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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: Explorers of the Dawn + +Author: Mazo de la Roche + +Release Date: May 2, 2008 [EBook #25283] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXPLORERS OF THE DAWN *** + + + + +Produced by Charlene Taylor, Matt Whittaker and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p>***Transcriber's Notes: The partial phrase–"Child, it shall not be +done," consoled the–appears naturally in the original version on page 191 +(Chapter VII, section II), and in a printer's error, is inserted between +two halves of a hyphenated word on page 204; the latter was omitted. The +use of hyphens in words was made consistent throughout. Variant spelling +and dialect was faithfully preserved.***</p> +<hr /> + + +<h1>Explorers of the Dawn</h1> + + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center"><strong><i>NEW BORZOI NOVELS +SPRING, 1922</i></strong></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">Wanderers</span><br /> + <i>Knut Hamsun</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">Men of Affairs</span><br /> + <i>Roland Pertwee</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">The Fair Rewards</span><br /> + <i>Thomas Beer</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">I Walked in Arden</span><br /> + <i>Jack Crawford</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">Guest the One-eyed</span><br /> + <i>Gunnar Gunnarsson</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">The Garden Party</span><br /> + <i>Katherine Mansfield</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">The Longest Journey</span><br /> + <i>E. M. Forster</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">The Soul of a Child</span><br /> + <i>Edwin Björkman</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">Cytherea</span><br /> + <i>Joseph Hergesheimer</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">Explorers of the Dawn</span><br /> + <i>Mazo de la Roche</i></small></p> + +<p class="center"><small><span class="sc">The White Kami</span><br /> + <i>Edward Alden Jewell</i></small></p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h1>Explorers of the Dawn</h1> + +<p class="center">by Mazo de la Roche<br /> +With a Foreword by<br /> +Christopher Morley</p> + +<p class="center">New York<br /> +Alfred A Knopf<br /> +1922</p> + +<br /><br /> +<p class="center"><i>Published February, 1922</i><br /> +<i>Second Printing, March, 1922</i><br /> +<i>Third Printing, May, 1922</i></p> +<br /><br /> + +<p class="center"><i>Set up, electrotyped, and printed by the Vail-Ballou Co., Binghamton, N. Y.<br /> +Paper supplied by W. F. Etherington & Co., New York, N. Y.<br /> +Bound by the Plimpton Press, Norwood, Mass.</i></p> + +<p class="center">MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> + +<br /><br /><br /> + + +<blockquote><p><i>But a short while ago, A. de la R. +laughed with me over the adventures +of these little fellows. To the memory +of that happy laughter I dedicate the +book.</i></p> + +<p class='right'><i>M. de la R.</i></p></blockquote> + + + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td><small>CHAPTER</small> </td><td> </td><td><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td>I</td><td><a href="#ch1"><span class="sc">Buried Treasure</span></a></td><td>15</td></tr> + +<tr><td>II</td><td><a href="#ch2"><span class="sc">The Jilt</span></a></td><td>52</td></tr> + +<tr><td>III</td><td><a href="#ch3"><span class="sc">Explorers of the Dawn</span></a></td><td>76</td></tr> + +<tr><td>IV</td><td><a href="#ch4"><span class="sc">A Merry Interlude</span></a></td><td>99</td></tr> + +<tr><td>V</td><td><a href="#ch5"><span class="sc">Freedom</span></a></td><td>127</td></tr> + +<tr><td>VI</td><td><a href="#ch6"><span class="sc">D'ye Ken John Peel</span></a></td><td>160</td></tr> + +<tr><td>VII</td><td><a href="#ch7"><span class="sc">Granfa</span></a></td><td>187</td></tr> + +<tr><td>VIII</td><td><a href="#ch8"><span class="sc">Noblesse Oblige</span></a></td><td>219</td></tr> + +<tr><td>IX</td><td><a href="#ch9"><span class="sc">The Cobbler and His Wife</span></a></td><td>250</td></tr> + +<tr><td>X</td><td><a href="#ch10"><span class="sc">The New Day</span></a></td><td>276</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<h3><i>FOREWORD</i></h3> + +<p><i>The publisher has asked me to write a note of introduction to this book. +Surely it needs none; but it is a pleasant task to write prefaces for other +people's books. When one writes a preface to a book of one's own, one +naturally grovels, deprecates, and has no opportunity to call the friendly +reader's attention to what the author considers the beauties and +significances of the work. How agreeable, then, to be able to do this +service for another.</i></p> + +<p><i>Moreover, one hopes that such a service may not be wholly vain. Every +book has its own special audience, for whom—very likely unconsciously—it +was written: the group of people, far spread over the curve of earth, who +will find in that particular book just the sort of magic and wisdom that +they seek. And, as every one who has studied the book business knows, books +very often tragically miss just the public that was waiting for them. It is +such an obscure and nebulous problem, getting the book into the hands of +the people to whom it will appeal. One knows that there are thousands of +readers for whom that book (whatever it may be) will mean keen pleasure. +But how is one to find them and bring the volume to their eyes?</i></p> + +<p><i>I owe to the "Atlantic Monthly" my own introduction to Miss de la +Roche's writing. Several years ago, when I was acting as a modest periscope +for a publishing house, I read in the "Atlantic" a fanciful little story by +her which seemed to me so delicate and humorous in fancy, so refreshing and +happy in expression, that I wrote to the author in the hope of some day +luring her to offer a book to the house with which I was connected. We had +some pleasant correspondence. Time passed: I fell from the placid ramparts +of the publishing business, into the more noisy but not less happy bustle +of the newspaper world. But still, though I am not a conscientious +correspondent, I managed to keep occasionally in touch with Miss de la +Roche. For a while I seemed highly unsuccessful as her ambassador into the +high court of publishing. Then, one day, lunching with Mr. Alfred Knopf at +a small tavern on Vesey Street (which was subsequently abolished by the New +York City Health Department as being unfit to offer what one of the small +boys in this book calls "nushment") I happened to tell him about Miss de la +Roche's work. I saw his eye, an eye of special clarity and brilliance, +widen and darken with that particular emotion exhibited by a publisher who +feels what is vulgarly known as a "hunch." He said he would "look into" the +matter; and this book is the result.</i></p> + +<p><i>The phrase "look into" is perhaps appropriate as applied to this book. +For it is one of those books where the eye of the attentive reader sees +more than a mere sparkling flow of words on a running surface of narrative. +Of course this is not one of those books that "everybody</i> must <i>read." +It is not likely to become fashionable. But it seems to me so truly +charming, so felicitous in subtle touches of humour, so tenderly moved with +an under-running current of wistfulness, that surely it will find its own +lovers; who will be, perhaps, among those who utter the names of Barrie and +Kenneth Grahame with a special sound of voice.</i></p> + +<p><i>Perhaps, since I myself was one of a family of three boys, the story of +Angel, Seraph and John, makes a prejudicial claim upon my affection. I must +admit that it is evident the author of the book was never herself a small +boy: sometimes their imperfections are a little too perfect, too femininely +and romantically conceived, to make me feel one of them. They have not +quite the rowdy actuality of Mr. Tarkington's urchins. But the, fact that +the whole story is told with a poet's imagination, and viewed through a +golden cloud of fancy, gives us countervailing beauties that a strictly +naturalistic treatment would miss. Let us not forget that we are in a +"Cathedral Town"; and next door is a Bishop. And certainly in the vigorous +and great-hearted Mary Ellen we stand solidly on the good earth of human +nature "as is."</i></p> + +<p><i>It is not the intention of the introducer to anticipate the reader's +pleasure by selfishly pointing out some of the dainty touches of humour +that will arouse the secret applause of the mind. One thing only occurs to +be said. The scene of the tale is said to be in England. And yet, to the +zealous observer, there will seem to be some flavours that are hardly +English. The language of the excellent Mary Ellen, for instance, comes to +me with a distinct cisatlantic sound. Nor can I, somehow, visualize a +planked back garden in an English Cathedral Town. I am wondering about +this, and I conclude that perhaps it is due to the fact that Miss de la +Roche lives in Toronto, that delightful city where the virtues of both +England and America are said to be subtly and consummately blended. Her +story, as simple and refreshing as the tune of an old song, and yet so +richly spiced with humour, perhaps presents a blend of qualities and +imaginations that we would only find in Canada; for the Canadians, after +all, are the true Anglo-Americans. Perhaps they do not like to be called +so? But I mean it well: I mean that they combine the good qualities of both +sides.</i></p> + +<p><i>And so one wishes good fortune to this book in its task—which every +book must face for itself—of discovering its destined friends. There will +be some readers, I think, who will look through it as through an open +window, into a land of clear gusty winds and March sunshine and volleying +church bells on Sunday mornings, into a land of terrible contradictions, a +land whose emigrés look back to it tenderly, yet without too poignant +regret—the Almost Forgotten Land of childhood.</i></p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Christopher Morley.</span></p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch1">Chapter I: Buried Treasure</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Probably our father would never have chosen Mrs. Handsomebody to be our +governess and guardian during the almost two years he spent in South +America, had it not seemed the natural thing to hand us over to the +admirable woman who had been his own teacher in early boyhood.</p> + +<p>Had he not been bewildered by the sudden death of our young mother, he +might have recalled scenes between himself and Mrs. Handsomebody that would +have made him hesitate to leave three stirring boys under her entire +control. Possibly he forgot that he had had his parents, and a doting aunt +or two, to pad the angularities of Mrs. Handsomebody's rule, and to say +whether or not her limber cane should seek his plumpest and most tender +parts.</p> + +<p>Then, too, at that period, Mrs. Handsomebody was still unmarried. As Miss +Wigmore she had not yet captured and quelled the manly spirit of Mr. +Handsomebody. From being a blustering sort of man, he had become, Mary +Ellen said, very mild and fearful.</p> + +<p>On his demise Mrs. Handsomebody was left in solitary possession of a tall, +narrow house, in the shadow of the grey Cathedral in the rather grey and +grim old town of Misthorpe. Here, Angel and The Seraph and I were set down +one April morning, fresh from the country house, where we had been born; +our mother's kisses still warm, one might say, on our round young cheeks.</p> + +<p>Unaccustomed to restraint, we were introduced into an atmosphere of +drabness and restraint, best typified, perhaps, by the change from our +tender, springy country turf, to the dry, blistered planks of Mrs. +Handsomebody's back yard. Angel, fiery, candid, inconstant; the careless +possessor of a beautiful boys' treble, which was to develop into the +incomparable tenor of today—next, myself, a year younger, but equally tall +and courageous, in a more dogged way—then, The Seraph, three years my +junior, he was just five, following where we led with a blind loyalty, +"Stubborn, strong and jolly as a pie."</p> + +<p>Truly when I think of us, as we were then, and when I remember how we came +like a wild disturbing wind into that solemn house, I am inclined to pity +Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>Even when she sent us to bed in the colossal four-poster, in the middle of +the afternoon, we were scarcely downcast, for it was not such a bad +playground after all, and by drawing the curtains, we could shut ourselves +completely away from the world dominated by petticoats.</p> + +<p>Then there was Mary Ellen, with her "followers," always our firm ally, +brimming with boisterous good health. Looking back, I am convinced that +Mrs. Handsomebody deserves our sympathy.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>It was Saturday morning, and we three were in Mrs. Handsomebody's +parlour—Angel, and The Seraph, and I.</p> + +<p>No sooner had the front door closed upon the tall angular figure of the +lady, bearing her market basket, than we shut our books with a snap, ran on +tiptoe to the top of the stairs, and, after a moment's breathless +listening, cast our young forms on the smooth walnut bannister, and glided +gloriously to the bottom.</p> + +<p>Regularly on a Saturday morning she went to market, and with equal +regularity we cast off the yoke of her restraint, slid down the bannisters, +and entered the forbidden precincts of the Parlour.</p> + +<p>On other week days the shutters of this grim apartment were kept closed, +and an inquisitive eye, applied to the keyhole, could just faintly discern +the portrait in crayon of the late Mr. Handsomebody, presiding, like some +whiskered ghost, over the revels of the stuffed birds in the glass case +below him.</p> + +<p>But on a Saturday morning Mary Ellen swept and dusted there. The shutters +were thrown open, and the thin-legged piano and the haircloth furniture +were furbished up for the morrow. Moreover Mary Ellen liked our company. +She had a spooky feeling about the parlour. Mr. Handsomebody gave her the +creeps, she said, and once when she had turned her back she had heard one +of the stuffed birds twitter. It was a gruesome thought.</p> + +<p>When we bounded in on her, Mary Ellen was dragging the broom feebly across +the gigantic green and red lilies of the carpet, her bare red arms moving +like listless antennæ. She could, when she willed, work vigorously and +well, but no one knew when a heavy mood might seize her, and render her as +useless as was compatible with retaining her situation.</p> + +<p>"Och, byes!" she groaned, leaning on her broom. "This Spring weather do be +makin' me as wake as a blind kitten! Sure, I feel this mornin' like as if +I'd a stone settin' on my stomach, an' me head feels as light as +thistledown. I wisht the missus'd fergit to come home an' I could take a +day off—but there's no such luck for Mary Ellen!"</p> + +<p>She made a few more passes with her broom and then sighed.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll soon be lavin' this place," she said.</p> + +<p>A vision of the house without the cheering presence of Mary Ellen rose +blackly before us. We crowded round her.</p> + +<p>"Now, see here," said Angel masterfully, putting his arms about her stout +waist. "You know perfectly well that father's coming back from South +America soon to make a home for us, and that you are to come and be our +cook, and make apple-dumplings, and have all the followers you like."</p> + +<p>Now Angel knew whereof he spoke, for Mary Ellen's "followers" were a bone +of contention between her and her mistress.</p> + +<p>"Aw, Master Angel," she expostulated, "What a tongue ye have in yer head to +be sure! Followers, is it? Sure, they're the bane o' me life! Now git out +av the way o' the dust, all of yez, or I'll put a tin ear on ye!" And she +began to swing her broom vigorously.</p> + +<p>We ran to the window and looked out but no sooner had we looked out than we +whistled with astonishment at what we saw.</p> + +<p>First you must know that on the west of Mrs. Handsomebody's house stood the +broad, ivy-clad mansion of the Bishop, grey stone, like the Cathedral; on +the east was a dingy white brick house, exactly like Mrs. Handsomebody's. +In it lived Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Pegg and their three servants.</p> + +<p>To us they seemed very elegant, if somewhat uninteresting people. Mrs. +Mortimer Pegg frequently had carriage callers, and not seldom sallied forth +herself in a sedate victoria from the livery stables. But beyond an +occasional flutter of excitement when their horses stopped at our very +gate, there was little in this prim couple to interest us. So neat and +precise were they as they tripped down the street together, that we called +them (out of Mrs. Handsomebody's hearing) Mr. and Mrs. "Cribbage" Pegg.</p> + +<p>Now, on this morning in mid-spring when we looked out of the window our +eyes discovered an object of such compelling interest in the Pegg's front +garden that we rubbed them again to make sure that we were broad awake.</p> + +<p>Striding up and down the small enclosure was a tall old man wearing a +brilliant-hued, flowered dressing-gown, that hung open at the neck, +disclosing his long brown throat and hairy chest, and flapping negligently +about his heels as he strode.</p> + +<p>He had bushy iron-grey hair and moustache, and tufts of curly grey beard +grew around his chin and ears. His nose was large and sun-burned; and every +now and again he would stop in his caged-animal walk and sniff the air as +though he enjoyed it.</p> + +<p>I liked the old gentleman from the start.</p> + +<p>"Oo-o! See the funny old man!" giggled The Seraph. "Coat like Jacob an' his +bwethern!"</p> + +<p>Angel and I plied Mary Ellen with questions. Who was he? Did he live with +the Peggs? Did she think he was a foreigner? Mary Ellen, supported by her +broom, stared out of the window.</p> + +<p>"For th' love of Hiven!" she ejaculated. "If that ain't a sight now! Byes, +it's Mr. Pegg's own father come home from somewheres in th' Indies. Their +cook was tellin' me of the time they have wid him. He's a bit light-headed, +y'see, an' has all his meals in his own room—th' quarest dishes iver—an' +a starlin' for a pet, mind ye."</p> + +<p>At that moment the old gentleman perceived that he was watched, and +saluting Mary Ellen gallantly, he called out:</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, madam!"</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen, covered with confusion, drew back behind the curtain. I was +about to make a suitable reply when I saw Mrs. Mortimer Pegg, herself, +emerge from her house with a very red face, and resolutely grasp her +father-in-law's arm. She spoke to him in a rapid undertone, and, after a +moment's hesitation, he followed her meekly into the house.</p> + +<p>How I sympathized with him! I knew only too well the humiliation +experienced by the helpless male when over-bearing woman drags him +ignominiously from his harmless recreation.</p> + +<p>A bond of understanding seemed to be established between us at once.</p> + +<p>The voice of Mary Ellen broke in on my reverie. She was teasing Angel to +sing.</p> + +<p>"Aw give us a chune, Master Angel before th' missus gets back! There's a +duck. I'll give ye a pocket full of raisins as sure's fate!"</p> + +<p>Angel, full of music as a bird, could strum some sort of accompaniment to +any song on the piano. It was Mary Ellen's delight on a Saturday morning to +pour forth her pent up feelings in one of the popular songs, with Angel to +keep her on the tune and thump a chord or two.</p> + +<p>It was a risky business. But The Seraph mounted guard at the window while I +pressed my nose against the glass case that held the stuffed birds and +wondered if any of them had come from South America. "How jolly," I +thought, "to be there with father."</p> + +<p>Tum-te-tum-te-tum, strummed Angel.</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Casey would waltz with the strawberry blonde,</p> +<p class="i8">And the—band—played—on."</p> +</div></div> + +<p>His sweet reedy tones thrilled the April air.</p> + +<p>And Mary Ellen's voice, robust as the whistle of a locomotive, bursting +with health and spirits, shook the very cobwebs that she had not swept +down.</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Casey would waltz with th' strawberry blonde,</p> +<p class="i8">And—the—band—play—don!"</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Generally we had a faithful subordinate in The +Seraph. He had a rather sturdy sense of +honour. On this spring morning however, I +think that the singing of Mary Ellen must have +dulled his sensibilities, for, instead of keeping a +bright lookout up the street for the dreaded form +of Mrs. Handsomebody, he lolled across the window-sill, +dangling a piece of string, with the April +sunshine warming his rounded back.</p> + +<p>And as he dangled the string, Mrs. Handsomebody +drew nearer and nearer. She entered +the gate—she entered the house—she was in the +parlour!!</p> + +<p>Angel and Mary Ellen had just given their +last triumphant shout, when Mrs. Handsomebody +said in a voice of cold fury:</p> + +<p>"Mary Ellen, kindly cease that ribald screaming. David (David is Angel's proper name) +get up instantly from that piano stool and face +me! John, Alexander, face me!"</p> + +<p>We did so tremblingly.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mrs. Handsomebody, "you +three boys go up to your bedroom—not to the +schoolroom, mind—and don't let me hear another +sound from you today! You shall get no +dinner. At four I will come and discuss your +disgraceful conduct with you. Now march!"</p> + +<p>She held the door open for us while we filed +sheepishly under her arm. Then the door closed +behind us with a decisive bang, and poor Mary +Ellen was left in the torture-chamber with Mrs. +Handsomebody and the stuffed birds.</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>Angel and I scurried up the stairway. We +could hear The Seraph panting as he laboured +after us.</p> + +<p>Once in the haven of our little room we rolled +in a confused heap on the bed, scuffling indiscriminately. +It was a favourite punishment with +Mrs. Handsomebody, and we had a suspicion +that she relished the fact that so much food was +saved when we went dinnerless. At any rate, +we were not allowed to make up the deficiency +at tea-time.</p> + +<p>We always passed the hours of our confinement +on the bed, for the room was very small +and the one window stared blankly at the window +of an unused room in the Peggs' house, which +blankly returned the stare.</p> + +<p>But these were not dull times for us. As +Elizabethan actors, striding about their bare +stage, conjured up brave pictures of gilded halls +or leafy forest glades, so we little fellows made +a castle stronghold of our bed; or better still, a +gallant frigate that sailed beyond the barren walls +into unknown seas of adventure, and anchored at +last off some rocky island where treasure lay hid +among the hills.</p> + +<p>What brave fights with pirates there were, +when Angel as Captain, I as mate, with The +Seraph for a cabin boy, fought the bloody pirate +gangs on those surf-washed shores, and gained +the fight, though far out-numbered!</p> + +<p>They were not dull times in that small back +room, but gay-coloured lawless times, when our +fancy was let free, and we fought on empty +stomachs, and felt only the wind in our faces, +and heard the creak of straining cordage. What +if we were on half-rations!</p> + +<p>On this particular morning, however, there +was something to be disposed of before we got +to business. To wit, the rank insubordination +of The Seraph. It was not to be dealt with +too lightly. Angel sat up with a dishevelled +head.</p> + +<p>"Get up!" he commanded The Seraph, who +obeyed wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Now, my man," continued Angel, with the +scowl that had made him dreaded the South Seas +over, "have you anything to say for yourself?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph hung his head.</p> + +<p>"I was on'y danglin' a bit o' stwing," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"String"—repeated Angel, the scowl deepening, +"dangling a bit of string! You may be +dangling yourself at the end of a rope before +the sun sets, my hearty! Here we are without +any dinner, all along of you. Now see here, +you'll go right over into that corner by the +window with your face to the wall and stand +there all the time John and I play! An'—an' +you won't know what we're doing nor where +we're going nor <i>anything</i>—so there!"</p> + +<p>The Seraph went, weeping bitterly. He hid +his face in the dusty lace window curtain. He +looked very small. I could not help remembering +how father had said we were to take care of +him and not make him cry.</p> + +<p>Somehow that morning things went ill with +the adventure. The savour had gone out of our +play. Two were but a paltry company after all. +Where was the cabin-boy with his trusty dirk, +eager to bleed for the cause? Though we kept +our backs rigorously turned to the window, and +spoke only in whispers, neither of us could quite +forget the presence of that dejected little figure in +the faded holland smock.</p> + +<p>After a bit The Seraph's whimpering ceased, +and what was our surprise to hear the chuckling +laugh with which he was wont to signify his +pleasure!</p> + +<p>We turned to look at him. His face was +pressed to the window, and again he giggled +rapturously.</p> + +<p>"What's up, kid?" we demanded.</p> + +<p>"Ole Joseph-an'-his-Bwethern," he sputtered, +"winkin' an' wavin' hands wiv me!"</p> + +<p>We were at his side like a shot, and there in +the hitherto blank window of the Peggs' house +stood the old gentleman of the flowered dressing-gown +laughing and nodding at The Seraph! +When he saw us he made a sign to us to open our +window, and at the same instant raised his own.</p> + +<p>It took the three of us to accomplish it, for +the window moved unreadily, being seldom raised, +as Mrs. Handsomebody regarded fresh air much +as she regarded a small boy, as something to be +kept in its place.</p> + +<p>At last the window rose, protesting and creaking, +and the next moment we were face to face +with our new acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" he said, in a loud jovial voice.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" said we, and stared.</p> + +<p>He had a strong, weather-beaten face, and +wide-open light eyes, blue and wild as the sea.</p> + +<p>"Hello, boy!" he repeated, looking at Angel, +"What's your name?"</p> + +<p>Now Angel was shy with strangers, so I +usually answered questions.</p> + +<p>"His name," I replied then, "is David Curzon +but mother called him Angel, so we jus' keep on +doing it."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said the old gentleman. Then he fixed +The Seraph with his eye. "What's the bantling's +name?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph, mightily confused at being called +a bantling, giggled inanely, so I replied again.</p> + +<p>"His name is Alexander Curzon, but mother +called him The Seraph, so we jus' keep on doing +it too."</p> + +<p>"Um-hm," assented the old gentleman, "and +you—what's your name?"</p> + +<p>"John," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he said, with an odd little smile, "and +what do they keep on calling <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Just John," I answered firmly, "nothing else."</p> + +<p>"Who's your father?" came the next question.</p> + +<p>"He's David Curzon, senior," I said proudly, +"and he's in South America building a railroad +an' Mrs. Handsomebody used to be his governess +when he was a little boy, so he left us with her, +but some day, pretty soon, I think, he's coming +back to make a really home for us with rabbits +an' puppies an' pigeons an' things."</p> + +<p>Our new friend nodded sympathetically. +Then, quite suddenly, he asked:</p> + +<p>"Where's your mother?"</p> + +<p>"She's in Heaven," I answered sadly, "she +went there two months ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes," broke in The Seraph eagerly, "but +she's comin' back some day to make a <i>weally</i> +home for us!"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" said Angel gruffly, poking him with +his elbow.</p> + +<p>"The Seraph's very little," I explained apologetically, +"he doesn't understand."</p> + +<p>The old gentleman put his hand in the pocket +of his dressing-gown.</p> + +<p>"Bantling," he said with his droll smile, "do +you like peppermint bull's-eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said The Seraph, "I yike them—one +for each of us."</p> + +<p>Whereupon this extraordinary man began +throwing us peppermints as fast as we could +catch them. It was surprising how we began +to feel at home with him, as though we had +known him for years.</p> + +<p>He had travelled all over the world it seemed, +and he brought many curious things to the window +to show us. One of these was a starling whose +wicker cage he placed on the sill where the sunlight +fell.</p> + +<p>He had got it, he said, from one of the crew +of a trading vessel off the coast of Java. The +sailor had brought it all the way from Devon +for company, and, he added—"the brute had put +out both its eyes so that it would learn to talk +more readily, so now, you see, the poor little +fellow is quite blind."</p> + +<p>"Blind—blind—blind!" echoed the starling +briskly, "blind—blind—blind!"</p> + +<p>He took it from its cage on his finger. It +hopped up his arm till it reached his cheek, where +it began to peck at his whiskers, crying all the +while in its shrill, lonely tones,—"Blind, blind, +blind!"</p> + +<p>We three were entranced; and an idea that +was swiftly forming in my mind struggled for +expression.</p> + +<p>If this wonderful old man had, as he said, +sailed the seas from Land's End to Ceylon, was +it not possible that he had seen, even fought +with, real pirates? Might he not have followed +hot on the trail of hidden treasure? My cheeks +burned as I tried to put the question.</p> + +<p>"Did you—" I began, "did you—"</p> + +<p>"Well?" he encouraged. "Did I what, John?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, did you," I burst out, "ever see a pirate +ship, an' pirates—real ones?"</p> + +<p>His face lit up.</p> + +<p>"Surely," he replied casually, "many an one."</p> + +<p>"P'raps—" ventured Angel, with an excited +laugh, "p'raps you're one yourself!"</p> + +<p>The old gentleman searched our eager faces +with his wide-open, sea blue eyes, then he looked +cautiously into the room behind him, and, apparently +satisfied that no one could overhear, +he put his hand to the side of his mouth, and said +in a loud hoarse whisper—</p> + +<p>"That I am. Pirate as ever was!"</p> + +<p>I think you could have knocked me down with +a feather. I know my knees shook and the room +reeled. The Seraph was the first to recover, +piping cheerfully—</p> + +<p>"I yike piwates!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," repeated the old gentleman, reflectively, +"pirate as ever was. The things I've seen and +done would fill the biggest book you ever saw, and +it'd make your hair stand on end to read it—what +with fights, and murders, and hangings, and +storms, and shipwreck, and the hunt for gold! +Many a sweet schooner or frigate I've sunk, or +taken for myself; and there isn't a port on the +South Seas where women don't hush their children +crying with the fear of Captain Pegg."</p> + +<p>Then he added hastily, as though he feared he +had gone too far:</p> + +<p>"But I'm a changed man, mark you—a reformed +man. If things suit me pretty well here +I don't think I shall break out again. It is just +that you chaps seem so sympathetic makes me tell +you all this; but you must swear never to breathe +a word of it, for no one knows but you. My son +and daughter-in-law think I'm an archæologist. +It'd be an awful shock to them to find that I'm a +pirate."</p> + +<p>We swore the blackest secrecy, and were about +to ply him with a hundred questions, when we saw +a maid carrying a large tray enter the room behind +him.</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg, as I must now call him, gave us +a gesture of warning and began to lower his +window. A pleasant aroma of roast beef came +across the alley. The next instant the flowered +dressing-gown had disappeared and the window +opposite stared blankly as before.</p> + +<p>Angel blew a deep breath. "Did you notice," +he said, "how different he got once he had told +us he was a pirate—wilder and rougher, and used +more sailor words?"</p> + +<p>"However did you guess it first?" I asked +admiringly.</p> + +<p>"I think I know a pirate when I see one," he +returned loftily. "But, oh I say, wouldn't +Mrs. Handsomebody be waxy if she knew?"</p> + +<p>"An' wouldn't Mary Ellen be scared stiff if +<i>she</i> knew?"</p> + +<p>"An' won't we have fun? Hurray!"</p> + +<p>We rolled in ecstasy on the much-enduring bed.</p> + +<p>We talked excitedly of the possibilities of such +a wonderful and dangerous friendship. And as +it turned out, none of our imaginings equalled +what really happened.