always said before."
+
+"Is it?" said Bob lamely. "Well, I suppose I must be bewitched too.
+What do you expect when you will import such things into the
+country?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+A MOONLIGHT DISTURBANCE.
+
+
+"Aunt Dorothy's cows" became as great a family joke as "Aunt
+Dorothy's lunatics;" indeed, scarcely a day passed that the
+household was not amused by some quaint mistake of hers. Every one
+chaffed her, especially Bob; and as the two patients rapidly
+recovered, the house-party was a merry one. In spite of the thought
+of parting with his family so soon, Mr. Orban was in much better
+spirits; the cane had been safely cut, the good crop had been
+spoiled neither by fire nor the rainy season coming too soon, and
+the crushing was well in progress.
+
+"Oh dear," exclaimed Nesta one morning at breakfast, "I am so sorry
+you are getting well, Bob."
+
+"Very kind of you, I'm sure," said Bob with deliberate politeness.
+"One is always so glad of one's friends' good wishes."
+
+Every one laughed except Nesta.
+
+"Well, you know what I mean," she said. "Of course the minute you
+are well you will go, and the house will be duller than ever
+without you."
+
+"Very prettily put for the rest of us, dear," said Miss Chase. "I
+am sure we feel much complimented."
+
+"I don't know what you mean," said Nesta in bewilderment. "I didn't
+mean to compliment any one."
+
+"You achieved it, however," said Bob. "You called them a pack of
+dull dogs not fit to live with. Of course they feel charmed with
+your opinion."
+
+"Oh, I didn't," said Nesta.
+
+"You inferred it," said Miss Chase. "However, we forgive you.
+Fortunately we shan't be able to die of dullness entirely, because
+there will be so much to be done preparing for the voyage."
+
+"I vote Bob stays with us till we go," said Eustace.--"He would be
+jolly useful, wouldn't he, mother?"
+
+"Really, Eustace," remonstrated Mrs. Orban with a laugh, "I am
+ashamed of you. Is that the way you treat your friends?"
+
+Eustace reddened and looked uncomfortable as the laugh went round.
+Glancing deprecatingly at Bob, he found that he was not even
+smiling. It did seem a cheeky way of putting it.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he began, when Bob interrupted quickly.
+
+"No, don't. I was only thinking what a jolly thing you had said.
+What are friends for if they are not to be made use of?"
+
+"That is rather a dangerous theory to propound," said Mr. Orban.
+"Supposing your friends take advantage of it--what then?"
+
+"A real friend never would take advantage of it," said Bob with
+certainty; "that is just how you can test him. The chap who will
+take nothing from you, but only give, is a patronizing bounder; the
+fellow who will give nothing to you, but only take, is a mean
+beggar; the man who will give and take equally is your chum. Hold
+on to him when you've got him."
+
+"An excellent definition, Bob," said Mr. Orban, with a genial
+smile. "We shall certainly never let you go."
+
+There was a second's pause, then Bob said quietly,--
+
+"Thank you, sir. I guess I shall hold on to all of you too."
+
+It took Nesta to the end of breakfast to unravel the meaning of the
+sudden gravity that had fallen over the party, and then she was not
+sure of herself.
+
+"Why, you silly," said Eustace, to whom she appealed in private,
+"don't you see?--Father as good as said it--Bob is the right kind
+of chap to have for a chum. And so he is. I guess I know that
+better than any one."
+
+"I don't see why you should," exclaimed Nesta jealously. "We all
+know Bob; he isn't anybody's in particular. He said himself he
+meant to hold on to _all_ of us, not just one person only."
+
+Her tone was "snubby" in the extreme, but Eustace was utterly
+silent for a moment.
+
+Nesta did not know it; he would never know it himself; but there
+was a big difference in Eustace nowadays. He had not gone through
+great experiences untouched; some things in life leave an indelible
+impression.
+
+"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "I'm glad he said that."
+
+Nesta was so astonished at getting no response to her assertion
+that she exclaimed,--
+
+"Said what?"
+
+"Why, that he will hold on to us," Eustace said.
+
+"Well," Nesta remarked, again with a touch of superiority, "of
+course we all knew that without his telling us."
+
+Eustace eyed her with a quietness that somehow irritated the girl.
+She could not understand him at all, and nothing annoyed Nesta so
+much as to discover she was not understanding something that was
+perfectly clear to somebody else.
+
+"Didn't you know it?" she asked sharply.
+
+"Of course," said Eustace dreamily.
+
+"Then what do you mean?" Nesta demanded.
+
+"I was thinking about going to England," was the seemingly
+irrelevant reply.
+
+"What has that got to do with it?" said Nesta.
+
+"Everything," Eustace said. "If we had been going to stay here for
+ever and ever I shouldn't have thought so much about it. As it is,
+it means a lot that good old Bob won't forget us."
+
+"Why, how stupid you are to-day," Nesta exclaimed. "Did you think
+he might in 'a year and a day,' as mother calls it?"
+
+"How do you know it will be only 'a year and a day'?" Eustace said
+almost roughly. "How do you know we shall ever come back?"
+
+"Eustace!" cried Nesta, staring at him as if she thought he must
+have suddenly gone mad.
+
+"Well?" he said briefly.
+
+"But this is home--and father is staying here," the girl argued.
+"We couldn't stay in England for ever."
+
+"I don't know," said Eustace. "I've got an awfully queer feeling
+about going ever since it was settled. And it seems to me Bob has
+it too."
+
+"Oh, stuff!" said Nesta bracingly. "Bob only says it to tease Aunt
+Dorothy."
+
+"He said just the same things before Aunt Dorothy came," was the
+response. "That is nothing to go by."
+
+"Well, neither are your queer feelings," said Nesta. "I haven't
+any. I don't see why we should stay in England. What is to make
+us?"
+
+"Suppose we were left there to go to school?" suggested Eustace,
+watching her narrowly.
+
+Nesta stared at him blankly. It was evidently a new idea to her.
+
+"Do you think we might be?" she said; then her expression broke,
+and she smiled. "It would be just splendid, wouldn't it?" she
+added.
+
+Eustace was silent a moment.
+
+"You wouldn't mind leaving Trixy?" he said.
+
+"Well, I should come back again," Nesta answered, feeling somehow
+annoyingly rebuked, "and I should have such loads and shoals of
+things to tell her and show her. All about the girls and my
+clothes, you know--"
+
+"Oh," exclaimed Eustace in a tone of disgust, "that is all girls
+care about--talking, and showing off."
+
+"It isn't," Nesta said quickly. "I should like the learning."
+
+"Well, I shouldn't," admitted Eustace frankly; "I hate learning. It
+is only games that make school worth going to, and that isn't
+enough to make up for other things."
+
+"What other things?" asked Nesta curiously.
+
+"Oh, never mind," said Eustace impatiently; "I don't want to talk
+about it."
+
+But Nesta did exceedingly; she wanted to talk of nothing else; till
+at last Eustace went off in desperation down the hill to watch the
+sugar crushing, saying something about, "It isn't as if people
+could come back to Queensland for the holidays," and "Everything
+would be different when they were all grown up."
+
+"I don't know what is the matter with him," Nesta said to herself
+in perplexity. "I do believe he doesn't want to go at all. And I'm
+sure he is wrong about our staying there. No such luck!"
+
+Bob did stay on after he was quite well and strong, and he entirely
+justified Eustace's prophecy. He proved most useful; nothing
+apparently could have been done without him. "But for Bob," said
+Mrs. Orban, "I don't believe we should ever be ready in time."
+
+It was he who saw to the soundness of the travelling boxes, to the
+making of a packing case; he who had advice and assistance to give
+to every one, and who was certainly the life and spirit of the
+party in the evenings when other people seemed tired or out of
+heart. Eustace was not at all in good form. Mrs. Orban was at times
+inclined to have grave misgivings as to the wisdom of the step, and
+of course felt leaving her husband. Mr. Orban himself, though he
+insisted on the trip, was naturally a little sad at the prospect.
+Even Aunt Dorothy--the witch--had her moments of sadness that her
+visit should be drawing so rapidly to a close. Only to Nesta and
+Peter did the time seem to drag and hang heavy, as if it would
+never pass.
+
+"You'll have to come back with them, Miss Chase," said Bob a few
+evenings before the great departure.
+
+"I wish I could," she said; "but I am quite sure mother and father
+won't see the force of that."
+
+"Well, I think you ought to--don't you, Mrs. Orban?" Bob said.
+"Miss Chase hasn't had half enough Colonial experiences yet."
+
+"The few you have given me have been sufficiently vivid to count
+for a good many though," said the girl merrily. "I don't know that
+I really want any more."
+
+"One doesn't always want what is good for one," said Bob. "Besides,
+there is another way of looking at it--isn't there, Nesta? It has
+been proved you are a witch. You ought to be brought back by main
+force to be punished for whisking these good people all off to
+England with you."
+
+"So she ought," said Nesta gleefully. "She must be burned at the
+stake. We'll make you come."
+
+"We will, Aunt Dorothy," cried Peter, ready for the fray; "and if
+you won't, we'll get Bob to come and fetch you."
+
+"Will you really, Peter Perky?" retorted Aunt Dorothy. "I should
+like to see you. Why, Mr. Cochrane wouldn't set his nose inside
+England for all the witches in the world."
+
+"Well, no, perhaps not for all the witches in the world," said Bob
+thoughtfully; "they might prove rather too much for me. But what a
+lot of nonsense we talk, to be sure."
+
+The nonsense had the effect of sending Miss Chase to bed quite
+unusually meditative, and, do what she would, she could not get off
+to sleep for wondering whether she ever would come back to
+Queensland again. It seemed of all things most impossible, and yet,
+as she argued, who would ever have thought of her coming at all
+this time only a year ago?
+
+She had become accustomed to most of the night sounds that had at
+first puzzled and sometimes frightened her, and by day there was
+something about the life that delighted her--it was so free, such
+an open air existence! "They seem to me to sweep all their worries
+with the dust over the edge of the veranda," she thought. "I think
+England will feel a little stiff and shut in after it."
+
+It was a bright moonlight night. A deluded cock at about midnight
+awoke and fancied it must be day. He crowed so loudly over his
+discovery that he roused a great enemy of his, who replied in husky
+irritation and no measured terms that he was a fool. But the
+mischief was done--some half-dozen young cockerels took the matter
+up as a joke, and crowed persistently in spite of all remonstrance
+from the rest of the poultry.
+
+Miss Chase put her head under the bedclothes and tried to shut out
+the sound, but in vain. Besides, it was far too hot to sleep with a
+buried nose and mouth. Resolutely keeping her eyes tight shut, she
+set her mind upon nothing but sleep. She must have lain like that
+for quite ten minutes, when suddenly her eyes unclosed in spite of
+her, just as if they were worked by a spring, and she was as wide
+awake as ever. At least so she fancied the first instant, but the
+next she thought she must be dreaming. There had been no
+sound--nothing but Nesta's regular breathing--and yet at the other
+side of the room, standing with his back towards her, was the
+figure of a man.
+
+Her first impulse was to call out, her second prompted caution, and
+she pinched herself hard to make sure whether she was awake or
+not. There was no doubt about it--she was not asleep; the pinch
+hurt considerably, and the man was still there. He was apparently
+examining the things on her dressing-table minutely, and she
+guessed he was looking for valuables. Knowing the story of the dark
+visitor who had frightened every one so before her arrival, Miss
+Chase had followed the general rule and left nothing of any value
+lying about, though no one thought a thief would venture into the
+house now that it was so full. Here he certainly was, however, and
+the question was, "What ought she to do?"
+
+Miss Chase lay absolutely still, her heart beating to suffocation,
+her mind working rapidly. There was no saying that this was the
+same man. He might be of a much more desperate and vicious
+character. Had she been alone she might have risked screaming for
+help, but there was also Nesta to be considered; she dared not
+expose the child to a knock on the head to silence her.
+
+The man took a slow tour of the room, peering into nooks and
+corners in a stealthy, silent way that was most eerie to watch.
+Miss Chase bore it until at last he went towards Nesta's bed with
+that cat-like, sinister gait. The horror of his approaching the
+helpless sleeper at the other side of the room was too much for the
+girl's strained nerves. His back was towards her; he fancied her
+asleep. Slipping her hand under her pillow she drew out a small
+revolver, then sat up softly and took careful aim. There was a
+report, a howl of fear and pain, and the man turned to gaze wildly
+round the room. Nesta sprang from her bed with a terrified yell and
+rushed to her aunt, who sat, still pointing her weapon at the
+intruder, with a look of grim determination in her eyes.
+
+With a heavy groan the man started towards the window, limping
+pitifully. He disappeared out on to the veranda, leaving a trail of
+blood across the uncarpeted floor.
+
+"Now go for your father," said Miss Chase, giving the trembling
+girl a push. "Tell him what has happened."
+
+Nesta needed no second bidding, but she had not reached the door
+before it opened and Mr. Orban dashed in.
+
+"Through there," said Miss Chase, pointing towards the window.
+"Follow the blood track. He can't go fast. I winged him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WHO IS IN THE BOAT?