</p> + +<p>The afternoon passed quickly. As the hands +of our alarm clock neared the hour of four we +obliterated the traces of our sojourn on the bed +as well as we could, and, when Mrs. Handsomebody +entered, she found us sitting in a row on the +three cane-bottomed chairs, on which we hung our +clothes at night.</p> + +<p>The scolding she gave us was even longer and +more humiliating to our manhood than usual. +She shook her hard white finger near our faces +and said that for very little she would write to +our father and complain of our actions.</p> + +<p>"Now," she said, in conclusion, "give your faces +and hands a thorough washing and comb your +hair, which is disgraceful; then come quietly down +to tea." The door closed behind her.</p> + +<p>"What beats me," said Angel, lathering his +hands, "is why that wart on her chin wiggles so +when she jaws us! I can't keep my eyes off it."</p> + +<p>"It wiggles," piped The Seraph, as he dragged +a brush over his curls, "'cos it's nervous, an' I +wiggle when she scolds too, 'cos <i>I'm</i> nervous."</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry, old man," Angel responded, +gaily, "we'll take care of you."</p> + +<p>We were in fine spirits despite our scolding. +Indeed, we almost pitied Mrs. Handsomebody for +her ignorance of the wonders amongst which she +had her being.</p> + +<p>Here she was, fussing over some stuffed birds +in a glass case, when a live starling, who could +talk, had perched near her very window sill! She +spent hours in conversation with her Unitarian +minister, while a real pirate lived next door.</p> + +<p>It was pitiful, and yet it was very funny. We +found it hard to go quietly down to tea with such +thoughts in our minds, and after five hours in our +bedroom.</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>The next day was Sunday.</p> + +<p>As we sat at dinner with Mrs. Handsomebody +after morning service, we were scarcely conscious +of the large, white dumplings that bulged before +us, with a delicious sticky sweet sauce, trickling +down their dropsical sides. We plied our spoons +with languid interest around their outer edges, as +calves nibble around a straw stack. Our vagrant +minds scoured the Spanish Main with Captain +Pegg.</p> + +<p>Suddenly The Seraph spoke in that cock-sure +way of his.</p> + +<p>"There's a piwate at Peggs."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody looked at him sharply.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" she demanded. At the same +instant Angel and I kicked him under cover of +the table.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" repeated Mrs. Handsomebody +sternly.</p> + +<p>"Funny ole gennelman at the Cwibbage Peggs," +replied The Seraph with his mouth full.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody greatly respected Mr. +and Mrs. Mortimer Pegg, and this play of words +on the name incensed her.</p> + +<p>"Am I to understand Alexander," she gobbled, +"that you are making <i>game</i> of the Mortimer +Peggs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," giggled the wretched Seraph, "it's a +cwibbage game. You play it wiv Peggs."</p> + +<p>"Leave the table instantly!" ordered Mrs. +Handsomebody. "You are becoming unbearable."</p> + +<p>The Seraph cast one anguished look at his +dumpling and burst into tears. We could hear +his wails growing ever fainter as he plodded up +the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Mary Ellen, remove that dumpling!" commanded +Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>Angel and I began to eat very fast. There +was a short silence; then Mrs. Handsomebody +said didactically:</p> + +<p>"The elder Mr. Pegg is a much travelled gentleman, +and one of the most noted archæologists +of the day. A trifle eccentric in his manner perhaps +but a deep thinker. David, can you tell +me what an archæologist is?"</p> + +<p>"Something you pretend you are," said Angel, +"and you ain't."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody. +"Look it up in your Johnson's when you go upstairs, +and let me know the result. I will excuse +you now."</p> + +<p>We found The Seraph lounging in a chair in +the schoolroom.</p> + +<p>"Too bad about the dumpling, old boy," I +said consolingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not too bad," he replied. "Mary Ellen +fetched it up the backstairs to me. I'm vewy +full."</p> + +<p>That afternoon we saw Captain Pegg go for +a walk with his son and daughter-in-law. He +looked quite altered in a long grey coat and tall +hat. Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Pegg seemed +proud to walk with him.</p> + +<p>The following day was warm and sunny. +When lessons were over we rushed to our bedroom +window and to our joy we found that the +window opposite was wide open, the wicker cage +on the sill with the starling inside swelling up +and preening himself in the sunshine, while just +beyond sat Captain Pegg smoking a long pipe.</p> + +<p>He seemed delighted to see us.</p> + +<p>"Avast, my hearties!" he cried. "It's glorious +sailing weather, but I've just been lying at anchor +here, on the chance of sighting you. It does my +heart good, y'see, to talk with some of my own +kind, and leave off pretending to be an archæologist—to +stretch my mental legs, as it were. Well—have +you taken your bearings this morning?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Pegg," I broke out with my heart +tripping against my blouse, "you said something +the other day about buried treasure. Did you +really find some? And would you mind telling +us how you set about it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied meditatively, "many a sack +of treasure trove I've unearthed—but the most +curious find of all, I got without searching and +without blood being spilt. I was lying quiet +those days, about forty years ago, off the north +of the Orkney islands. Well, one morning I +took a fancy to explore some of the outlying +rocks and little islands dotted here and there. +So I started off in a yawl with four seamen to +row me; and not seeing much but barren rocks +and stunted shrubs about, I bent over the stern +and stared into the sea. It was as clear as crystal.</p> + +<p>"As we were passing through a narrow channel +between two rock islands, I bade the men rest +on their oars, for something strange below had +arrested my attention. I now could see plainly, +in the green depths, a Spanish galleon, standing +upright, held as in a vice, by the grip of the two +great rocks. She must have gone down with all +hands, when the greater part of the Spanish +Armada was wrecked on the shores of Britain.</p> + +<p>"'Shiver my timbers, lads,' I cried. 'Here'll +be treasure in earnest! Back to the ship for +our diving suits—booty for everyone, and plum +duff for dinner!'</p> + +<p>"Well, to make a long story short, I, and four +of the trustiest of the crew, put on our diving +suits, and soon we were walking the slippery +decks once trodden by Spanish grandees and +soldiers, and the scene of many a bloody fight I'll +be bound. Their skeletons lay about the deck, +wrapped in sea-tangle, and from every crevice +of the galleon, tall, red, and green, and yellow, +and purple weeds had sprung, that waved and +shivered with the motion of the sea. Her decks +were strewn with shells and sand, and in and out +of her rotted ribs frightened fish darted at our +approach. It was a gruesome sight.</p> + +<p>"Three weeks we worked, carrying the treasure +to our own ship, and I began to feel as much +at home under water as above it. At last we +set sail without mishap, and every man on board +had his share and some of them gave up pirating +and settled down as inn-keepers and tradesmen."</p> + +<p>As the sound of his deep voice ceased, we three +were silent also, gazing longingly into his eyes +that were so like the sea.</p> + +<p>Then—"Captain Pegg," said Angel, in a still, +small voice, "I don't—s'pose—you'd know of +any hidden treasure hereabouts? We'd most +awfully like to find some. It'd be a jolly thing +to write and tell father!"</p> + +<p>A droll smile flickered over the bronzed +features of Captain Pegg. He brought down +his fist on the window-sill.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you aren't chaps after my own +heart!" he cried. "Treasure about here? I +was just coming to that—and a most curious +happening it is! There was a cabin-boy—name +of Jenks—a lad that I trusted and loved like +my own son, who stole the greater part of my +share of the treasure, and, though I scoured the +globe for him—" the Captain's eyes rolled +fiercely—"I found neither trace of him nor the +treasure, till two years ago. It was in Madagascar +that I received a message from a dying +man, confessing that, shaken by remorse, he had +brought what was left of the plunder and buried +it in Mrs. Handsomebody's back yard!"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Handsomebody's back yard!" We +chanted the words in utter amazement.</p> + +<p>"Just that," affirmed Captain Pegg solemnly. +"Jenks found out that I owned the house next +door but he dared not bury the treasure there +because the yard was smoothly sodded, and would +show up any disturbance; while Mrs. Handsomebody's +yard, being covered with planks, was just +the thing. So he simply raised one of the planks, +dug a hole, and deposited the sack containing +the last of the treasure, and wrote me his confession. +And there you are!"</p> + +<p>He smiled benignly on us. I longed to hug +him.</p> + +<p>The March wind swooped and whistled down +the alley, and the starling gave little sharp twittering +noises and cocked his head.</p> + +<p>"When, oh when—" we burst out—"tonight? +May we search for it tonight, Captain Pegg?"</p> + +<p>He reflected. "No-o. Not tonight. Jenks, +you see, sent me a plan of the yard with a cross +to mark where the treasure lies, and I'll have to +hunt it up so as not to waste our time turning +up the whole yard. But tomorrow night—yes, +tomorrow at midnight we'll start the search!"</p> + + +<h4>V</h4> + +<p>At dinner that day the rice pudding had the +flavor of ambrosia. By nightfall preparations +were already on foot.</p> + +<p>Firstly the shovel had been smuggled from the +coal cellar and secreted in a corner of the yard +behind the ash barrel together with an iron crowbar +to use as a lever and an empty sack to aid in +the removal of the treasure.</p> + +<p>I scarcely slept that night, and when I did my +mind was filled with wild imaginings. The next +morning we were heedless scholars indeed, and at +dinner I ate so little that Mrs. Handsomebody +was moved to remark jocularly that somebody +not a thousand miles away was shaping for a +bilious bout.</p> + +<p>At four o'clock Captain Pegg appeared at his +window looking the picture of cheerful confidence. +He said it warmed his heart to be at his old +profession again, and indeed I never saw a merrier +twinkle in any one's eyes. He had found +the plan of the yard sent by Jenks and he had +no doubt that we should soon be in possession +of the Spanish treasure.</p> + +<p>"But there's one thing, my lads;" he said +solemnly, "I make no claim whatever to any share +in this booty. Let that be understood. Anything +we find is to be yours entirely. If I were +to take any such goods into my son's house, his +wife would get suspicious, uncomfortable questions would be asked, and it'd be all up with +this archæologist business."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you hide it under your bed?" I suggested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she'd be sure to find it," he replied sadly. +"She's into everything. And even if they didn't +locate it till I am dead, they'd feel disgraced to +think their father had been a pirate. You'll +have to take it."</p> + +<p>We agreed, therefore, to ease him of the responsibility +of his strangely gotten gain. We +then parted with the understanding that we were +to meet him in the passage between the two houses +promptly at midnight, and that in the meantime +we were to preserve a calm and commonplace +demeanour.</p> + +<p>With the addition of four crullers and a slab +of cold bread pudding filched from the pantry, +our preparations were now complete.</p> + +<p>We were well disciplined little animals; we +always went to bed without a murmur, but on +this night we literally flew there. The Seraph +ended his prayers with—"and for this piwate +tweasure make us twuly thankful. Amen."</p> + +<p>The next moment we had dived under the bed +clothes and snuggled there in wild expectancy.</p> + +<p>From half past seven to twelve is a long +stretch. The Seraph slept peacefully. Angel or +I rose every little while and struck a match to +look at the clock. At nine we were so hungry +that we ate all four crullers. At eleven we ate +the slab of cold bread pudding. After that +we talked less, and I think Angel dozed, but I lay +staring in the direction of the window, watching +for the brightness which would signify that +Captain Pegg was astir and had lighted his gas.</p> + +<p>At last it came—a pale and trembling messenger, +that showed our little room to me in a new +aspect—one of mystery and grotesque shadows.</p> + +<p>I was on my feet in an instant. I shook +Angel's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Up with you!" I whispered, hoarsely. "The +hour has come!"</p> + +<p>I knew that drastic measures must be taken +with The Seraph, so I just grasped him under +the armpits and stood him on his feet without +a word. He wobbled for a space, digging his +knuckles in his eyes.</p> + +<p>The hands of the clock pointed to ten minutes +to twelve.</p> + +<p>Angel and I hastily pulled on our trousers; +and he, who liked to dress the part, stuck a knife +in his belt, and twisted a scarlet silk handkerchief +(borrowed from Mary Ellen) round his head. +His dark eyes glistened under its folds.</p> + +<p>The Seraph and I went unadorned, save that +he girt his trusty sword about his stout middle +and I carried a toy bayonet.</p> + +<p>Down the inky-black stairs we crept, scarcely +breathing. The lower hall seemed cavernous. +I could smell the old carpets and the haircloth +covering of the chairs. We sidled down the +back hall among goloshes, umbrellas, and Turk's +Head dusters. The back door had a key like +that of a gaol.</p> + +<p>Angel tried it with both hands, but though it +grated horribly, it stuck. Then I had a try, +and could not resist a triumphant click of the +tongue when it turned, for Angel was a vain +fellow and took a rise out of being the elder.</p> + +<p>And when the moonlight shone upon us in the +yard!—oh, the delicious freedom of it! We +hopped for joy.</p> + +<p>In the passage we awaited our leader. Between +the roofs we could see the low half-moon, +hanging like a tilted bird's nest in the dark blue +sky, while a group of stars fluttered near it like +young birds. The Cathedral clock sounded the +hour of midnight.</p> + +<p>Soon we heard the stealthy steps of Captain +Pegg, and we gasped as we saw him, for in place +of his flowered dressing-gown, he wore breeches +and top boots, a loose shirt with a blue neckerchief +knotted at the throat, and, gleaming at +his side, a cutlass.</p> + +<p>He smiled broadly when he saw us.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you aren't armed—every man-jack +of you—even to the bantling!" he cried. +"Capital!"</p> + +<p>"My sword, she's <i>weal</i>," said The Seraph +with dignity. "Sometimes I fight giants."</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg then shook hands with each of +us in turn, and we thrilled at being treated as +equals by such a man.</p> + +<p>"And now to work!" he said heartily. "Here +is the plan of the yard as sent by Jenks."</p> + +<p>We could see it plainly by the moonlight, all +neatly drawn out, even to the ash barrel and the +clothes dryer, and there, on the fifth plank from +the end was a cross in red ink, and beside it the +magic word—Treasure!</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg inserted the crowbar in a wide +crack between the fourth and fifth boards, then +we all pressed our full weight upon it with a "Yo +heave ho, my hearties!" from our chief.</p> + +<p>The board flew up and we flew down, sprawling +on the ground. Somehow the Captain, +versed in such matters, kept his feet, though he +staggered a bit.</p> + +<p>Then, in an instant, we were pulling wildly at +the plank to dislodge it. This we accomplished +after much effort, and a dark, dank recess was +disclosed.</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg dropped to his knees and with +his hand explored cautiously under the planks. +His face fell.</p> + +<p>"Shiver my timbers if I can find it!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Let me try!" I cried eagerly.</p> + +<p>Both Angel and I thrust our hands in also and +fumbled among the moist lumps of earth. I felt +an earth-worm writhe away.</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg now lighted a match and held it +in the aperture. It cast a glow upon our tense +faces.</p> + +<p>"Hold it closer!" implored Angel. "This +way—right here—don't you see?"</p> + +<p>At the same moment we both had seen the +heavy metal ring that projected, ever so little, +above the surface of the earth. We grasped it +simultaneously and pulled. Captain Pegg lighted +another match. It was heavy—oh, so heavy!—but +we got it out—a fair-sized leather bag +bound with thongs. To one of these was attached +the ring we had first caught sight of.</p> + +<p>Now, kneeling as we were, we stared up in +Captain Pegg's face. His wide, blue eyes had +somehow got a different look.</p> + +<p>"Little boys," he said gently, "open it!"</p> + +<p>There in the moonlight, we unloosed the +fastenings of the bag and turned its contents +out upon the bare boards. The treasure lay disclosed +then, a glimmering heap, as though, out +of the dank earth, we had digged a patch of +moonshine.</p> + +<p>We squatted on the boards around it, our heads +touching, our wondering eyes filled with the magic +of it.</p> + +<p>"It is the treasure," murmured Angel, in an +awe-struck voice, "real treasure-trove. Will +you tell us, Captain Pegg, what all these things +are?"</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg, squatting like the rest of us, +ran his hands meditatively through the strange +collection.</p> + +<p>"Why, strike me purple," he growled, "if that +scamp Jenks hasn't kept most of the gold coins +and left us only the silver! But here's three +golden doubloons, all right, one apiece for ye! +And here's ducats and silver florins, and pieces +of eight—and some I can't name till I get the +daylight on them. It's a pretty bit of treasure +all told; and see here—" he held up two old +Spanish watches, just the thing for gentlemen +adventurers.</p> + +<p>We boys were now delving into the treasure +on our own account, and brought to light a brace +of antiquated pistols, an old silver flagon, a compass, +a wonderful set of chess men carved from +ivory, and some curious shells, that delighted +The Seraph. And other quaint things there were +that we handled reverently, and coins of different +countries, square and round, and some with holes +bored through.</p> + +<p>We were so intent upon our discovery that +none of us heard the approaching footsteps till +they were fair upon us. Then, with a start, we +turned, and saw to our horror Mrs. Handsomebody +and Mary Ellen, with her hair in curl-papers, +and, close behind them, Mr. and Mrs. +Mortimer Pegg, scantily attired, the gentleman +carrying a revolver.</p> + +<p>"David! John! Alexander!" gobbled Mrs. +Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"Now what d'ye think of that!" came from +Mary Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Father! Have you gone quite mad?" cried +Mrs. Pegg.</p> + +<p>And—"Oh, I say Governor—" stammered the +gentleman with the revolver.</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg rose to his feet with dignity.</p> + +<p>"These young gentlemen," he said, simply, +"have with my help been able to locate some +buried treasure, stolen from me years ago by a +man named Jenks, and hidden here since two +decades. I hereby renounce all claim to it in +favour of my three brave friends!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Pegg was bent over the treasure.</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, sir," he said, rather sharply, +"some of this seems to be quite valuable stuff—"</p> + +<p>"I know the value of it to a penny," replied +his father, with equal asperity, "and I intend it +shall belong solely and wholly to these boys."</p> + +<p>"Whatever are you rigged up like that for?" +demanded his daughter-in-law.</p> + +<p>"As gentlemen of spirit," replied Captain +Pegg, patiently, "we chose to dress the part. +We do what we can to keep a little glamour and +gaiety in the world. Some folk—" he looked +at Mrs. Handsomebody—"would like to discipline +it all away."</p> + +<p>"I think," said our governess, "that, considering +it is <i>my</i> back yard, I have some claim to—"</p> + +<p>"None at all, Madam—none at all!" interrupted +Captain Pegg. "By all the rules of treasure-hunting, +the finder keeps the treasure."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody was silenced. She did +not wish to quarrel with the Peggs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pegg moved closer to her.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Handsomebody," she said, winking her +white eyelashes very fast, "I really do not think +that you should allow your pupils to accept this—er—treasure. +My father-in-law has become +very eccentric of late, and I am positive that he +himself buried these things very recently. Only +day before yesterday, I saw that set of ivory +chessmen on his writing table."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, Sophia!" shouted Captain +Pegg loudly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mortimer Pegg looked warningly at his +wife.</p> + +<p>"All right, Governor! Don't you worry," he +said taking his father's arm. "It shall be just +as you say; but one thing is certain, you'll take +your death of cold if you stay out in this night +air." As he spoke, he turned up the collar of +his coat.</p> + +<p>Captain Pegg shook hands grandly with Angel +and me, then he lifted The Seraph in his arms and +kissed him.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, bantling," he said, softly. +"Sleep tight!"</p> + +<p>He turned then to his son. "Mort," said he, +"I haven't kissed a little boy like that since you +were just so high."</p> + +<p>Mr. Pegg laughed and shivered, and they went +off quite amiably, arm in arm, Mrs. Pegg following, +muttering to herself.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody looked disparagingly at +the treasure. "Mary Ellen," she ordered, "help +the children to gather up that rubbish, and come +in at once. Such an hour it is!"</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen, with many exclamations, assisted +in the removal of the treasure to our bedroom. +Mrs. Handsomebody, after seeing it deposited +there, and us safely under the bed-clothes, herself +extinguished the gas.</p> + +<p>"I shall write to your father," she said, severely, +"and tell him the whole circumstance. <i>Then</i> we +shall see what is to be done with <i>you</i>, and with the +<i>treasure</i>."</p> + +<p>With this veiled threat she left us. We snuggled +our little bodies together. We were cold.</p> + +<p>"I'll write to father myself, tomorrow, an' +'splain everything," I announced.</p> + +<p>"D' you know," mused Angel, "I b'lieve I'll +be a pirate, 'stead of a civil engineer like father. +I b'lieve there's more in it."</p> + +<p>"I'll be an engineer just the same," said I.</p> + +<p>"I fink," murmured The Seraph, sleepily, "I +fink I'll jus' be a bishop, an' go to bed at pwoper +times an' have poached eggs for tea."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch2">Chapter II: The Jilt</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>The day after the finding of the Treasure, +Mary Ellen told us that she had seen Captain +Pegg drive away from his son's house in a closed +cab, before we had emerged from the four-poster. +There had been a quarrel, the servants had told +her, and in spite of all his son and daughter-in-law +could do, the peppery Captain had left them, +refusing to divulge the name of his destination.</p> + +<p>"And they do say," Mary Ellen declared, +"that he's no more fit to be wanderin' about the +world alone than a babe unborn."</p> + +<p>We smiled at the ignorance of women-servants, +and speculated much on the Captain's probable +new adventure. We were confident that he +would return one day, loaded with fresh booty, +and full of tales of the sea.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, there was the Bishop. His +house, as I have said stood between us and the +Cathedral. It was a benign house, like a sleepy +mastiff, and seemed to tolerate with lazy indifference the presence of its two narrow, high-backed +neighbours, which with their cold, unblinking +windows, looked like sinister, half-fed +cats.</p> + +<p>We had not been long at Mrs. Handsomebody's +before we made friends with Bishop Torrance. +As he walked in his deep, green garden, +one morning, we three watched him enviously +over the brick wall, that separated us. We were +balanced precariously on a board, laid across the +ash barrel, and The Seraph, losing his balance, +fell headlong into a bed of clove pinks, almost at +the Bishop's feet.</p> + +<p>When his yells had subsided and explanations +asked, and given, Angel and I were lifted over +the wall, and shaken hands with, and given the +freedom of the garden. We were introduced +to the Bishop's niece, Margery, who was his +sole companion, though we regarded, as one of +the family, the Fountain Boy who blew cool jets +of water through a shell, and turned his laughing +face always upward toward the spires of the +Cathedral.</p> + +<p>Thus a quaint friendship sprang up, and, +though the Bishop had not the dash, and boldness +of Captain Pegg, he was an understanding and +high-hearted playfellow.</p> + +<p>I think The Seraph was his favourite. Even +then, the dignified elegance of the Bishop's life +appealed to that infant's love of the comfortable, +and it tickled the Bishop immensely to have him +pace solemnly up and down the garden, at his +side, hands clasped behind his back, helping, as +he believed, to "pwepare" the Bishop's sermon.</p> + +<p>All three of us were permitted by Mrs. Handsomebody +to join the Cathedral choir.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>Thus we had a feeling of proprietorship in +the Bishop and his garden, and his niece, Margery, +and the Fountain Boy. Hence what was our +astonishment and chagrin to see one morning, +from our schoolroom window, a chit of a girl, +smaller than myself, strutting up and down the +Bishop's garden, pushing a doll's perambulator. +She had fluffy golden hair about her shoulders, +and her skirts gave a rhythmic swing as she +turned the corners. Now and then she would +stop in her walk, remove the covering from the +doll, do some idiotic thing to it, and replace the +cover with elaborate care.</p> + +<p>We stared fascinated. Then Angel blew out +his lips in disgust, and said—</p> + +<p>"Ain't girls the most sickenin' things?"</p> + +<p>"There she goes again, messing with the doll's +quilt," I agreed.</p> + +<p>"Le's fwow somefing at her!" suggested The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and get into a row with the Bishop," +answered Angel. "But I don't see myself going +over there to play again. She's spoiled everything."</p> + +<p>"I s'pose she's a spoiled child," said The +Seraph, dreamily. "Wonder where her muvver +is."</p> + +<p>"I say," said Angel, "let's rap on the pane, +and then when she looks up, we'll all stick our +tongues out at her. That'll scare her all right!"</p> + +<p>We did.</p> + +<p>When her wondering blue eyes were raised to +our window, what they saw was three white disks +pressed against the glass, with a flattened pink +tongue protruding from each. We glared to see +the effect of this outrage upon her. But the +dauntless little creature never quailed. Worse +than that, she put her fingers to her lips and blew +three kisses at us—one apiece.</p> + +<p>We were staggered. We withdrew our reddened +faces hastily and stared at each other. +We were aghast. Almost we had been kissed by +a girl!</p> + +<p>"Let's draw the blind!" said Angel. "She +shan't see us! Then we can peek through the +crack and watch her."</p> + +<p>But no sooner was the blind pulled down than +we heard our governess coming and flew to our +seats.</p> + +<p>"Boys!" she gobbled, stopping in the doorway, +"what does this mean? The boy who +pulled down that blind stand up!"</p> + +<p>Angel rose. "The light hurt my eyes," he +lied feebly, "I aren't very well."</p> + +<p>"Ridiculous!" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody, +running up the blind with precision, "this room +at its brightest is dim. Your eyes are keen enough +for mischief, sir. Now we shall proceed with +our arithmetic."</p> + +<p>We floundered through the Tables, but my +mind still wandered in the Bishop's garden. Resentment +and curiosity struggled for mastery +within me. In my mind's eye I saw her covering +and uncovering the doll. Why did she do it? +What did it feel like to push that "pram"? +Would she drink tea from the Indian Tree cups +and be allowed to strum on the piano? Oh, I +wished she hadn't come! And yet—anyway, I +was glad I was a boy.</p> + +<p>As Fate had it, Angel and The Seraph had to +have their hair trimmed that afternoon. My own +straight blond crop grew but slowly so I was free +for an hour to follow my own devices. Those led +me to climb to the roof of our scullery and from +there mount the high brick wall.</p> + +<p>From this vantage point I scanned the surrounding +country for signs of the interloper. There +she was! There she was!</p> + +<p>Down on her knees at the fountain's brink, her +curls almost touching the water, she was sailing +boats made of hollyhock petals. The doll's +perambulator stood near by.</p> + +<p>Noiselessly I crept along the wall till I reached +the cherry tree that stood in the corner. Reaching +its friendly branches, I let myself down, hand +over hand, till, at last, I dropped lightly on the +soft turf.</p> + +<p>I sauntered then to her side, and gazed at her +moodily. If she saw me she gave no sign.</p> + +<p>In spite of myself I grew interested in the way +she manipulated those boat petals. Evidently +there was some system in her game but it was new +to me.</p> + +<p>"That little black seed on this boat is Jason," +she said at last, without looking up, "and these +little white seeds are his comrades. They're +searching for The Golden Fleece. My hair is the +Fleece. Come and play!"</p> + +<p>Mutely I squatted beside her, and our two faces +peered at each other in the mirror of the pool.</p> + +<p>She gave a funny eager little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she cried, "we match beautifully, don't +we? Your hair is yellow and my hair is yellow, +my eyes are blue and your eyes are blue."</p> + +<p>"My eyes are grey, like father's," I objected.</p> + +<p>"No, they're blue like mine. We match beautifully. +Let's play something else." Before I +could prevent her, she had swept Jason and his +crew away, and, snatching the doll from the +perambulator, had set it on the fountain's edge +between us.</p> + +<p>"This is Dorothea," she announced, "isn't she +sweet? I'm her mother. You should be the +father, and Dorothea should want to paddle her +toes in the fountain. Now you hold her—so."</p> + +<p>Before I was aware of it I was made to grasp +the puppet by the waist, while her mistress began +to rearrange the pillows in the "pram."</p> + +<p>I glanced fearfully at our schoolroom window, +lest I should be discovered in so unmanly a posture. +It seemed that we were quite alone and unobserved.</p> + +<p>A drowsy pleasure stole over my senses. The +humming of the bees in the Canterbury Bells became +a chant as of sirens. Dorothea's silly pink +feet dangled in the pool. Surreptitiously I slipped +my hand under water and felt them. They were +getting spongy and seemed likely to come off. +Truly there were compensations for such slavery.</p> + +<p>My companion returned and sat down with her +slim body close to mine.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" she cooed.</p> + +<p>"John."</p> + +<p>"Oh. Mine is Jane. You may call me Jenny. +I'm visiting Aunt Margery. The Bishop is my +great-uncle. What are your brothers' names?"</p> + +<p>"Angel and The Seraph. <i>They don't</i> like +girls." Instantly I wondered why I had said +that. Did I like girls? <i>Not much.</i> But I +didn't want Angel interfering in this. He had +better keep away.</p> + +<p>"My father is a judge. He sends bad men to +prison."</p> + +<p>"My father"—I was very proud of him—"is a +civil engineer. He's in South America building +a railroad, so that's why we live with Mrs. +Handsomebody. But some day he's coming back +to make a home for us. When I grow up I shall +be an engineer too, and build bridges over +canyons."</p> + +<p>"What's canyons? Hold Dorothea tighter."</p> + +<p>I explained canyons at length.</p> + +<p>"P'raps I'll take you with me," I added weakly.</p> + +<p>She clapped her hands rapturously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what fun!" she gurgled. "I can keep +house and hang my washing 'cross the canyon +to dry!"