+
+
+"Really, Miss Chase," said Bob next morning, "I'm glad you didn't
+burst all your accomplishments on us at once. We might have been
+rather frightened of you."
+
+Miss Chase smiled. She was looking very pale, and unlike her usual
+bright self.
+
+"I hope I didn't do an awfully wrong thing," she said nervously;
+"but I had only two definite ideas--one was to save Nesta, the
+other not to let the man get away."
+
+"You were perfectly right, Dorothy," Mr. Orban said; "there would
+never have been any end to the worry until he was caught. He may
+thank his stars I didn't find him out. I should not have been so
+merciful."
+
+"So that is why you aimed at his ankle, Aunt Dorothy?" said
+Eustace. "It was clever of you to think of laming him."
+
+"She says she did," said Bob, the tease.--"But are you quite sure,
+Miss Chase, that you really didn't aim at his head? For most women
+his ankle would have been wonderfully near the mark."
+
+"I shall treat the aspersion with silent contempt," laughed Miss
+Chase.
+
+"Where did you learn to shoot like that, Dorothy?" asked Mrs.
+Orban.
+
+"Oh, I've patronized every shooting gallery that has come to the
+village for the last eighteen years, I should think," was the
+answer. "But, do you know, I feel most awfully remorseful about
+that poor fellow. He will be lame for a long time."
+
+In the kitchen sat Manuel, the stable-boy, his leg bandaged and
+resting on a chair; for the midnight visitor on both occasions had
+been no other. He confessed to the first performance quite readily,
+and declared that this second had been at the instigation of Sinkum
+Fung, who promised always to get the reward for stolen goods, and
+give him half. Mr. Orban was not sorry to get hold of some definite
+reason for turning Sinkum Fung out of the place. He had long
+suspected him to be a cheat, and he wanted an Englishman in the
+store. But Manuel, when he was well, was to be allowed to retrieve
+his character, as he protested vehemently he would.
+
+"You needn't worry about Manuel," said Bob. "We shall all be coming
+to you to shoot us, if you'll just bind us up as beautifully
+afterwards. Did you learn that in the shooting galleries too, in
+case you put the showman's eye out?"
+
+Miss Chase really did treat this speech with silent scorn, and
+changed the subject.
+
+The clearing up of the black-fellow mystery was a great relief to
+every one's mind.
+
+"Though it comes rather late in the day, just when we are going
+away," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Do you know, I don't feel a bit as if we were really going," Miss
+Chase declared the very evening before their departure.
+
+All the same, when the next day came, they started in the
+plantation schooner for Cooktown, accompanied by Bob and Mr. Orban,
+who were going to see them off.
+
+The children found many excitements on the way; and when finally
+they were hoisted on board the big boat by means of a crane and
+basket, Peter's joy knew no bounds.
+
+Nesta found it was certainly not very nice saying the last
+"good-byes," and she wished Eustace had not said anything to her
+about the possibility of not coming back to Queensland for years.
+
+But when they were fairly off, and out of sight of waving hands and
+the two strong, kind faces that had been his ideals from his
+babyhood, even Eustace began to cheer up considerably. He had been
+very much like a bear with a sore head, rather to his mother's and
+Miss Chase's astonishment; for Eustace could generally be counted
+on as sensible and fairly serene in temper. To get short answers
+from him, to find him unreasonably uninterested in things, and to
+see him really snappy with Nesta and Peter, was something new and
+extraordinary.
+
+"Well, good-bye, old chap," said Bob. "Let England see the best
+side of you, and be a credit to us."
+
+The words rang in the boy's ears long after, and he pulled himself
+together with a sudden consciousness that he had not been much of a
+credit to any one for some days. He hoped Bob hadn't noticed it,
+for never, never could he explain to him that it was just the
+thought of leaving him that made going away so hard. If only he
+had not been possessed by the horrible feeling that he would never
+come back again, or at least not for years and years, it would have
+been different.
+
+It was impossible not to become interested in the boat before very
+long--it was so huge, such a real house afloat, and so unusual.
+Peter revelled in going downstairs to bed. Becky wanted to play in
+what she called her "bunky-bye" instead of going to sleep. Nesta
+eyed some other families of children speculatively, wondering how
+much good they would prove as friends on the voyage. But Eustace
+only wanted to talk to the officers, especially the captain, of
+whom he determined to ask hundreds of questions about the
+machinery, how he knew his way, and the exact time the boat would
+reach every port, just to be able to check it off, and see how far
+he was right in his estimates.
+
+The first day was a lovely one--a less likely one to be productive
+of adventures could scarcely be imagined.
+
+"Calm as a duck-pond, isn't it, sir?" said one of the seamen to
+Eustace, who stood staring out to sea. "Yet I've seen some storms
+here too. It's a nasty bit of coast, with some ugly reefs about."
+
+"Are there many wrecks here?" asked Eustace with interest.
+
+"A goodish few," said the seaman; "but one doesn't look for them
+this kind of weather."
+
+"No, of course not," said Eustace, with a great show of certainty,
+for he did not want the man to imagine he was scaring him.
+
+Peter had been fairly irrepressible all day. He was always a
+fidget--made on springs, his father said--and the excitement
+carried him away entirely. He talked to every one indiscriminately,
+especially if they happened to be in uniform, and had no shyness in
+asking questions. He had a dozen friends in a very few hours.
+Afraid lest he should weary people, Mrs. Orban tried to keep him
+with her, and towards evening she said,--
+
+"You might play with poor Becky a little, Peter. She will have to
+go to bed very soon, and I think it has been a duller day for her
+than for any one else."
+
+Which was probably true, as Becky was too tiny to have the
+sustained interest in things the others had.
+
+So Peter began a game of romps with Becky, which at first consisted
+of careering round and round and in and out between their mother's
+and aunt's chairs, Peter making the reiterated assertion, "I'll
+catch you, I'll catch you," Becky retorting with delighted
+chuckles, "Oo can't, oo can't!"
+
+Mrs. Orban was just congratulating herself that Becky would be
+delightfully sleepy after the exercise, when the child made a
+sudden dive away from the chairs in her excitement, Peter behind
+her. The next minute she was rolling head over heels down the
+companion-ladder, down which it had evidently been her intention to
+go right side up, for a joke.
+
+The yells that proceeded from the passage below assured every one
+that Becky was not killed; but when she was picked up it was
+discovered that one poor little wrist was terribly sprained. She
+must have fallen with it doubled under her. To put her to bed in
+such pain was out of the question; her mother's arms was the only
+place in which she could find any rest. So Mrs. Orban remained on
+deck in the cool with Miss Chase near her. The children's bedtime
+was quite forgotten; in fact, after the doctor had examined Becky
+and reported on her injuries, Nesta, Eustace, and Peter had
+disappeared--probably out of range of orders to go to bed. Their
+mother, when she gave them a thought, supposed them to be all
+together, and in her anxiety over Becky never realized how late it
+was getting.
+
+It was quite dark. All the other children had disappeared. Most of
+the grown-ups who had begun the voyage together, and were friendly
+by now, were in the music-room below having a concert. The ship was
+utterly still but for the throb of the engines and the "swish" of
+the water as the bows cut through it. They were running at full
+speed, without a pitch or a roll, the sea as clear as glass, when
+all of a sudden there was an awful crash, and the boat shuddered
+from bow to stern.
+
+In an instant the peaceful scene was changed to one of wildest
+confusion. There were cries of terror, hurried questions, rapid
+orders, the crew dashing hither and thither, and a stream of
+horror-stricken people began swarming up from below. It was awful,
+the intense darkness of the night adding to the confusion
+immeasurably.
+
+"We've struck on a rock," Mrs. Orban heard some one say. "There
+isn't a minute to lose."
+
+"Man the boats!" called a strident voice, and there was a running
+of ropes over pulleys, a creaking and a splashing not far away.
+
+"Here you are, ma'am," a seaman said, taking her by the arm.
+
+"Oh, the children!" said Mrs. Orban, holding back.
+
+"We're here, mother," said Nesta's voice at her elbow.
+
+"We'll see to them, ma'am," said the seaman; "you and the little
+one first."
+
+He was almost rough in his kindness; and Mrs. Orban found herself
+swinging down into the boat below before she had time to make any
+protestations.
+
+One after another, through pitch darkness into the only chance for
+safety, people were sent down. It was impossible to know who
+came--nothing could be seen or heard. The seamen above could not
+stop to pick and choose, but whoever they could lay hands on went.
+
+Then came a hoarse cry--the boat was becoming overcrowded, the crew
+pushed off, and away they went with a bound at every stroke of the
+oars. To Mrs. Orban it was a hideous nightmare of awful anxiety.
+She could not tell whether all her children and her sister were
+with her or not. Her one ray of hope was that as they had
+apparently been all standing close together, the others must have
+been put in after her. But people had rushed so the moment they
+knew the boats were lowered, there was an awful possibility the
+children had been swept aside. They were certainly not near her,
+for she called their names and Dorothy's again and again, and there
+was no answer.
+
+The men had not been rowing for seven minutes when there was a
+sudden awful sound behind them, and the boat plunged and rocked as
+if she were a living thing gone mad with terror.
+
+"Oh, what was that?" Mrs. Orban cried, and the question ran from
+mouth to mouth.
+
+"The ship," answered a solemn voice with a break in it; "she's gone
+under, poor thing. Must have been ripped from bows to stern."
+
+The silence that followed was dreadful. How many boats had got
+away? Who was left on board? There was not one in the boat who had
+not a thought of agonized pity for the poor souls left behind.
+
+It was so unexpected; every one was so unprepared. Who could
+suppose that with a sea as calm as a mill-pond a great vessel could
+strike on a rock and sink in less than seven minutes?
+
+Afterwards, when the matter came to be investigated, it was
+discovered that the _Cora_ had run on to a coral reef unmarked in
+the charts. Coral reefs form with extraordinary rapidity, and are
+infinitely dangerous, because they are so sharp as to cut like
+razors. The loss of the _Cora_ was no one's fault; but that fact
+was of but little comfort to those whose friends went down in her.
+
+The boat pulled steadily on awhile, then paused, for no one could
+be certain where she lay as regarded the shore.
+
+"Easy, mates," said the man in command. "We must hang about till
+there's a gleam of light to give us our bearings, or we shall go
+down like that poor thing over there."
+
+In the hush that fell it was possible to hear each other speak.
+People began to question who was in the boat with them.
+
+"Eustace, Nesta, Peter, are you there?" cried Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Yes, mother; yes, mother," she heard, and her heart bounded with
+thankfulness.
+
+"And you, Dorothy?" she forced herself to say.
+
+But to this there was no answer.
+
+"Children," Mrs. Orban said, "isn't your aunt there?"
+
+"I don't know," Eustace said; "she wouldn't come before us."
+
+There could be no doubt that Miss Chase was not there.
+
+The first streak of daylight fell upon a boatload of haggard men
+and women, afraid of, yet longing for, the day. It was discovered
+that they had come within half a mile of shore, and the crew pulled
+with a will till they beached the boat. One after another in the
+shadowy gloom the stiff, cramped figures landed. There were
+meetings, but no open rejoicings, because of those others left
+behind.
+
+Eustace and Nesta clung to their mother, half sobbing.
+
+"And Peter," she said--"where is Peter?"
+
+"Peter?" said the other two blankly.
+
+"I thought you said he was there?" said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"We--we answered for ourselves," faltered Eustace. "I didn't notice
+he didn't speak."
+
+The boat was empty now. Groups of shivering, unstrung people stood
+about, utterly incapable of thinking what to do next. But Peter was
+not there--nor was Dorothy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+WHAT THE TIDE BROUGHT IN.
+
+
+The stranded party was much in need of a leader till one of the
+crew volunteered the information that some miles higher up the
+coast there was a beche-de-mer station where they would probably
+get some means of communicating with the rest of the world, and at
+least find food, of which every one was much in need. Beche-de-mer
+fisheries are a feature of the coast, the beche-de-mer being a huge
+sea-slug, thought to be a great delicacy.
+
+This particular station was owned by some half-caste Portuguese,
+and worked by a mixture of aborigines and Malays, a most
+unpromising and ruffianly-looking set. However, they received the
+unhappy boatload quite civilly, promised that a messenger should be
+dispatched across country to the nearest civilized centre, and
+provided a good meal of salt junk, sweet potatoes, rice, and tea.
+It did not matter to the exhausted men and women that they had to
+eat off tin plates, drink out of tin pannikins, and that the food
+was more roughly prepared and served than any they had ever tasted
+before.
+
+They camped under some trees for the meal; and many sad eyes
+looked towards the great calm sea, where not a trace of last
+night's tragedy was to be seen. In the distance there was the sail
+of an outgoing vessel--one of the beche-de-mer boats off on a
+several months' trip. Besides that, there was just one tiny speck,
+not so far out as the sail, but much smaller.
+
+"It's a boat," said the captain of the station, a swarthy
+Portuguese. He had been watching the speck for some time through a
+telescope. "So far as I can make out it is something of the same
+build as yours."
+
+There was instant excitement. Could it be another of the ship's
+boats?
+
+It seemed an eternity before the boat came close enough to discover
+that she did indeed belong to the ill-fated _Cora_. The crowd on
+the beach was speechless before she pulled in to shore and her
+worn-out occupants were disembarked.