</p> + +<p>Frankly I did not relish the thought of my canyon's +being thus desecrated. I determined never +to allow her to do any such thing, but, at the +moment I was willing to indulge her fancy.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she prattled on, "I'll wheel Dorothea +up and down the bridge and watch you work."</p> + +<p>Now there was some sense in that. What man +does not enjoy being admired while he does +things? In fact Jane had hit upon a great +elemental truth when she suggested this. From +that moment I was hers.</p> + +<p>Laying Dorothea, toes up, on the grass I proceeded +to lead Jane into the most cherished realms +of my fancy. Together we sailed those "perilous +seas in faery lands forlorn," dabbling our hands +in the fountain, while the golden August sunshine +kissed our necks.</p> + +<p>I said not a word of this at tea. I munched +my bread and butter in a sort of haze, scarcely +conscious of the subdued conversation led by Mrs. +Handsomebody, until I heard her say,</p> + +<p>"A little great-niece of Bishop Torrance is visiting +next door. You are therefore invited to take +tea with her tomorrow afternoon. I trust you +will conduct yourselves with decency at table, and +remember that a frail little girl is not to be played +with as a headlong boy."</p> + +<p>I felt that she couldn't tell me anything about +frail little girls, but I kept my knowledge to myself. +The Seraph said—</p> + +<p>"Was you ever a fwail little gel, Mrs. Handsomebody?" +Our governess fixed him with her eye.</p> + +<p>"I was a most decorous and obedient little girl, +Alexander, and asked no impertinent questions of +my elders."</p> + +<p>"Was Mary Ellen a fwail little gel?" persisted +The Seraph.</p> + +<p>"No," snapped Mrs. Handsomebody, "judging +from her characteristics as a servant, I should +say that she was a very riotous, rude little girl. +Now drink your milk."</p> + +<p>"I yike wiotous wude people," said The Seraph +with his face in the tumbler; the milk trickled +down his chin.</p> + +<p>"Leave the table, Alexander," commanded Mrs. +Handsomebody, "your conduct is quite inexcusable." +The Seraph departed, weeping.</p> + +<p>All that evening I thought about Jane. I had +no heart for a pillow fight. At night I dreamed +of her, and saw her weekly washing, suspended +from a line, fluttering in the wind that raced along +my canyon.</p> + +<p>I strained toward the hour when I should meet +her at tea. I had never felt like this before. +True, I had once conceived a violent fancy for +a fat young woman in the pastry shop, but she +had been replaced by a thin young woman who +did not appeal to me, and the episode was forgotten.</p> + +<p>But, oh, this bitter-sweetness of my love for +Jane! My despair when I found that she was to +sit next Angel at tea, till I discovered that, seated +opposite, I could stare at her, and admire how she +nibbled her almond cake and sipped tea from an +apple-green cup.</p> + +<p>After tea we played musical chairs, in the library, with Margery at the piano. First marched +The Seraph with his brown curls bobbing; and +after him, the stout Bishop in his gaiters; next +Angel; then Jane on tiptoes; and lastly myself in +squeaky new boots.</p> + +<p>Seraph and the Bishop were soon out of it. +They were invariably beaten in our games, though +afterward they always seemed to think they had +won. So Angel, Jane, and I were left, prancing +around two solemn carved chairs. The music +ceased with a crash. Jane leaped to one chair +while Angel and I fell simultaneously upon the +other. We both clung to it desperately, but he +dislodged me, inch by inch, and I, furious at being +balked in my pursuit of Jane, struck him twice in +the ribs, then ran into the dim hall and hid myself.</p> + +<p>There Jane found me, and there her tender lips +kissed my hot cheek, and she squeezed me in her +arms. For a moment we did not speak, then she +whispered—</p> + +<p>"I wish <i>you</i> had got the chair, John. I love +you best of all."</p> + +<p>That night I hung about the kitchen while +Mary Ellen was setting bread to rise. The time +had come when I must speak to some fellow +creature of this tremendous new element that had +come into my life. I watched Mary Ellen's stout +red arms as she manipulated the dough, in much +perplexity. The kitchen was hot, the kettle sang, +it seemed a moment for confidence, yet words +were hard to find.</p> + +<p>At last I got out desperately:</p> + +<p>"Mary Ellen, what is love like?"</p> + +<p>"Love is it, Masther John? What do the likes +o' me know about love thin?" She smiled +broadly, as she dexterously shifted the puffy white +mass.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>you</i> know," I persisted, "'cos you've been +in it, often. You've had lots of 'followers' now, +Mary Ellen, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, thin, if ye must know, I'll tell ye point +blunt to kape out av it. It's an awful thing whin +it gits the best av ye."</p> + +<p>"But what's it <i>feel like</i>?" I probed.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen wiped the flour off each red finger +in turn, and gazed into the flame of the +lamp.</p> + +<p>"It's like this," she said solemnly, "ye burns +in yer insides till ye feel like ye had a furnace +blazin' there. Thin whin it seems ye must bust +wid the flarin' av it, ye suddintly turns cowld as +ice, an' yer sowl do shrivil up wid fear. An' +thin, at last, ye fergit all about it till the nixt +wan happens along. Och—I haven't had a sphell +fer months! This is an awful dull place. I +think I'll be quittin' it soon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, Mary Ellen!" I cried, alarmed, +"you mustn't leave us! When Jane and I get +married you can come and live with us." I +blushed furiously.</p> + +<p>"And who might Jane be?" demanded Mary +Ellen, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"She's the Bishop's great-niece," I explained +proudly. "I love her terribly, Mary Ellen. It +hurts in here." I pressed my hand on my +stomach.</p> + +<p>"Well, well." She shook her head commiseratingly. +"I'm sorry fer ye, Masther John—sthartin' +off like this at your age. Here's the +spoon I stirred the cake wid—have a lick o' that. +It'll mebbe help ye."</p> + +<p>I licked pensively at the big wooden spoon, +and felt strangely soothed. My admiration for +Mary Ellen increased.</p> + +<p>As I slowly climbed the stairs for bed, visions +of Jane hovered in the darkness above me—airy +rainbows, with Jane's laughing face peering between +the bars of pink and gold. I had never +known a little girl before, and Jane embodied +all things frail and exquisite.</p> + +<p>When I entered our room Angel was sitting +on the side of the bed, pulling his shirt over his +head. The Seraph already slept in his place next +the wall.</p> + +<p>I stood before Angel with folded arms.</p> + +<p>"Hm," he muttered crossly, "you've been lickin' +batter! It's on the end of your nose. Why +didn't you get me something?"</p> + +<p>"There was nothing but dough," I explained, +"and one batter spoon. And—and—I say, +Angel—"</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked my elder tersely.</p> + +<p>"I—I'm in love something awful. It hurts. +It's like this—" I hurried on—"You feel like +you'd a furnace blazing in you, an' then you turn +cold jus' as if you'd shrivel up, but you <i>never</i>, +<i>never</i>, forget, an'—It's made a 'normous difference +in my life, Angel—"</p> + +<p>I got no further. Angel had thrown himself +backward on the bed and, kicking his bare legs +in the air, broke into peals of delighted laughter.</p> + +<p>"It's that yellow-faced little Jenny!" he gurgled, +"Oh, holy smoke!"</p> + +<p>His brutal mirth was short-lived. Mrs. Handsomebody +appeared in the doorway, her face genuinely +shocked at the sight that met her austere +eyes.</p> + +<p>At this hour—such actions—was her house to +be turned into Bedlam?—such indecent display +of limbs—she was sick with shame for Angel—would +discuss his conduct further, with him, tomorrow.</p> + +<p>She waited while I undressed and stood over +us while we said our prayers at the side of the +bed, at last extinguishing the light with a final +admonition to be silent.</p> + +<p>I was bitterly disappointed in Angel. It was +the first time he had failed me utterly. I put +my arms around the sleeping Seraph and cried +myself to sleep.</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>We were awakened by the sonorous music of +the Cathedral chimes. It was Sunday. That +meant stiff white Eton collars, and texts gabbled +between mouthfuls of porridge; and, later, our +three small bodies arrayed in short surplices, and +the long service in the Cathedral. The Seraph +was the very smallest boy in the choir. I think +he was only tolerated there through Margery's +intervention, because it would have broken his +loyal little heart to be separated from Angel and +me. He was highly ornamental too, as he collected +the choir offertory in a little velvet bag, +his tiny surplice jauntily bobbing, and the back of +his neck, as an old lady once said, was more touching +than the sermon.</p> + +<p>Angel had a voice like a flute.</p> + +<p>Beyond the tall choir stalls I could catch fleeting +glimpses of Jane's little face beneath her +daisied hat, looking on the same prayer-book with +Margery. I swelled my chest beneath my surplice +and chanted my very loudest in the hope that +Jane might hear me. "O ye Showers and Dew, +bless ye the Lord: praise him, and magnify him +for ever."</p> + +<p>Her dreamy blue eyes peered over the edge of +the book, the daisies on her hat nodded; she +smiled; I smiled ecstatically back at her; and so +two childish hearts stemmed the flood of praise +that rose above the old grey pillars.</p> + +<p>At dinner, over his bread pudding, The Seraph +murmured in a throaty voice—"When you is in +love, first you burns yike a furnace, an' en you +shwivel up wiv the cold. It's a vewy bad fing to +be in love."</p> + +<p>I threw Angel a bitter look. This was his +doing. So, contemptuously, had he treated my +confidence, made as man to man. To tell the irresponsible +Seraph of all people!</p> + +<p>"What's that, Alexander?" questioned Mrs. +Handsomebody, sharply.</p> + +<p>"It's love," replied The Seraph, meekly, "you +catch it off a girl. John's got it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody sank back in her chair +with a groan.</p> + +<p>"Alexander," she said it solemnly, "I <i>tremble</i> +for your future. You are not the boy your father +was. I tremble for you."</p> + +<p>"John," she continued, turning to me, "you will +come into the parlour with me. I wish to have +a talk with you. David and Alexander, you may +amuse yourselves with one of my bound volumes +of 'The Quiver.'"</p> + +<p>I followed her with burning cheeks into the +stiff apartment where not only her eye was riveted +upon me, but every glittering eye of every stuffed +bird, to say nothing of the pale fixed gaze of Mr. +Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>Needless to recall the lecture I received, the +probing into my reluctant heart, the admonition +which I could not heed for my fearful watching +of that hard grey face.</p> + +<p>But, at last, it was over. I slipped into the +hall, closing the door softly behind me, and +listened. Silence abounded. On tiptoe I made +my way to the kitchen. It was clean and empty. +I noiselessly opened the back door. On the doorstep +sat The Seraph busily engaged with a caterpillar.</p> + +<p>"Where's Angel?" I demanded curtly.</p> + +<p>"I fink," breathed The Seraph, stroking the +caterpillar the wrong way, and then looking at +his fingers, "I fink that he's witin' to father to +tell on you. So there!"</p> + +<p>I waited to hear no more. Casting my care +behind me I sped lightly along the passage between +the houses, crossed the Bishop's lawn, and +sought Jane in the garden.</p> + +<p>There I stood a moment, dazzled, by the +golden August sunshine, the iridescent spray of +the fountain, and the brilliant colours of the +hollyhocks beside the wall.</p> + +<p>I saw Jane there, and my heart swelled with +disappointment and rage—for she was not alone!</p> + +<p>Too late I repented my confidence to Angel; +I might have known that he would never let +the grass grow under his feet till he had tasted +this new excitement. Well, he had not let the +grass grow.</p> + +<p>Jane, I remember, had on a pale blue sash, +and a fluffy white frock, beneath the frills of +which, her slender black silk legs moved airily. +By her side sauntered the traitorous Angel, his +head bent toward her tenderly, and, most +sickening of all, pushing before him, with an +air of proprietorship, the perambulator containing +the doll, Dorothea. Jane was simpering up +at him in a way she had never looked at me.</p> + +<p>I saw at a glance that all was over, yet I was +not to be cast aside thus lightly. I strode across +the garden, and, pushing myself between them, +I laid my hand masterfully on the handle of the +"pram," beside Angel's. Neither of them uttered +a word. So the three of us walked for +a space in tense silence.</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, Angel began to hammer my +hand with his fist.</p> + +<p>"You let go of that!" he snarled. "Ge—tout +of here!"</p> + +<p>"I won't!" I roared tragically. "She said I +was the fa-ather of it!"</p> + +<p>"She did not!" yelled Angel. "I'm the +father!"</p> + +<p>Jenny glanced fearfully at the windows of the +Bishop's house. All was silent there. Then, +with a scornful little kick at me, she said—"Go +'way, you nasty boy! <i>I</i> don't want you. I only +like Angel."</p> + +<p>There was nothing more to be said. I hung +my head, and, with a sob in my throat, turned +away. I could hear them whispering behind +me.</p> + +<p>Before I reached our own yard Angel came +running after me.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what I'll do, John," he said, as he +came abreast, "tell you what I'll do—I'll fight you +for her. Like knights of old, you know. We +could go down to the coal cellar, and have a +reg'lar tourney. It'd be bully fun. We could +have pokers for lances. Say, will you?"</p> + +<p>I was not in a fighting mood, but I had never +refused a challenge, and, somehow, the thought +of bloodshed eased my pain a little. So, half-reluctantly, +I followed him, as he eagerly led the +way to the coal cellar.</p> + +<p>Even on this August day it was cold down +there. Long cobwebs trailed, spectre-like from +the beams, and a faint squeaking of young mice +could be heard in the walls.</p> + +<p>We searched among the débris of years for +suitable weapons. Finally, brandishing pokers, +and with two rusty boiler lids for shields, we +faced each other, uttering our respective battle +cries in muffled tones. Angel had put a battered +coal scuttle over his head for a helmet; and, +through a break in it, I could see his dark eyes +gleaming threateningly.</p> + +<p>With ring of shield we clashed together. I +delivered—and received—stunning blows. Dust, +long undisturbed, rose, and blinded us.</p> + +<p>How many a gallant fray has been broken up +by a screaming woman! Now Mary Ellen, true +to the perversity of her sex, rushed in to separate +us.</p> + +<p>"Oh, losh! I never seen the beat o' ye!" she +cried. "Ye've scairt me out av a year's growth! +Sure the missus'll put a tin ear on ye, if she catches +ye in the cellar in yer collars an' all!" Imperiously +she disarmed us, and, without ceremony, we +were hustled up the dark stairs to the kitchen sink.</p> + +<p>"It was a tournament, Mary Ellen, about a +lady," I explained, with as much dignity as I +could muster, "you shouldn't have interrupted."</p> + +<p>"There ain't a lady livin' that's worth messin' +up yer clane clothes for," said Mary Ellen, +sternly. "Lord! To see the cinders in yer hair, +an' the soot in yer ears—it does bate all—" As +she talked, she scrubbed us vehemently with a +washcloth.</p> + +<p>"Ouch!" moaned Angel, "oh, Mary El-len, +you're <i>hurting</i> me! That's my so-ore spot, +eeeoow!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Master Angel," said Mary Ellen, "I +don't want to hurt ye, but it do make me heart-sick +to see ye bashin' aitch other wid pokers for +the sake av a bit girl that's not worth a tinker's +curse to ye! Now thin—here's a piece of cowld +puddin' to each av ye—sit on the durestep where +the missus won't see ye, an' git outside av it."</p> + +<p>In a chastened mood we sat outside the back +door and ate our pudding. It was cold, clammy, +very sweet, and deliciously satisfying.</p> + +<p>To our right the wall excluded any glimpse of +the Bishop's garden, and beyond loomed the +Cathedral, with two grey pigeons circling about +its spire.</p> + +<p>I yearned to know what was going on beyond +the wall. I could not help fancying that Jane, +touched by remorse, was weeping by the fountain +for me, and me only. Angel spoke.</p> + +<p>"I say—" he hunched his shoulders mischievously—"let's +go 'round and see what she's +doin' all alone, eh?"</p> + +<p>I leaped to the proposal. I had an insatiable desire to hear her speak once more, if it were +only to taunt me.</p> + +<p>We made the passage stealthily; all the world +seemed drowsing on that hazy Sunday afternoon. +The blinds in the Bishop's study were drawn. +Little did he guess the life his great-niece led!</p> + +<p>The grass was like moist velvet beneath our +feet. A pair of sparrows were quarrelling over +their bath at the fountain rim. We heard a low +murmur of voices. A glint of Jane's white frock +could be seen behind a guelder rose near the +fountain. We crept up behind and peered +through the foliage.</p> + +<p>There on a garden bench sat Jane, and there, +clasped in her slim white arms was—The Seraph! +The wretched Dorothea lay, face downward, on +the grass at their feet.</p> + +<p>We strained our ears to hear what was being +said. Jane spoke in that silvery voice of hers:</p> + +<p>"Say some more drefful things, Seraph. I jus' +love to hear you."</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence; then, The +Seraph said in his blandest tone, the one word—</p> + +<p>"Blood!"</p> + +<p>Jane gave a tiny, ecstatic shriek.</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on!" she begged, "say more."</p> + +<p>"Blood," repeated The Seraph, firmly, "Hot +blood—told blood—wed blood—thick blood—thin +blood—bad blood."</p> + +<p>Again Jane squealed in fearful pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Go on," she urged. "Worser."</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, The Seraph rapped out, without +more ado, "Tiger blood—ephelant blood—caterpillar +blood—ole witch blood"—then, after +a pause, that the horror of it might sink deep in—"Baby +blood!"</p> + +<p>Angel and I gave each other a look of enlightenment. +It was gore then, that this delicately +nurtured young person craved, good red +gore, and plenty of it! Well—enough—we were +free. Wait! What was she saying?</p> + +<p>"I <i>hate</i> those other boys, Seraph, darling. +Let's jus' you and me play together always. And +you should be Dorothea's <i>father</i>, and Dorothea +should want to paddle in the—"</p> + +<p>Away! Away! With sardonic laughter, we +sped along the pebbled drive, nor stopped until +we reached our own domain.</p> + +<p>Then in the planked back yard, we sat on our +steps, with a volume of "The Quiver" on our +knees, in case Mrs. Handsomebody should invade +our privacy, and played a rollicking game of +pirates. And when any of the fair sex fell into +our hands we were none too gentle with them.</p> + +<p>"Chuck 'em overboard, lieutenant!" was Captain +Angel's way of dealing with the case.</p> + +<p>Just as the Cathedral clock struck five, The +Seraph swaggered up. He stopped before us, +hands deep in pockets.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Angel, eyeing him resentfully, +"you'll make a nice bishop, you will, usin' the +language we heard a bit ago!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe I shan't have time to be a bishop, after +all," replied The Seraph, condescendingly. +"You see I'm goin' to mawy Jane. It'll keep me +vewy busy."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch3">Chapter III: Explorers of the +Dawn</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Fast on the wingèd heels of Love came our discovery +of the Dawn. Of course we had known +all along that there was a sunrise—a mechanical +sort of affair that started things going like clockwork. +But Dawn was a bird of another feather.</p> + +<p>If we had had our parents with us they would +have, in all likelihood, unfolded the mystery of +it in some bedtime visit; but Mrs. Handsomebody, +if she ever thought about the Dawn at all, +probably looked on it with suspicion, and some +disfavour, as a weak, feeble thing—a nebulous +period fit neither for honest folk nor cutthroats.</p> + +<p>So it came about that we heard of it from our +good friend the Bishop. Mrs. Handsomebody +had given a grudging permission for us to take +tea with him. In hot weather her voice and eyes +always seemed frostier than usual. The closely +shut windows and drawn blinds made the house +a prison, and the glare of the planked back yard +was even more intolerable. Therefore, when +Rawlins, the Bishop's butler, told us that we were +to have tea in the garden, it was hard for us to +remember Mrs. Handsomebody's injunction to +walk sedately and to bear in mind that our host +was a bishop.</p> + +<p>But, as we crossed the cool lawn, our spirits, +which had drooped all day, like flags at half-mast, +rose, and fluttered in the summer breeze, +and we could not resist a caper or two as we approached +the tea-table.</p> + +<p>The Bishop did not even see us. His fine +grave face was buried in a book he had on his +knees, and his gaitered legs were bent so that he +toed in.</p> + +<p>When we drew up before him, Angel and I in +stiff Eton collars and The Seraph fresh as a daisy, +in a clean white sailor blouse, he raised his eyes +and gave us a vague smile, and a wave of the +hand toward three low wicker chairs. We were +not a bit abashed by this reception, for we knew +the Bishop's ways, and it was joy enough that +we were safe in his garden staring up at the blue +sky through flickering leaves, and listening to the +splash of the little fountain that lived in the middle +of the cool grass plot.</p> + +<p>Surely, I thought, there never was such another +garden—never another with such a rosy red +brick wall, half-hidden by hollyhocks and larkspur—such springy, tender grass—such a great +guardian Cathedral, that towered above and +threw its deep beneficent shade! Here the timorous +Cathedral pigeons strutted unafraid, and +dipped their heads to drink of the fountain, raising +them Heavenward, as they swallowed—thanking +God, so the Bishop said, for its refreshment.</p> + +<p>It was hard to believe that next door, beyond +the wall, lay Mrs. Handsomebody's planked back +yard. Yet even at that moment I could see the +tall, narrow house, and fancied that a blind +moved as Mrs. Handsomebody peered down into +the Bishop's garden to see how we behaved.</p> + +<p>Rawlins brought a tray and set it on the wicker +table beside the Bishop's elbow. We discovered +a silver muffin dish, a plate of cakes, and a glass +pot of honey, to say nothing of the tea.</p> + +<p>Still the Bishop kept his gaze buried in his +book, marking his progress with a blade of grass. +Rawlins stole away without speaking and we three +were left alone to stare in mute desire at the tea +things. A bee was buzzing noisily about the +honey jar. It was The Seraph who spoke at last, +his hands clasped across his stomach.</p> + +<p>"Bishop," he said, politely, but firmly. "I +would yike a little nushment."</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" cried the Bishop. "Wherever are +my manners?" And he closed the book sharply +on the grass blade, and dropped it under the table. +"John, will you pour tea for us?"</p> + +<p>We finished the muffins and cake, all talking +with our mouths full, in the most sociable and +sensible way; and, after the honey pot was almost +empty, we made the bee a prisoner in it, so that, +like that Duke of Clarence, who was drowned in +a butt of Malmsey, he got enough of what he +liked at last.</p> + +<p>I think it was Angel who put the question that +was to lead to so much that was exciting and +mysterious.</p> + +<p>He said, leaning against the Bishop's shoulder: +"What do you think is the most beautiful thing +in the world, Bishop?"</p> + +<p>Our friend had The Seraph between his knees, +and was gazing at the back of his head. "Well," +he replied, "since you ask me seriously, I should +say this little curl on The Seraph's nape."</p> + +<p>The Seraph felt for it.</p> + +<p>"I yike it," he said, "but I yike my wart better."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious," exclaimed the Bishop. +"Don't tell me <i>you've</i> a wart!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a weal one," chuckled The Seraph. "It's +little, but it's gwowing. I fink some day it'll be +as big as the one on Mrs. Handsomebody's chin. +<i>It can wiggle.</i>"</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" said the Bishop, rather +hastily. "And where do you suppose you got +it?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph smiled mischievously. "I fink I +got it off a toad we had. He was an awful dear +ole toad, but he died, 'cos we—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, don't bother about the old toad, +Seraph!" put in Angel hastily, feeling, as I did, +that the manner of the toad's demise was best +left to conjecture. "We want to hear about the +most beautiful thing in the world. Please tell +it, Bishop!"</p> + +<p>"Well—since you corner me," said the Bishop, +his eyes on the larkspur, "I should say it is the +wing of that pale blue butterfly, hovering above +those deep blue flowers."</p> + +<p>Angel's face fell. "Oh, I didn't mean a little +thing like that," he said. "I meant a 'normous, +wonderful thing. Something that you couldn't +<i>ever</i> forget."</p> + +<p>"Well—if you will have it," said the Bishop, +"come close and I'll whisper." Instantly three +heads hedged him in, and he said in a sonorous +undertone—"<i>It's the Dawn.</i>"</p> + +<p>"The Dawn!" We three repeated the magic +words on the same note of secrecy. "But what is +it like? How can we get to it? Is it like the +sunset?"</p> + +<p>"I won't explain a bit of it," he replied. +"You've got to seek it out for yourselves. It's +a pity, though, you can't see it first in the country."</p> + +<p>"Must we get up in the dark?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I think your tallest attic window faces +the east. You must steal up there while it's still +grey daylight. Have the windows open so that +you can hear and smell, as well as see it. But +I'm afraid the dear Seraph's too little."</p> + +<p>"Not me," asserted The Seraph, stoutly. +"I'm stwong as two ephelants."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't be frightened when you hear its +wings," said the Bishop, "nor be abashed at the +splendour of it, for it was designed for just such +little fellows as you. You will come and tell me +then what happens, won't you? I shall probably +never waken early enough to see it again."...</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>Though we played games after this, and the +Bishop made a very satisfactory lion prowling +about in a jungle of wicker chairs and table legs, +we none of us quite lost sight of the adventure +in store for us. Somewhere in the back of our +heads lurked the thought of the Dawn with its +suggestion of splendid mystery.</p> + +<p>We were no sooner at home again than we set +about discussing ways and means.</p> + +<p>"The chief thing," said Angel, "is to waken +about four. We have no alarm clock, so I s'pose +we'll just have to take turns in keeping watch all +night. The hall clock strikes, so we can watch +hour about."</p> + +<p>"I'll take first watch!" put in The Seraph, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"You'll take just what's given to you, and no +questions, young man," said Angel, out of the +side of his mouth, and The Seraph subsided, +crushed.</p> + +<p>Came bedtime at last, and the three of us in +the big four-poster; the door shut upon the world +of Mrs. Handsomebody, and the windows firmly +barred against burglars and night air.</p> + +<p>Angel announced: "First watch for me! +You go right to sleep, John, and I'll wake you +when the clock strikes ten. Then you'll feel nice +and fresh for your watch."</p> + +<p>But I wasn't at all sleepy and we lay in the +dusk and talked till the familiar harsh voice of +the hall clock rasped out nine o'clock.</p> + +<p>"You go to sleep, please John," whispered +Angel in a drowsy voice, "and I'll watch till ten."</p> + +<p>I felt drowsy too, so I put my arm about the +slumbering Seraph and soon fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me but a moment when Angel +roused me. I know I had barely settled down +to an enjoyable dream in which I was the only +customer in an ice-cream parlour, where there +were seven waitresses, each one obsequiously +proffering a different flavour.</p> + +<p>"Second watch on deck!" whispered Angel, +hoarsely—"and look lively!"</p> + +<p>"But I'd only just put my spoon in the strawberry +ice," I moaned. "Can't be ten minutes yet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say," complained Angel, "don't you +s'pose I know when the old clock strikes ten? +You've been sleepin' like a drunken pirate and +no mistake. Must be near eleven by now."</p> + +<p>"I'll just see for myself," I declared. "I'll go +and look at the schoolroom clock." And I began +to scramble over him.</p> + +<p>"You will not then—" muttered Angel, clutching +me. "I shan't let you!"</p> + +<p>"You won't, eh? If it's really ten you needn't +care, need you!"</p> + +<p>"Course it's ten—It's nearer eleven, but you're +going to do what I say."</p> + +<p>At that we came to grips and fought and +floundered till the bed rocked, and the poor little +Seraph clung to his pillow as a shipwrecked sailor +to a raft in a stormy sea. Exhaustion alone +made us stop for breath; still we clung desperately +to each other, our small bodies pressed hotly +together, Angel's nose flattened against my ear. +The Seraph snuggled up to us. "Just you wait"—breathed +Angel—his hands tightened on me, +then relaxed—his legs twitched—"Strawberry or +pineapple, sir?" came the dulcet tones of the waitress. +I was in my ice-cream parlour again! +Seven flavours were laid before me. I fell to, +for I was hot and thirsty.</p> + +<p>I was disturbed by The Seraph, singing his +morning song. It was a tuneless drone, yet not +unmusical. Always the first to open his eyes in +the morning, he began his day with a sort of +Saga of his exploits of the day before, usually +meaningless to us but fraught with colour from +his own peculiar sphere. At last he laughed outright—a +Jovian laugh—at some remembered +prank—and I rubbed my eyes and came to full +consciousness. The sun was slanting through +the shutters. Where, oh where, was the Dawn?</p> + +<p>I turned to look at Angel. He was staring +at the slanting beam and swearing softly, as he +well knew how.</p> + +<p>"We'll simply have to try again"—I said. +"But however are we going to put in today?"</p> + +<p>The problem solved itself as all problems will +and the day passed, following the usual landmarks +of porridge, arithmetic, spelling, scoldings, +mutton, a walk with our governess, bread and +butter, prayers, and the (for once, longed for!) +<i>bed</i>.</p> + +<p>That night we decided to lie awake together; +passing the time with stories, and speculation +about the mystery so soon to be explored by us. +I told the first story, a long-drawn adventure of +shipwreck, mutiny and coral Caves, with a fair +sprinkling of skeletons to keep us broad awake.</p> + +<p>"It was a first-rate tale," sighed Angel, contentedly, +when I had done, "an' you told it +awfully well, John. If you like you may just +tell another 'stead o' me. Or The Seraph can +tell one. Go ahead, Seraph, and make up the +best story you know how."</p> + +<p>The Seraph, important, but sleepy, climbed +over me, so that he might be in the middle, and +then began, in a husky little voice:</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time there was fwee bwothers, all +vwey nice, but the youngest was the bwavest an' +stwongest of the fwee. He was as stwong as two +bulls, an' he'd kill a dwagon before bweakfast, an' +never be cocky about it—"</p> + +<p>Angel and I groaned in unison. We could not +tolerate this sort of self-adulation from our junior. +"Don't be such a little beast"—we admonished, +and covered his head with a pillow. The Seraph +was wont to accept such discipline, at our hands, +philosophically, with no unseemly outcries or +struggles; as a matter of fact, when we uncovered +his head, we could tell by his even, reposeful +breathing that he was fast asleep. It was too +dark to see his face, but I could imagine his complacent +smile.</p> + +<p>The night sped quickly after that. There was +some desultory talk; then Angel, too, slept; I resolved +to keep the watch alone. I heard the +sound of footsteps in the street below, echoing, +with a lonely sound; the rattle of a loose shutter +in a sudden gust of wind; then, dead silence, +followed after an interval by the scampering, and +angry squeak of mice in the wall....</p> + +<p>The mice disturbed me again. There was a +shattering of loose plaster; and suddenly opening +my eyes, I saw the ghost of grey daylight stealing +underneath the blind. The time had come!</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>Silently the three of us stole up the uncarpeted +attic stair. It was unknown territory to us, having +been forbidden from the first by Mrs. Handsomebody, +and all we had ever seen from the hall +below was a cramped passage, guarded by three +closed doors. Time and time again we had been +tempted to explore it, but there was a sinister +aloofness about it that had hitherto repelled us. +Now, however, it had become but a pathway to +the Dawn, and, as we clutched the bannisters, we +imagined ourselves three pilgrims fearfully climbing +toward light and beauty.</p> + +<p>Angel stood first at the top. Gently he tried +two doors in succession, which were locked. The +third gave, harshly—it seemed to me, grudgingly.</p> + +<p>The Seraph and I pressed close behind Angel, +glad of the warm contact of each other's bodies.</p> + +<p>In the large attic room, the air was stifling, and +the sloping roof, from which dim cobwebs were +draped, seemed to press toward the dark shapes +of discarded furniture as though to guard some +fearful secret. It took all our courage to grope +our way to the low casement, and it was a struggle +to dislodge the rusty bolt, and press the window +out on its unused hinges. It creaked so loudly +that we held our breath for a moment, but we +drew it again with a sharp sensation of relief, as +thirsty young animals drink, for fresh night air, +sweet, stinging to the nostrils, had surged in upon +us, sweeping away fear, and loneliness, and the +hot depression of the attic room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody's house was tall, and we +could look down upon many roofs and chimneys. +They huddled together in the soft grey light as +though waiting for some great happening which +they expected, but did not understand. They +wore an air of expectancy and humility. Little +low-roofed out-houses pressed close to high walls +for shelter, and a frosty white skylight stared up-ward +fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Is this the Dawn?" came from The Seraph, +in a tiny voice.</p> + +<p>"Only the beginning of it," I whispered back. +"There's two stars left over from the night—see! +that big blue one in the east, and the little white +one just above the cobbler's chimney."</p> + +<p>"Will they be afwaid of the Dawn, when it +comes?"</p> + +<p>"Rather. I shouldn't be surprised if the big +fellow bolted right across the sky, and the little +one will p'raps fall down the cobbler's chimney +into his work-room."</p> + +<p>The Seraph was enchanted. "Then the +cobbler'll sew him wight up in the sole of a shoe, +an' the boy who wears the shoe will twinkle when +he wuns, won't he? Oh, it's coming now! I +hear it. I'm afwaid."</p> + +<p>"That's not the Dawn," said Angel, "that's the +night flying away."</p> + +<p>It was true that there came to us then a rushing +sound, as of strong wings; our hair was lifted from +our hot foreheads; and the casement rattled on +its hinges.</p> + +<p>This wind, that came from the wings of night, +was sharp with the fragrance of heather and the +sea. One fancied how it would surge through the +dim aisles of cathedral-like forests, ruffling the +plumage of drowsy birds, stirring the surface of +some dark pool, where the trout still slept, and +making sibilant music among the drooping reeds.</p> + +<p>The sky had now become delicately luminous, +and a streak of saffron showed above the farthest +roofs; a flock of little clouds huddled together +above this, like timorous sheep at graze. The +white star hung just above the cobbler's chimney, +dangerously near, it seemed to us, who watched.</p> + +<p>There were only two of us at the window now, +for Angel had stolen away to explore every corner +of the new environment, as was his custom. I +could hear the soft opening and shutting of bureau +drawers, and once, a grunting and straining, as of +one engaged in severe manual labour.</p> + +<p>A low whistle drew me to his side.</p> + +<p>"What's up?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"Got this little old trunk open at last," he +muttered, "full of women's junk. Funny stuff. +Look."</p> + +<p>Our heads touched as we bent curiously over +the contents. It was a dingy and insignificant box +on the outside, but it was lined with a gaily +coloured paper, on which nosegays of spring +flowers bent beneath the weight of silver butterflies, +and sad-eyed cockatoos. The trays were +full, as Angel had said, of women's things; +delicate, ruffly frocks of pink and lilac; and undergarments +edged with yellowing lace. A sweet +scent rose from them, as of some gentle presence +that strove to reach the light and air once more. +A pair of little white kid slippers looked as though +they longed to twinkle in and out beneath a soft +silk skirt. Angel's mischievous brown hands +dived among the light folds, discovering opera +glasses,—(treasures to be secured if possible, +against some future South Sea expedition), an inlaid +box of old-fashioned trinkets, a coral necklace, +gold-tasselled earrings, and a brooch of +tortured locks of hair.</p> + +<p>Angel's eyes were dancing above a gauze fan +held coquettishly against his mouth of an impudent +boy, but I gave no heed to him; I was busy with a +velvet work-box that promised a solution of the +mystery—for hidden away with thimble and +scissors as one would secrete a treasure, was a fat +little book, "The Mysteries of Udolpho." +Some one had drawn on the fly leaf, very beautifully, +I thought, a ribbed sea-shell, and on it had +printed the words, "Lucy from Charles;" and on +a scroll beneath the shell, in microscopic characters—"Bide +the Time!"</p> + +<p>My brother was looking over my shoulder now. +We were filled with conjecture.</p> + +<p>"Lucy," said Angel, "owned all this stuff, and +Charles was her lover, of course. But who was +she? Mrs. Handsomebody never had a daughter, +I know, and if she had she'd never have allowed +her to wear these things. Look how she jaws +when Mary Ellen spends her wage on finery. I'll +bet Lucy was a beauty. And she's dead too, you +can bet, and Charles was her lover, and likely he's +dead too. 'Bide the time,' eh? You see they're +waitin' around yet—<i>somewheres</i>. Isn't it queer?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph's voice came from the window in +a sort of chant:</p> + +<p>"The little white star has fallen down the +cobbler's chimney!</p> + +<p>"It has fallen down, and the cobbler is sewing +it into a shoe!</p> + +<p>"A milkman is wunning down the stweet!</p> + +<p>"Tell you what," whispered Angel, "I'll show +you what Lucy was like—just a little. I'll make +a picture of her."</p> + +<p>The space between two tall chests of drawers +formed a sort of alcove in which stood a pier +glass, whose tarnished frame was draped in +white net. Before it Angel drew (without much +caution) a high-backed chair, and on it he began +his picture.</p> + +<p>Over the seat and almost touching the floor, he +draped a frilled petticoat, and against the back +of the chair (with a foundation of formidable +stays for support) he hung a garment, which, +even then, he seemed to know for a camisole. +Over all he laid a charming lilac silk gown, and +under the hem in the most natural attitude peeped +the little party slippers. A small lace and velvet +bonnet with streamers was hung at the apex of +the creation, and in her lap (for the time has +come to use the feminine pronoun) he spread +the gauzy fan. He hung over her tenderly, as +an artist over his subject—each fold must be in +place—the empty sleeves curved just so—one +fancied a rounded chin beneath the velvet +streamers, so artfully was it adjusted. Her reflection +in the pier glass was superb!</p> + +<p>"It is here!" chanted The Seraph. "Evwy bit +of evwy fing is shinin'! Oh, Angel an' John, +<i>please</i> look!"</p> + +<p>We flew to the window and leaned across the +sill.</p> + +<p>It was a happy world that morning, glowing +in the sweetest dawn that ever broke over roofs +and chimney pots. The earth sang as she danced +her dewy way among the paling stars. The little +grey clouds blushed pink against the azure sky. +Blossoming boughs of peach and apricot hung +over the gates of heaven, and rosy spirals curled +upward from two chimneys. Pink-footed +pigeons strutted, rooketty-cooing along the roofs. +They nodded their heads as though to affirm +the consummation of a miracle. "It is so—" +they seemed to say—"It is indeed so—" One +of them hopped upon the cobbler's chimney, peering +earnestly into its depths. "It sees the star!" +shouted The Seraph. "It sees the star and nods +to it. 'I am higher now than you'—it says!"</p> + +<p>Something—was it a breath? a sigh?—made +me look back into the attic where Lucy's clothes +clung to the high-backed chair, like flower petals +blown against a wall. The pier-glass had +caught all the glory of the morning and was releasing +it in quivering spears of light that dazzled me for a moment; I rubbed my eyes, and +stared, and shook a little, for in the midst of +all this splendour I saw Lucy! No pallid, rigid +ghost, but something warm, eager with life, +spreading the folds of the lilac gown like a butterfly +warming its new wings in the strength of +the sun.</p> + +<p>Her bosom rose and fell quickly, her eyes were +fixed on me with a beseeching look, it seemed. I +drew nearer—near enough to smell the faint perfume +of her, and I saw then that she was not +looking at me, but at the fat little book of "The +Mysteries of Udolpho" which I still held in my +hands. The book that Charles had given her! +"Bide the time!" he had written, but she could +bide the time no longer.</p> + +<p>Proud as any knight before his lady, I strode +forward, and pressed the book into her hands—saw +her slender fingers curl around it—heard her +little gasp of joy. I should not have been at all +surprised had the door opened and Charles +walked in.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, the door <i>did</i> open and—Mrs. +Handsomebody walked in.</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>She gave a sort of gurgling cry, as though she +were being strangled. Angel and The Seraph +faced about to look at her in consternation, their +hair wild in the wind, and the rising sun making +an aureole about them. The four of us stared +at each other in silence for a space, while the +attic-room, with its cobwebs reeled—the sun rose, +and sank, like a floundering ship, and Mrs. Handsomebody +resembling, in my fancy, a hungry +spider, in curl papers, considered which victim +was ripest for slaughter.</p> + +<p>"You—and you—and you—" she gobbled. +"Oh, to think of it! No place safe! What you +need is a <i>strong</i> man. <i>We</i> shall see! The very +windows—burst from their bolts!" She +slammed the casement and secured it, Angel and +The Seraph darting from her path.</p> + +<p>"Even a dead woman's clothes—to make a +scarecrow of!" She pounced—I hid my face +while she did it, but I heard a sinister rustling +and the snap of a trunk lid. It was over. +"Bide the time."</p> + +<p>Ignominiously she herded us down the stairs; +The Seraph making only one step at a time, led +the way. Far down the drab vista of the back +stairs that ended in the scullery, Mary Ellen's +red, round face was seen for a moment, like a +second rising sun, but vanished as suddenly as it +had appeared, at a shout from Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>We were in the schoolroom now, placed before +her in a row, as was her wont in times of retribution. +Seated behind her desk she wore her +purple dressing gown with magisterial dignity; +the wart upon her chin quivered as she prepared +to speak.</p> + +<p>"Now, David," she said, rapping Angel +smartly on the head, "can you say anything +in explanation of this outrage upon my property? +Hold your head up and toe out, please."</p> + +<p>Angel looked at his hands. "Nuffin' to explain," +he said sulkily. "Just went an' did it."</p> + +<p>"Oh I thought so," said our governess. "It +was just one of these seemingly irresistible impulses +that have so often proved disastrous for all +concerned. If your father knew—" she bit off +the words as though they had a pleasant, if acrid +taste—"if your poor father knew of your criminal +proclivities, he would be a <i>crushed</i> man. A +<i>crushed man</i>."</p> + +<p>The Seraph was staring at her chin.</p> + +<p>Then—"I have one too," he said gently.</p> + +<p>"One <i>what</i>?" Her tone should have warned +him. "One wart," he went on, with easy +modesty. "It's just a little one. It can't wiggle—like +yours—but it's gwowing nicely. +Would you care to see it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody affected not to hear him. +She stared sombrely at Angel and me, but I believe +The Seraph sealed our fate, for, after a +moment's deliberation, she said curtly; "I shall +have to beat you for this."</p> + +<p>She gave us six apiece, and I could not help +noticing that, though The Seraph was the youngest +and tenderest, his six were the most stinging.</p> + +<p>When we had been sent to our bedroom to +say our prayers, and change our pitifully inadequate +night clothes for day things, I put the +question that was burning in my mind.</p> + +<p>"Did either of you see <i>her</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Lucy, sitting there in the chair."</p> + +<p>Angel's brown eyes were blank.</p> + +<p>"I saw her <i>clothes</i>. What sickens me is that +the dragon took that spy-glass. You see if I +don't get it yet." (Mrs. Handsomebody was +"the dragon" in our vernacular.)</p> + +"Did <i>you</i> see her, Seraph?" + +<p>The Seraph was sitting on the floor, his head +on his knees. He raised a tear-flushed face.</p> + +<p>"I'm 'most too cwushed to wemember," he +said, huskily. "But I <i>fink</i> Lucy was fat. It's +a vewy bad fing to be fat, 'cos the cane hurts +worser."</p> + +<p>I turned from such infantile imbecility to the +exhilarating reflection that I was the only one to +whom Lucy had shown herself—her chosen +knight!</p> + +<p>I was burning to do her service, yet the passage +that led to the attic stronghold was well guarded. +Two days had passed before I made the attempt. +I had been sent upstairs from the tea-table to +wash my hands—though they were only comfortably +soiled—and after I had dipped them in +a basin of water that had done service for both +Angel and The Seraph, I gave them a good rub +on my trouser legs, as I tip-toed to the foot of +the attic stairs. Cautiously, with fast-beating +heart, I mounted, and tried the door. It was +locked fast. I pressed my eye against the keyhole, +and made out in the gloom the dark shape +of the trunk, sinister, forbidding, inaccessible. +No rustle of lilac silk, no faintest perfume, no +appealing sigh from the gentle Lucy greeted me. +All was dark and quiet. "Bide the time!" Who +knew but that some day I might set her free?</p> + +<p>Yet my throat ached as I slowly made my way +back to the table, presented my hands for a rather +sceptical inspection by Mrs. Handsomebody, and +dropped languidly into my seat.</p> + +<p>The Seraph gave me a look of sympathy—even +understanding—perhaps he had heard me +mount the distant attic stairs; his hearing was +wonderfully acute. He chewed in silence for a +moment and then he made one of those seemingly +irrelevant remarks of his that, somehow, always +set our little world a-rocking.</p> + +<p>"One fing about Lucy," he said, "she was always +sweet-tempud."</p> + +<p>"Who?" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"Lucy—" repeated The Seraph. "Such a +sweet-tempud gell."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody leaned over him, and gobbled +and threatened. The Seraph preserved a +remarkable calm, considering that he was the +storm centre. He even raised his small forefinger +before his face and looked at it thoughtfully. +His speculative gaze travelled from it to +Mrs. Handsomebody's chin. I perceived then +that he was comparing warts!</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch4">Chapter IV: A Merry +Interlude</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>My brothers and I were hanging over the gate +that barred our way to the outer world, and singing, +as loudly as we could, considering the pressure +of the top bar on our young stomachs. We +sang to keep warm, for Mrs. Handsomebody had +decreed that no reefers were to be worn till the +first of December. So, though November was +raw, she maintained her discipline and refused +to mollycoddle us.</p> + +<p>It was the fifth, and Angel chanted in that +flute-like treble of his, that made passersby turn +and smile at him:</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Remember, remember the fifth of November,</p> +<p class="i2">Gunpowder, treason and plot—"</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Then The Seraph added his little pipe:</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"I see no weason why gunpowder tweason</p> +<p class="i2">Should ever be forgot."</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Then we shouted it all together.</p> + +<p>Our neighbour, Mr. Mortimer Pegg, who had +never forgiven us for our share in the treasure +hunt, came out of his house at that moment, and +drew up before us.</p> + +<p>"This noise, you know," he said, in his precise +way, "is affecting my wife's health deleteriously. +She has gone to bed with a migraine."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you put him out," suggested The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>Mr. Pegg eyed him severely, yet I thought I +perceived a twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>"It's Guy Fawkes day," I explained. "You +see, it must never be forgot."</p> + +<p>"It is a mistake in these enlightened days to +keep up such old animosities," replied our neighbour. +"For all you know I might be his +direct descendant. If you must celebrate his undoing, +better take these three sixpences and make +yourselves ill on lemon fizz, or pink marshmallows, +or vile licorice cigars."</p> + +<p>He placed a coin in each outstretched hand, +and, without waiting for thanks, strode briskly +down the street. We gazed after him, knocked +speechless by this great beaker of bounty that +had rolled in upon the flat expanse of our afternoon. +Mr. Pegg, in his shiny top hat and neat +Prince Albert moved away in the ruddy November +sunlight as in a halo of opulence. Never +before had we appreciated the princely turn of his +toes beneath their drab spats, the flash of his +twirled walking-stick. We resolved to keep him +in mind. He was a neighbour worth having. +Angel even suggested certain time-honoured ditties +of boyhood, which, shouted in chorus, would +be almost certain to have a disastrous effect on +a female addicted to migraine.</p> + +<p>A deputation, consisting of The Seraph, then +waited on Mrs. Handsomebody, to explain that +our neighbour, Mr. Pegg, having been charmed +by our singing, had presented us each with a +sixpence, with the earnest injunction that the coin +be expended on currant buns at the grocer's. The +Seraph came back triumphant with the necessary +consent.</p> + +<p>"We can go," he said, "but we're not to take +a bite till we're back home. It's suppwising +she'd let us do it."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," said Angel cynically, "she knows +they'll spoil our appetite for tea."</p> + +<p>The grocer was a fierce, red-bearded man who +kept his wife in a little wooden stall, where she +took in the constant flow of wealth extorted from +his customers.</p> + +<p>We had told The Seraph that she was thus +confined by her gloomy spouse, in order that she +might be fattened for slaughter, and his eyes +were large with pity as he stood on tiptoe to hand +our three sixpences through the little wicket. +The grocer's wife leaned forward to look at him, +her plump underlip, after two futile attempts to +form a chin, subsiding into a large white neck.</p> + +<p>The Seraph's look of pity deepened to horror. +"You must be almost weady," he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Ready? Ready for what, my little love?"</p> + +<p>"Stickin'—oo, will it hurt vewy much?"</p> + +<p>"Bless the child. What <i>does</i> he mean?"</p> + +<p>"He's not very well," I explained. "I think +he's delirious."</p> + +<p>"That's why we brought him here to get a +cool drink," added Angel, hurriedly, and between +us we led the recreant to the little table in the +rear of the shop where the grocer had set out +three glasses of ginger beer and a plate of mixed +cakes. Five minutes of unalloyed bliss followed +and we were just draining off the last dregs and +cleaning up the crumbs, when a bullet-headed boy +stuck his head in at the door.</p> + +<p>"Dorg's 'ere again," he said, laconically. +"Nosin' abaht in the gabbage 'eap."</p> + +<p>"Tie a can on 'is tile," said the grocer.</p> + +<p>The boy disappeared, and the three of us +pushed back our chairs and followed in his wake, +scenting adventure in the littered yard behind +the shop with its strange odours of bygone fruit +and greens.</p> + +<p>The dog, a small, black, Scottish terrier, was +dragging an end of Boulogna sausage from the +garbage heap. The bullet-headed boy winked +at us, selected an empty can from the heap, produced a piece of string from his pocket, and +grasped the terrier by the collar. But only for +a moment. With a rush of concentrated fury +it flew at his legs, gave him a sharp snap, and +darted back to its sausage, with a warning glean +of its eyes in our direction.</p> + +<p>"Ow," yelled the boy, doubling up, "'e's bit +me sumpfin' cruel! You see if I daon't brain 'im +for that!"</p> + +<p>He snatched up an axe and brandished it. +The terrier dropped its sausage and showed its +little pointed teeth.</p> + +<p>We three, with one impulse, flung ourselves +between it and the boy.</p> + +<p>"You dare touch that dog," shouted Angel.</p> + +<p>"Oo's goin' to stop me, Mister Nosey Parker?" +sneered the boy, with a flourish of his axe.</p> + +<p>"I am," said Angel, "'cos it's <i>my</i> dog, see?" +He coolly turned his back on the boy and bent +over the terrier, who came to him cautiously, +sniffing his legs.</p> + +<p>"Your dorg!" scoffed the boy, "w'y daon't yer +feed 'im then? 'E's arf starved, 'e is. Yer +ought to be 'ad up fer perwention of cruelty to +hanimals. It's a disgrice."</p> + +<p>"We've only owned him a little while," explained +Angel, "and he strayed away. He'll be +jolly glad to get home again—won't you, Rover? +Give us that bit of string and I'll lead him."</p> + +<p>The boy, suddenly friendly, in one of those +swiftly changing moods of boyhood, assisted in +the tying of the string to the little dog's collar, +though he cast a longing look at its stout fringed +tail that was so admirably built to further the +riotous bouncings of an empty tin can.</p> + +<p>We led him triumphantly through the shop +into the street, and we trotted in silence for a +space, staring in rapt admiration of the little +black paws that padded along in such a business-like +fashion beside us, the knowingly-pointed +ears, and valiant tail carried at a jaunty angle +above the sturdy hind-quarters.</p> + +<p>When we reached our own quiet street we +stopped. The Seraph looked in the bag of buns.</p> + +<p>"May I give him mine?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Good boy," said Angel, and The Seraph presented +the little dog with the large currant bun. +We were charmed indeed when he sat up for it +in the most approved trained-animal posture, with +short fore-legs crossed on his plump hairy breast. +How often had we longed for the joyous companionship +of our old four-footed friends, the +comfort of a soft warm tongue on one's cheek, +the sensitive muzzle pressed into one's palm, the +look of loving confidence in the deep brown eyes.</p> + +<p>But our governess hated dogs, and we were +expressly forbidden to so much as pat the head +of any stray canine that thrust an inquiring nose +between the bars of her gate. Therefore, it was +with sad foreboding that we watched the bun +disappear. The Scotty held it between his forepaws +and bit off decent mouthfuls, without sign +of greed or haste. By his bearing and by his +shining silver collar we knew that he was, or had +been some one's cherished pet.</p> + +<p>The bun had cheered him wonderfully, for, +as we moved homeward, he leaped playfully at +his leash, and catching it in his teeth, worried it +in an abandon of glee.</p> + +<p>We made no plans. We had no hopes. We +merely were drawn by habit and necessity to the +place where, we knew, desperate trouble awaited +us. At the gate we halted.</p> + +<p>"We might take him into the yard to play for +a little while," I said. "P'raps we could carry +him upstairs wrapped in my coat, and hide him +under the bed. Maybe he'd get so awful good +he'd live under the bed, and we could save our +food for him, and get up nights to play with him."</p> + +<p>As if to show his appreciation of the plan, the +Scotty raised himself on his hind quarters, paddling +the air with his forepaws in excited appeal, +and giving vent to sharp, staccato barks.</p> + +<p>The next instant the front door was thrown +open, and Mary Ellen, her cap askew, dashed +down the steps to meet us.</p> + +<p>"Wheriver have ye been so long?" she +ejaculated. "An' have ye been tould the news? +'Tis hersilf has taken a tumble, an' put her knee +out so the doctor says. I'd jist been clanin' up +the panthry shelves, an' <i>she</i> got up on a chair to +see whether I'd maybe missed the top one, an' +I must have left a knob of soap on the chair, +for the next thing I knew she was stretched on +the flure, an' I had to fetch the doctor, an' he +says she'll have to kape to her room for a fortnight +or more, an' the lord only knows how I'm +to wait on her an' manage the three av ye, wid +yer pranks an' all!"</p> + +<p>The Seraph turned a somersault; then I turned +a somersault; then Angel turned two; then the +Scotty sat up, paddled the air with his forepaws, +and sneezed twice.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen was genuinely shocked.</p> + +<p>"I do belave," she said, solemnly, "that you've +stones in your breasts instid av hearts—but +you're jist like all men folk—if they think there's +a good time in sthore for them, the women can +suffer all they like, more shame to them." She +was so worked up that she did not notice that the +little dog had followed us into the house, until +he was sitting up in the kitchen, his forepaws +paddling the air, his tail thudding on the floor. +Then she said, brimming over with admiration, +though she tried to look severe;</p> + +<p>"And if you think I'll have sthray dawgs in +my kitchen you're very much mistook.... +Aw, it's a darlin' wee thing, isn't it?" For the +Scotty, seeing that she had seated herself, had +jumped to her lap and now sat there, nose in +air, looking superbly at home.</p> + +<p>We closed about her, telling, in chorus, the +story of the bullet-headed boy, and the garbage +heap, and enlarging dramatically on the episode +of the tin can.</p> + +<p>"And may we please keep him?" we entreated, +"just for a few days till we find the owner of +it! Mrs. Handsomebody will never know, for +he can live in the coal cellar 'cept when we take +him little walks on a string!"</p> + +<p>"If you don't let me do this I'll never marry +you, so there!" This from Angel.</p> + +<p>"Have it your own way, thin," moaned Mary +Ellen, capitulating, as usual, under the fire of +Angel's pleading, "but moind, if she iver finds us +out, it's mesilf will be walkin' the streets widout +a character."</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>So began a merry interlude in the drabness of +the Handsomebody regime. Mrs. Handsomebody +kept to her room for nearly three weeks, unable +to put her foot to the floor. On the first +evening, she called us to her bedside; and, while +we stood in a row, bewildered before the phenomenon of seeing her prostrate, she lectured us +solemnly on the duties and responsibilities of our +position, and implored us not to make the period +of her enforced retirement a nightmare, because +of our pranks. We promised, marvelling that +bed-clothes could be kept so tidy, and fervently +wishing she would display the knee that had been +so severely "put out." It was a commonplace +for Mrs. Handsomebody's temper to be thus +afflicted, but her knee, never.</p> + +<p>When we returned to the kitchen, we found +Mary Ellen sitting in a pensive attitude. Her +forefinger pressed against her knit brow, her +stout ankles crossed.</p> + +<p>"The little dawg has been tellin' me a secret," +she volunteered in explanation, "a deep, dark secret. +She's been tellin' me in a way of spakin' +that she's a lady-dawg, God help her."</p> + +<p>"But how did she tell you, Mary Ellen? Did +she speak out loud?" We were breathless with +excitement.</p> + +<p>"She did not. I ast her, for I had me suspicion, +if she was a lady-dawg an' I sez—'If yez +are wag yer tail three times,' an' the words was +scarce off me tongue, whin she wagged her tail +three times."</p> + +<p>It was a marvel. Oh, these were going to be +great days!</p> + +<p>"If you're a lady-dog, wag your tail three +times," I ordered, squatting to peer into the +sagacious brown eyes.</p> + +<p>Three times the stocky tail thumped the floor.</p> + +<p>Then Angel put the question, and was answered +with equal promptitude.</p> + +<p>It was The Seraph's turn. With an insinuating +smile he said: "If you are a gennelman dog +wag your tail fwee times."</p> + +<p>But before there was time for so much as one +wag, Mary Ellen caught the too-eager tail in a +restraining grasp.</p> + +<p>"Now have done wid your nonsinse," she commanded. +"Ye'll have the pore crature that worried +it'll set up barkin', an' if the misthress did +know, there be's a dawg in the house, she'd likely +just throw a fit an' die."</p> + +<p>"Is it a vewy barkable dog?" queried The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>"All dogs is barkable," said Mary Ellen, "and +what we'll have to do is to kape her as quate as +possible and pray that her owner'll come along +this way, for turn her out I will not. It's easy +seein' she's a pet be the ways of her."</p> + +<p>"It says 'Giftie' on her collar," Angel announced, +separating the short, shaggy coat to +read. "That must be her name. Hello, Giftie! +Sit up, Giftie!"</p> + +<p>So Giftie she was, and, for a long three weeks, +our joy and our delight.</p> + +<p>Was ever little body so full of spirit and the +pride of life? The kitchen became her own +domain where the three of us fought for the +position of her most abject slave. Even Mary +Ellen could scarcely work for watching her antics +with an old stocking, which she pretended was a +rat. Once she caught a live mouse and set us +all shouting. Mary Ellen, in her excitement, upset +a gravy-boat of hot gravy, and The Seraph +slipped and sat down in it, and Giftie gambolling, +mouse in mouth, ran through it and tracked it +over the freshly scrubbed boards. If she had +been a tigress with her prey she could not have +been more ferocious with the mouse. She +snarled at it: she worried it: she threw it up in +the air and caught it: she laid it on the scullery +floor and rolled on it: and when, finally, it ceased +to squirm beneath her, she lay quite still, gazing +pensively up at us with liquid eyes, and only now +and then twitching her hind-quarters to remind +her victim that she was still on the job.</p> + +<p>One never-to-be-forgotten day she rollicked +into the kitchen proudly carrying Mrs. Handsomebody's +solemn black shoe, which had been +standing with its mate beneath Mrs. Handsomebody's +bed. Before our horrified eyes, she worried +it till the shoe-laces cracked about her head; +threw it up and caught it, as she had the mouse; +then taking it to her own bed in the scullery, she +laid it there and rolled on it.</p> + +<p>When Mary Ellen had wrested the shoe from +Giftie, she crept upstairs, her heart in her mouth, +and restored it to its place beneath the bed.</p> + +<p>"It was a marvel," she said afterwards, "how +the scallywag did what she did widout wakenin' +<i>her</i>, for there was the mistress sleepin' on the +broad of her back, and her two shoes, and her +bed-socks scattered over the flure, and the pot +of cold crame knocked off the chair at the head +of her bed, and the half of it et. It's mesilf +will dance for joy whin that little tormint gets +took away."</p> + +<p>Inquiries were made of all the errand boys, +but not one had heard of a lost dog. We came +to dread the sound of the door-bell lest it should +herald some determined grown-up come to snatch +our treasure from us. Mr. Watlin, the butcher's +young man, and Mary Ellen's favoured "follower" +of the moment, took a lively interest in +the affair. He was of the opinion that if Mrs. +Handsomebody once saw the dog nothing would +induce her to send it away. And he brought +offerings of raw meat in his pocket to make her +plump and glossy. Giftie grew plumper and +glossier every day.