+
+Amongst the anxious watchers were Mrs. Orban, with the fretful,
+feverish Becky in her arms, and Nesta and Eustace. But though they
+pressed forward and saw every man, woman, and child that landed,
+there was no comfort for them. Miss Chase and Peter had not come.
+There was but one interpretation to put on this--they had never
+left the ship.
+
+"Any more boats likely to come?" asked a woman whose husband was
+missing.
+
+"No, lady," said a sailor, shaking his head pitifully. "They only
+got one more out, and she was overcrowded and swamped. There was no
+time for anything."
+
+There is no describing the misery of the day that followed--the
+terrible blankness for many, the haunting recollection that all had
+of the nightmare experience.
+
+The men at the station were as kind as they could be in their rough
+way. The sailors who had manned the boats set to work to arrange
+some comforts for the women and children, improvising hammocks for
+them to lie in, as sleeping in the grass was dangerous on account
+of snakes and other disagreeables.
+
+Poor little Becky spent a day of weeping, for her wrist was very
+painful. She needed all Mrs. Orban's attention, which was perhaps
+fortunate for the poor lady--it gave her less time for brooding
+over her terrible loss. Nesta cried herself nearly silly, and then
+fell asleep in a hammock that a kindly old sailor prevailed on her
+to try.
+
+Eustace was too restless to settle down. He spent his time hovering
+about his white-faced, desolate-looking mother. The moment inaction
+began to tell on him and make him feel sleepy he went away for a
+while, and paced up and down by the water's edge to rouse himself.
+However useless his presence, he could not bear to leave his mother
+lonely and unwatched; it seemed heartless to forget her and her
+sorrows in sleep when she could take no rest.
+
+"She might want something, or perhaps she would like to speak," he
+argued, "or she may cry presently; and there mustn't be no one to
+comfort her."
+
+But Mrs. Orban asked for nothing for herself, only water now and
+then to bandage Becky's wrist. She took the food when it was given
+her, but ate very little. Whatever she was thinking about, she did
+not speak of her trouble, but inquired after Nesta, and whether she
+and Eustace had had plenty of food and felt no symptoms of chill or
+fever.
+
+"I wish father or Bob would come quick," thought the boy
+helplessly; "we're no good. She is only thinking about taking care
+of us all the time; and I don't know how to look after her. It
+would have been better if I had been drowned instead of Aunt
+Dorothy; she would have known what to do."
+
+He was doing one of his violent pacings up and down, and every turn
+backwards or forwards he had to change his course, for the tide was
+running in fast. The sea fascinated him; he could not help watching
+it, especially now when all sorts of bits of wreckage were
+beginning to float in--lengths of rope, a life-belt or two, and
+things belonging to the _Cora's_ deck. The men from the station
+were watching with the sailors and hauling things in to land.
+
+"Any bodies that went down will be carried by the under current
+into the next bay," Eustace heard the beche-de-mer owner explaining
+to the _Cora's_ crew.
+
+"Well, my name's not Swaine," said an old sailor with a telescope,
+"if that isn't one coming now."
+
+There was a thrill of excitement, an immediate demand for the
+telescope, as every one pressed forward.
+
+"It will be a broken spar," said the beche-de-mer captain. "I've
+been here fifteen years and there's never such a thing happened
+yet."
+
+"I'm going out in one of the boats, mate," said the old sailor
+resolutely. "Who is coming with me?"
+
+There were many volunteers at once, and the boat was launched.
+
+Eustace remained as if frozen to the spot. He could just see the
+log-like thing lying upon the water, gently tossed by the tiny
+waves that were slowly, slowly bearing it to shore. It certainly
+looked no bigger than a broken spar, and very much that shape as,
+the boat drawn up alongside, two sailors leant over and lifted it
+in.
+
+It was all Eustace could do to make himself stay until the boat's
+return, and he covered his face as the burden was gently lifted
+ashore.
+
+"It's all right, youngster," said a kindly voice at his elbow, one
+of the older sailors; "he is alive--only unconscious. It's a
+miracle; but there, miracles do happen, say what you will."
+
+The news made all the difference to Eustace, and he pressed round
+with the rest.
+
+"Here," said one of the _Cora's_ crew, catching sight of him
+suddenly, "make way for this laddie--it's his own brother."
+
+In utter bewilderment Eustace felt himself forced to the centre of
+the crowd, and there, with a man kneeling beside him trying
+restoratives, lay Peter, with a life-belt round him, his face
+ashen, and his fair hair all sodden--but he was living. They said
+he was alive, but certainly he did not look it.
+
+Eustace turned, fought his way madly through the press, and dashed
+up the beach straight to the trees where his mother sat bending
+over Becky.
+
+"Hush," she said warningly; "I am just getting her off to sleep."
+
+The quiet voice pulled the boy up just in time, before he had
+blurted out his news in all its crudeness.
+
+"Mother," he said instead, "let me hold Becky--I can really. Peter
+will want you."
+
+Mrs. Orban neither started nor changed colour; she just stared at
+Eustace curiously, and said inquiringly,--
+
+"Peter?"
+
+"Yes, mummie, Peter," Eustace said in a shaking voice. "He is
+unconscious, but he will want you when he opens his eyes."
+
+He held out his arms for Becky; and Mrs. Orban rose and went as if
+she were dreaming, leaving him standing there with the baby.
+
+It was a very long time before Peter knew that he wanted his
+mother. Terror and the exposure in the water for so many hours had
+done their work, and even when the little fellow recovered
+consciousness he was too ill to realize anything at all.
+
+Every one was very kind to the Orbans. The poor lady who had lost
+her husband took entire charge of Becky; other fellow-passengers
+offered to help with Peter, who needed nursing night and day. The
+survivors from the wreck clung together, and found some comfort in
+helping each other. The people of the station were very attentive
+and good; but the relief party from Cooktown was hailed with
+thankfulness, for there were of course many discomforts and
+unpleasantnesses. The blacks had a disagreeable habit of prowling
+about in the night and peeping at their guests as they tried to
+sleep in the impromptu hammocks. The food was coarse and
+monotonous; the men rough, and uncouth in their ways.
+
+When Eustace saw his father he felt a great burden lifted from his
+shoulders; his powerlessness to help his mother did not matter any
+more; no one could comfort her like his father. Then there was Bob;
+he would help the whole family to keep up in his usual splendid
+way!
+
+Fortunately Mr. Orban and Bob had not yet left Cooktown when the
+news of the disaster arrived. They hastened to the beche-de-mer
+station on getting Mrs. Orban's message, without the least
+knowledge whom they would find of their own party; and after the
+first explanations were over, no one could speak of the cloud
+shadowing the joy of meeting. To Eustace's infinite surprise, Bob,
+to whom he had looked for so much, failed him utterly--he could not
+rouse himself, let alone other people.
+
+The survivors of the wrecked _Cora_ were carried by steamer to
+Cooktown, and Mr. Orban took his family to the best hotel, for no
+plans could be made till Peter was better.
+
+Alone with Eustace, Nesta gave vent to her feelings very often.
+
+"Eustace," she said, "wasn't it queer Aunt Dorothy saying the very
+day before we left she didn't feel a bit as if we were going to
+England? Do you remember?"
+
+Eustace replied with a kind of grunt. He had not words for every
+emotion as Nesta had.
+
+"And it seems so horrid," she proceeded chokily, "to know nothing
+about what happened to her or even how it happened. If only some
+one could tell us!"
+
+"What's the good of talking when no one can?" said Eustace
+gruffly. "I can't think why you do. You only make yourself cry."
+
+The first person to speak of Miss Chase without tears was Peter. He
+was lying in their private sitting-room, and suddenly he said,--
+
+"I say, where's Aunt Dorothy?"
+
+He had asked before, but in his weakness the subject had easily
+been changed.
+
+"She is not here, dear," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"That's funny," said Peter, in his old talkative way; "she
+distinctly said she was coming."
+
+Bob got up from a deep chair and stood, with his back to the room,
+looking out of the window.
+
+"Did she, Peter?" said Mr. Orban quickly. "When?"
+
+"Why, on the boat," said Peter; "when she put the life-belt round
+me."
+
+"Oh, she put the life-belt round you, did she?" said Mr. Orban.
+"And what did she say?"
+
+Every one leant forward eagerly. It was the first time Peter had
+shown any inclination to talk, and no one had guessed he could
+possibly know anything of Miss Chase.
+
+"She said," was his clear reply, "'That's right, Peter Perky. Now
+mind you float; don't struggle, but lie on your back.'--Bob," he
+broke off, "lucky you taught me to float, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, yes," said Bob; "never mind about that. Go on about Dorothy."
+
+Eustace stared at his back in wonder. For the first time in his
+life he heard Bob irritable.
+
+"She said," Peter went on obediently, "'Don't be frightened; I am
+coming too.'"
+
+"Well?" prompted Mr. Orban.
+
+"Then she took me up, and we jumped overboard. I don't know what
+happened next."
+
+"Try to think," said Bob in a hard voice.
+
+"I can't," said Peter; "everything was noise and blackness. Ask
+Aunt Dorothy; she'll tell you."
+
+There was a solemn hush--so solemn that Peter stared round in
+amazement at the grave faces. Bob turned and walked heavily out of
+the room. Nesta buried her head in her hands.
+
+"Why, what's the matter?" asked Peter sharply.
+
+He had to be told then, and he wept as if his heart would break;
+but he could remember nothing after the jump into the sea. It
+appeared that he was all by himself at the other side of the ship,
+very unhappy because he thought it was all his fault Becky had been
+hurt. Then came the crash, and he was terrified. He was wondering
+what had happened, when Aunt Dorothy came running towards him,
+crying, "Peter, Peter, where are you?" And then followed the
+putting on of the life-belt. It was so easy to picture her talking
+to him all the time, to reassure him, in that quick, cheery way of
+hers.
+
+"O Eustace," Nesta said afterwards, "wasn't she splendid? I guess
+Bob must be sorry he teased her so now."
+
+"Pooh," said Eustace, "that was only his fun. Aunt Dorothy knew
+it."
+
+But Nesta could not stand teasing herself, and was sure no one
+liked or understood it.
+
+"I don't know," she said; "she used to get red sometimes. And I'm
+not so sure Bob did mean it all in chaff. He has a real
+down-on-anything-English. I mean to ask him some day what he thinks
+of English girls' pluck now."
+
+"If you do," said Eustace, with sudden ferocity, "I'll never speak
+to you again."
+
+Nesta stared at him in dismay.
+
+"Why ever?" she asked dully. "Wouldn't he like to talk about her?
+Didn't he like her, really?"
+
+"Like her!" Eustace exclaimed. "Oh, you little stupid! Didn't you
+see him when Peter was telling us about her? Didn't you hear Bob
+then? Can't you understand?"
+
+Nesta stared in blank silence for some seconds.
+
+"Oh, I say!" she gasped, "I didn't know! I never thought of that!
+I--I wasn't looking at him."
+
+"I wasn't looking at anything else," said Eustace; "but I guess he
+wouldn't like to think any one knew, so we must hold our tongues.
+But I couldn't have you going and asking him blundering questions."
+
+"I won't," said Nesta, with unwonted meekness. "When did you
+guess?"
+
+"Only then," said Eustace; "but now I can remember lots of things.
+Bob always liked talking to her better than any one. Bob didn't
+want her to go. Bob asked her to come back."
+
+He broke off short and slammed out of the room. It was as bad to
+think of as it had been to bear his mother's helpless loneliness;
+for as he could do nothing then for her, he could do nothing now
+for Bob.
+
+It was a matter of conjecture between the twins what was likely to
+happen next. They really expected that, when Peter was well enough
+for the rough journey, they would all go back to the plantation,
+and settle down again for ever and ever.
+
+A telegram had been dispatched with the bad news to Mr. and Mrs.
+Chase. The reply was an urgent appeal for them all to go on as
+first intended.
+
+Leaving everything on the plantation in Bob's care, Mr. Orban
+decided to take his wife and family home himself. It would not be
+the joyful home-coming they had anticipated; and Mrs. Orban would
+need him, he knew.
+
+"We must do what we can for the poor dear old people," Mr. Orban
+explained to Bob. "Dorothy was their baby. It is a terrible loss to
+them."
+
+"To every one," said Bob briefly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+MOTHER'S HOME.
+
+
+In the length and breadth of England there could hardly have been
+found a more lovely little property than Maze Court. There were
+larger houses in the neighbourhood, with more extensive grounds;
+but as Brenda Dixon stood on the terrace and gazed down towards the
+good old English park she felt a real glow of pride and pleasure in
+belonging to such a place. It was the sort of feeling she had
+whenever she brought a new school friend home for the holidays.
+
+Beside her stood Herbert--long, lean, and very gentlemanly in his
+flannels. It was one of his sister's great joys that he always
+looked a gentleman in everything.
+
+She was a striking-looking girl herself, with features a little too
+pronounced for accurate beauty; but this very fault had the effect
+of making her handsome. She had little personal vanity--mere
+features she cared nothing for--but pride of birth and of the old
+home were deeply rooted in her.