</p> + +<p>Then, when two weeks had passed, she +achieved the crowning triumph of her stay with +us. It was a heavy morning of dense November +fog, and the gas was still burning in the dining-room +when we came down to breakfast. Mary +Ellen did not bring us our porridge, as usual, +neither did Giftie run in to greet us; so, after a +moment's impatient wriggling in our chairs, we +went to the kitchen to investigate. Giftie was +nowhere in sight. Mary Ellen sat in an attitude +of complete abandon, by the dresser, her apron +over her head, her arms hanging loosely at her +sides. Was Giftie dead? Had her owner come +to fetch her? What horror had overcast the +sun? We deluged her with questions, pulling +the apron off her head, and dragging her from +the chair.</p> + +<p>"Och, it's a terror she is," Mary Ellen said, at +last. "Come wid me to the scullery an' ye'll see +what she's got in the bed wid her."</p> + +<p>There was not much light in the scullery so +we could not at first distinguish what lay on the +mat beside Giftie. It moved; it snuffled; no—<i>they</i> +moved; <i>they</i> snuffled. There were three of +them. All at once it burst upon us that they were +puppies—her puppies—our puppies—one apiece! +We flopped on the floor beside her. She darted +from her bed—licked our hands—snapped at our +ankles—ran back to them—and, finally tremulous +with excitement, allowed us to take them in our +arms (The Seraph wrapped his in the skirt of +his fresh holland smock) and sit blissfully in +a row.</p> + +<p>We stroked the soft licked fur of their glossy +coats; we examined their tiny sharp black nails; +their blindness only endeared them the more to +us.</p> + +<p>There we were found by Mr. Watlin.</p> + +<p>"'Ere's a picnic," he said. "'Ere's a bloomin' +picnic." He caught up the nearest puppy, and +turned it over in an experienced hand. "Tiles +must be cut," he added.</p> + +<p>"Tails cut! Oh, no," I expostulated, "Giftie's +tail isn't cut. Please don't."</p> + +<p>"All terriers should 'ave their tiles cut," said +Mr. Watlin, firmly. "If the mother dog's tile +isn't cut, is that any reason w'y 'er hoffspring +should be disfigured in a like manner? Now's +the time."</p> + +<p>"But it'll hurt," pleaded The Seraph. Do +you do it wif a knife?"</p> + +<p>"I <i>bites</i> 'em orf," replied Mr. Watlin, laconically, +"an' it don't 'urt a bit."</p> + +<p>"In this world," he went on, "a lot depends on +the way you does a thing. F'rinstance, when I +kill a lamb or a steer, do I kill 'im brutally? Not +at all. I runs 'im up an' down the slaughter yard +to get 'is circulation up—I strokes 'im on the neck, +an' tells 'im wot a fine feller 'e is, till 'e's in such +good spirits that 'e tikes the killin' as a joke. +Just a part of the gime, as it were. Sime with +these 'ere pups. They'd like 'aving their tiles bit +orf by me."</p> + +<p>We looked at the puppies doubtfully. It was +hard to believe that they would really like it, and +we were relieved when Mary Ellen broke in—</p> + +<p>"They will not be cut, nor bit, nor interfered +wid in anny way. If Giftie's owner likes a long +tail on her, he'd want a long tail on her puppies +wouldn't he? That stands to reason, Mr. +Watlin, don't it? and the owner may walk in here +anny day."</p> + +<p>How we hated that nebulous owner! And now +another cloud loomed on our horizon. Mrs. +Handsomebody was getting better. She had sat +up on a chair by the bedside; she had, with Mary +Ellen's help, walked across the room; she had, all +alone, walked down the hallway; she had come to +the head of the stairs. She was like the man in +the ghost story, who, fresh from his grave, called +to his wife—snugly sleeping above—"Mary, I'm +at the foot of the stairs.... Mary, I'm half way +up." We, too, shuddered in anticipation. And +Mary Ellen was almost as nervous as we, for hers +was the responsibility.</p> + +<p>The puppies were more entrancing every day. +Tiny slips of dewy blue showed between their +furry eyelids. They learned to walk, and roll +over, and to right themselves after being turned +over by their mother's playful paws. We were +squatting on the floor very busy with them, when +Mary Ellen entered, round-eyed with fear.</p> + +<p>"'Tis herself is in the dining-room," she +gasped.</p> + +<p>"Not Mrs. Handsomebody?"</p> + +<p>"Sorra a thing else. Put them pups in their +basket and come out and shut the dure. Ye'd +better go into the yard and be at some quate game. +Oh, Lord—" and she hurried back to her +mistress.</p> + +<p>This time we were safe, but there was tomorrow +ahead, with certain discovery.</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin, propped in the open doorway, +brought his ingenious mind to bear upon the +problem.</p> + +<p>"Now if Mrs. 'Andsomebody could be put under +an obligation to that little dog, she'd probably +tike it right into 'er 'eart and 'ome. If that little +dog, f'rinstance, should save Mrs. 'Andsomebody +from drowning—does she ever go in bathing?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Likely</i>, at <i>her</i> age, in <i>December</i>!" sneered +Mary Ellen. "Try again."</p> + +<p>"We might hold her under water in the bath-tub +till Giftie would fish her out," suggested +Angel.</p> + +<p>It was a colourful spectacle to visualize, and we +dallied with it a space before abandoning it as impracticable. It seemed too much to hope that +Mrs. Handsomebody, the bath-tub and Giftie +could all be assembled at the critical moment.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Watlin was not to be rebuffed. "Then +there's burglars," he went on. "Suppose Mrs. +'Andsomebody's valuables was to be rescued from +a burglar for 'er. She wouldn't be able to do +enough for a little dog that 'ad chased 'im out of +this very scullery, f'rinstance."</p> + +<p>We were thrilled by hope. "But where is the +burglar?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I could produce the burglar in a pinch. +He's reformed but he'd undertake a little job like +this if he know'd it was for partic'lar friends of +mine, and not a bit of 'arm in it. Is it a go?"</p> + +<p>Mystery brooded over the house of Handsomebody +all that afternoon and evening. We were +allowed to have no finger in this portentous pie.</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin, with some small assistance from +Mary Ellen, engineered the thing himself. We +were sent to bed at the usual hour, and played at +burglars on, and under, the bed, to while away +the intervening hours.</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>It must have been almost midnight when our +hearts were made to beat in our throats by such +an uproar in the scullery, as seemed to cleave the +darkness like a thunderbolt. Giftie appeared to +be choking in her effort to unloose, all at once, a +torrent of ferocious barks. A window shook, +glass broke, a shutter slammed. Then followed a +moment of awful silence before she settled down +to a methodical yapping. We heard Mary Ellen +run down the back stairs.</p> + +<p>We clambered out of bed, and tumbled into the +hall. Mrs. Handsomebody was there before us, +a gigantic shadow of her thrown on the walls by +a candle she held unsteadily in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Merciful Heaven!" she was saying under her +breath. "What can have happened!" She motioned +us to fall in behind her, and it was plain +that, crippled as she was, she intended to interpose +her body, in its flannel nightgown, between +us and whatever danger lurked below. She made +the descent clinging to the bannister, the three +of us jostling each other in the rear, and, once, +nearly precipitated on her back by a caper of +Angel's on the edge of a step.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen met us in the dining-room, her face +pale with excitement.</p> + +<p>"It was a burglar in the scullery, ma'am," she +burst out, never looking at us. "It's a mercy we +wasn't all murthered in our beds this night—the +windy's broke, an' the shutter's pried loose, and +a bag full av all the things off the sideboard is +settin' on the flure. Sure, I heard the steps av +him runnin' full lick down the lane—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody looked at her bereft sideboard, +and dropped into a chair with a gasp.</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>sure</i> he's gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm. I stuck me head out the windy and +seen him."</p> + +<p>"You're a brave girl. Get me the bitters. +Yes, and lock the door into the scullery—stay, +what dog was it that barked?"</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen hung her head. "The dawg the +little boys have been keepin' this bit while. It +does no harm at all."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody's face was a mask. She +said composedly: "Well, get the bitters and +then bring in the dog."</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen did as she was bid.</p> + +<p>Enter now Giftie, tail up, ears pricked, the +picture of conscious well-doing. She went +straight to Mrs. Handsomebody, sniffed her +ankles; wagged her tail in appreciation of the +odour of the liniment that emanated from the injured +lady; and finally sat up before her with an +ingratiating paddling of the forepaws.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody regarded her sombrely. +"May I ask how long you have harboured this +stray?"</p> + +<p>"Just since the day ye fell, ma'am, and I was +that upset that I was scarce in me right moind, +and indade, it's hersilf has saved us from robbery +and mebbe murther this night wid her barkin'."</p> + +<p>Giftie, tired of sitting up without reward or +encouragement, had trotted quietly out of the +room. She now came back waddling with importance, +a pup in her mouth. She laid it +at the feet of our governess as though to say—"There +now, what do you make of that?"</p> + +<p>"Horrors!" cried Mrs. Handsomebody, drawing +back, as though the puppy were a serpent.</p> + +<p>With a joyful kick of the heels, Giftie was off +again. In breathless silence we waited. The +second puppy, sleepy and squirming, was laid beside +its brother.</p> + +<p>"I presume you have another?" said Mrs. +Handsomebody in a controlled voice but gripping +the arms of her chair.</p> + +<p>Giftie brought the other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Handsomebody!" I implored, +"please, please, let us keep them! They're as +good as gold, and they'd guard the house and +everything—and maybe save you from drowning +some time. Don't take them from us, pl-ease!" +The Seraph, in sympathy, began to cry. Angel +picked up his pup and held it against his breast.</p> + +<p>"Silence!" rapped out Mrs. Handsomebody. +"Mary Ellen, fetch <i>The Times</i>. And just look +in the scullery to see that all is quiet there. +Fetch the bag left by the robber."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody sipped her bitters while +Mary Ellen did her behests. Each of us cuddled his own puppy, and Giftie began an energetic +search for a flea.</p> + +<p>Had our hearts not been in the grip of apprehension +we should have laughed at the figure +cut by Mary Ellen, panting under the sack of +plate. Mr. Watlin's burglar had done his job +well, and Mrs. Handsomebody groaned when she +saw her most cherished possessions tumbled in +such a reckless fashion. But not a thing was +missing, and when they had been replaced on the +sideboard, she turned briskly to <i>The Times</i>. She +ran a long white finger down the Lost column.</p> + +<p>"Ah, here we are—" she announced, complacently—"Pay +attention, boys," and she read:</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<i>Reward</i> for information leading to the recovery of +Scottish terrier, female, wearing silver collar engraved, +Giftie, stolen or strayed from 5 Argyle Road, on November +third. Anyone detaining after this notice will be +prosecuted."</p></blockquote> + +<p>"You see," exclaimed Mrs. Handsomebody, +triumphantly, "you have made yourselves liable +to a heavy fine, or even imprisonment, by detaining +what is, I presume, a very valuable beast. +Argyle Road—a very good locality—is not too +great a distance for you to walk. In the morning, +we shall return that dog and her—er—young, +and I see nothing amiss in your accepting +a suitable reward. Not a word now! No insubordination, +mind. I won't have it. David, +John, Alexander, listen—I am in no mood to +be trifled with. Put down those squirming +creatures and march to your bed!"</p> + +<p>Giftie's hour had struck. It was no use rebelling. +With bitter composure, we carried our +beloved to the scullery, and laid them on the mat +beside their mother. It was not until we were +safe in bed that our pent up fury broke loose; +and we pounded the pillows, and cursed the name +of womankind.</p> + +<p>Women! Tyrants! Mischievous busybodies!</p> + +<p>"When I'm a man," said Angel, suddenly, "I'll +marry a woman, and I'll beat her every day."</p> + +<p>"Me too!" cried The Seraph, stoutly, "I'll +mawy two—fat ones—an' beat 'em bofe."</p> + +<p>For myself, I was inclined for an unhampered +bachelorhood, but it soothed my wounded spirit +to picture these three hapless females in the grip +of Angel and The Seraph, and the music of their +outcries lulled me fast asleep.</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>We found next morning that Mrs. Handsomebody +and Mary Ellen had never gone back to +bed all night, but had kept watch in the dining-room +till daylight, when Mary Ellen had been +dispatched to find a policeman. He was in the +kitchen now, a commanding figure, making notes +in a little book; and seeming to derive great benefit +from his conversation with Mary Ellen.</p> + +<p>A new arrival was a wheeled-chair to convey +Mrs. Handsomebody to 5 Argyle Road. Therefore, +about ten o'clock, after the most exhausting +preparations, we set out, a singular party; Mrs. +Handsomebody enthroned in the chair, mistress +of herself (and every one else) her black-gloved +hands crossed on her lap; Mary Ellen, hot, straining +over the wheeled-chair, lest her mistress get an +unseemly bump at the crossing; Angel and I, bearing +between us a covered hamper containing the +three pups; while Giftie and The Seraph in the +abandon of youth and ignorance, sported on the +outskirts of the group.</p> + +<p>The way was long, and our arms ached with +the weight of the hamper, when we stopped before +the gate of Number 5 Argyle Road. It +was an imposing house in its own grounds; large +clipped trees stood about; and a bent old gardener +was doing something to one of those, while a tall +grey-haired woman in mannish tweeds superintended +the work. A Scottish terrier, fit mate +for Giftie, was digging furiously at the root of +the tree. He discovered our presence first, and, +before we had time to introduce ourselves, he +and Giftie, with bristling backs, were jumping +about one another in a sort of friendly hostility, +and filling the air with barks of greeting. Giftie, +then, darted for the hamper, sniffed it, ran back +to the other Scotty, and bit him so that he yelped. +All was confusion.</p> + +<p>The tall lady came toward us smiling broadly. +She exclaimed above the din: "How can I thank +you? I see you have brought home our little +wanderer—Giftie, how can you treat Colin so? +Poor Colin—lift him up, Giles, she's going to +bite him again—I suppose there are pups in the +hamper. Let's see, boys."</p> + +<p>We uncovered the hamper proudly. The +three puppies lay curled like little sea anemones. +Giftie tried to get in the hamper with them, but +her mistress restrained her gently, while she +lifted them out, one by one, and examined each, +critically, Mrs. Handsomebody watching her all +the while with an expression of disapproval, that +bordered on disgust.</p> + +<p>The tall lady, quite oblivious to all this, seated +herself on the ground with the puppies on her +lap, muttering ecstatically-"Perfect beauties—what +luck! Giftie, you're a wonder!" Whereupon +Giftie tried to kiss her on the ear. The +bent old gardener, brought Colin to us and made +him shake hands, and we thought him very long-faced +and dour after roguish Giftie.</p> + +<p>Presently Mrs. Handsomebody spoke in her +most decisive tones:</p> + +<p>"I fear I shall take a chill if I remain in this +damp place. Come boys. Mary Ellen, kindly +reverse the chair!"</p> + +<p>The tall lady rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, come in and have something hot, +and tell me all about it. And there's the reward."</p> + +<p>"I thank you," replied Mrs. Handsomebody, +"I shall not venture to leave my chair. As for +the dog, it came to us several weeks ago, when +I was ill; hence the delay in returning it—and +its young."</p> + +<p>"Your grandchildren?" questioned the tall +lady abruptly.</p> + +<p>"My pupils, and, for the present, my wards," +replied Mrs. Handsomebody frigidly.</p> + +<p>"Wish I could steal them," said the lady. "If +I'd dogs and boys too, I'd be happy. These are +darlings." She turned to us then. "Boys, do +you like Giftie very much?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we love her," we chorused.</p> + +<p>"Would you like one of her puppies for your +very own to keep?"</p> + +<p>Would we? We couldn't speak for longing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody spoke for us.</p> + +<p>"I allow no pets, canine or otherwise."</p> + +<p>The tall lady scowled. "But these are valuable dogs."</p> + +<p>"All dogs are alike to me. Canines."</p> + +<p>The tall lady gave something between a snort +and a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Would you allow them to accept a sovereign +apiece then?"</p> + +<p>"That would be permissible."</p> + +<p>"I shall be back directly," and with astonishing +speed she ran to the house with Colin and +Giftie barking on either side of her. It was but +a moment till she returned and pressed a golden +sovereign into each languid hand. The sight of +so much bullion all at once braced us for the +moment, and we forgot to be miserable. She +came with us to the gate, asking a dozen questions +about ourselves, and our father, and Giftie's +stay with us. Giftie had to be restrained from +following us, and with sinking hearts we kissed +her little black nose and said good-bye.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye!" called the tall lady, "come again +any time! Come and spend the day with us!"</p> + +<p>Our governess called us peremptorily. She +was half a block in advance.</p> + +<p>When we reached the chair, she said, in a conciliatory tone: +"I shall arrange for you to have +some unusual treat from your reward, some concerts +and lantern lectures suited to your years, +and maybe, as the Christmas Season approaches, +even a pantomime. What do you say?"</p> + +<p>I looked at the woman. Was she mad to +imagine that such paltry, sickly treats could make +up for the loss of three pups whose eyes were +beginning to open? My own eyes smarted with +tears. I looked at Mary Ellen. Two bright +drops hung on her cheeks as she laboured behind +the chair. I looked at Angel. He was balancing +himself on the curb with an air of desperate +indifference. I could hear The Seraph weeping +as he brought up the rear.</p> + +<p>I lingered behind to offer him a suck of a piece +of licorice I had. Then I saw that he had +stopped and was hunched above the grating of a +sewer. I could but think that his spirits had +reached such an ebb that nothing save the contemplation +of the foulest depths might salve his +misery. But I was mistaken! His hand moved +above the grating. Something flashed. Then I +swelled my chest with pride in him. Truly, The +Seraph was a brother to be proud of—a fellow +of sturdy passions, not to be trifled with!</p> + +<p>He had chucked his sovereign down the sewer!</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch5">Chapter V: Freedom</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Life became dull indeed after Giftie was taken +from us. November drew on to December; +beating rains kept us indoors for days at a time. +Mrs. Handsomebody had a horror of wet feet. +With faces pressed against streaming window +panes, we watched for the blurred progress of +the lamplighter down the street, as the one excitement +of the day. Even our friend the Bishop +deserted us and went for a long stay in the south +of France. Angel developed a sore throat just +before Christmas so we had no part in the Christmas +music in the Cathedral. The toy pistols +sent by our father did not arrive till a fortnight +after Christmas, and when they did arrive, +the joy of possessing them was short-lived, +for after Angel had cracked a pane of +glass with his, and I had hit Mary Ellen on +the ear, so that it was swollen and red for days, +Mrs. Handsomebody confiscated them all as +dangerous weapons to be kept till we were beyond +her control.</p> + +<p>She gave us each a new prayer book illustrated +by pictures from the Gospel. I coloured the +pictures in mine with crayons, and got my hands +rulered for it; Angel traded his with one of the +choir boys for a catapult which he successfully +kept in concealment, with occasional forays on +back alley cats. The Seraph was immensely +pleased with his. He carried it about in his +blouse, producing it, now and again, for reference, +with pretended solemnity. His manner +became unbearably clerical. I think he felt himself, +at least, a Canon.</p> + +<p>The winter wore on, and we became pale and +peevish from lack of air, when all our little world +was quickened by the coming of the telegram.</p> + +<p>It had come while we were at lessons. Angel +and I were standing before our governess with +our hands behind our backs, when Mary Ellen +burst in at the door. I had been stumbling over +the names of the Channel Islands, and I stopped +with my mouth open, relieved to see Mrs. Handsomebody's +look of indignation raised from my +face to that of Mary Ellen.</p> + +<p>"Is that the way I have instructed you to +enter the room where I sit?" asked Mrs. Handsomebody +sternly.</p> + +<p>"Lord, no, ma'am," gasped Mary Ellen, "but +it's a telegram I've brung for ye, an' I thought +as it was likely bad news, ye wouldn't want to be +kept waitin' while I'd rap at the dure!" She +presented the bit of paper between a wet thumb +and forefinger.</p> + +<p>"You may take your seats," said Mrs. Handsomebody +coldly, to us.</p> + +<p>Angel and I slipped into our places at the +long book-littered table, on either side of The +Seraph. We were thus placed, in order that +his small plump person should prove an obstacle +to familiar intercourse between Angel and myself +during school hours; and, as our intercourse +usually took the form of punches in the short +ribs, or wet paper pellets aimed at an unoffending +nose, The Seraph was frequently the recipient +of such pleasantries. He bore them with good +humour and stoicism.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet anything," whispered Angel, over The +Seraph's curls, "that it's a telegram from father +saying that he's coming to fetch us! Wouldn't +that be jolly? And she's waxy about it too—see +how white she's gone!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody rose.</p> + +<p>"Boys," she said, in her most frigid manner, +"owing to news of a sudden bereavement, I shall +not be able to continue your lessons today—nor +tomorrow. You will, I hope, make the most +of the time intervening. You were in a shocking +state of unpreparedness both in History and +Geography this morning. Keep your little +brother out of mischief, and <i>remember</i>," raising +her long forefinger, "you are not, under any consideration, +to leave the premises during my absence. +As I have a great responsibility on your +account, I wish to be certain that you are not endangering +yourselves in the street. When I return +we shall undertake some long walks."</p> + +<p>Picking up the telegram from the floor where +it had fallen, Mrs. Handsomebody slowly left +the room, and closed the door behind her.</p> + +<p>"She's always jawing about her responsibility," +muttered Angel resentfully. "Why don't she let +us run about like other boys 'stead of mewing us +up like a parcel of girls? I'll be shot if I stand it!"</p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> the Channel Islands anyhow?" I +asked to change the subject. "I'd just got to +Jersey, Guernsey, when I got stuck."</p> + +<p>"Jersey, Guernsey, Sweater, Sock and Darn," +replied my elder, emphasizing the last named.</p> + +<p>"<i>Was</i> the telegram from father?" interrupted +The Seraph. "Is he comin' home?"</p> + +<p>"No, silly," replied Angel. "Some one belonging +to Mrs. Handsomebody is dead. She's goin' +to the funeral, I s'pose. Whoever can it be, +John? Didn't know <i>she</i> had any people."</p> + +<p>"A whole day away," I mused, "it has never +happened before."</p> + +<p>I looked at Angel, and Angel looked at me—such +looks as might be exchanged by lion cubs in +captivity. We remembered our old home with +its stretch of green lawn, the dogs, the stable +with the sharp sweet smell of hay, and the +pigeons, sliding and "rooketty-cooing" on the +roof. Here, the windows of our schoolroom +looked out on a planked back yard, and our +daily walks with Mrs. Handsomebody were +dreary outings indeed.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden Angel threw his Geography into +the air. His brown eyes were sparkling.</p> + +<p>"We'll make a day of it, Lieutenant," he cried, +slapping me on the shoulder. He always called +me Lieutenant where mischief was a-foot. "Such +a day as <i>never</i> was! We'll do every blessed +thing we're s'posed not to! Most of all—we'll +<i>run the streets</i>!"</p> + +<p>At that instant, Mary Ellen opened the door +and put her rosy face in.</p> + +<p>"She do be packin' her bag, byes," she +whispered, "she's takin' the eliven o'clock train, +an' she won't be back till tomorrow at noon. +Now what d'ye think o' that? She's awful +quate, but she's niver spilt a tear fer him that I +could spot."</p> + +<p>"For who?"</p> + +<p>"Why, her brother to be sure. It's him that's +dead. It's a attack of brownkitis that's carried +him off so suddint. Her only brother an'—yes, +ma'a'm, I'm comin'," her broad face disappeared, +"I was on'y tellin' the young gintlemen to be +nice an' quate while I git their dinner ready. +Will they be havin' the cold mutten from yisterday +ma'a'm?" Her voice trailed down the +hall.</p> + +<p>Presently we heard the front door close. We +raced to the top of the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Is she gone?" we whispered, peering over +the bannister into the hall below. But, of course, +she was gone, else Mary Ellen would never dare +to stand thus in the open doorway, gaping up +and down the street! We slid recklessly down +the hand-rail. It was the first infringement of +rules—the wig was on the green! We crowded +about Mary Ellen in the doorway, sniffing the +air.</p> + +<p>"Och, it's a bad lot ye are!" said she, taking +The Seraph under the arms and swinging him out +over the steps, "shure it's small wonder the missus +is strict wid ye, else ye'd be ridin' rough-shod over +her as ye do over me! It's jist man-nature, mind +ye—ye can't help it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's not man-nature to be mewed up as +she does us," said Angel, swaggering, "and, I +don't know what you mean to do, Mary Ellen, +but <i>we</i> mean to take a day off, so there!" He +nodded his curly head defiantly at her.</p> + +<p>"Now, listen here, byes," said Mary Ellen, +turning sober all of a sudden, and shutting the +door, "you come right out to the kitchen wid me, +an' we'll talk this thing over. I've got a word +to say to ye."</p> + +<p>She led the way down the hall and through the +dining-room with its atmosphere of haircloth, into +the more friendly kitchen, where even the oppressions +of Mrs. Handsomebody could not quite subdue +the bounding spirits of Mary Ellen.</p> + +<p>Angel sallied to the cupboard. "Bother!" he +said, discontentedly, investigating the cake-box, +"that same old seedy-cake! Won't you <i>please</i> +make us a treat today, Mary Ellen? Jam tarts +or some sticky sort of cake like you see in the pastry +shop window."</p> + +<p>"That's the very thing I was goin' to speak +about, my dear," Mary Ellen replied, "if ye'll jist +howld yer horses." Before proceeding, she cut +us each, herself included, a slice of the seed cake, +and, when we were all munching (save Angel, who +was busy picking the seeds out of his cake) she +went on—</p> + +<p>"Now, as well ye know, I've worked here +manny a long month, and I've had followers +a-plinty, yit there's noan o' thim I like the same +as Mr. Watlin, the butcher's young man, an' it +makes me blush wid shame, whin I think that +after all the pippermints, an' gum drops, an' jawbone +breakers he's give me, not to speak of +minsthral shows an' rides on the tram-cars, an' +I've niver given him so much as a cup o' tay in this +kitchen. Not <i>wan</i> cup o' tay, mind ye!"</p> + +<p>We shook our heads commiseratingly. Angel +flicked his last caraway seed at her—</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, with a wink, "you gave him +something better than tea—I saw you!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, well, my dear," replied Mary Ellen, without +smiling, "a man that do be boardin' all the +time likes a little attintion sometimes—an' a taste +o' home cookin'. Now hark to my plan. I mane +to have a little feast of oyster stew, an' cake, an' +coffee, an' the like this very night, fer Mr. Watlin +an' me, an' yersilves. You kin have yours in the +dining-room like little gintlemen, an' him an' me'll +ate in the kitchen here. Thin, after the supper, +ye kin come out an' hear Mr. Watlin play on the +fiddle. He plays somethin' grand, havin' larned +off the best masters. It'll be a rale treat fer ye! +The missus 'll niver be the wiser, an' we'll all git +a taste o' <i>freedom</i>, d'ye see?"</p> + +<p>We were unanimous in our approval, The Seraph +expressing his by a somersault.</p> + +<p>"But," said Angel, "there's just one thing, +Mary Ellen; if there's going to be a party you +and Mr. Watlin have got to have yours in the +dining-room the same as us. It'll be ever so much +jollier, and more like a real party."</p> + +<p>"Thrue fer ye, Master Angel!" cried Mary +Ellen heartily, "sure, there's noan o' the stiff-neck +about ye, an' ye'll git yer fill av oysters an' cake +fer that, mark my words! As fer my Mr. +Watlin, there ain't a claner, smarter feller to be +found annywheres. But, oh, if the mistress was +to find it out—" she turned pale with apprehension.</p> + +<p>"How could she?" we assured her. Every curtain +would be drawn, and, besides, Mrs. Handsomebody +was not intimate with her neighbours.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen gave us our cold mutton and rice +pudding that day in free and easy fashion. She +did not place the dishes and cutlery with that +mathematical precision demanded of her by Mrs. +Handsomebody, but scattered them over the cloth +in a promiscuous way that we found very exhilarating. +And, instead of Mrs. Handsomebody's +austere figure dominating our repast, there was +Mary Ellen, resting her red knuckles on the table-cloth, +and fairly bubbling over with plans for the +prospective entertainment of her lover! Our +hearts went out to the good girl and her Mr. Watlin. +We began to think of him as a dear friend.</p> + +<p>"Now, my dears," said she, when the meal was +over, "take yourselves off while I clane up and do +my shoppin', but fer pity's sake, don't lave the +front garden, fer if annything was to happen to +ye—"</p> + +<p>Angel cut her short with—"None of that Mary +Ellen! This is <i>our</i> day too, and we shall do +what we jolly well please!" He completed his +protest by throwing himself bodily on the stout +domestic, and The Seraph and I, though we had +eaten to repletion, followed his example. Mary +Ellen, howbeit, was a match for the three of us, +and bundled us out of the side entrance into the +laneway, triumphantly locking the door upon us.</p> + +<p>Without a look behind, we scampered to the +street, and then stood still, staring at each other, +dazzled by the vista that opened up before us—what +to do with these glorious hours of freedom!</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>It was one of those late February days, when +Nature, after months of frozen disregard for +man, of a sudden smiles, and you see that her face +has grown quite young, and that she is filled with +gracious intent towards you. The bare limbs of +the chestnut trees before the house looked shiny +against the dim blue of the sky; they seemed to +strain upward toward the light and warmth. A +score of sparrows were busy on the roadway.</p> + +<p>After all, it was The Seraph who made the first +dash, who took the bit in his milk-teeth, as it were; +and, without a by-your-leave, strutted across the +strip of sod to the road, and so set forth. He +carried his head very high, and he would now and +then shake it in that manner peculiar to the equine +race. Angel and I followed closely with occasional caracoles, and cavortings, and scornful +blowings through the nostrils. All three shied at +a lamp-post. It needed no second glance to perceive +that we were mettlesome steeds out for exercise, +and feeling our oats.</p> + +<p>A very old gentleman with an umbrella and top +hat saw us. He rushed to the curb waving his +umbrella and crying, "Whoa, whoa," but we only +arched our proud necks and broke into a gallop. +How the pavement echoed under our flying hoofs! +How warmly the sun glistened on our sleek coats! +How pleasant the jingling sound of the harness +and the smell of the harness oil!</p> + +<p>We left the decorous street we knew so +well, and turned into narrow and untidy Henwood +street. Shabby houses and shops were jumbled +promiscuously together, and the pavement was +full of holes. From the far end of it came the +joyous tones of a hand-organ, vibrating on the +early afternoon air. The eaves on the sunny +side of the street were dripping. A fishmonger's +shop sent forth its robust odour. The scarlet of +a lobster caught our eyes as we flew past.</p> + +<p>Could it be possible that the player of the organ +was our old friend Tony, to whose monkey +we had often handed our coppers through the +palings?</p> + +<p>We were horses no longer. Who had time for +such pretence when Tony was grinding out "White +Wings" with all his might? Angel and I took to +the side-walk and ran with all speed, leaving the +poor little Seraph pumping away in the rear, not +quite certain whether he was horse or boy, but +determined not to be outdistanced.</p> + +<p>It was indeed Tony, and his white teeth +gleamed when he saw us coming, and his eyebrows +went up to his hat brim at sight of us bareheaded +and alone, who always handed our coppers +through the palings. And Anita, the monkey, +was there, looking rather pale and sickly after the +long Winter, but full of pluck, grinning, as she +doffed her gold-braided hat.</p> + +<p>Angel and The Seraph rarely had any money. +The little allowance father gave us through Mrs. +Handsomebody, burnt a hole in their pockets till +it was expended on toffee or marshmallows. But +I was made of different stuff, and by the end of +the week, I was the financial strength of the trio. +It was I, who now fished out a penny which Angel +snatched from me. He craved the joy of the +giver, and chuckled when Anita's small pink palm +closed over the coin. But I was too happy to +quarrel with him. Every one seemed in good-humour +that day. Windows were pushed up and +small change tossed out, or dropped in Anita's +cup as she perched, chattering, on the sill. A +stout grocer in his white apron gave her a little +pink biscuit to nibble. Half-grown girls lolled +on the handles of perambulators to listen, while +their charges pulled faces of fear at the supple +Anita.</p> + +<p>We three sat on the curb close to the organ, +our small heads reeling with the melodies that +thundered from it. When Tony moved on, we +rose and followed him. At the next corner he +rested his organ on its one leg and looked down +at us.</p> + +<p>"You betta go home," he admonished, "your +mamma not like."</p> + +<p>"We're going to run the streets today," I said, +manfully, "Mrs. Handsomebody is away at a +funeral."</p> + +<p>"A funer-al," repeated Tony, "she know—about +dis?"</p> + +<p>"No—" I replied, "but Mary Ellen does."</p> + +<p>"She a beeg lady—dis Marie Ellen?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. She's awfully big. Bigger than +you, and strong—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right," said Tony, "but don' you get +los'." We helped him to carry the organ. It +was a new one he said, and very expensive to +hire. We asked him endless questions we had +always been wanting to ask—about Italy, and +his parents, and sisters, and we told him about +father in South America, and about the party +that night for Mr. Watlin.</p> + +<p>From street to street we wandered till we were +gloriously and irrevocably lost. Angel and I +helped to grind the organ and The Seraph even +presented himself at doors with Anita's little tin +cup in his hand. And either because he was so +little or his eyelashes were so long, he never +came back empty-handed. Tony seemed well +content with our company.</p> + +<p>So the afternoon sped on. Narrow alleys we +played in, and wide streets, and once we passed +through a crowded thoroughfare where we had +to hug close to the organ, and once we met Tony's +brother Salvator, who gave us each a long red +banana.</p> + +<p>At last Tony, looking down at us with a smile, +said:</p> + +<p>"Jus' one more tune here, then I tak' you +home. See? De sun's gettin' low and dat little +one's gettin' tired. I tak' you home in a minute."</p> + +<p>We, remembering the party, were nothing +loath. Poor Mary Ellen would be in a state by +now, and our legs had almost given out.</p> + +<p>This street was a quiet one. At the corner +some untidy little girls danced on the pavement, +while a group of boys stood by, loafing against +the window of a small liquor shop, and occasionally +scattering the girls by some threat of +hair-pulling or kissing.</p> + +<p>The western sky was saffron. The eaves, +that had been dripping all day, now wore silent +rows of icicles. Possibly the little girls danced +to keep warm. The Seraph began to whimper.</p> + +<p>"This air stwikes cold on my legs," he murmured.</p> + +<p>I sat down beside him on the curb, and we +snuggled together for warmth.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, old sport," I whispered cheerily. +"Just think of the goodies Mary Ellen's +making for us! Pretty soon we'll be home."</p> + +<p>While I strove to revive The Seraph's flagging +spirits, Angel had strolled along the street +to watch the little girls. He had an eye for the +gentle sex even when their fairness was disguised +by dirty pinafores and stiff pigtails. I did not +see what happened, but above the noise of the +organ I heard first, shouts of derision and anger, +and then my brother's voice crying out in pain.</p> + +<p>I pushed aside the clinging Seraph and ran to +where I saw the two groups melted into one about +a pair of combatants. The little girls parted +to let me through. I saw then that the contending +parties were Angel and a boy whose +tousled head was fully six inches above my +brother's. He had gripped Angel by the back +of the neck with one hand, while with the other +he struck blows that sounded horrible to me. +Angel was hitting out wildly. When the boy +saw me, he hooked his leg behind Angel's and +threw him on his back with deadly ease, at the +same time administering a kick in the stomach. +He turned then to me with a leer.</p> + +<p>"Well, pretty," he simpered, "does yer want +some too? I s'y fellers, 'ere's another Hangel +comin' fer 'is dose. Put up yer little 'ooks then; +an' I'll give yer two black 'osses an' a red driver! +Aw, come on, sissy!"</p> + +<p>I tried to remember what father had said +about fighting. "Don't clutch and don't paw. +Strike out from the shoulder like a gentleman." +So, while the boy was talking, I struck out from +the shoulder right on the end of his nose with +my shut fist.</p> + +<p>Whatever things I may achieve, never, ah, +never shall I experience a thrill of triumph equal +to that which made my blood dance when I saw +a trickle—a goodly, rich red trickle!—of blood +spurt from the bully's nose.</p> + +<p>"Ow! Ow! Wesley! Oo's got a red +driver on 'is own?" shouted his comrades. +"Plug aw'y little 'un!"</p> + +<p>He snarled horribly, showing his big front +teeth. I could feel his breath hot on my face as +he clutched me round the neck. I could see some +boys holding Angel back, I could hear The +Seraph's wail of "John! John!" Then, simultaneously +there came a blow on my own nose, and +a grasping of my collar, and a shaking that freed +us of each other, for I was clutching him with +fury equal to his own.</p> + +<p>A minute passed before I could regain possession +of myself. The street reeled, the organ +seemed to be grinding in my own head, and yet +I found that it was not playing at all, for there +was Tony with it on his back, looking anxiously +into my face, and firing a volley of invective after +the big boy, who was retreating with his mates.</p> + +<p>I looked up at the owner of the hand which +still held my collar. He was a very thin young +man with a pale face and quiet grey eyes.</p> + +<p>Tony began to offer incoherent explanations.</p> + +<p>"But who are they?" demanded the young +man, "they don't seem to belong to this street."</p> + +<p>"No, no, no," reiterated Tony, "dey are little +fr-riends of mine—dey come for a walk with +me. Oh, I shall get into some trouble for dis, +I tink! It was all dose damn boys dat bully +heem, an' when I would run to help, dere was +my Anita lef' on da organ, an' I mus' not lose +her!"</p> + +<p>"It's all right," I explained to the young man, +"we were just spending the afternoon with Tony, +and it wasn't his fault we got to fighting, and—and +did I do very badly please? Did you notice +whether I pawed or not?"</p> + +<p>"By George!" said the young man, "you made +the claret flow!"</p> + +<p>"It took two of them to hold me or I'd have +got back at him," said Angel.</p> + +<p>"It took fwee o' them to hold <i>me</i>," piped +The Seraph, "or I'd have punched evwybody!"</p> + +<p>"How did it start?" enquired the young man.</p> + +<p>"That biggest one asked me my name," replied +Angel, "and before I thought I'd said, +'Angel,' and that started them. Of course my +real name is David, but I forgot for the moment."</p> + +<p>"Pet names <i>are</i> a nuisance sometimes," said +the young man, smiling, "I had one once. It +was John Peel. But no one calls me that now."</p> + +<p>"I will tak' dem home now," interrupted Tony. +"Come," taking The Seraph's hand, "dere will +be no more running da street for you little boys!"</p> + +<p>"I'll walk along, too," said the young man, +"I've nothing else to do."</p> + +<p>I strode along at his side greatly elated. I +was as hot as fire, and some of the gamin's +blood was still on my hand. I cherished it +secretly.</p> + +<p>Although the young man had quiet, even sad, +eyes, it turned out that he was wonderfully interesting. +He had travelled considerably, and +had even visited South America, yet he could not +have been an engineer like father, building railroads, +for he looked very poor.</p> + +<p>I was sorry when we reached Mrs. Handsomebody's +front door.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," he said, holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>But a happy thought struck me. I told him +about Mary Ellen's party. "And," I hurried +on, "there'll be oysters and coffee and all sorts +of good things to eat, and we'd like most awfully +to have you join us if you will. Mary Ellen +would be proud to entertain a friend of ours. +Wouldn't she Angel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and Tony can come too!" cried Angel. +"We'll have a <i>regular</i> party!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I will come to da party," said Tony, +quickly, "I am vera hungry. You will egsplain +to Mees Marie Ellen, yes?"</p> + +<p>"John can 'splain <i>anything</i>," put in The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please come!" I pleaded, dragging the +young man down the side passage. He suffered +himself to be led as far as the back entrance, +but, once there, he halted.</p> + +<p>"Tony and I shall wait here," he said, "and +you'll go in and send your Mary Ellen out to +inspect us. We shall see what she thinks of +such a surprise party before we venture in, eh, +Tony?" He gave a queer little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said Tony, "I will leave da organ +out sida, but Anita mus' come in. She is vera +good monk in a party."</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>We three entered breathlessly. Who can describe +the babble of our explanations and appeals +to Mary Ellen's hospitality, and her reproaches +for the fright we had given her? Howbeit, +when the first clamour subsided, we perceived +that Mary Ellen's Mr. Watlin was ensconced +behind the stove, looking tremendously dressed +up and embarrassed. He now came forward +and shook each of us by the hand, quite enveloping +our little paws in a great expanse of warm thick +flesh, smelling of scented soap.</p> + +<p>The greetings over, Mary Ellen and he conferred +for a moment in the corner, then Mr. +Watlin creaked across the kitchen on tiptoe (I +fancy he could not yet bring himself to believe +in Mrs. Handsomebody's entire absence from +the house) and disappeared through the outer +door into the yard where the young man and +Tony and Anita waited.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mary Ellen, sternly, "ye've just +got to abide by Mr. Watlin's decision. If he +says they're passable, why, in they come, an' if +he gives 'em their walkin' ticket, well an' good, +an' not a squeak out o' ye. I've had about +enough o' yer actions for wan day!"</p> + +<p>"But he's a gentleman, Mary Ellen!" I insisted.</p> + +<p>"Ay, an' the monkey's a lady, no doubt! I +know the kind!" I had never seen Mary Ellen +so sour.</p> + +<p>But our fears for our friends were set at rest, +for at that instant, the door opened and Mr. +Watlin entered, followed by the young man and +Tony, with Anita perching on his shoulder. +Mary Ellen could not refrain from a broad +smile at the spectacle. The kitchen was filled +with delightful odours. The spirits of everyone +seemed to rise at a bound.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening to ye, Tony," said Mary Ellen, +and then she turned to our new friend.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how you call yourself, sir," she +said, bluntly.</p> + +<p>"You may call me Harry, if you will," he replied, +after a slight hesitation.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen, with a keen look at him, said, +"Won't you sit down, sir? The victuals will be +on the table in the dining-room directly. Mr. +Watlin, would ye mind givin' me a hand with +them dish-covers?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin assisted Mary Ellen deftly, and +with an air of proprietorship. He was a stout +young man with a blond pompadour, and a +smooth-shaven ruddy face. As soon as an opportunity +offered, I asked him whether he had +brought his fiddle. He smiled enigmatically.</p> + +<p>"You shall see wot you shall see, and 'ear wot +you shall 'ear," he replied.</p> + +<p>In time the great tureen (Mrs. Handsomebody's +silver plated one) was on the table and +the guests were bidden to "sit in." Mary Ellen, +full of dignity, seated herself in Mrs. Handsomebody's +place behind the coffee urn, while Mr. +Watlin drew forward the heavy armchair, which +since the demise of Mr. Handsomebody, had +been occupied by no one save the Unitarian minister +when he took tea with us. Angel and The +Seraph and I were ranged on one side of the table, +and Tony and Harry on the other. Anita sat +on the chair behind Tony, and every now and +again she would push her head under his arm +and peer shyly over the table, or reach with a +thin little claw toward a morsel of food he was +raising to his mouth.</p> + +<p>It would be impossible to conceive of seven +people with finer appetites, or of a hostess more +determined that her guests should do themselves +injury from over-eating. Although two of our +company were unexpected, there was more than +enough for every one. The oysters were followed +by a Bedfordshire pudding, potatoes, cold +ham, celery, several sorts of pastry, oranges and +coffee. It was when we reached the lighter portion +of the feast that tongues were unloosed, +and conviviality bloomed like an exotic flower in +Mrs. Handsomebody's dining-room.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen placed a plateful of scraps on the +floor before Anita.</p> + +<p>She said, "That ought to stand to her, pore +thing! She do be awful ganted."</p> + +<p>"These 'ere fancies is wot tikes me," said Mr. +Watlin, helping himself to his third lemon turnover. +"Sub-stantial food is all right. I +shouldn't care to do without meat and the like, +but it's the fancies that seems to tickle all the +w'y down. Sub-stantial foods is like hugs, but +fancies might come under the 'ead of kisses—you +don't know when you get enough on 'em, +hey Tony? You lika da kiss?"</p> + +<p>Tony turned up his palms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, dey are not for a poor fella lak +me!"</p> + +<p>"Watlin," said Harry, "did you say you were +a Kent man?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, from Kent, the garden of England."</p> + +<p>"Are you related to Carrot Bill Watlin, then?"</p> + +<p>"Carrot Bill!" shouted Mr. Watlin, "Carrot +Bill! Am I related to 'im? W'y 'e's my uncle, +'e is! And do you know 'im then?"</p> + +<p>"I've seen him hundreds of times," said Harry.</p> + +<p>"There never was such a feller as Carrot Bill," +said Mr. Watlin, turning to us, "there ain't nobody +in Kent can bunch carrots like 'im. W'y, +truck-men from all over the county brings their +carrots to Bill to be bunched, afore they tikes +'em to Covent Garden Market! 'E trims 'em +down just so, an' fits 'em together till you'd think +they'd growed in bunches. An' they look that +'andsome that they bring a penny more a bunch. +An' to fancy you know 'im—well I never! Wot +nime was it you said?"</p> + +<p>"Harry."</p> + +<p>"Ow, I meant your surnime."</p> + +<p>"Smith," said Harry, shortly.</p> + +<p>"Smith," meditated Mr. Watlin, "I know +several Smiths in Kent. You're likely one on +'em. Well, I must shake 'ands with you for the +sake of Carrot Bill." He reached across the +table and grasped Harry's hand in a hearty +shake. Thereupon we drank a health to Carrot +Bill in bottled beer; and this was followed by a +toast to Mrs. Handsomebody, which somehow +subdued us a little.</p> + +<p>"'Er brother is dead you s'y," reflected Mr. +Watlin, "and 'ow hold a man might 'e be?"</p> + +<p>"Blessed if I know," replied Mary Ellen, "but +he was years an' years younger than her. She +brought him up, and from what I can find out, +he turned out pretty bad."</p> + +<p>"Tck, tck." Mr. Watlin was moved. "It +was very sad for the lidy, but 'e's dead now, +poor chap! We must speak no ill of the dead."</p> + +<p>"It's a vewy bad fing to be dead," interposed +The Seraph, sententiously, "you can't eat, you +can't dwink, an' you just fly 'wound an' 'wound, +lookin' for somefing to light on!"</p> + +<p>"Right-o, young gentleman!" said Mr. Watlin, +"and put as couldn't be better. And the +moral is, mike the most of our time wot's left!"</p> + +<p>"Well, fer my part," sighed Mary Ellen, "I've +et so hearty, I feel like as though I'd a horse settin' +on my stomick! Sure I don't know how to +move."</p> + +<p>"A little pinch of bi-carbonate of soder will +hease that, my dear," said her lover.</p> + +<p>"Please, <i>did</i> you bring your fiddle, Mr. Watlin?" +pleaded Angel, "won't you play now?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, I lof da fiddle!" said Tony, caressing +Anita's little head.</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin, thus importuned, disappeared for +a space into the back hall, whence he finally +emerged in his shirt sleeves, carrying the violin +under his arm. We drew our chairs together +at one end of the room, and watched him as he +tuned the instrument, frowning sternly the while.</p> + +<p>"Lydies and gentleman," said he, "I 'ope +you'll pardon me appearing before you in my +waistcoat. I must not be 'ampered you see, wen +I manipulate the bow. I must 'ave freedom. +It's a grand thing freedom! Ah!"</p> + +<p>"He's gone as far as he can go on the fiddle," +explained Mary Ellen to the company. "Someday +he'll give up the butchering business and take +to music thorough."</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin now, with the violin tucked under +his chin, began to play in a very spirited manner. +Our pulses beat time to lively polka and schottische +while Mr. Watlin tapped on the carpet +with his large foot as he played. Mary Ellen +was wild for a dance, she said.</p> + +<p>"Get up and 'ave a gow, then," encouraged +Mr. Watlin, "you and 'Arry there!" But she, +for some reason, would not, and Harry was not +urgent.</p> + +<p>"I can play da fiddle a little," said Tony, as +our artist paused for a rest.</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin clapped him good-humouredly on +the shoulder. "Go to it then, my boy, give us +your little tune! I'm out of form tonight, anyw'y." +He pushed the violin patronizingly into +Tony's brown hands.</p> + +<p>The Italian took it, oh, so lovingly, and, with +an apologetic glance at Mr. Watlin, he tuned +the strings to a different pitch. Anita climbed +to the back of his neck.</p> + +<p>Then came music, flooding, trickling, laughing, +from the bow of Tony! Italy you could see; +and little, half-naked children, playing in the +sleepy street! You could hear the tinkle of +donkey bells, and the cooing of pigeons; you could +see Tony's home as he was seeing it, and hear his +sisters singing. It was Spring in Tuscany.</p> + +<p>The theme grew sad. It sang of loneliness. +A lost child was wandering through the forest, +who could not find his mother. It was very +dark beneath the fir trees, and the wind made +the boy shiver. His cry of—Mother! +Mother! echoed in my heart and would not be +hushed. I hid my face in the hollow of my arm +and sobbed bitterly.</p> + +<p>The music ceased. Harry had me in his arms.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong, old fellow, was it something +in Tony's music that hurt?"</p> + +<p>I nodded, clinging to him.</p> + +<p>"It's 'igh time 'e was in bed," said Mr. Watlin, +taking the fiddle brusquely from the Italian's +hands, "'e don't fancy doleful ditties, an' no more +do I, hey Johnnie?"</p> + +<p>Tony only smiled at me. "I tink you like my +music," he said.</p> + +<p>Harry now announced rather hurriedly that +he must be going, and after he had said good-night +to every one, and thanked Mary Ellen in a +very manly way, he still kept my hand in his, +and, together, we passed out of doors.</p> + +<p>It was frosty cold. The air came gratefully +to my hot cheeks. Harry stared up at the stars +in silence for a moment, then he said:</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you something, John, before +I go. I don't know just how to make you understand. +But I—I'm not the loafer you think I +am—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't—"</p> + +<p>"No one but a loafer or a sponge would do +what I've done tonight," he persisted, "but I +came here because I like you little chaps so well—and—because—I +was so infernally hungry. +I hadn't eaten since last night, you know, and +when I heard about the oysters and coffee, I just +couldn't refuse, and—I came."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, "I'm sorry, Harry! +I like you awfully!"</p> + +<p>I gave him my hand and, hearing the voices +of Mr. Watlin and Tony, he hurried to the street.</p> + +<p>I stumbled sleepily into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Och, do go to bed, Masther John!" exclaimed +Mary Ellen, "you're as white as a cloth! +Well, if you're sick tomorrow, ye must jist grin +an' bear it! An' sure we <i>have</i> had a day of it, +haven't we? Thim oysters was the clane thing!"</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>She followed us to the foot of the stairs with +a lamp. The shadows of the bannisters raced +up the wall ahead of us, as she moved away. +The Seraph gripped the back of my blouse. We +stopped at the door of Mrs. Handsomebody's +bedroom. Like Mrs. Handsomebody, it towered +above us, pale and forbidding.</p> + +<p>"I dare you," said Angel, "to open it and stick +your head in."</p> + +<p>I was too drowsy to be timid. I turned the +handle and opened the door far enough to insert +my round tow head.</p> + +<p>The room was unutterably still. A pale bluish +light filtered through the long white curtains. +The ghostly bed awaited its occupant. The door +of a tall wardrobe stood open—did something +stir inside? I withdrew my head and closed +the door. Now I remembered that the room +had smelled of black kid gloves. I shuddered.</p> + +<p>"You were afraid!" jeered Angel.</p> + +<p>"Not I. It was nothing to do."</p> + +<p>But when we were safe in bed and Mary Ellen +had come and put out our light, I lay a-thinking +of the empty room. Strange, when people went +away and left you, how Something stayed behind! +A shadowy, wistful something, that +smelled of kid gloves!</p> + +<p>We slept till ten next morning. Mary Ellen +superintended our baths. We were in a state +to behold, she said, and she was apprehensive +lest Mrs. Handsomebody should observe my +swollen nose, for the big boy's fist had somewhat +enlarged that unobtrusive feature.</p> + +<p>"Jist say ye've a bit of feverish cold if she +remarks it," she cautioned, "people often swells +up wid colds."</p> + +<p>We ate our bread and strawberry jam and milk +from one end of the dining table. We heaped +the bread with sugar, and stirred the jam into +our milk. After breakfast, we played at knights +and robbers in the schoolroom. It was a raw +morning, and a Scotch mist dimmed the window +pane.</p> + +<p>Angel and I were in the midst of a terrific fight +over a princess whom he was bearing off to his robber +cave (The Seraph, draped in a chenille table-cover, +impersonating the princess) when we were +interrupted by the tinkle of the dinner bell.</p> + +<p>How the morning had flown! Had she returned +then? Was the funeral over? Had she +heard our shouts? We descended the stairs with +some misgivings and entered the dining-room in +single file.</p> + +<p>Yes, she was there, standing by the table, her +black dress looking blacker than ever! After +a dry little kiss on each of our foreheads, she +motioned us to seat ourselves, and took her own +accustomed place behind the tea things. There +was a solemn click of knives and forks. Mary +Ellen waited on us primly. It was not to be +thought that this was the same room in which +we had feasted so uproariously on the night +previous.</p> + +<p>Yet I stared at Mrs. Handsomebody and marvelled +that she should suspect nothing. Did she +get no whiff of the furry smell of Anita? Did +no faint echo of Tony's music disturb her +thoughts? What were her thoughts? Deep +ones I was sure, for her brow was knit. Was +she thinking of that brother on whom the Scotch +mist was falling so remorselessly?</p> + +<p>The Seraph was speaking.</p> + +<p>"It's a vewy bad fing to be dead," he was saying +reminiscently—, "you can't eat, you can't +dwink, an' you jus' fly awound lookin' for somefing +to light on!"</p> + +<p>I trembled for him, but Mrs. Handsomebody, +lost in thought, gave no heed to him.</p> + +<p>At last she raised her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I hope you behaved yourselves well, and made +profitable use of your time during my absence?"</p> + +<p>We made incoherent murmurs of assent.</p> + +<p>"Name the Channel Islands, John."</p> + +<p>"Guernsey, Jersey, Alderney, Sark, and +Herm," I replied glibly. So much had I saved +from the wreck of things ordained.</p> + +<p>"Correct. Are you through your dinners +then? You may pass out. Ah, your nose, John; +it looks quite red. What caused that?"</p> + +<p>I said that I believed I had an inward burning +fever. I had embellished Mary Ellen's suggestion.</p> + +<p>"I hope you are not going to be ill," she +sighed.</p> + +<p>It was not until Angel and I were back in the +schoolroom, that we discovered the absence of The +Seraph. We turned surprised looks on each +other. Our junior seldom left our heels.</p> + +<p>"I remember now," reflected Angel, "that, as +he passed her, she stopped him. I didn't think +anything of it. What can she have found out? +D'you s'pose she's pumping the kid?"</p> + +<p>We were left to our conjectures for fully a +quarter of an hour. Then we heard him plodding +leisurely up the stairs. We greeted him +impatiently.</p> + +<p>"What's up? Did you blab? Whatever <i>did</i> +she say?" We hurled the questions at him.</p> + +<p>The Seraph maintained an air of calm superiority. +He even hopped from one floral wreath +on the carpet to another, with his hands behind +his back, as was his custom when he wished to +reflect undisturbed. He ignored our importunities.</p> + +<p>Angel, in exasperation, took him by the collar.</p> + +<p>"You tell us why she kept you down there so +long!"</p> + +<p>Thus cornered, The Seraph raised his large eyes +to our inquiring faces with great solemnity.</p> + +<p>"She kept me," he said, "to cuddle me, an' +to give me this—" he showed a white peppermint +lozenge between his little teeth.</p> + +<p>To <i>cuddle</i> him. Was the world coming to an +end?</p> + +<p>"Yes," he persisted, "she kept me to cuddle +me, an' she was cwyin'—so there!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody crying!</p> + +<p>"It's about her dead brother, of course," +said Angel. "That's why she cried."</p> + +<p>"No," said The Seraph, stoutly. "He was a +<i>man</i>, an' she was cwyin' about a little <i>wee</i> boy +like me, she used to cuddle long ago!"</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch6">Chapter VI: D'ye Ken John +Peel?</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Probably a little boy is never quite so happy +as when he is worshipping and imitating a young +man. From this time on my hero was Harry, +about whom so fascinating an air of mystery +hung that his lightest word was something to be +treasured. I pictured him, hungry and alone, +perhaps brooding over the Collect for next Sunday, +or something of equal melancholy. I was +always on the watch for his tall, slender figure, +when we took our walks, but when we did meet +again, it came as a surprise, and quite took me +off my feet.</p> + +<p>A month had passed since Mary Ellen's party. +It was a windy, sunny day in March, and great +white clouds billowed in a clear sky—like clean +clothes in a tub of blueing, Mary Ellen had said. +I was sitting alone on the steps of the Cathedral. +Angel was in the schoolroom writing his weekly +letter to father, and The Seraph was suffering +a bath at the hands of Mary Ellen, following an +excursion into the remoter depths of the coal +cellar.</p> + +<p>So I sat on the Cathedral steps alone. It was +a fine morning for flights of the imagination. +The soft thunder of the Cathedral organ became +at my will the booming of the surf on a distant +coral reef. The pigeons wheeling overhead became +gulls, whimpering in the cordage. Little +did the ancient caretaker reck, as he swept the +stretch of flagging before the carved door, that he +was washing off the deck of a frigate, whilst I, the +rover of the seas, kept a stern eye on him. +Louder boomed the surf—then soft again. The +door behind me had opened and closed. The +deck-washer touched his cap. Then the Bishop +stood above me, smiling, the sun glinting in his +blue eyes and on the buttons of his gaiters.</p> + +<p>"Hal-<i>lo</i>, John," he said. "What's the game +this morning. Seafaring as usual?"</p> + +<p>I nodded, "She's as saucy a frigate," I answered +happily, "as ever sailed the seas, and this +here wild weather is just a frolic for her. But +I don't like the look of yon black craft to the +windward." And I pointed to a dustman's cart +that had just hove into view.</p> + +<p>"I entirely agree with you," replied the Bishop. +"She looks as though she were out on dirty business. +I'd like nothing better than to stay and see +you make short work of her, but here it is Friday morning, and not a blessed word of my sermon +written, so I must be getting on." And with +that he strode down the street to his own house. +I was alone again watching the approaching vessel +with suspicion. Then, above the thrashing of +the spray, I heard my name spoken by a voice +I knew, and turning looked straight up into +Harry's face.</p> + +<p>"John!" he repeated. "What luck. I have +been watching for you for days, you little hermit!"</p> + +<p>"Watching for me, Harry?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he proceeded, "and the one time I saw +you, that starched governess of yours had you +gripped by the hand—"</p> + +<p>—"just like any old baby girl," I broke in.</p> + +<p>Harry laughed and shook my hand enthusiastically. +I saw that he was even thinner than +before. Was he, I wondered, "infernally hungry" +at this very minute?</p> + +<p>"John," he said, looking into my eyes: "You +can help me if you will. We're friends, aren't +we?"</p> + +<p>I let him see that I was all on fire to help him, +and it was then that he made his wonderful suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Would it be possible to evade your governess +long enough to come and have a bite with +me?"</p> + +<p>Dinner with Harry! In his own room! What +an adventure to repeat to Angel and The Seraph! +Without further parley I set off down Henwood +street at a trot lest Mrs. Handsomebody should +spy me from her bedroom window, in a fateful +way she had. Harry hurried after me, catching +my arm and drawing me close to him.</p> + +<p>"What a plucky little shaver you are, John," +he said. "I know she's a corker, but I think you +and I are a match for her, eh?"</p> + +<p>I strode beside him breathless. I felt taller, +stronger, than ever before. By contrast with our +masculinity Mrs. Handsomebody seemed a rather +pitiful old woman.</p> + +<p>We spoke little, but hurried through many +streets, till, at last, we came to the narrow dingy +one where I had first seen Harry. We turned +down an alley beside a green grocer's shop and +entered a narrow doorway into the strangest +passage I had ever seen.