+
+"I think Nesta and Eustace ought to be surprised," she was
+thinking; "they won't have seen anything like it. It will seem so
+big and splendid to them after the kind of life they have had."
+
+Brenda was never very sure how to picture the Orbans' existence in
+Queensland. There was a touch of pettiness about it--a feeling of
+poverty and "hugger-muggerness," if one may coin such a word. The
+thought of her uncle going daily to his work in his shirt-sleeves;
+of her aunt helping in the housework; her cousins brought up just
+anyhow, without a governess or any schooling, shocked her
+sensibilities and gave vivid local colouring to her ideas about the
+Orbans. Those were the sort of details she would never have
+referred to at school.
+
+And now she and Herbert were waiting for the arrival of the
+travellers, whom their grandparents had driven to the station to
+meet.
+
+"Oh dear," she said with a sigh, "how I wish I didn't wish they
+weren't coming! If they are fearfully eccentric, all the
+neighbourhood will be talking about it in a week, and thinking it
+funny we have such relations. One can't explain to every one that
+they really are ladies and gentlemen gone to seed, can one?"
+
+"Not exactly," said Herbert. "I jolly well hope you won't try; it
+would be beastly bad form. Of course if one had a fellow staying in
+the house one might have to explain."
+
+"I simply couldn't ask any one," Brenda said. "It would be all over
+the school next term my uncle was a common labourer, and my cousins
+savages--or something!"
+
+"Nice sort of friends you seem to have," said Herbert. "Is that a
+girl's usual way?"
+
+"Well," said Brenda, with some asperity, "boys aren't any better,
+if you should have to explain matters to a chum of yours."
+
+"That's different," Herbert said; "one doesn't want to give a bad
+impression. What I hope is that Eustace isn't an awful little muff.
+I expect he is, though--can't help being when he has never been
+amongst any boys. It will have to be knocked out of him."
+
+"Aunt Dorothy said he was a very nice little chap," Brenda quoted,
+and then her voice broke, so that she could not go on.
+
+It was the beginning of the summer holidays, and both she and
+Herbert were feeling the death of Miss Chase most dreadfully. It
+had been bad enough when she left before the end of the winter
+holidays. Again at Easter the dullness of the house without her had
+known no bounds. But now, when they knew she would never be with
+them again, her very name choked them; they could scarcely speak of
+her, because her absence proved at every turn all that her presence
+had meant to them and to every one. How they had hated Australia
+when she left! How much more they hated it now and everything to do
+with it--even the coming of the cousins! Australia seemed the root
+of all evil--the cause of Aunt Dorothy's death.
+
+"Aunt Dorothy was a brick," said Herbert jerkily; "she saw niceness
+in people whatever they were like. But girls don't really know when
+fellows are muffs."
+
+"I don't know about Eustace," said Brenda, "but Nesta looked
+fearfully long-legged and queerly dressed in those snapshots Aunt
+Dorothy did."
+
+"I hope she won't want to kiss me when she says 'How-do-you-do,'"
+said Herbert; "that is all I mind about her. But if that kid
+Eustace fancies he is going to hang around with me perpetually, he
+will find himself mistaken. I couldn't be bothered."
+
+"But we shall have to look after them properly, and treat them just
+as we would any other visitors," Brenda said anxiously; "we can't
+sort of leave them to themselves, you know."
+
+"Of course," said Herbert rather testily; "what do you take me for?
+I hope I shan't behave like a cad in my own house! But that is just
+the nuisance of it: they'll be visitors without being visitors, and
+they'll be here such an awful time. Thank goodness, there will be
+term time to look forward to!"
+
+"If only Aunt Dorothy--" began Brenda.
+
+"Oh, shut up," said Herbert roughly. Then added more gently, "I
+think the carriage has just turned in at the park gate. Listen."
+
+All through the voyage Eustace and Nesta had been picturing this
+very day--this very hour. The parting with Bob and the farewell to
+home necessarily dropped into the background of their thoughts; the
+foreground was full of expectations. Now that they could realize
+they were on their way to the fulfilment of what had originally
+been the dream of their lives, all the old feeling of longing
+possessed them. At last they would see England! At last they would
+know what real "home" was like--their mother's old home, to which
+she had given them such a sense of belonging by all the tales they
+knew so well!
+
+That England was not what they expected was natural enough. Mrs.
+Orban had never pretended to describe England, but simply her own
+particular corner of it on the borders of Wales. Leaving the ship
+was all bustle and rush, but during the long train journey there
+was plenty of time to look about, and English scenery struck all
+three children as most peculiar.
+
+"Why, it's just like a map!" exclaimed Peter, as he knelt up at a
+window. "I'm certain if I was up in a balloon it would look like a
+map with all those funny little hedges."
+
+"I think it would look like a patchwork quilt," said Nesta.
+"Father, why do people mark their land out into such funny little
+bits?"
+
+So spoke the children, used to wide tracts of land without
+boundaries, hundreds of acres without fence or railing--such
+country as England boasts of in miniature only on its wildest
+moors.
+
+The twins were speechless and almost suffocated with excitement
+when the train at last ran into a little country station, and Mr.
+Orban said briskly,--
+
+"Here we are!"
+
+"There they are!" exclaimed Mrs. Orban, with a little sob in her
+voice.
+
+"Who? who?" yelled Peter, dashing from the other side of the
+carriage.
+
+"Grannie and grandpapa," answered Mrs. Orban.
+
+"Oh, where?" said Peter, as the train stopped. The children knew
+Bob Cochrane's grandfather and grandmother--a very comfortable,
+homely old pair of the typical "grannyish" type, rather bent,
+rather deaf, and always referred to as "the old people." Trixy
+invariably rushed at them when they came, and called them "the dear
+old pets."
+
+There was no one the least "grannyish" or cosy-looking on the
+platform. Only a very erect, elderly gentleman with silver hair,
+and a lady who might have been the Queen, so dignified, so stately
+was she. They were the sort of people the twins had read of but
+never seen.
+
+A hush fell over the children as they scrambled out of the carriage
+after their mother, and waited till their grandparents were ready
+to notice them. Then they each received a kiss and a handshake
+which made them instantly feel that nothing would be more
+impossible than to rush upon this grandfather and grandmother and
+call them either "dear," "old," or "pets."
+
+All through the drive in the old-fashioned waggonette the sense of
+unfamiliarity grew as the children stared--the twins furtively,
+Peter openly--at Mr. and Mrs. Chase.
+
+It seemed to the twins such a queer arrival, and so different to
+anything they had expected, that they could scarcely believe it was
+real. "Why," thought Nesta, "the Cochranes make much more fuss over
+us when we go to see them for a day." But Eustace's thoughts were
+too confused for description.
+
+The conversation was funny and jerky, and just the sort of things
+strangers say to each other. Mrs. Chase hoped they were not very
+tired, and that they had had a nice journey. And Mr. Chase said it
+was a hotter summer than there had been for the last ten years, and
+so on.
+
+"Oh dear," thought Eustace wearily, as they drove into the park,
+"how different it would have been if Aunt Dorothy had been here!"
+
+But still there was the place to be interested in, and when his
+mother said, "This is home, Eustace," he roused himself, and looked
+about him.
+
+Even a Colonial child, accustomed to vastness, could not help
+admiring such a place as this, full of fine old trees spreading
+over the short cropped turf. The park was hilly, and swept away to
+right and left towards thick woods.
+
+Then, as the carriage reached a bend and came into full view of the
+great house, standing gray, massive, and strong in the evening
+light, the children's hearts did thrill with pride. This was
+something better than their own slenderly-built, iron-roofed house
+in Queensland.
+
+"There are Herbert and Brenda waiting for us," said Mrs. Chase,
+"but I don't see nurse. I have got you a charming woman as nurse
+for Becky and Peter. You can't be tied down to looking after the
+children, you know. I want you to be free to enjoy yourself."
+
+Peter started as if he had been shot.
+
+"Me have a nurse!" he exclaimed. "I don't want looking after."
+
+Eustace and Nesta glanced quickly at their mother. Becky with a
+nurse! This was something extraordinary. And mother "not to be tied
+down to looking after the children." When had it ever been a tie to
+mother to look after them? Such a strange idea had never occurred
+to any of them before, and all in their own separate ways resented
+it.
+
+Mr. Chase looked at Peter in surprise.
+
+"When I was your age," he said gravely, "I had what was given me,
+no matter what I wanted."
+
+"We've got to think about your mother's wants first," said Mrs.
+Chase, "and she deserves a holiday after all these years."
+
+"Quite right," said Mr. Orban; "she needs one badly. I am thankful
+she should have it."
+
+There was no time to say more, for just then the carriage pulled up
+under the fine old portico.
+
+Again there was that sense of stiffness and awkwardness as the
+Dixons came forward to greet their cousins; there was no triumphant
+entry and welcome to the old home. Mrs. Chase drew Mrs. Orban in;
+Mr. Chase took Mr. Orban; Becky, sleepy and perfectly placid, was
+whisked away by a grave-faced, elderly woman who said, "Come along,
+sir," to Peter, and disappeared through a red baize door, whither
+the little fellow had to follow.
+
+"We're to have meals with the little ones in the schoolroom," said
+Brenda, to whom this new rule was not pleasing. "Come and get
+ready."
+
+Now that she was a schoolgirl, and only home for holidays, she had
+all her meals with her grandparents except late dinner; but the
+arrival of the Orbans put an end to this. It was felt that the
+perpetual presence of such a crowd of youngsters at meals would
+never do. To Brenda and Herbert the change was typical of the whole
+difference these unwelcome guests would make in their lives.
+
+"Couldn't we just have one look round first?" said Nesta, staring
+about her in proprietary admiration at the walls of the great hall,
+where hung the horns and weapons, the family portraits and
+trophies, of bygone Chases. "I would like just to see the secret
+chamber. Let me see--it must be through that door and up some
+steps--"
+
+She stopped inquiringly.
+
+"No, it isn't," Brenda said, with a look of surprise; "you go just
+the other way. But there isn't time now; Herbert and I will show
+you everything to-morrow."
+
+Nesta looked taken aback.
+
+"I don't expect I shall need much showing," she said, with a little
+air of importance.
+
+Her cousins both stared at her.
+
+"You certainly will," said Herbert decidedly; "it isn't at all an
+easy house to find one's way about in, I can tell you. You would go
+blundering into all sorts of places you oughtn't to."
+
+"Places we oughtn't to?" repeated Eustace in bewilderment.
+
+"Yes, the servants' quarters, you know," said Herbert, as if he
+were talking to a child of eight.
+
+"Aren't you allowed to go into the servants' quarters?" asked Nesta
+wonderingly.
+
+"Oh, we're _allowed_, of course," said Herbert; "but one doesn't
+go. I dare say things were rather mixed out with you, though."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Eustace abruptly.
+
+"Oh, you had to rough it rather, hadn't you?" said the elder boy.
+"I had a sort of idea you all had meals together."
+
+"With the servants?" questioned Eustace.
+
+"Yes," said Herbert, with perfect gravity.
+
+Eustace flushed deeply.
+
+"Oh, of course," he said, "coolies and every one had meals
+together. We all ate out of a trough."
+
+"Eustace!" exclaimed Nesta in dismay, wondering what had happened
+to him all of a sudden.
+
+The cousins stared at him blankly, hardly realizing for a moment
+what he had said.
+
+"Well, it is just as sensible as saying we had meals with the
+servants," said the boy, in such a tone of disgust that Herbert was
+left in no doubt as to his meaning.
+
+"You needn't be cheeky, youngster," he said; "you can't expect me
+to know your habits, can you? I do know people in the Colonies
+can't pick and choose their company, and have to make friends with
+cowboys and bushrangers, if they want any society."
+
+"What!" shouted the twins. "Who told you that?"
+
+"Oh, I've read it somewhere," Herbert said carelessly. "It said
+'there are no class distinctions in Colonial life. Men and women
+meet as equals.'"
+
+"Then it is rot," said Eustace briefly. "I don't know how you could
+believe it. Our friends were all gentlemen and ladies. Australians
+are as particular as you are whom they have for friends."
+
+"My good kid," said Herbert aggravatingly, "you don't know
+everything, and you haven't been everywhere in the Colonies, you
+know. But it really doesn't matter, does it? We were only saying
+one doesn't do that sort of thing in England. Come and wash for
+tea."
+
+The small passage of arms left neither boy much pleased with the
+other. Herbert foresaw that Eustace was likely to be uppish and
+cheeky, and would want keeping in his place. Eustace thought
+Herbert gave himself airs, and more than justified the criticism he
+had long accorded his portrait. He did not look it in real life,
+for Herbert was manly and unaffected in appearance. "All the
+same," thought Eustace, "he's a silly ass."
+
+Not so much what was said as the tone in which it was said left an
+unpleasant impression upon both new-comers. They had planned
+together that the very first thing they would do when they arrived
+would be to rush all over the house and see everything. Nesta
+declared she would not be able to sleep a wink for excitement if
+she did not. It had never occurred to them there would be barriers
+of any sort. Nothing in their own free lives hitherto had suggested
+baize doors through which they "ought not to go."
+
+Somehow those baize doors were suggestive of everything irksome and
+disappointing; they were of a piece with all the other changes
+which the twins began to feel from the outset.
+
+Before the evening was over Eustace and Nesta had grasped something
+of what coming to England really meant: it seemed a case of shut
+doors all round--there was no feeling of home about it. Rather,
+Eustace reflected bitterly, it was like prison, and all the freedom
+of existence was gone. It appeared that here the grown-ups lived in
+one part of the house, the children in another. There were certain
+times at which the drawing-room or dining-room might be visited,
+otherwise the grown-ups must not be interrupted. Becky and Peter
+were provided with a sort of jailer, whose business it also was to
+give all the young people their meals, and their mother seemed
+utterly ungetatable.
+
+Life on the veranda always together, always in the thick of
+everything that was going on, with no shut doors anywhere, had
+ill-prepared them for this.
+
+Then there were Herbert and Brenda.
+
+Strange to say, Eustace and Nesta had not thought of them as
+anything but some one to play with--other children staying in the
+same house as themselves. That they were really the son and
+daughter of the place had never occurred to the new-comers. That
+they would play the part of host and hostess, and treat the
+Australians entirely as visitors, was a shock to Eustace and Nesta.
+Not thus did they expect to be received into their mother's old
+home, which she had always taught them to look on as their own.
+
+Before the end of the day, however, they had realized this one
+thing very vividly--Herbert and Brenda had lived here all their
+lives, but the Orbans were outsiders, their very coldly-welcomed
+guests.
+
+"It is delightful," said Mrs. Orban, as she dressed for dinner, "to
+think of the children getting to know each other at last. I do hope
+they will be happy."
+
+"All the happier for being thrown so much together," said Mr.
+Orban. "We couldn't help it, of course, but ours have been thrown
+far too much with older people. This sort of thing is much
+healthier for them."
+
+"It is all hateful," wept Nesta to her pillow that night. "Herbert
+is a bully, and Brenda is a stuck-up pig--and I wish we had never
+come."
+
+And Eustace did not close his eyes for hours.
+
+"Bob was quite right," he thought. "English people are horrid; they
+freeze you right up the minute you see them. But oh! I believe it
+would be better if only there was a veranda. They do live in such a
+queer way, all divided up like this."
+
+Back into his mind there came the refrain of one of Bob's
+songs--the one he had sung to Aunt Dorothy the day of her arrival.
+He went to sleep with the tune ringing in his head,--
+
+    "Certain for darkies dis is not de place,
+    Where eben de sun am ashamed to show his face."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+PETER MAKES A DIVERSION.
+
+
+But for Peter and Becky schoolroom breakfast next morning would
+have been a very dismal and quiet affair, for the elder cousins had
+little to say to each other.
+
+Herbert and Brenda cudgelled their brains for topics of
+conversation to keep things going, and they thought they had never
+had any one so difficult to talk to in their lives. The Australian
+cousins seemed downright stupid and uninteresting. Just for one
+thing Brenda was thankful--they were not outwardly so unpresentable
+as she had anticipated.
+
+Nesta, still smarting under a sense of disappointment, had made a
+sullen resolution not to appear to want to know anything at all. In
+spite of Herbert's assurances she was quite sure she did know a
+great deal about the house and grounds. Brenda and he should see
+later that she did.
+
+Eustace held his tongue because he had literally nothing to say
+that was at all agreeable. They had begun the day by going into
+their mother's room to say good-morning.
+
+"O children," she had exclaimed when she saw them, "isn't it all
+lovely?"
+
+"It is, mummie," began Nesta in such a miserable voice that Eustace
+knew she was going on with a "but."
+
+There were tears of joy in Mrs. Orban's eyes. To her at least
+everything was perfect. Eustace was standing close to Nesta, and he
+gave her a surreptitious pinch that just nipped the complaint right
+off before the "but" could come out.
+
+"It is ripping, mother," he said. "I never thought it would be half
+so splendid."
+
+"I knew you would love it," said Mrs. Orban confidently; "and it is
+so jolly for you having Brenda and Herbert. If only--"
+
+She stopped, and her face had grown suddenly sad. There was always
+that "if only." The twins knew she was thinking of Aunt Dorothy.
+
+"Look here, Nesta," said Eustace in a low voice when they left the
+room, "don't you go grumbling to mother and spoiling everything for
+her, or you will be a selfish little pig."
+
+"But when things are horrid--" began Nesta.
+
+"It won't make them better to worry her," said Eustace shortly.
+
+"But how could you say it is splendid?" Nesta said with a choke.
+
+"Well, isn't it?" said Eustace. "I was thinking about the house and
+the park. It was not the people mother told us about before we
+came, but the place."
+
+"Grannie and grandfather are not a bit like what I thought," Nesta
+remarked in an aggrieved tone.
+
+"They are very beautiful," said Eustace in an awed voice. "They
+somehow match the house and everything in it, and it seems to make
+them much too grand for us."
+
+"I know Herbert and Brenda think _themselves_ much too grand for
+us," said Nesta crossly. "Fancy their thinking such silly things
+about the way we lived, just as if we weren't ladies and gentlemen!
+Why, last night, when Brenda told me we were to go in to dessert,
+she said, 'You know people always dress for dinner in England,' in
+that snubby way of hers; and I laughed right out, and said,
+'Goodness, father and mother dress for dinner every night at
+home.'"
+
+"I think they fancy we are sort of savages," said Eustace. "It
+makes me feel inclined to be one, and give them a shock."
+
+Dessert the evening before had proved a very dull affair, and the
+time in the drawing-room afterwards, playing halma with the
+cousins, was worse. They all four hailed bedtime with thankfulness.
+Never before had Eustace and Nesta felt so shut in--so pinned down
+and overawed. Never, thought Herbert and Brenda, had they met such
+queer, unresponsive children.
+
+At breakfast they found Becky entirely at home with her keeper, who
+had a grave kind of way of smiling down upon the small person and
+Peter.
+
+"You had better come and see the house now," said Herbert
+immediately after breakfast. "I'm going off rabbit-shooting later."
+
+"Not you, Master Peter," said nurse as Peter shot off his chair;
+"your hands and face are all sticky, and must be washed before you
+can do anything."
+
+The others did not offer to wait for him, so the crestfallen Peter
+was left behind, wondering why people wanted so much washing in
+England.
+
+Herbert and Brenda took the twins through the house as they might
+have conducted a party of sight-seers. Eustace accepted everything
+in silence, but Nesta did not. For instance,--
+
+"This is the picture gallery," said Herbert, "and all these people
+are our ancestors."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Nesta.
+
+"This is the room Queen Elizabeth is supposed to have slept in
+once--"
+
+"Oh yes, mother told us all about that," broke in Nesta; "and the
+bishop always sleeps here when he comes to hold confirmations in
+the neighbourhood."
+
+The party passed on in silence. This sort of thing was damping to
+the showman.
+
+"You see that group of swords over there," began Herbert, trying
+again as they reached the hall.
+
+"The middle one was the one Sir Herbert Chase killed the man with
+at Worcester and just saved the Prince's life, and you are called
+after him," said Nesta, anticipating the tale.
+
+Herbert mentally voted his cousin a bumptious brat of a girl.
+Eustace began to wish Nesta would stop showing off so palpably--it
+seemed small and silly.
+
+They passed an interesting looking door, and Nesta at once said,--
+
+"Oh, we're missing one. That must be the library, because of the
+double doors and the carved owl over them. Do let's go in."
+
+"Can't," said Herbert, glad to show some superior knowledge at
+least of the ways of the house if not of its contents. "Grandfather
+is always there all morning, and no one ever disturbs him."
+
+"That portrait over there is our great-great-grandfather," said
+Brenda in the dining-room.
+
+"No," said Nesta, shaking her head; "one more great.
+Great-great-great-grandfather, Eustace Chase."
+
+Brenda flushed with annoyance.
+
+"Well, I really think I ought to know," she said, "considering I've
+lived here all my life.--It is only great-great, isn't it,
+Herbert?"
+
+Herbert looked worried.
+
+"No, it is three greats," he said grudgingly.
+
+"I knew for certain," said Nesta.
+
+Brenda allowed Herbert to take up the _role_ of conductor awhile.
+Nesta was getting on her nerves. But presently, in the smaller
+drawing-room, they all came to a standstill in front of the picture
+of a beautiful little brown-haired girl.
+
+"That was Aunt Dorothy when she was little," said Brenda very low.
+
+Nesta knew this also, but she said nothing for once.
+
+Herbert led the way out of the house in silence.
+
+Out of doors Nesta displayed just the same irritating certainty of
+things. The sun-dial she noticed from a distance.
+
+"That has '_Sic transit vita_' on it," she said hurriedly, lest she
+should be forestalled. "Oh, and that tank is the little well place
+mother fell into when she was Becky's age."
+
+But she received a check later.
+
+"The good old swing and the giant's stride," she said with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"No--new ones," said Herbert with satisfaction; "the old ones were
+rotten, and these were put up for us."
+
+Nesta put her next venture in the form of a question.
+
+"Is that the summer-house mother and the aunts played dolls in?"
+
+"No," said Brenda, "that fell down. This is mine. Grandfather gave
+it me one birthday."
+
+Everything had the impress of the Dixon children--everything seemed
+to be "mine" or "Herbert's." It was a depressing morning for the
+Australians, though Nesta did flatter herself she must have clearly
+demonstrated her knowledge of Maze Court and pretty well surprised
+her cousins. It annoyed her that Eustace had been so dumb, and
+seemingly unable to say more than "yes" or "no" to things. It
+showed a lack of spirit about him she would not have expected after
+his sally about the troughs they fed out of with the coolies, and
+his assertion only that morning that he felt inclined to become a
+savage and astonish the Dixons.
+
+"I expect he's afraid of Herbert," she thought; "but I'm not."
+
+Eustace was not either, but he was just a little ashamed of his
+outburst of the evening before. Looked at by light of day it seemed
+unnecessary waste of temper. He thought Bob would not have thought
+much of him for it; it was rather babyish.
+
+Oh, how homesick he felt! What wouldn't he have given to have seen
+Bob walking down one of those wide paths towards them. Good old
+Bob! Poor old Bob! What would Brenda and Herbert think if they only
+knew all that story? It was enough to keep the boy silent to have
+such thoughts as these starting up in his memory again and again;
+enough to make him ashamed of any pettiness. But the thought of
+Bob alone had power to do that; he was so big, so splendid, such a
+man!
+
+Coming out of the gardens into the park they met nurse and Becky.
+
+"Oh," said nurse, looking flushed and flustered, "isn't Master
+Peter with you? I can't find him anywhere. I just left him while I
+went to dress Miss Becky, and never thought to tell him to wait for
+me."
+
+"Peter isn't used to staying in one room," said Eustace quietly. "I
+guess he is looking for us."
+
+"But it is very naughty of him," said the English nurse in
+vexation.
+
+"Peter wouldn't mean to be naughty," said Eustace in the same quiet
+tone; "but you see we are so used to be all together all day long
+on the veranda."
+
+"That's all very fine," said nurse, "but it doesn't find him for
+me. I just hope he won't come to some harm or do some mischief
+before I get him."
+
+"Could he come to any harm?" asked Nesta anxiously.
+
+"Well, there are ponds he could fall into, and places he could
+climb and tumble out of. And as to mischief--there are things
+everywhere he could handle and break," said the woman. "I never saw
+such an inquisitive little fidget as he is. He is all the time
+asking questions and wanting to touch everything he sees."
+
+There immediately began a hunt for Peter. Here, there, and
+everywhere they went in pairs, but nowhere could he be found. They
+called him, but there was no answer; they asked every one they
+met, but no one had seen him.
+
+Mrs. Chase was out driving with Mr. and Mrs. Orban; there seemed no
+one to appeal to.
+
+The search reminded Eustace of the story of the loss of Aunt
+Dorothy, and he went and looked in the turret and the secret
+chamber through the cupboard door; but Peter was not there.
+
+Nurse was becoming frantic, for of course she felt responsible for
+her charge. Eustace and Nesta began to be worried. Herbert was
+cross because this prevented his rabbit-shooting; he could not very
+well go away leaving such an anxious household as this. Brenda felt
+sorry both for him and for the twins, but said nothing.
+
+The search-party met in the hall, just as that other search-party
+had kept doing so many, many years ago, but there was never any
+news.
+
+"Can there be a secret chamber somewhere else?" said Nesta.
+
+Brenda shook her head.
+
+"I don't think so," she said.
+
+"I wish father would come home," Eustace thought miserably. "He
+might think of something."
+
+"We had better ask grandfather what is to be done," said Herbert at
+last in desperation.
+
+It was a last resource. Nothing but the most serious business was
+allowed to interrupt Mr. Chase's morning, but this had become
+sufficiently pressing to warrant the intrusion.
+
+In through the folding-doors trooped the anxious-looking searchers,
+Herbert first.
+
+"Well, I never!" he exclaimed, for there stood Peter as calm as
+you please, his hands behind him, staring at his grandfather across
+the broad writing-table.
+
+"Can you ride bareback?" he was inquiring in his shrill treble.
+"Bob can; but he said I mustn't try because it is slimy."
+
+"Slimy?" repeated Mr. Chase, with brows bent in perplexity.