</p> + +<p>It was damp and chill. The floor was paved +with dark red bricks and the walls were stone. +On our left I glimpsed a dim closet where a +woman with fat arms was dipping milk out of +what looked like a zinc-covered box. On our +right rose the steepest, most winding staircase imaginable; +and close to the wall beside the stairs +towered a giant grapevine whose stem was as +thick as a man's arm. After an eccentric curve +or two, this amazing vine disappeared through a +convenient hole in the roof. I was lost in admiration +and should have liked to stop and examine +it, but Harry urged me up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"How is that for steep?" he demanded, at the +top. "Winded, eh? Now these are my digs, +John—" and he threw open a door with a flourish.</p> + +<p>It was a shabby little room with a threadbare +carpet, yet it wore an air of adventure somehow. +The lamp shade had a daring tilt to it; the blind +had been run up askew; and the red table cover +had been pushed back to make room for a mound +of books. Harry's bed looked as though he had +been having a pillow fight. Surely not with the +fat lady downstairs.</p> + +<p>Harry was clearing the table by tossing the +books into the middle of the bed. "We're going +to have tea directly," he explained. "Can't you +hear her puffing up the stairs? I expect a catastrophe +every time she does it." He set two chairs +at the table and gazed eagerly at the doorway.</p> + +<p>She appeared at last with heaving bosom carrying +a large tray, and began to lay the table. I +observed with great interest that she was placing +a whole kidney for each of us, and that there were +also potato chips and six jam puffs. Harry bade +me sit down with the air of one who entertains a +guest of importance; I swelled with pride as I attacked +the kidney.</p> + +<p>Harry, sitting opposite, eating with a gusto +equal to my own, seemed to me the most perfect +and luckiest of mortals.</p> + +<p>"Harry!" I got it out through my mouth full +of potato chips, "Harry, I say! Do you always +have jolly things like these to eat?"</p> + +<p>He gave a short laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, my John! On the contrary there are +many times when I do not eat at all. However, +I paid a visit to an uncle of mine yesterday, who +gave me so much money that I shall live well for +some time to come, but—I shall never know the +time o'day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that's fine—" I cried, "Not to know +the time! I wish I didn't for it's always time to +go to bed, or do lessons, or take a tiresome walk +with Mrs. Handsomebody."</p> + +<p>Harry stared hard at me. "What do you suppose," +he asked, "she'll do to you, for skipping +dinner? Something pretty hot?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno," I returned. "It's a new sort of +badness. P'raps I'll have to do without tea, or +maybe she'll write to father—she's always threatening. +Don't let's talk about it."</p> + +<p>"She appears to be a rather poisonous old +party," commented Harry. "I see that it behooves +me to get to business and tell you just why +I brought you here." He pushed back his plate +and took from his pocket a short thick pipe and +lighted it.</p> + +<p>"Now John," he smiled, "just finish up those +jam puffs. Don't leave one, or my landlady will +eat it, and she has double chins enough. I want +to talk to you as man to man."</p> + +<p>Man to man! How I wished that Angel could +see me, being made the confidant of Harry! I +helped myself to my third jam puff with an air of +cool deliberation.</p> + +<p>"Now—" Harry leant across the table, his +eyes on mine, "What sort of looking man would +you expect my father to be, John?"</p> + +<p>I studied Harry and hazarded—"A brown +face, and awfully thin, and greenish eyes, and +crinkly brown hair."</p> + +<p>"Wrong!" cried Harry, smiting the table. +"My father's got a full pink face, the bluest of +eyes and a fine head of white hair, which, I am +afraid I helped to whiten, worse luck!"</p> + +<p>"He sounds nice," I commented.</p> + +<p>"He is. Now what do you suppose my father +<i>does</i>, John?"</p> + +<p>"Not a <i>pirate</i>!" but I said it hopefully.</p> + +<p>"Far from it. He's a bishop."</p> + +<p>"Hurray!" I cried. "Our best friend is a +bishop. He lives right next door to us."</p> + +<p>"The very man," said Harry. "He's my +father."</p> + +<p>I was incredulous.</p> + +<p>"But he's only got his niece, Margery, and his +butler, and his cook! The cook's awfully good +to him. Makes his favorite pudding any day he +wants it."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but he's got me too," said Harry solemnly, +"or, at least, he <i>should</i> have me. We're +at the outs."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, all you have to do is to make +friends, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Not so simple as it sounds," replied Harry +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"I have been a bad son to him." He rose abruptly +and began walking up and down the room. +I got to my feet too, and strode beside him, +hands deep in pockets. I longed for a short +thick pipe.</p> + +<p>"I never did what he wanted me to," pursued +Harry. "He wanted me to stick at college and +make something of myself, but all I cared to do +was to knock about with chaps who weren't good +for me, and I simply wouldn't study. So we had +words. Hot ones too. I left home with a little +money my mother had left me. I was twenty-one +then—five years ago." He looked down in my +face with his sudden smile. "You're a rum little +toad," he said. "I like to talk to you, John."</p> + +<p>I thought: "When I'm a man I'll have a pipe +like that, and hold it in my teeth when I talk."</p> + +<p>Harry sat down on the side of his tumbled bed +clasping an ankle.</p> + +<p>"For three years," he went on, "I knocked +about from one country to another seeing the +world, till at last all my money was gone. Then +I came back to England but I wouldn't go to my +father until I had done something that would +justify myself—make him proud of me. It +seemed to me that I could become a great actor +if I had a chance. Very well. After a lot of +waiting and disappointments I got an engagement +with a third rate company that travelled +mostly on one-night stands—you understand?</p> + +<p>"I have been at it ever since, playing all sorts +of parts—companies breaking up without salaries +being paid—then another just as bad—cheap +lodgings—bad food—and long stretches of being +out of a job altogether. I am that way now. +I have only seen my father once in all this time. +It was simply—well—" He gave his funny +smile and shook his head ruefully.</p> + +<p>I leaned over the foot of the bed staring +expectantly.</p> + +<p>"We had arrived one Sunday morning in a +small town, and were trailing wearily down the +street just as the people were going to morning +service. Suddenly, as I was passing a large +church, I saw my father alight from the carriage +at the door. I found out afterwards that he +had come to conduct a special service. He was +so near that I could have touched him, but I just +stood, rooted to the spot, so beastly ashamed +you know, with my shabby travelling bag behind +me, and my heart pounding away like Billy-ho!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish he'd seen you!" I cried, "he'd +have made it up like a shot."</p> + +<p>Harry blew a great cloud of smoke. "Well, +I want to sneak back to him, John—but—here's +the rub—<i>perhaps Margery does not want me</i>." +He sucked gloomily at his pipe for a bit in silence, +then taking it from his mouth he stabbed at me +with the stem of it.</p> + +<p>"This is where you come in my friend. You'd +like to help, wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>I nodded emphatically.</p> + +<p>"This, then, is what I want you to do. Find +Margery this afternoon and say to her: 'Margery, +I've met your cousin Harry. Would you +like to have him come home again?' Watch her +face then—you're a shrewd little fellow—and if +she looks happy and pleased about it you must +let me know, but if she looks glum and as if her +plans had been upset, you must tell me just the +same. Never mind what she says, watch her +face. Will you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Rather!" We shook hands on it.</p> + +<p>"But—" I asked, "when shall I see you? I +daren't come here again, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow is Saturday," he replied thoughtfully. +"The Bishop will keep to his study till +noon—"</p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Handsomebody goes to market!" +I chimed in.</p> + +<p>"Good. I'll be at the Cathedral corner at ten +o'clock. Meet me there. Now you'd better cut +home."</p> + +<p>He took my arm and led me down the strange +winding stairway, through the cool damp passage +where the grapevine grew, to the sunken doorstep.</p> + +<p>"Know your way home?" he demanded. +"Right-o! I depend on you, John. And mind +you watch her face, <i>like a cat</i>. Good-bye!" +And he affectionately squeezed my arm.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>I set off as fast as my legs could carry me; +and the nearer home I drew, the greater became +my fear of Mrs. Handsomebody. What would +she say? Dinner would be over long ago I knew. +My steps began to lag as I reached the Cathedral +corner. The great grey pile usually so friendly +now rose before me gloomily. Inside, the organ +boomed like an accusing voice. My heart sank. +Mrs. Handsomebody's house with the blinds +drawn three-quarters of the way down the windows +seemed to watch my approach with an air +of cold cynicism.</p> + +<p>Softly I turned the door-knob and entered the +dim hall. All was quiet, a quiet pervaded by +the familiar smell of old fabrics, bygone meals, +and umbrellas. The white door of the parlour +towered like a ghost. I put my arm across my +eyes and began to cry.</p> + +<p>At first I only snivelled, but surrendered myself +after a few successful ventures, to a loud despairing +roar.</p> + +<p>I could see the blurred image of Mrs. Handsomebody +standing at the top of the stairs. I +heard her sharp command to mount them instantly, +and I began to grope my way up, hanging +by the bannister.</p> + +<p>When I had gained the top, her angular hand +grasped my shoulder and pushed me before her, +into the schoolroom. The Seraph's eyes were +large with sympathy, but Angel grinned maliciously. +Our governess seated herself beside her +desk and placed me in front of her.</p> + +<p>"Now," she said, in a voice of cold anger, +"will <i>you</i> be good enough to explain your strange +conduct? Where have you been all this while?"</p> + +<p>"Sittin' on the Cathedral steps," I sobbed.</p> + +<p>"That is a falsehood, John. Twice I sent +David to search for you there and both +times he reported that you were nowhere +in sight. <i>Where were you?</i> Answer truthfully +or it will be the worse for you."</p> + +<p>"I h-hid when I saw him comin'," I stammered, +"I was too s-sick to come home." Surely +this would affect her!</p> + +<p>She stared incredulously. "Sick! Where are +you sick?"</p> + +<p>"All o-ver."</p> + +<p>"Take your hand from your eyes. What +made you sick?"</p> + +<p>"I f-fell."</p> + +<p>"Fell!" her tone was contemptuous. "Where +did you fall?"</p> + +<p>"D-down."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody became ironical.</p> + +<p>"How <i>extraordinary</i>! I have never heard of +people falling up."</p> + +<p>"They can fall out," interrupted Angel.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody rapped her ruler in his +direction.</p> + +<p>"Silence!" she gobbled. "Not another word +from you." Then, turning to me—"You say +that you fell down, hurt yourself, and have since +been in hiding. Now tell me <i>precisely</i> what happened +from the moment that you ventured beyond +the bounds I have prescribed for you."</p> + +<p>There was no use in hedging. I saw that there +was nothing for it but to drown this woman out; +so I raised my voice and drowned her out.</p> + +<p>My next sensation was that of a scuffle, several +sharp smacks with the ruler, and at last being +sat down very hard on a chair in our bedroom. +Mrs. Handsomebody was standing in the doorway. +I had never seen her with so high a colour.</p> + +<p>"You will remain in that chair," she commanded, +"until tea time. Do not loll on the +bed. And you may rest assured that I shall +leave no stone unturned till I have discovered +every detail of this prank. It is at such times +as these that I regret ever having undertaken +the charge of three such unruly boys. It is only +the high regard in which I hold your father that +makes it tolerable. I hope you will take advantage +of your solitude to review thoroughly +your past."</p> + +<p>She closed the door with deliberate forebearance, +then I heard the key click in the lock +and her inexorable retreating footsteps.</p> + +<p>I found my wad of a handkerchief and rubbed +my cheeks. I had stopped crying but my +body still was shaken. For a long time I sat +staring straight before me busy with plans for +the afternoon. Then I fell asleep.</p> + +<p>A soft thumping on the panel of the door +roused me at last. I felt stiff and rather desolate.</p> + +<p>"John!" It was The Seraph's voice. "I say, +John! You should be a dwagon, an' when I +kick on the door you should woar fwightfully."</p> + +<p>"Where's <i>she</i>?" 'Twas thus we designated +our governess.</p> + +<p>"Gone away out. Will you be a dwagon, +John?"</p> + +<p>Obligingly I dropped to my hands and knees +and ambled to the door. The Seraph kicked it +vigorously and I began to roar. I was pleased +to find that so much crying had left my voice +very husky so that I could indeed roar horribly. +The louder The Seraph kicked the louder I +roared. It was exhausting, and I had had about +enough of it when I heard Mary Ellen pounding +up the uncarpeted back stairs.</p> + +<p>"If you kick that dure onct more—" she panted—"ye +little tormint—I'll put a tin ear on ye! +As fer you, Masther John, 'tis yersilf has a voice +like young thunder!"</p> + +<p>She unlocked the door and threw it wide open; +Angel and The Seraph crowded in after her. +Mary Ellen's sleeves were rolled above her +elbows, her red face was covered with little beads +of perspiration, and she wore large goloshes. A +savour of soap suds, mops, and the corners of old +pantries, emanated from her. She extended to +me a moist palm on which lay a thick slice of +bread spread with cold veal gravy.</p> + +<p>"This," said she, "is to stay ye till tea-time; +an' now let me git back to me scrubbin' or the +suds'll be all dried up on me."</p> + +<p>But I caught her apron and held her fast.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't go, Mary Ellen!" I begged, "I've +something awfully interesting to tell you. Do +sit down!"</p> + +<p>"I will not thin. And you've nothin' to tell +me that I haven't got be heart already."</p> + +<p>"But this is about Harry, who had supper with +us and Mr. Watlin and Tony. It's a most surprising +adventure. Just wait and hear." I +dragged her to a chair.</p> + +<p>She settled back with a smile of relaxation. +"Aw well," she remarked, "who would be foriver +workin' fer small pay an' little thanks? Out +wid your story my lambie." And she drew The +Seraph on her ample lap.</p> + +<p>So while they clustered about me I told my +whole adventure, ending with Harry's plea that +I interview Margery on his behalf.</p> + +<p>"It's a 'normous responsibility," I sighed.</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry," said Mary Ellen, "she'll +want him home fast enough, a fine young gintleman +like him. Now I'm minded of it, their cook +did tell me that the Bishop had a son that was a +regular playboy.</p> + +<p>"He's not a playboy," I retorted. "He's +splendid—and <i>please</i> Mary Ellen, there's something +I want you to do for me. You must let +me go this minute to see Margery and find out +if she wants him back again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she'll have him, no fear." This with a +broad smile.</p> + +<p>"But I've got to <i>ask</i> her. I promised. It's +a 'normous responsibility. Will you <i>please</i> let +me, Mary El-len?"</p> + +<p>"I will not," replied Mary Ellen, firmly. +"It'ud be as much as my place is worth."</p> + +<p>I began to cry. Angel came to the rescue.</p> + +<p>"Be a sport, Mary Ellen. Let him go. I'll +stand at the gate and if I see the Dragon coming, +I'll pass the tip to John, and he can cut over +the garden wall and be in the room before she +gets to the front door."</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen threw up her hands. She never +could resist Angel's coaxing. "God save Ireland," +she groaned, and, dropping The Seraph, +clattered back to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>The Seraph stood like a rumpled robin where +she had deposited him. He had confided to me +once that he rather liked being nursed by Mary +Ellen, though the heaving of her bosom bothered +him. He was far too polite to tell her this: but +now that she was gone, he hunched his shoulders, +stretched his neck and breathed—</p> + +<p>"What a welief!—"</p> + +<p>I found Margery alone in the drawing-room. +People had just been, for teacups were standing +about, and a single muffin lay in a silver muffin +dish. Even in the stress of my mission its isolation +appealed to me.</p> + +<p>Margery was doing something to a bowl of +roses but she looked up, startled at my appearance.</p> + +<p>"Why, John!" she exclaimed, "what is the matter +with you? Have you been crying? Your +face is awfully smudgy."</p> + +<p>"Sorry," I replied, "I wasn't crying but I'm +on very particular business and I hadn't time to +wash." I went at it, hammer and tongs, then—"It's +about Harry. He wants to know if you'll +have him home again."</p> + +<p>Margery looked just puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Harry! Harry who?"</p> + +<p>"Your Harry," I replied, manfully. "The +Bishop's Harry." And I poured out the whole +story of my meeting with Harry and his passionate +desire to come home. All the while, I +anxiously watched Margery's face for signs of +joy or disapproval. It was pale and still as the +face of a white moth, but when she spoke her +words fell on my budding hopes like cold rain. +She put her hands on my shoulders and said +earnestly:</p> + +<p>"You must tell him not to come, John. It +would be such a great pity! The Bishop is quite, +quite used to being without him now, and it would +upset him dreadfully to try to forgive Harry. +I don't believe he could. And he and I are so +contented. Harry would be very disturbing—you +see, he's such a restless young man, John; +and he hasn't been at all kind to his father. He's +done—things—"</p> + +<p>"But you don't know him!" I interrupted. +"He's splendid!"</p> + +<p>"I don't <i>want</i> to know him," Margery persisted. +"He's a very—"</p> + +<p>I could let this thing go no further. Here +was another woman who must be drowned out. +I raised my voice, therefore, and almost +shouted—</p> + +<p>"Well, you've got to know him! He's coming +home tomorrow night. At seven. He +wants his bed got ready. So there."</p> + +<p>Margery sat down. She got quite red.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"'Cos I was breaking it to you gently, like +they do accidents," I answered calmly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Margery began to laugh hysterically. +She pressed her palms against her cheeks and +laughed and laughed. Then she said:—</p> + +<p>"John, you're a most extraordinary boy."</p> + +<p>I thought so too, but I said, modestly—"Oh, +well. Somebody had to do it." Then, in the +flush of my triumph I remembered Mrs. Handsomebody. +"But, oh, I say, I must be going! +And—please—would it matter much if we were +here to see him come home? We'd be very +quiet."</p> + +<p>Margery looked relieved. "I believe it would +help—" she said. "It will be rather difficult. +Yes, do come. Ask your governess if you may +spend an hour with Uncle and me between your +tea and bedtime. And, oh, John, that muffin +looks wretchedly lonely."</p> + +<p>Outside, I divided the spoils with Angel.</p> + +<p>"Well—" he demanded, his mouth full of +muffin—"shewanimbagagen?"</p> + +<p>"Rather," I cried, joyously. "I managed the +whole thing. And we're to be there at seven to +see him come."</p> + +<p>We raced to the kitchen and told Mary Ellen, +who was promptly impressed, but The Seraph +after a close scrutiny of us, said bitterly—</p> + +<p>"There's cwumbs on your faces!"</p> + +<p>"Cwumbs on your own face, old sillybilly!" +mocked Angel, "and what's more, they're sugar +cwumbs!"</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>As fate would have it, Mrs. Handsomebody +decreed that I should not leave the house on +Saturday morning, and she, having a spell of +sciatica did not go to market, as usual; so there +I was, unable to meet Harry on the cathedral +steps, as I had promised. It simply meant that +Angel must undertake the mission, while I kicked +my heels in the schoolroom.</p> + +<p>He undertook it with a careless alacrity that +was very irritating to one who longed to finish, +in his own fashion, an undertaking that had, so +far, been carried on with masterly diplomacy.</p> + +<p>The Seraph went with Angel, and it seemed +a long hour indeed till I heard the longed-for +footsteps hurrying up the stairs. The door was +thrown open, and they burst in rosy and wind-blown.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," announced Angel briskly. +"He'll be there sharp at seven, and he's jolly +glad that we're to be there too!"</p> + +<p>"And did you tell him?" I asked rather plaintively, +"that I had done the whole thing?"</p> + +<p>"Course I did."</p> + +<p>"What did he say when you told him he was +to come home?"</p> + +<p>"He slapped his leg—" Angel gave his own +leg a vigorous slap in illustration—"and said—'once +aboard the lugger, and the girl is mine!'"</p> + +<p>It was a fascinating and cryptic utterance. We +all tried it on varying notes of exultation. It +put zest into what otherwise would have been a +dragging day. By tea-time our legs were sore +with whacking.</p> + +<p>Came the hour at last. We set out holding +each other by moist clean hands, an admonishing +Mrs. Handsomebody on the doorsill.</p> + +<p>Our hearts were high with excitement when +we were shown ceremoniously into the Bishop's +library, where he and Margery were sitting in +the dancing firelight. We loved the dark-panelled +room where we were always made so +happy. At Mrs. Handsomebody's we could +never do anything right, mugs of milk had a spiteful +way of tilting over on the table-cloth without +ever having been touched, but we could handle +the things in the Chinese cabinet here or play +carpet ball on the rug in the most seemly fashion.</p> + +<p>No one could tell stories like the Bishop, and +after we had played for a bit, and The Seraph +had demonstrated, on the hearthrug, how he +could turn a somersault, some one suggested a +story.</p> + +<p>I often thought it a pity that those, who only +heard the Bishop preach, should never know how +his great talents were wasted in that rôle. It +took the "Arabian Nights" to bring out the deep +thrill of his sonorous voice, and his power of filling +the human heart with delicious fear.</p> + +<p>Now we perched about him listening with rapt +eyes to the tale of Ali Baba. We wished there +were more women like the faithful Morgiana with +her pot of boiling oil. The Seraph, especially, +revelled in the thought of those poor devils of +thieves, each simmering away in his own jar.</p> + +<p>There fell a silence when the story was +finished, and I was just casting about in my mind +for the next one I should beg, when, Angel, looking +at the clock, suddenly asked:</p> + +<p>"Bishop, will you sing? Will you please sing +us a nice old song 'stead of a story? Sing 'John +Peel,' won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Please sing 'John Peel'!" echoed The Seraph.</p> + +<p>The Bishop seemed loath to sing "John Peel." +It was years since he had sung it, he said; he had +almost forgotten the words. But when Margery +joined her persuasions to ours, he consented +to sing just one verse and the chorus. So +he sang (but rather softly);</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"D'ye ken John Peel, with his coat so grey?</p> +<p class="i2">D'ye ken John Peel, at the break of day?</p> +<p>D'ye ken John Peel, when he's far, far away,</p> +<p class="i2">With his hounds and his horn in the morning?"</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Before he had time to begin the chorus, it was +taken up by a mellow baritone voice in the hall. +It began softly too, but when it reached the +"View halloo," it rang boldly.</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed,</p> +<p class="i2">And the cry of his hounds, which he oft-times led,</p> +<p>Peel's 'View halloo!' would awaken the dead,</p> +<p class="i2">Or the fox from his lair in the morning."</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The Bishop never moved a muscle till the last +note died away, then he shook us off him, took +three strides to the door, and swept the curtains +back. Harry stood in the doorway with a rather +shame-faced smile.</p> + +<p>"Good God!" exclaimed the Bishop. +"Harry!" Then he put his arms around him +and kissed him.</p> + +<p>I threw a triumphant glance at Margery. It +hadn't hurt the Bishop at all to forgive Harry.</p> + +<p>"It was all the doing of these kids," Harry +was saying, "if they hadn't cleared the way, I'd +never have dared. John engineered everything. +As a diplomat he's a pocket marvel."</p> + +<p>He and Margery gave each other a very funny +look. I should like to have heard their later +conversation.</p> + +<p>"They're good boys," said the Bishop, with +an arm still around Harry, "capital boys, and +if their governess will let them come to dinner +tomorrow we'll have a sort of party, and talk +everything over. I think cook would make a +blackberry pudding. Will you arrange it Margery? +Just now I want—" He said no more, +but he and Harry gripped hands.</p> + +<p>Margery herded us gently into the hall, and +gave us each two chocolate bars.</p> + +<p>Going home under the first pale stars, we were +three rollicking blades indeed. We no longer +held hands, but we hooked arms, and swaggered +and we did not ring the bell till the last vestige of +chocolate was gone.</p> + +<p>As we waited for Mary Ellen, I said, suddenly +to Angel:</p> + +<p>"Angel, what made you ask the Bishop to sing +'John Peel'? Did you know Harry was going +to sing in the hall?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Harry and I fixed that up this morning," +replied my senior, airily. "I kept it to myself, +'cos I didn't want any interference, see?"</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen, opening the door at this moment, +prevented a scuffle, though I was in too happy a +mood to quarrel with any one.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody was surprisingly civil +about our visit. She showed great interest in +the return of the Bishop's only son. Was he a +nice young man? she asked. Was he nice-looking? +Did the Bishop appear to be overjoyed to +see him?</p> + +<p>We three were seated on three stiff-backed +chairs, our backs to the wall. Angel and I told +her as much as was good for her to know of the +adventure.</p> + +<p>The Seraph felt that he was being ignored, +so when a pause came, he remarked in that +throaty little voice of his:</p> + +<p>"It's a vewy bad fing to be boiled in oil."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody. +"Say that again!"</p> + +<p>"It's a vewy bad fing to be boiled in oil," reiterated +The Seraph suavely, "thirty-nine of 'em +there was—for the captain was stabbed alweady—boilin' +away in oil. Their <i>ears was full of it</i>."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody gripped the arms of her +chair, and leaned towards him.</p> + +<p>"Alexander, I have never known a child of +such tender years to possess so unquenchable a lust +for frightfulness. It must be eradicated at all +costs."</p> + +<p>The Seraph stood, then, balancing himself on +the rung of his chair,</p> + +<p>"'Once aboard the lugger,'" he sang out, slapping +his plump little thigh, "'and the gell is +mine!'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody sank back in her chair. +She said:</p> + +<p>"This is appalling. David—John—take your +little brother to bed instantly! Take him out +of my hearing."</p> + +<p>Angel and I each grasped an arm of the reluctant +infant and dragged him from the room. He +stamped up the stairway between us, with an air +of stubborn jollity.</p> + +<p>When we had reached the top, he loosed himself +from me and put his head over the handrail.</p> + +<p>"'John Peel's View Halloo! would waken the +dead'—" he roared down into the hall.</p> + +<p>But he got no further. Between us we hustled +him into the bedroom, and shut the door. Angel +and I leaned against it, then, in helpless laughter.</p> + +<p>In a moment I felt my arm squeezed by Angel, +who was pointing ecstatically toward the bed.</p> + +<p>There, by the bedside, his dimpled hands +folded, his curly head meekly bent, knelt The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>He was saying his prayers.</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch7">Chapter VII: Granfa</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>At Mrs. Handsomebody's on a Sunday morning +Angel and I had an egg divided between us, +after our porridge. It was boiled rather hard +so that it might not run, and we watched the +cutting of it jealously. The Seraph's infant organs +were supposed not to be strong enough to +cope with even half an egg, so he must needs +satisfy himself with the cap from Mrs. Handsomebody's; +and he made the pleasure endure +by the most minute nibbling, filling up the gaps +with large mouthfuls of toast.</p> + +<p>It was at a Sunday morning breakfast that +Mrs. Handsomebody broached the subject of fishing. +Angel and I had just scraped the last +vestige of rubbery white from our half shells, +and, having reversed them in our egg-cups, were +gazing wistfully at what appeared to be two unchipped +eggs, when she spoke.</p> + +<p>"You have been invited by Bishop Torrance +to go on a fishing excursion with him tomorrow, +and I have consented; provided, of course, that +your conduct today be most exemplary. What +do you say? Thanks would not be amiss."</p> + +<p>Angel and I mumbled thanks, though we were +well nigh speechless with astonishment and joy. +The Seraph bolted his cherished bit of egg whole +and said in his polite little voice:</p> + +<p>"He's a vewy nice man to take us fishin'. I +wonder what made him do it."</p> + +<p>"I have never pretended," returned Mrs. +Handsomebody, stiffly, "to account for the +vagaries of the male. Yet I grant you it seems +singular that a dignitary of the church should +find pleasure in such a project, in company with +three growing boys."</p> + +<p>"If it had been anyone but the Bishop," she +went on, "I should have refused, for there are +untold possibilities of danger in trout fishing. +You must, for example, guard against imbedding +the fish hook in the flesh, which is most painful, +often leading to blood-poisoning. This is +to say nothing of the risk in sitting on damp +grass, or the stings of insects."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever sit on the sting of an insect, +please?" questioned The Seraph eagerly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody looked at him sharply. +"One more question of that character," she said, +"and you will remain at home." Then, glancing +around the table, she went on—"What! +your eggs gone so soon? We shall give thanks +then. Alexander"—to The Seraph—"It is your +turn to say grace. Proceed."</p> + +<p>The Seraph, with folded hands and bent head, +repeated glibly:</p> + +<p>"Accept our thanks, O Lord, for these Thy +good cweatures given to our use, and by them +fit us for Thy service. Amen."</p> + +<p>There was a scraping of chairs, and we got to +our feet. The Seraph, holding his bit of egg +shell in his warm little palm asked—"Is an egg a +cweature, yet?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody gloomed down at him +from her height. "I say it in all solemnity, +Alexander, the natural bent of your mind is toward +the ribald and cynical. I do what I can +to curb it, but I fear for your future." And +she swept from the room.</p> + +<p>Eagerly we took our places in the choir stalls +that morning.</p> + +<p>The May sunshine had taken on the mellowness +of summer, and it struck fire from the sacred +vessels on the altar, and the brazen-winged eagle +of the lectern. Strange-shaped patterns of wine-colour +and violet were cast from the stained glass +windows upon the walls and pillars, enriching the +grey fabric of the church, like tropic flowers. +The window nearest me was a favourite of ours. +It was dedicated, so saith the bronze tablet beneath, +to the memory of Cosmo John, fifth son +of an Earl of Aberfalden. He had died at the +age of fifteen, not a tender age to me, but the age +toward which I was eagerly straining, the vigourous, +untrammelled age of the big boy.