+
+"Yes," said Peter, "sliddery, you know. A horse is a very slippery
+beast for short legs, Bob says."
+
+He went on quite regardless of the intruders, who stood watching in
+awed silence, because if Mr. Chase did not order Peter out of the
+room, it was no one's business to do so.
+
+"And who may this Bob be you keep quoting?" asked Mr. Chase--"a
+bushranger?"
+
+"No, he's our friend," replied Peter. "He is just Bob, you know,
+who comes to see us. Once Eustace and he were lost in the scrub.
+And Bob says Eustace is a--"
+
+"Peter!" exclaimed Eustace.
+
+"I wasn't going to say anything bad," said Peter. "I was only going
+to tell grandfather how you--"
+
+"Grandfather doesn't want to know," said Eustace, looking red and
+uncomfortable.
+
+Mr. Chase turned his bright blue eyes on Eustace; they were blue
+eyes, very like Peter's.
+
+"Perhaps grandfather does," he said firmly.--"Go on, Peter."
+
+"I can tell you better," said Eustace hurriedly. "It is only Bob
+was lost, and I got lost looking for him; and we thought some
+natives were going to kill us, but the chief wanted a reward, so
+he fetched father and Mr. Cochrane to take us home."
+
+Mr. Chase listened quietly. It was a tame little story, without
+much point to it told like that, but he had watched Eustace's
+sensitive face narrowly, and he asked no further questions.
+
+"I seem to be honoured with much company this morning," he said
+instead, looking round the group on the threshold. "What are you
+all doing, if I may ask?"
+
+"Looking for Peter, grandfather," explained Herbert uncomfortably,
+certain that Mr. Chase was annoyed. "We've been hunting for him for
+the last hour."
+
+"I've had the pleasure of his society for about that space of
+time," said Mr. Chase. "I have had to give an account of how many
+black men and how many Chinkees I employ about the place; whether I
+wouldn't rather live in Queensland if I had a hundred pounds of my
+own; and how long I sleep in the winter. I don't know why he wants
+to know that, I am sure."
+
+"Oh," said Peter quickly, "because Bob says people in England sleep
+like dormice in the winter, and have to be wakened by big knockers
+on the door."
+
+"I see," said Mr. Chase gravely, "your friend Bob seems to know
+more about England than I do--probably because I sleep right
+through the winter. Now, if you have asked everything you can think
+of, perhaps you will take your tribe away with you, Peter Perky."
+
+The twins jumped violently at the name, and stared at the speaker
+in astonishment. No one but Aunt Dorothy had ever called Peter
+that.
+
+"I should like to know if you roll up when you sleep, or lie flat,"
+Peter said, not feeling at all anxious to go. "Aunt Dorothy always
+called me a dormouse at night--"
+
+"You can go, Peter," interrupted Mr. Chase hurriedly; "I am busy."
+
+Herbert took the child by the shoulder and marched him out of the
+room.
+
+"Peter, how could you?" exclaimed Brenda, when they reached the
+schoolroom.
+
+"How could I what?" demanded Peter, looking puzzled.
+
+"Why, speak about poor Aunt Dorothy before grandfather," said the
+girl. "Nobody does; he can't bear it."
+
+"Can't he?" said Peter mildly; "but he asked me a lot of questions
+about her himself. And I told him how she called me Peter Perky,
+and all about her saving my life in the wreck."
+
+"What!" interrupted the cousins in a breath; "she did what?"
+
+"Didn't you know?" said Eustace.
+
+"We don't know anything except what that awful cable said," Brenda
+said in a low, shaky voice.
+
+Between them the twins and Peter told the whole story. Herbert sat
+at the table, his head buried in his hands. Brenda listened with
+her back to the speakers, looking away out of the window.
+
+There was a long pause.
+
+"Then," said Herbert huskily at last, "if it hadn't been for Peter,
+Aunt Dorothy would never have been drowned."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE LAST STRAW.
+
+
+The words fell like a thunderbolt into the midst of the group.
+Eustace moved involuntarily to Peter's side and put a protecting
+arm round him, as if he had been struck. The little fellow himself
+looked utterly bewildered.
+
+"How can you say such a wicked, wicked thing?" exclaimed Nesta in
+astonishment; "just as if it was poor Peter's fault."
+
+"Well, wasn't it?" demanded Herbert bitterly, his face still
+hidden. "If Peter hadn't been at the other side of the ship--if
+Aunt Dorothy had not had to go away and find him--but you all got
+into the boat and went away and left her!"
+
+"Don't!" exclaimed Eustace sharply. "You don't know what a wreck in
+the dark is like, or you wouldn't talk like that. There isn't time
+to know anything. We didn't know Aunt Dorothy was left."
+
+"I should have known," said Herbert, with all the confidence of
+ignorance, "and I would have stayed and drowned with her."
+
+He broke off short, rose abruptly, and stumbled in a queer, blind
+way from the room. He could not bear that any one should witness
+his grief.
+
+Brenda turned a tear-stained face from the window and stared at
+the trio now standing close together.
+
+"He isn't thinking what he is saying," she said chokily; "but we
+are so frightfully unhappy about Aunt Dorothy--and this seems to
+make it worse--I mean that she might so easily have been saved. Of
+course you didn't really know her, so you can't understand. But
+ever since our mother died Aunt Dorothy--"
+
+But here Brenda's voice broke utterly, and she, too, hurriedly left
+the room.
+
+"Well," exclaimed Nesta, "I think it just horrid of them. I shall
+never, never like them now."
+
+Eustace turned a pair of surprised brown eyes upon her.
+
+"Won't you?" he said wonderingly. "Why, I like them better than I
+did, ever so much."
+
+"What!" Nesta said, "you like them better for saying a horrid thing
+like that? To make out it was Peter's fault! Poor little Peter, who
+was so nearly drowned himself!"
+
+"It wasn't that part I was thinking of," said Eustace, "but just
+how they loved her. Somehow I never thought of it before. Same way
+we love mother, I guess; and I don't know what I should have
+thought if mother had been drowned saving some one else's brother."
+
+Nesta stared at him blankly. There were things about Eustace lately
+that she did not understand. She knew nothing of Bob's maxim about
+looking at two sides of a question, so she could see no reason for
+the strange things he sometimes said, and he was far too reticent
+to have explained.
+
+"Well, all I can say is, I wish we had never come," said Nesta for
+about the twentieth time. "Nothing is nice, and it will be more
+hateful than ever now they feel like that about Peter. We had
+better tell mother and father, and ask them to take us away."
+
+"What's that I hear?" said an astonished voice at the door.
+
+The children all jumped and turned round, for there stood their
+grandfather. They were speechless with dismay; they could not have
+pictured a worse thing happening.
+
+"What did you say, Nesta?" asked Mr. Chase again, in a tone that
+made the twins' hearts stand still.
+
+He looked angry, surprised, and very commanding. But how were they
+to repeat what they had been saying? Nesta remembered they had been
+warned not to speak of Aunt Dorothy before him. Eustace felt it
+would be mean and ungenerous to get Herbert into trouble behind his
+back. But Peter had no such scruples. Dropping his head into his
+arms on the table, he broke out sobbingly,--
+
+"Herbert says it was me drowned Aunt Dorothy."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Mr. Chase incredulously; "he surely never said
+such a thing? Explain this to me, Eustace, at once."
+
+His tone was so severe that the boy literally shook. He had never
+seen any one really angry in his life before.
+
+"He didn't say quite that," Eustace said with difficulty; "he only
+meant it was because of Peter."
+
+"Kindly give me his exact words," Mr. Chase said, still in that
+awful voice.
+
+Eustace closed his thin lips tight, with an expression that meant
+wild horses would not drag it from him. His grandfather scanned his
+face closely, then turned to Nesta.
+
+"As Eustace seems to have lost his tongue, I must ask you to tell
+me what Herbert said in exactly his own words."
+
+Nesta glanced furtively at her twin, but she was angry with Herbert
+and saw no reason why he should be protected.
+
+"He said," she replied, "if Peter had not been at the other side of
+the boat, and Aunt Dorothy had not had to go and find him, she
+wouldn't have been drowned. He said we all went away and left
+her--"
+
+"How dared he!" Mr. Chase thundered. "I am ashamed that a grandson
+of mine should have behaved in such a way. Whatever he thought, he
+had no right to say such a thing."
+
+"He--he was most fearfully unhappy," said Eustace nervously.
+
+"That is no excuse for his making other people so too," Mr. Chase
+replied. "Eustace, go and tell Herbert to come here at once."
+
+It was a disagreeable errand, and the boy whitened as he turned to
+obey. Mr. Chase's prompt, old-fashioned methods were something new
+to him. Fault-finding at home had always been reserved for quiet
+talks alone with father or mother; they were never made big public
+affairs like this.
+
+Eustace found Herbert in his own room pacing up and down the floor
+with his hands in his pockets. He had got control of himself by
+then, and he turned on his visitor with a look of impatient
+surprise.
+
+"What do you want?" he said.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," Eustace began lamely, "but you've got to come
+to grandfather. We were talking about what you said, and he came in
+without our hearing. He made us tell him the rest, and I'm afraid
+he--he is going to lecture you."
+
+"You--you told tales?" said Herbert scathingly. Without waiting for
+a reply he marched past his cousin to the schoolroom. Eustace could
+not bear to follow and see him humiliated. It would be just a
+little better for him with one person less present, he thought.
+
+"Grandfather was fearfully severe," said Nesta later, when she had
+found Eustace prowling about like a bear with a sore head alone in
+the grounds. "So you see it was a beastly thing to say. He said
+Herbert was no gentleman if he didn't apologize."
+
+"And did he?" asked Eustace shortly.
+
+"He said he was sorry if he hadn't behaved like a gentleman, and it
+shouldn't occur again. Most awfully stiffly he spoke, just like a
+grown-up, and then grandfather said he might go."
+
+"And that before you and Peter!" exclaimed Eustace in tones of
+disgust. "I'm jolly glad I wasn't there; it would have made me feel
+a low-down black-fellow if Herbert had apologized to me. I don't
+think Peter behaved like a white man, and I mean to tell him so,
+too, when I get him to myself."
+
+"Grandfather seems to have taken a fancy to Peter," said Nesta. "He
+had come up to fetch him when he overheard me. He said Peter had
+already broken his morning, and he had better have the rest of it
+and take him a walk. Brenda says she never knew him do such a
+queer thing before; he is not generally supposed to be fond of
+children, and that is why we have no meals downstairs."
+
+Every one was surprised at Mr. Chase's sudden partiality for Peter,
+but the reason was a very simple one. From Peter he could hear more
+about Miss Chase than from any one else. No tears choked little
+Peter's voice when he described Aunt Dorothy's first day, or told
+the story of her quaint mistakes. He quite forgot the sad part of
+her visit, and lost himself in his stories. The old man led him on
+from point to point, and learned all that he could of his beloved
+daughter's stay in Queensland without Peter's guessing what he was
+really doing.
+
+The little fellow was radiantly happy. They walked about the
+grounds together, and presently Mr. Chase said Peter must learn to
+ride--he would teach him himself. Accordingly, out went Peter on a
+little pony with Mr. Chase at its head, and the riding lessons
+began.
+
+"It doesn't look as if grandfather thought it was Peter's fault,"
+said Nesta to Eustace; "he seems fonder of him than any one."
+
+If Peter was content, not so the twins. The scene with Herbert had
+produced a very uncomfortable state of affairs. He no longer played
+the part of host, but kept out of his cousins' way as much as
+possible, going out on long expeditions by himself, and never
+joining the schoolroom party when he could help it.
+
+Nesta thought him detestable, but Eustace had a feeling that
+Herbert had been very hardly treated in his own home. He could not
+forget how genuine had been the big fellow's unhappiness over the
+awful loss of his beloved aunt, and Eustace could have forgiven
+much more than the outburst against Peter in the face of such real
+distress. But he had no chance of showing his sympathy; Herbert
+would have resented any exhibition of sentiment most haughtily.
+Eustace only felt exceedingly awkward whenever he was with him, and
+wished with all his heart he could awake to find all these
+unfortunate English experiences nothing but a bad dream.
+
+Between her loyalty to her brother and the sense of courtesy that
+bade her look after her cousins, Brenda had a very difficult course
+to steer; being proud and reserved by nature, she only succeeded in
+being exceedingly stiff in her attempts at civility to the twins.
+
+"It gets horrider and horrider," Nesta said after two or three days
+of it.
+
+But the secret treaty not to trouble their mother and disturb her
+enjoyment held good through everything.
+
+"It will come to an end in a year," Eustace said bravely; "and we
+couldn't bear it after we got back if we had to remember we had
+spoiled mother's trip. She has been longing for it such a long
+time."
+
+Because they saw so comparatively little of their mother, it was
+always possible to keep their grievances from her; and she was so
+certain her children must be sharing the pleasures with herself, it
+never occurred to her to suspect that anything was wrong.
+
+"It wouldn't be us spoiling her trip," Nesta objected; "it would be
+Brenda's and Herbert's faults, because they are so disagreeable."
+
+"It would be because of us," Eustace held out, "and I'll never
+forgive you if you go whining about it to mother or any one. We can
+bear it for a year, or we aren't worth anything."
+
+But even Eustace's courage received a check one evening when he and
+Nesta were called into their mother's room for a talk before she
+dressed for dinner. Her face was aglow with some pleasant thoughts,
+yet she was very serious--a strange mixture that immediately struck
+the twins as portending something very big and out of the way.
+
+"Chicks," she said, drawing them down on each side of her on
+the sofa, "I have got something very special to say to you
+to-day--something I scarcely know whether to be most glad or
+sorry about, for it cuts two ways. It fulfils the ambition of
+my life for you, and at the same time it costs me my twins."
+
+There was a breathless, expectant silence.
+
+"I think for you the happiness will outweigh the pain," she went on
+gently, "because it means new interests, new life, everything you
+must most desire. And, dears, we have to thank grandfather for it;
+he insists on sending you both to school."
+
+"To school!" shouted the twins simultaneously.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Orban said, "actually to school. He wishes you to have
+exactly the same advantages as Brenda and Herbert. Won't it be
+splendid for you?"
+
+There was dead silence. Mrs. Orban glanced from one grave face to
+the other. Nesta's was crumpled and bewildered; Eustace's very
+white, and his expression sadly strained.
+
+"Why, darlings," Mrs. Orban said, "you have always wanted to go to
+school. Hasn't it nearly made me cry again and again to hear you
+craving for a thing we could not give you? And now your wishes have
+been granted as it were by magic, I do believe you are not glad
+after all."
+
+There was such a ring of disappointment in their mother's voice
+that even Nesta was roused.
+
+"We've wanted it awfully," stammered Eustace awkwardly, "but we--we
+didn't think of it coming quite so soon."
+
+"Oh, is that it, you dears?" Mrs. Orban said in a tone between
+laughter and tears. "I was afraid something much worse was the
+matter--that you had changed your minds, for instance, or that you
+didn't like England after all; but of course that couldn't be."
+
+She spoke with such perfect certainty that the twins were dumb;
+they could think of nothing to say.
+
+"There really is rather a blessing in disguise in your going to
+school at once, though I can't bear parting with you," Mrs. Orban
+went on after a little silence. "I shall be quite close to you
+while you are still feeling strange in your new life; I shall hear
+all about everything from you by word of mouth in the holidays; and
+I shall go away next year feeling content that you are settled
+down, and likely to be nothing but a tiny bit mammy-sick at my
+departure."
+
+Eustace rubbed his head against her shoulder.
+
+"More than a tiny bit, mummie," he said.
+
+"We needn't think about that yet, though," said Mrs. Orban
+cheerily; "it is a long way off, with plenty of lovely times
+between. I only wish father had not to go so soon."
+
+"How soon?" queried Nesta sharply.
+
+"He says he must be off the end of this month," was the answer;
+"that is why the school-going has had to be settled so hurriedly.
+But he has a lovely dream for the future: before you have left
+school he hopes to be able to come to England for good and settle
+down here."
+
+"How long would it be before that, mother?" Eustace asked.
+
+"Oh, four or five years, perhaps," said Mrs. Orban.
+
+"But shan't we ever go back to Australia again?" Nesta said with a
+gulp.
+
+"You won't want to, my dear, once you get used to England," said
+her mother gently. "Of course it would not be possible for you to
+come home all that distance for holidays, but you will soon learn
+not to mind if you have our home-coming to look forward to. Now I
+will tell you a little about the schools you are going to."
+
+It was easy to listen with apparent interest to this, to put in a
+question here and there and glean all the information possible. But
+when the pair left the room Nesta suddenly gripped her brother's
+arm.
+
+"Eustace," she said huskily, "I--I can't bear it."
+
+"You just must," said the boy sturdily. "I guess there is nothing
+else to do."
+
+The words were so hopeless that Nesta's tears began to fall thick
+and fast, and he drew her almost roughly down the passage out of
+earshot. They reached the picture gallery, and sat down in a deep
+window-seat overlooking the front drive and the beautiful park
+beyond. Here Nesta buried her face in her hands and fairly sobbed.
+Eustace bore it for some seconds, then,--
+
+"Look here, old girl," he said, "don't be silly. You'll have a red
+nose for dessert."
+
+"I don't care," Nesta blurted out.
+
+"But you must care," Eustace said a little impatiently, "because
+then mother will see you have been crying and find out we're
+miserable."
+
+"I don't care," sobbed Nesta again. "I can't hide it any more, and
+I don't want to. I shall ask father to let me go home with him.
+Nothing will make me stay here with these--these horrid people."
+
+"Nesta!" Eustace exclaimed.
+
+"Well, I can't help it; they are horrid, even if they are our
+people. I never thought of them being anything like this. And I
+can't--I won't stay with them."
+
+"Rot," said Eustace angrily. "You know we can't help staying if
+every one says we are to."
+
+"Then," said Nesta, drawing herself up with a sudden attempt at
+dignity, "I shall run away."
+
+"Silly!" Eustace exclaimed irritably.
+
+"You'll see it isn't silly when I do it," said Nesta gloomily. "I
+shall tell father and mother everything about how horrid it is for
+us, and then if they won't take us home--"
+
+She stopped dramatically, leaving Eustace to fill in the threat for
+himself.
+
+"You really will tell mother, and spoil everything for her?" he
+asked in a low, angry tone.
+
+Nesta nodded defiantly.
+
+"Then you are a little beast," said Eustace furiously--"a cruel
+little beast."
+
+Nesta rose with her nose very high in the air.
+
+"Thank you," she said; "you are most awfully polite. I shall take
+care not to tell you anything ever again."
+
+Eustace knelt up on the seat, and leant out of the open window into
+the soft evening air. He was too angry to speak coherently, too
+bewildered to know what to say. With a toss of her head Nesta
+turned and left him.
+
+He heard her determined footsteps die away down the gallery, and
+knew he was meant to understand he had her sincerest disapproval. A
+few months earlier, he would presently have thrown off his sense of
+irritation and laughed at Nesta's little airs of importance.
+To-night he had no heart for the funny side of it. He was vexed to
+have lost his influence over Nesta, and worried at the thought of
+what an upset her headstrong course would make. Let alone his
+mother's disappointment, there would be the grandparents'
+indignation to reckon with, and Herbert's and Brenda's scornful
+surprise. They would indeed think them wild Bush children, and be
+justified in their present attitude of cool unfriendliness.
+
+Yet to be left in these uncongenial surroundings for a space of
+time that seemed like an eternity to a lad of fourteen; to be
+forced to remain with these unsympathetic companions for the next
+four or five years, with no one to turn to and without a home,
+meant desolation as complete for Eustace as for Nesta.
+
+Away in the park some rooks cawed fussily over the choice of their
+night quarters. Nearer, a blackbird piped an evening song. They
+sounded restless and plaintive to the lonely boy, and he hid his
+face in his hands, covering eyes and ears that he might see
+nothing, hear nothing. Then into his mind there surged a
+recollection of the dear old free days at home, never to come
+again. Right in the midst of every memory stood Bob--his friend Bob
+whom he would never see again. That was the thought that broke his
+spirit, and had he been a girl he would have cried; but Eustace
+shed no tears--this sorrow was beyond them, for a boy.
+
+Something hard suddenly struck him with a sharp tap on the
+shoulder, and, as he started back in surprise, fell with a clatter
+back on the gravel below.
+
+Then Eustace gasped, rubbed his eyes, and stared, feeling as if he
+must suddenly have taken leave of his senses; for there in the
+drive, his hand poised ready to throw another stone if the first
+had missed its mark, stood Bob Cochrane.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+BREAKING THE NEWS.
+
+
+Before the boy had recovered sufficiently to make a sound, Bob said
+in a low, distinct voice,--
+
+"Don't make a row, old man. It's all right; I'm not a ghost. I want
+you to get hold of your father for me without a soul knowing that
+you have seen me. Tell him I am waiting by the first drive gate,
+and want to speak to him at once. Mind no one else hears what you
+say. Seeing you is better luck than I expected."
+
+He turned and was walking rapidly away across the centre grass plot
+before Eustace quite realized this was no dream, but a solid truth,
+and that something was required of him.
+
+"Bob, Bob, how have you come here?" he called in a trembling voice.
+
+But the figure only half turned with a warning gesture, and passed
+resolutely on.
+
+For a moment the boy was rooted to the spot. Was this thing real?
+Could Bob possibly be there? The idea was incredible; yet his eyes,
+his ears, both bore witness to the fact. But how had it happened?
+what did it mean?
+
+With thoughts in a turmoil and heart beating to suffocation, he
+made his way to his father's dressing-room.
+
+"I say, father," he said breathlessly, putting his head round the
+door at the answer to his knock, "are you nearly dressed?"
+
+"All but my coat," said Mr. Orban, without turning from the glass
+where he was carefully arranging his evening tie. "Come in if you
+want to."
+
+There was an open door into the bedroom, where Eustace knew his
+mother was certain still to be.
+
+"I--I would rather speak to you out here," said the boy, "if you
+could be quick."
+
+Mr. Orban turned a surprised face.
+
+"Oh, if it is a secret I am sure mother will excuse our shutting
+the door," he said, and suited the action to the word. "Now come,
+out with it. Have you been getting into some scrape, old man?"
+
+The boy looked so extraordinarily white that Mr. Orban began to be
+afraid something serious had happened.
+
+"You are quite certain mother can't hear?" Eustace said in a low
+tone.
+
+"Perfectly," said Mr. Orban, looking more deeply perplexed, for
+hitherto Mrs. Orban had shared all secrets; in fact, the children
+had gone more readily to her with their troubles than to him,
+because he had so little time for such things. "There hasn't been
+any accident to one of the others?" he added sharply, struck by a
+new idea.
+
+"Oh no, no," Eustace said; "nothing like that. But, father," he
+went on, drawing very close, "I'm not to tell another soul--only
+you. Bob Cochrane is here. He is waiting for you down by the first
+drive gate, and wants to speak to you at once."
+
+"Bob Cochrane!" repeated Mr. Orban, blankly staring at the boy.
+"What are you talking about, child? You've been dreaming, or you've
+got a touch of fever."
+
+He passed his hand over Eustace's brow, and found it cool enough.
+
+"But it's the truth, father," Eustace said. "I thought I was
+dreaming myself, and it feels awfully strange still. I was kneeling
+at the window with my head in my hands, thinking--thinking about
+home"--his voice faltered a good deal over the words--"when some
+one hit me on the shoulder with a stone, and I looked down and saw
+Bob."
+
+"Impossible!" said Mr. Orban. "You've had a delusion because you
+were thinking about home. You were thinking so hard about Bob you
+fancied you saw him. Things like that do happen sometimes, you
+know. Bob is thousands of miles away, looking after the plantation;
+he couldn't by any earthly possibility be here."
+
+Mr. Orban spoke so certainly that Eustace's faith in his own reason
+almost wavered; but if vision it were, it had impressed him
+strongly.
+
+"I don't think I could have seen it so clearly if it had only been
+my own thought," he argued aloud. "Besides, he spoke; he said quite
+clearly, 'Don't make a row, old man; I'm not a ghost. I want you to
+get hold of your father for me without a soul knowing that you have
+seen me. Tell him I am waiting by the first drive gate, and want to
+speak to him at once. Mind no one else hears what you say. Seeing
+you is better luck than I expected.'"
+
+The words were branded on his memory by the shock he had received,
+and now it was Mr. Orban's turn to become white.
+
+"If it is so really," he said in an odd, unsteady voice, "he brings
+bad news. Something so bad has happened that he could not break it
+to me in a letter."
+
+It flashed into Eustace's mind that Bob had looked awfully grave
+and queer--if Bob it really were, and no delusion! Suppose his
+father should go to the gate and find no one awaiting him--what
+then?
+
+"You--you will go and see if he is there?" faltered the boy
+nervously.
+
+"I am going at once," said Mr. Orban. "When you are dressed
+yourself, go down into the drawing-room as usual, as if nothing had
+happened." He opened the door into Mrs. Orban's room and said
+lightly, "There's a man just called to see me, dear. If I happen to
+be detained, make my apologies to the old people, and ask them not
+to wait dinner for me."
+
+Mrs. Orban made a cheery, unsuspecting response, and he and Eustace
+left the room.
+
+The twins and the Dixon pair always assembled in the drawing-room
+with every one before dinner was served, and there they awaited the
+summons to dessert, as a rule with books, in dreary silence.
+
+When Eustace came down he found every one waiting for dinner. Mr.
+Orban was not yet in, and Mr. Chase would not hear of beginning the
+meal without him.
+
+"His friend can't in conscience keep him late at such an hour," he
+said. "Of course we will wait."
+
+No one was very talkative. It seemed to Eustace as if something of
+the coming shadow were creeping over the community before the bad
+news could even be dreamed of by any one except himself. There was
+just the sort of deadly calm and stillness over everything that
+comes before a thunderstorm.
+
+Nesta had curled herself up in a deep window-seat, well out of
+sight. Eustace guessed she had made such a fright of herself with
+crying she was afraid to show her face. He sat near the door into
+the great conservatory with a book, pretending to read. Really he
+could do nothing but wonder what terrible thing could be going to
+happen next.
+
+Presently, just when Mr. Chase was getting a little restless, and
+Mrs. Orban began anxiously watching the door, Mr. Orban came
+hurriedly into the room.
+
+"Forgive my being so late," he said in a voice that vibrated
+strangely; "but I am afraid I must detain you still for a few
+minutes. The fact is, a Queensland friend of mine has just turned
+up with--with some rather curious details about the wreck of the
+_Cora_. He thought it would pain us less to hear them by word of
+mouth than by letter, so he came himself."
+
+"Very good of him, I'm sure," said Mr. Chase, looking surprised.
+"Won't he stay and dine with us, and then afterwards--"
+
+"Oh, of course he must stay the night!" cried Mrs. Chase
+hospitably; "and this evening we can talk things over quietly when
+the children have gone to bed."
+
+"I think," said Mr. Orban, with a gravity that impressed every one
+deeply, "my friend would rather have his interview at once. He is
+anxious to get it over as soon as possible. I have asked him into
+the boudoir, Mrs. Chase. I thought we would talk there more quietly
+than here."
+
+"Certainly," said Mrs. Chase, rising and leading the way to the
+boudoir, which opened off the drawing-room.
+
+Every one looked utterly bewildered, and Mr. Chase just a little
+annoyed. It was most unprecedented that dinner should be so
+delayed. Eustace noticed his father whisper something to his
+mother; she started, flushed painfully, and he guessed Mr. Orban
+had told her who the visitor was.
+
+The boudoir door closed after the elders, and there was silence in
+the drawing-room. Herbert became restless, and wandered about the
+room opening books or fingering the ornaments in an aimless way;
+Nesta stared gloomily out of the window, and Brenda tried to read.
+
+Eustace could stand the inaction and the unsympathetic company no
+longer, so, getting up, he strolled into the sweet-smelling
+conservatory to be alone.
+
+There were scents there that always wafted him in memory back
+home--he loved the warmth and the plants. There was a large oval
+stage covered with flowers in the centre, and round this he
+strolled towards the outer door.
+
+So it was about the wreck Bob had come to speak. What more painful
+news could he have to bring than they already knew? The boy's
+common sense told him that the details must have to do with the
+death of Aunt Dorothy; nothing of less importance could have
+brought Bob over. Perhaps he had met an eye-witness of the tragedy!
+Perhaps there were last messages from the drowned girl!
+
+Eustace turned a corner and came to an abrupt standstill. It seemed
+to him in that instant as if his very heart stopped beating and his
+hair stood straight on end.
+
+It was absurd, of course. Bob had turned out to be no mere creation
+of his own brain, but this could be nothing else. Here was proof
+positive of Mr. Orban's words that one has but to think hard enough
+about a person to imagine one sees him.
+
+With her back to the outer door--a white figure with a face as
+colourless as her dress--stood Dorothy Chase; nothing about her was
+lifelike except the familiar deep-brown eyes that gazed steadfastly
+on the startled boy.
+
+It was an extraordinarily vivid hallucination, and not a little
+terrifying. Was it no fancy? Could it possibly be Aunt Dorothy's
+spirit come to visit her old home again? The thought leapt into the
+boy's mind.
+
+Eustace was no coward, but the notion fairly paralyzed him; he
+could not have moved to save his life. One supreme effort he made.
+
+"Aunt Dorothy," he whispered hoarsely, and could say no more, for
+his lips were parched, his throat was dry.
+
+The vision raised a warning hand.
+
+"Hush!" she said; "don't be frightened. I see Bob has not told you
+yet; but it is all right, darling. I am a real live human being,
+and no spirit. Just Aunt Dorothy come back to you safe and sound."
+
+The words seemed to come from far away, and Eustace felt so queer
+he swayed to try and keep his balance. He was so giddy he must have
+fallen had the vision not swept forward and caught him. The feeling
+of those strong arms about him, the warm touch of Aunt Dorothy's
+face bent down to his, brought him with a jerk to himself again,
+and he did not faint. But even then he could not believe his
+senses.
+
+"I don't understand," he gasped, shaking from head to foot in her
+arms; and he pressed his face tight against her shoulder to try and
+recover himself.
+
+"Poor old chap!" said Aunt Dorothy, "how I have upset you! I never
+meant any of you to see me till you knew. Bob is breaking the news
+to father and mother gently. We were afraid the shock of joy would
+be too much for them, so we did not even cable, but came at once. A
+letter would have got here very little sooner than ourselves."
+
+She talked on in a soft, soothing voice to give the boy time to
+pull himself together, and all the time she held him close.
+
+"You--you weren't drowned," Eustace managed to blurt out.
+
+"Very nearly, but not quite," was the reply; "my escape was like a
+miracle. Ah, here comes Bob at last."
+
+"Have I seemed an awful time?" said Bob gently. "It was a difficult
+thing to do. Come--they are waiting for you."
+
+The pair passed swiftly up the conservatory into the drawing-room.
+
+Herbert was standing by the mantelpiece examining a piece of
+valuable Sevres china. As the stranger, accompanied by that white
+figure, crossed the room to the boudoir, the ornament fell with a
+crash, to be splintered into twenty pieces on the fender.
+
+"Oh, what was that?" cried Brenda, starting to her feet and gazing
+after the apparition.
+
+"It's Aunt Dorothy," said Eustace from the conservatory. "She was
+never drowned at all."
+
+"What!" said Herbert sharply. "You are dreaming."
+
+"Then we are all dreaming," said Eustace gravely. "You saw her for
+yourself."
+
+It would be impossible to describe the scene that followed. When
+the boudoir door opened and the grown-ups all trooped out, headed
+by Aunt Dorothy, the commotion was beyond words. From the midst of
+it Mr. Chase slipped away, to return with Peter in his arms. Peter
+was in pyjamas and dressing-gown, rosy, and fresh roused from
+sleep.
+
+"We can't let him be out of it all," said Mr. Chase. "I have told
+him of our joyful surprise, and he takes it quite calmly."
+
+"Peter would," said Miss Chase, taking the wee fellow in her arms.
+
+"I'm very glad I didn't drown you," Peter said serenely.
+"Herbert--"
+
+But he finished the sentence in an incoherent yell, kicking out
+right and left.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Dorothy in surprise.
+
+"Eustace pinched my bare leg," Peter said irately, wriggling to the
+ground in order to avenge himself.
+
+Eustace caught his wrists, and bending low, whispered,--
+
+"You are not to tell tales. I told you that the other day. You
+don't want to be a low-down black-fellow, do you?"
+
+Peter's face was crumpled with anger, and there is no saying what
+he would have done if Bob had not exclaimed,--
+
+"Hulloa, Peter! haven't you a word for me?"
+
+The shock was complete. Mr. Chase had not mentioned Bob's arrival,
+and Peter was wholly unprepared for seeing him.
+
+"Bob!" he shouted, "good old Bob!" and sprang like a young cat at
+the big fellow, who caught him skilfully.
+
+"When you have quite done throttling me I shall be glad," said Bob,
+after enduring the embrace of the merciless little arms a moment.
+
+"But how did you get here?" demanded Peter of the long memory.
+"Were you bewitched over to England?"
+
+"Come, come," said Mr. Chase; "dinner first and stories afterwards.
+We shall have to eat cinders as it is, I expect, and cook will give
+notice to-morrow."
+
+"Every one must come into the dining-room, father," laughed Aunt
+Dorothy; "I can't part with one of you yet. We will talk while we
+eat."
+
+In a moment everything seemed changed. All the severity had faded
+from the old people's faces; they could not have looked more
+delightfully "grannyish" if they had tried. The dreadful barriers
+of formality were broken down; no noisier, freer family party had
+ever gathered in the Queensland home than the one that peopled the
+stately old dining-room that night.
+
+"This," whispered Brenda to Nesta, "is how we always were before
+Aunt Dorothy went away. Now you can see why we missed her."
+
+The change was something like a fairy tale to the Bush children;
+every one seemed suddenly "magicked" into different beings. This,
+then, was home as mother had known it.
+
+The story of Aunt Dorothy's rescue held the table spellbound; the
+very butler and footman forgot their duties as they listened.
+
+It appeared that, having jumped into the water with Peter, Dorothy
+struck out as fast as possible to swim away from the ship, keeping
+a grip of the little fellow as best she could. But in the terrible
+commotion that occurred on the going down of the _Cora_ she lost
+her grasp, and Peter was swept away from her into the inky
+blackness of the night.
+
+She swam, floated, called, it seemed to her for ages, but all in
+vain, and at last, in a state of utter exhaustion, she gave herself
+up merely to the thought of keeping afloat. She must have been many
+hours in the water, but, losing consciousness after a while, her
+next experience was to find herself on board a vessel of some
+sort--a schooner it turned out to be on her way out to the reefs
+for beche-de-mer fishing.
+
+"Why, we saw her!" exclaimed Eustace. "Mother, that must have been
+the boat we saw far away out to sea. The captain of the station
+told us it was theirs."
+
+"They must have picked me up soon after dawn, before the turn of
+the tide," said Aunt Dorothy. "I think when I came to my senses and
+saw the kind of people I was among, I was more frightened than I
+had been even by the wreck. Most of them were black-fellows--the
+rest I have since discovered were Portuguese; but not a soul in all
+that uncouth crowd could speak English or understand a word I
+said."
+
+"It was pretty terrifying," Bob agreed.
+
+"They therefore did not know where I came from, where I wanted to
+go, or anything about me. I kept imploring them to take me back to
+land; but this, though they must have understood my signs, they
+refused to do."
+
+"What brutes!" exclaimed Herbert hotly.
+
+"They are a low-grade lot," said Bob in his quaint Colonial way,
+"but you know they can only get the beche-de-mer at certain tides.
+It would have meant a dead loss to them to have put back, and
+probably they were working under contract, bound to supply a
+certain amount at a given time to their Chinkee employers."
+
+"But it was horrid of them," said Nesta, who had recovered herself
+entirely in the excitement, and was inclined to agree even with
+Herbert for once.
+
+"It was a real adventure, wasn't it?" Eustace said, appealing to
+Bob.
+
+"Rather more of one than I bargained for," said Aunt Dorothy. "But
+in their own rough way the men tried to be kind to me. The food we
+had was disgusting, the boat dreadfully fishy, oily, and dirty;
+there was not a possibility of being comfortable day or night. But
+I have nothing to grumble at. They took me back safe and sound to
+the beche-de-mer station at last, and there I heard all about you,
+even to the saving of Peter. All the discomforts and horrors put
+together were nothing to my suspense about your fates till then."
+
+The rest of the story was simple enough. Finding the Orbans had
+left Cooktown, Miss Chase instantly communicated with Bob, and
+together they arranged the plan for the home-coming. Their chief
+aim was to convey the good news as gently as possible, and they
+certainly achieved their end.
+
+"I don't know how I could have borne the waiting had you cabled,"
+Mrs. Chase said. "I should have suffered agonies imagining fresh
+accidents that might happen to you all the time."
+
+"Dorothy has become quite an experienced traveller one way and
+another," said Mr. Chase. "You little thought, my dear, when you
+set out so gaily from here, what a stormy life you were embarking
+upon."
+
+"I should think you would be terrified ever to go there again,"
+said Brenda.
+
+"On the contrary," said Bob Cochrane, "I hope your aunt will feel
+encouraged to return before long. What was the compact, Peter? She
+was to come back and be burnt as a witch, wasn't she?"
+
+"Not yet awhile," said Mr. Chase gravely. "You can't expect us to
+part with her for some little time to come."
+
+"Of course not, sir," said Bob genially.
+
+And then he and Dorothy just glanced at each other and laughed with
+a strange kind of joyousness that mystified the Dixons; but Eustace
+looked hard at Nesta and nodded meaningly.
+
+Bob's face was no longer haggard and drawn; it wore its old,
+habitual expression of steadfast happiness.
+
+The party did not break up till "disgracefully late," as Mr. Chase
+put it. Peter was carried by his mother asleep to bed. The twins
+and the Dixons felt so wide awake they fancied they would not close
+an eye all night.
+
+Mr. Chase laughed when he heard the story of the Sevres ornament.
+
+"I'm not surprised you were startled," he said kindly; "but please
+try to have something a little less valuable in your hands next
+ghost you meet."
+
+"Nesta," said Eustace, following his twin to her door, "what are
+you going to do now? Shall you tell mother?"
+
+"Tell mother what?" asked Nesta, with well-feigned astonishment.
+
+"Why, that you are miserable, and won't stay, and all that stuff,"
+was the reply.
+
+"Of course not, silly," Nesta retorted. "Any one can see everything
+is going to be quite different now Aunt Dorothy has come."
+
+"Of course, silly," said Eustace, in a mocking tone, and they both
+laughed.
+
+"Good-night, you two," said a voice along the passage, and Herbert
+turned off into his own room.
+
+"I'm coming to brush my hair in your room to-night," said Brenda,
+bearing down upon them, brush and comb in hand.
+
+Eustace passed on.
+
+"It is all different already," he said softly. "I think Bob has
+been right all along--Aunt Dorothy has bewitched us, every one."
+
+
+THE END.
+
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