</p> + +<p>I stared at the young knight in the red cloak +who, to me, represented Cosmo John, and thought +it a great pity that he should have gone off in +such a hurry, just when life was opening up such +happy vistas before him, vistas no longer patrolled +by governesses and maid servants, nor +hedged in by petty restrictions. Cosmo John had +died one hundred years ago, in May—and, by the +Rood! this was May! Had he ever been +a-fishing. Had the sudden tremor of the rod +made his young heart to leap? I heard the +Bishop's rich voice roll on:</p> + +<p>"—Most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy +favour to behold our most gracious Sovereign +Lady, Queen Victoria; and so replenish her with +the grace of Thy Holy Spirit that she may alway +incline to Thy will"—the Bishop's voice became +one with the murmur of the river, as it moved +among the ridges; the mellow sunlight scarcely +touched this sheltered pool, but one could see it +in its full strength on the meadow beyond, where +larks were nesting. I brought myself up with a +start. The Bishop's voice came from a great distance—"beseech +Thee to bless Albert Edward +Prince of Wales"—Angel was joggling me with +his elbow.</p> + +<p>"You duffer," he whispered, "you've been nodding. +Get your hymn book."</p> + +<p>In the choir vestry the Bishop stopped for a +moment beside us, his surplice billowing about him +like the sails about a tall mast when the wind dies. +"At seven," he said, "tomorrow morning at my +house. And <i>wear old clothes</i>."</p> + +<p>The sails were filled, and he moved majestically +away, towering above the small craft around him.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>It was morning. It was ten o'clock. It was +May. We were all stowed away in the Bishop's +trap with his son, Harry, controlling the fat pony, +whose small fore-hoof pawed impatiently on the +asphalt. Angel and I had donned old jerseys and +The Seraph a clean holland pinafore, against +which he pressed an empty treacle tin where a +solitary worm reared an anxious head against the +encircling gloom.</p> + +<p>"I've got a worm," he gasped, gleefully, as the +pony, released at last, jerked us almost off our +seats. "He's nice an' fat, an' he's quite clean, +for I've washed him fwee times. He's as tame +as anyfing. He's wather a dear ole worm, an' it +seems a shame to wun a hook frew him."</p> + +<p>"Child, it shall not be done," consoled the +Bishop. "Keep your worm, and, when we get to +the river-bank, we'll introduce him to the country +worms, and maybe he'll like them so well he'll +marry and settle down there for the rest of his +days."</p> + +<p>"If he could see a lady-worm he'd like," stipulated +The Seraph.</p> + +<p>"He'd have a wide choice," said the Bishop. +"The country is full of worms, some of them +charming, I daresay."</p> + +<p>"And, I say," chuckled Angel, "you could perform +the ceremony—if only we knew their +names."</p> + +<p>"This is Charles Augustus," said The Seraph +with dignity.</p> + +<p>"She'd likely be Ernestine," I put in.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Bishop. "It should proceed +thus: 'I, Charles Augustus, take thee, +Ernestine, to have and to hold'—and I do wish, +Harry, that you'd have a care and hold Merrylegs +in. He's almost taking our breath away. +Such a speed is undignified, and bad for the digestion."</p> + +<p>It was true that the fat pony was in amazing +spirits that morning. Shops and houses were +passed with exhilarating speed. To us little +fellows, who always walked with our governess, +when we went abroad, it was intoxicating.</p> + +<p>Soon the town was left behind and we were +bowling along a country road past a field where +boys were flying a kite, its long tail making sinuous +curves against the turquoise sky. The air was +sweet with the fresh May showers; and the swift +roll of wheels was an inspiring accompaniment to +our chatter.</p> + +<p>Further along lay a tranquil pond in a common, +its surface stirred by a tiny boat with white sails. +An old, white-bearded man in a smock frock was +teaching his grandsons to sail the boat. It must +be jolly, we thought, to have a nice old grandfather +to play with one.</p> + +<p>At last we passed a vine-embowered inn, set +among apple trees in bloom. It was "The Sleepy +Angler" and the Bishop said that the river curved +just beyond it.</p> + +<p>We gave a shout of joy as we caught the glint +of it; a shout that might well have been a warning +to any lurking trout. Angel and I scarcely waited +for the pony to draw up beneath the trees before +we tumbled out of the trap; and the Bishop, +grasping the eager Seraph by the wrist, swung him +to the ground after us.</p> + +<p>We felt very small and light, and almost fairy-like, +as we ran here and thither over the lush +grass, studded with spring flowers. Our sensitive +nostrils were greeted by enticing new odors that +seemed to be pressed from the springy sod of our +scampering feet. The Seraph still clutched the +treacle tin, and Charles Augustus must have had +a bad quarter hour of it.</p> + +<p>The stream, which was a sharp, clear one, sped +through flowery meadows, where geese were grazing +as soberly as cows. An old orchard enfolded +it, at last, scattering pink petals on its flowing +cloud-flecked surface, and drawing new life from +its freshness.</p> + +<p>Harry made the pony comfortable and lit his +pipe, and the Bishop got ready his tackle, while +the three of us clustered about him, filled with +wonder and delight to see the book of many +coloured flies, and all the intricacies of preparing +the rod and bait. Angel and I were equipped +with proper rods baited with greenish May-flies, +and The Seraph got a willow wand and line at +the end of which dangled an active grasshopper.</p> + +<p>"You know," said the Bishop, when we had +cast our flies, "if I were a whole-hearted angler, +I should not have brought three such restless +spirits on this expedition but truly I am—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>'No fisher,</p> +<p>But a well-wisher</p> +<p>To the game!'</p> +</div></div> + +<p>So, now that you are here, suppose I give you a +lesson in manipulating your tackling. If you proceed +as you have begun, there will very soon not +be so much as a minnow within a mile of us. +Easy now, Angel; just move your fly gently on top +of the water so that his bright wings may attract +the eye of the most wanton trout. Easy, John—by +the lord, I've caught a Greyling! And come +and sniff him, and you'll find he smells of water-thyme."</p> + +<p>How aptly we took to this sort of teaching, +given in the fresh outdoors, the air pleasant with +honeysuckle, and a lark carolling high above us! +We could scarcely restrain our shouts when +Angel's first trout was landed with the aid of a +net, and lay golden and white as a daffodil on the +grass. So absorbed were we that no one gave +any heed to The Seraph, stationed farther down +stream, till a roar of rage discovered him, dancing +empty-handed on the bank, his rod sailing smartly +down the stream, leaving only a wake of tiny +ripples.</p> + +<p>"It was a 'normous lusty trout," he wailed, "as +big as a whale, an' he swallowed my grasshopper, +an' hook, an' gave me <i>such</i> a look! And I'd +pwomised him to Mary Ellen for her tea!"</p> + +<p>"We may as well give up for a while," said +the Bishop, mildly, "and have some lunch. Bring +The Seraph to me, boys, and I shall comfort him, +whilst you unpack the hamper."</p> + +<p>What hearty, wholesome appetites we brought +to the cold beef and radishes! And how much +more satisfying such fare than the milky messes +served to us by Mrs. Handsomebody! Harry +had buried a bottle of ale under the cool sod, and +we had tastes of that to wash our victuals down. +Even Charles Augustus had a little of it poured +into his cell to comfort him.</p> + +<p>When we were satisfied, the Bishop retired to +the shade of a hedge with his pipe; The Seraph +wandered off by himself to hunt for birds' nests; +and Angel and I took fresh flies and tried our +luck anew. But the sun was high; the south +breeze was fallen; and the trout had sought their +farthest chambers in the pool.</p> + +<p>Angel soon tired when sport flagged.</p> + +<p>"Let's go find the kid," he said, throwing down +the rod, "he'll be getting himself drowned if we +don't keep an eye on him. I'll race you to that +nearest apple tree!"</p> + +<p>With nimble legs, and swiftly beating hearts, +we scampered over the smooth turf, and I threw +a triumphant look over my shoulder at him, as I +hurled myself upon the mossy bole of the old tree. +Then I saw that Angel had stopped stock still and +was staring open-mouthed beyond me. I turned. +Then, I, too, stared open-mouthed. Trust The +Seraph for falling on his feet! What though his +rod had been filched—here he was, without a +moment's loss, plunged in a new adventure!</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>He was seated beneath an apple tree, on the +bank of the stream in deep conversation with a +most remarkable old man, who was fishing industriously +with the very rod The Seraph so lately +had bewailed. He was an astonishingly old man, +with hair and beard as white as wool, wreathing +a face as pink as the apple-blossoms that fell about +him. Cautiously we drew near, quite unobserved +by the two who seemed utterly absorbed in their +occupation of watching the line as it dipped into +the stream. Now we could see that the old man's +clothes were ragged, and that he had taken off +his boots to ease his tired feet, the toes of which +protruded from his socks, even pinker than his +face.</p> + +<p>He was speaking in a full soft voice with an accent +which was new to us.</p> + +<p>"Yon trout," said he, "was in a terrible frizz +wi' the hook gnawing his vitals, and he swum +about among the reeds near the bank in a manner +to harrer your feelings. The line got tangled in +the growing stuff, and I, so quick as an otter, +pounced on him, and had him on the bank afore +'ee could say 'scat,' and there he lies breathing his +last, and blessing me no doubt for relieving him +in his shameful state."</p> + +<p>"I fink he's weally my twout," said The Seraph. +"I caught him first you see."</p> + +<p>"That pint might take a terr'ble understanding +lawyer to unravel," replied the old man, "but +sooner than quarrel in such an unsporting fashion, +I'll give 'ee the trout, though I had had a notion +of roasting him to my own breakfast."</p> + +<p>The Seraph stroked the glistening side of the +recumbent trout admiringly; he poked his plump +forefinger into it's quivering pink gill. The result +was startling. The trout leaped into the air +with a flourish of silvery tail; then fell floundering +on The Seraph's bare knees. Our junior, seized +with one of his unaccountable impulses, grasped +him by the middle and hurled him into the stream. +A second more and the trout was gone, leaving +only a thin line of red to mark his passing. Angel +and I ran forward to protect The Seraph if need +be from the consequences of his hardy act; but the +old man was smiling placidly.</p> + +<p>"That trout," he said, "is so gleeful to get away +from his captivity as I be to escape from the +work'us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, did you run away from the workhouse?" +we cried, in chorus, gathering around him, +"Have you run far?" And we looked at his +broken boots.</p> + +<p>"I ban't a dareful man," he replied, "that +would run down the road in daylight for the whole +nation to see, and I be terr'ble weak in the legs, +so I just crept out in the night, so quiet as a star-beam, +and sheltered in the orchard yonder, till I +seed the rod fairly put in my hand by the +Almighty, that I mid strike manna out of the +stream, like old Moses, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"You're a funny man," said Angel. "You've +a rum way of talking."</p> + +<p>"I come from Devon by natur," he answered, +"and my tongue still has the twist o't though I +haven't seed the moors these sixty years."</p> + +<p>"You must be pretty old."</p> + +<p>"Old! I be so aged that I can remember my +grandmother when she was but a rosy-cheeked +slip of a gal."</p> + +<p>We stared in awe before such antiquity.</p> + +<p>The Seraph ventured: "Did your grandmother +put you in the work'us?"</p> + +<p>"No, no. Not she. It was my two grandsons. +Well-fixed men they be too, for Philip had a fine +cow until the bailiff took her; and Zachary thinks +naught on a Fair day o' buying meat pasties for +hisself and his missus, and parading about before +the nation wi' the gravy fair running down their +wrists. Ay—but the work'us was good enough +for old Granfa. 'Darn'ee,' says I to Philip, +'there's life in the old dog yet, and I'll escape +from here in the fulness of time!' Which I did."</p> + +<p>We grouped ourselves about him in easy attitudes of attention. We felt strangely drawn to +this ancient rebel against authority. We pictured +the workhouse as a vast schoolroom where white-haired +paupers laboured over impossible tasks, +superintended by a matron, cold and angular, like +Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"Are your own children all dead?" I put the +question timidly, for I feared to recall more filial +ingratitude.</p> + +<p>"Dead as door-nails," he replied, solemnly. +"All of them."</p> + +<p>"Were there many?"</p> + +<p>"When I had been married but seven years, +there were six; and after that I lost count. At +that time I was moved to compose a little song +about them, and I'd sing it to 'ee this moment if +I had a bite o' victuals to stay me."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Seraph," I cried, "You cut back +to the hamper and fetch some beef and bread, +and anything else that's loose. Look sharp, +now."</p> + +<p>The Seraph ran off obediently, and it was not +long till he re-appeared with food and the dregs +of the ale.</p> + +<p>It was a treat to see Granfa make way with +these. He smacked his lips and wiped his beard +on his sleeve with the relish born of prolonged +abstinence. As he ate, the apple-blossoms fell +about him, settling on the rim of his ragged hat, +and even finding shelter among the white waves +of his beard. We sat cross-legged on the grass +before him eagerly awaiting the song.</p> + +<p>At last, in a voice rich with emotion, he sang +to a strange lilting tune:</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"I be in a terr'ble fix,</p> +<p>Wife have I and childer six.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"I'd got married just for fun,</p> +<p>When in popped Baby Number one—</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"I'd got an easy job to do,</p> +<p>When in strolled Baby Number Two—</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"I was fishin' in the sea,</p> +<p>When up swum Baby Number Three—</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"My boat had scarcely touched the shore,</p> +<p>When in clumb Baby Number Four!</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"I was the scaredest man alive,</p> +<p>When wife found Baby Number Five.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"The cradle was all broke to sticks</p> +<p>When in blew Baby Number Six—</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"And now I'm praying hard that Heaven</p> +<p>Will keep a grip on Number Seven."</p> +</div></div> + +<p>"And did Heaven keep a gwip on it?" inquired +The Seraph as soon as the last notes died +away.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," responded our friend. +"They come along so fast that I was all in a mizmaze +trying to keep track on 'em. And good +childer they was, and would never have turned +me out as their sons have had the stinkin' impidence +to do. But now, souls, tell me all about +yourselves, for I be a terr'ble perusin' man and +I like to ponder on the doings of my fellow-creatures. +Did you mention the name of a parson, +over by yon honeysuckle hedge?"</p> + +<p>We thought the old man was excellent; and we +found it an easy thing to make a confidant of him. +So, while he puffed at a stubby clay pipe, we drew +closer and told him all about the Bishop and +about father and how lonely we were for him. +Blue smoke from his clay pipe spun about us, seeming +to bind us lightly in a fine web of friendship. +Through it his blue eyes shone longingly, his +pink face shone with sympathy, and his white +beard with its clinging apple-blossom petals, rose +and fell on his ragged breast.</p> + +<p>"It's a great pity," said Angel, "that father +isn't here now, because I'm certain he'd be jolly +glad to adopt you for a grandfather for us. He's +a most reasonable man."</p> + +<p>Our new friend shook his head doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"It would be a noble calling," he said, "but I +ban't wanted by nobody I'm afeard. I think I'll +just bide here by this pleasant stream, till in the +fulness of time I be food for worms."</p> + +<p>"Could Charles Augustus have a little of you?" +asked The Seraph, sweetly.</p> + +<p>"Ess Fay, he may have his share." It appeared +that the story of Charles had been told +before Angel and I had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Well, you're not going to be deserted," said +Angel, in his lordly way, "we'll just adopt you on +our own. Mrs. Handsomebody won't let us have +a dog, nor a guinea pig, nor rabbits, nor even a +white rat, but, you bet, she's got to let us keep +a grandfather, if we take him right home and +say he's come for a visit, and, of course, father'll +have to pay for his board. Let's do it, eh John?"</p> + +<p>When Angel's eyes sparkled with a conquering +light, few could resist him. Certainly not +I, his faithful adherent. Anyway I wanted +Granfa myself badly, so I nodded solemnly. +"Let's."</p> + +<p>"It'll be the greatest lark ever," he said, "and +here comes the Bishop."</p> + +<p>"Hand me my shoon, quick," said Granfa, nervously.</p> + +<p>The Bishop was indeed coming slowly toward +us, across the sun-lit meadow, carrying his rod +in one hand, and in the other the tin containing +Charles Augustus. By the time he had reached +us Granfa had struggled into his boots and was +standing, hat in hand, with an air of meek expectancy. Angel, always so fluent when we were +by ourselves, balked at explaining things to grown-ups, +and, though the Bishop usually saw things +from our point of view, one could never be absolutely +certain that even he would not prove +obtuse on such a delicate issue as this.</p> + +<p>So I rose, and met his enquiring look with such +explanation as suited his adult understanding.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," I said, politely, "this nice old +man has been turned out by his grandsons, and +he's on his way to town, where he's got some +kind grandsons—"</p> + +<p>—"Fwee of 'em," put in The Seraph.</p> + +<p>—"And we were wondering," I hurried on, "if +you'd give him a lift that far."</p> + +<p>"I expect you're tired out," said the Bishop, +kindly, turning to Granfa.</p> + +<p>"I be none too peart, but terrible wishful to get +under the roof o' my grandsons, thank 'ee."</p> + +<p>"You shall have a seat beside Harry; I see +you've had some lunch; and now, boys, I think +we have time for an hour's fishing before we go, +but first we must dispose of Charles Augustus. +I don't like the way he looks. I don't know +whether he's just foxy and pretending he's dead +so we shan't use him for bait, or whether the ale +was too much for him. At any rate, he's looking +far from well." And the Bishop peered anxiously +into the treacle tin.</p> + +<p>So the search began for the ideal mate for +Charles Augustus. He was laid in state on a +large burdock leaf, where he stretched himself +warily enough in the fervent heat of the sun. +The Seraph, quick as a robin, was the first to +pounce upon a large, but active dew-worm, which, +he announced, was Ernestine.</p> + +<p>We made an excited little group around the +burdock, as The Seraph, flushed with pride, deposited +her beside the lonely Charles. She +glided toward him. She touched him. The +effect was electrical. Charles Augustus, after +one violent contortion, hurled himself from the +burdock, and, before we could intercept him, disappeared +into a bristling forest of grass blades.</p> + +<p>"He's gone! He's gone!" wailed The Seraph. +"He's wun away fwom her!"</p> + +<p>But, even as he spoke, the agile Ernestine +leapt lightly from the trembling leaf in hot pursuit. +Green spears bent to open a way for her; +dizzy gnats paused in their droning song, feeling +in the ether the tremor of the chase; bees fell +from the heart of honey-sweet flowers, and lay +murmuring and booming in the grass.</p> + +<p>They were gone. An ant had mounted the +burdock leaf, and, careless of the drama that had +just been enacted, sought eagerly among the +crevices for provender. The Bishop spoke first.</p> + +<p>"I think she'll get him," he said musingly. +"She's got a sort of cave-woman look, and she +has no petticoats to impede her."</p> + +<p>"Ess fay," assented Granfa, "her'll get him, +and hold him fast too, I'll be bound. A terr'ble +powerful worm."</p> + +<p>We stood in silence for a space, our eyes fixed +on the ground picturing that chase through dim +subterranean passages, smelling of spring showers; +Charles Augustus, wasted, febrile, panting +with agitation; Ernestine, lithe, ardent, awful in +her purpose.</p> + +<p>We were still pensive when we retraced our +steps across the meadow. The Bishop and +Harry and The Seraph resumed their fishing, +but Angel and I preferred to be on the grass beside +Granfa, while he told us tales of old smuggling +days in Devon and Cornwall, where his little cutter +had slipped round about the delicate yet rugged +coast, loaded with brandy and bales of silk +from France, guided by strange red and blue +lights from the shore; and where solemn cormorants +kept darkly secret all they saw when they +sailed aloft at dawn.</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>We were delighted with Granfa. It seemed +to us that the acquiring of him was the finest +thing we had yet done. This elation of +spirit remained with us during all the drive home. +The grey old town was wrapped in a golden mist +of romance; its windows reflected the fire of the +sunset. It was not until we had separated from +the Bishop and stood, a group of four, before +Mrs. Handsomebody's house, that dread misgiving +took the pith out of our legs. All of a sudden +Granfa loomed bulky and solid; the problem of +where he was to be stowed presented itself. He +was not like Giftie to be hidden in the scullery. +He was not even like a white rat that could +be secreted under one's bed till its unfortunate +odour resulted in painful research. No; Granfa +must be accounted for, and that soon.</p> + +<p>"Better go round to the back," suggested +Angel, "and tackle Mary Ellen first."</p> + +<p>So we traversed the chill passage between the +tall houses, and softly lifted the latch of the +kitchen door. Mary Ellen was alone, her work +done, her nose buried in a novel of such fine print +that it necessitated the lamp's being perilously +near the fringe of frowsy hair that covered her +forehead. We were inside the kitchen before she +was recalled from the high life in which she +revelled.</p> + +<p>"Is it yersilves?" she exclaimed, with a start. +"Sure, you've give me a nice fright prowlin' about +like thaves—and whoiver may be the ould man +wid ye? The mistress'll stand no tramps or +beggars about, as well you know."</p> + +<p>"He's no tramp or beggar," I retorted, stoutly, +"he's Granfa."</p> + +<p>"Granfa! Granfa who? Noan o' your nonsense, +now, byes. What's the truth now, spit it +out!"</p> + +<p>"He's Granfa," I reiterated, desperately, "Our +own nice grandfather that we haven't seen for +years, and—he's just come for a nice little visit +with us. Why, Mary Ellen, the Bishop knows +him—"</p> + +<p>"Known him for years," put in Angel. "Went +to Harrow together."</p> + +<p>"Ess fay," assented Granfa, eagerly. "Us +were boon companions up to Harrer."</p> + +<p>"The Bishop brought him wight here in the +pony twap," added The Seraph, "and we'd all yike +a little nushment, please."</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen, in spite of herself, was half convinced. +Granfa's blue eyes were so candid; there +was an air of dignity about his snow-white locks +and beard, that disarmed hostility.</p> + +<p>"Look here, now," said Mary Ellen, in an +aside, to us, "he seems a nice ould gentlemin +enough, but think av the throuble ye got us in over +Giftie, sure I won't have yez experimentalling wid +grandfathers."</p> + +<p>Granfa appeared to have overheard, for he +spoke up.</p> + +<p>"I just want to bide here a little while, my +dearie, till I hear from my son in South Americer. +The other two put me out, you see, so I've only +him to depend on, till I be called away."</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen flushed. "You'd be welcome to +stay if it was my house, sir; but my misthress is +to be reckoned wid. By God's mercy, she is off +to a missionary meeting tonight, her bein' president +av the society for makin' Unitarians out av +the blacks. Sorra a thing will she hear of this +till mornin', and I'll put you in my own bed, and +slape on two cheers in the scullery, for it'd niver +do for the boys' grandfather to be used like a +beggar-man."</p> + +<p>We thought it a capital idea for Mary Ellen to +sleep in the scullery—it would save her the fag of +running downstairs in the morning to get breakfast, +and Granfa would be conveniently placed for +us, in case we wanted a story or game before +breakfast.</p> + +<p>So, after partaking of a little nourishment, as +The Seraph put it, we retired to Mary Ellen's +room; she leading the way up the dark backstairs +with a lighted candle; Granfa next bearing his +little bundle; and we three in the rear, exceedingly +tired, but in excellent spirits.</p> + +<p>Granfa looked very snug in Mary Ellen's bed, +with his curly beard resting comfortably on the +red and white quilt, and his blue eyes twinkling +up at us.</p> + +<p>"Comfy, Granfa?" asked The Seraph.</p> + +<p>"I be just so cozy as an old toad," he replied. +"I do believe I'm a-going to be terr'ble happy in +my new home."</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen had gone downstairs to prepare her +place in the scullery, so we climbed on the bed +with him, making believe it was a smuggler's cutter, +and had many hair-raising adventures that +were brought to an end, at last, by the discovery +that Granfa was fast asleep.</p> + +<p>We were at the windlass heaving up the anchor, +at the time, and had just struck up a sailor's +chanty, which made a good deal of noise, but +nothing seemed to disturb Granfa. He slumbered +peacefuly through all the rattle of chains, +and shouting of commands, so, somewhat subdued, +we decided there was nothing for it but to seek +our berths.</p> + +<p>Snug beneath our covers, at last, we felt to the +full, the new spirit of adventure that had spread +its irridescent wings over the house. There was +Granfa, snoring under Mary Ellen's patchwork +quilt; there was the trusty Mary Ellen, herself, +stowed away in the scullery; there was Mrs. +Handsomebody, on missionary duty among the +blacks; here were we—The Seraph expressed our +feelings exactly just before we fell asleep. +"We'm terr'ble lucky chaps," he said, in the +Devon dialect, "ban't us?"</p> + + +<h4>V</h4> + +<p>Our bedroom window was always tightly +closed, and, at night, so were the shutters; yet +a sunbeam, adventurous, like ourselves, found its +way through a broken slat, and, cleaving the +heavy air of the chamber, flew straight to The +Seraph's nose, where it perched, lending a radiant +prominence to that soft feature.</p> + +<p>The Seraph roused himself. He opened his +eyes; the sunbeam found them two dark forest +pools, and plunged therein. The Seraph opened +his mouth and laughed, showing all his little white +teeth, and the sunbeam dived straightway down +his throat.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" cried The Seraph, "let's get up!" +And scrambled out of bed.</p> + +<p>At the same instant came a loud tapping on the +door of Mary Ellen's bedroom. We surmised, +correctly, that Mrs. Handsomebody, listening in +vain for the sound of her handmaiden's descent +of the back stairs had risen wrathfully, and +come to summon her in person. A chill of apprehension +ran along my spine. I got up and +stole to the door, followed by my brothers. +Through a crack we peered fearfully in the +direction of the rapping, our trembling bodies +close together.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody, in purple dressing-gown +and red woollen slippers, stood in a listening +attitude, her gaze bent on the door that hid +Granfa.</p> + +<p>"Are you aware of the hour?" she demanded +peremptorily. "Rise at once and open this +door."</p> + +<p>There was a creaking of the mattress and +sound of shuffling feet; the door was opened reluctantly, +and Granfa, bare-legged, white of +beard and red-shirted, stood in the aperture.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody did not shriek; rather +she made the inarticulate noises of one in a nightmare +and put out her hands as if to keep Granfa +off. "Merciful Heaven!" she whispered. +"What has happened to you?"</p> + +<p>"I do feel far from peart," replied Granfa.</p> + +<p>"This is horrible. Did you feel it coming on?"</p> + +<p>"Off and on for a long time," said Granfa. +"It's been a terr'ble experience, and I ban't likely +to be ever the same again, I'm afeared."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody looked ready to faint.</p> + +<p>At that moment, Mary Ellen, having heard +the voice of her mistress, projected her face +above the doorsill of the backstairs. It was always +a rosy face, but now with excitement and +shamefacedness, it was as red as a harvest moon, +coming up from the darkness.</p> + +<p>The sight of her turned Mrs. Handsomebody's +terror into rage.</p> + +<p>"Shameful, depraved girl," she gobbled, "who +is this you have in your chamber? Ah, I've +caught you! The ingratitude! You terrible +old wretch!"—this to Granfa—"close that door +instantly while I send for the police!"</p> + +<p>By this time we had ventured into the hall, +and, Mrs. Handsomebody, seeing us groaned: +"Under the roof with these innocent children—I +thought that in my care their innocence was +safe."</p> + +<p>"It was thim same innocents that brung him +here," said Mary Ellen, stung into disclosing our +part in the scandal, "and it's himsilf is their own +grandfather."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody's gaze was appalling as +she turned it on us three.</p> + +<p>"You? Your grandfather? What fresh insanity +is this?"</p> + +<p>"You see," I explained, keeping my fascinated +eyes on the wart on her chin, "he's just +come for a little visit, and he really is our Granfa, +and we love him awfully."</p> + +<p>"Won't have him abused," spluttered The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Be rights," added Mary Ellen, solemnly, "he +should have the best spare room, the byes' own +aged relation."</p> + +<p>"I shall sift this affair," said Mrs. Handsomebody, +"to its most appalling dregs. You, Alexander"—to The Seraph—"are the smallest, look +through that keyhole and inform me what he is +doing."</p> + +<p>The Seraph obeyed, chuckling. "He's took to +the bed again—all exceptin' one leg—"</p> + +<p>"We can dispense with detail," cut in our +governess. "Is he at all violent?"</p> + +<p>"Bless you, no," replied Mary Ellen. "He's +as mild mannered as can be and an old friend +of the Bishop's, so they say. 'Twas him that +brung him home in his pony trap."</p> + +<p>"The Bishop! I must see the Bishop instantly."</p> + +<p>As she spoke a stentorian shout of "Butcher!" +came from the regions below.</p> + +<p>"There," she said, to Mary Ellen, "is young +Watlin. Call him up instantly; and he shall +guard the door while I dress. Explain the situation +very briefly to him. It would be well to +arm him with a poker, in case the old man becomes +violent. David, go to Bishop Torrance +and tell him that I hope he will call on me at +once, if possible. Put on your clothes, but you +may leave your hair in disorder, just as it is. It +will serve to show the Bishop into what a state of +panic this household has been thrown."</p> + +<p>She was obliged to retire hastily to her room +because of the arrival of Mr. Watlin.</p> + +<p>It was some time before Mary Ellen, and The +Seraph, and I could make him understand what +had happened, though we all tried at once.</p> + +<p>"And you mean to tell me that he's in there?" +he asked, at last, grinning broadly.</p> + +<p>"Sorra a place else," replied Mary Ellen, "and +you're to guard the door till the police comes."</p> + +<p>"Guard nothink," said Mr. Watlin, belligerently, +"I'll go right in and tackle him single-handed."</p> + +<p>With one accord The Seraph and I flung ourselves +before the door.</p> + +<p>"You shan't hurt him," we cried, "he's our +own Granfa! We'll fight you first."</p> + +<p>Mr. Watlin made some playful passes at our +stomachs. "Let's all have a fight," he chaffed. +Then he said—"Hullo, here's the old 'un himself, +and quite a character to be sure. No wonder +Mrs. 'Andsomebody is in a taking."</p> + +<p>The door had opened behind us; Granfa stood +revealed, wearing his ragged coat and hat, and +carrying his stick and little bundle, wrapped in a +red handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Don't 'ee get in a frizz, my dears, about me," +he said with dignity. "I be leaving this instant +moment. As for you—" addressing Mr. Watlin—"you +be a gert beefy critter, but don't be +too sure you could tackle me, single-handed. I +be terr'ble full of power when I'm roused, and +it takes a deal to calm me down again." And +he trotted to the head of the stairs and began to +descend.</p> + +<p>The Seraph and I kept close on either side of +him, tightly holding his hands.</p> + +<p>"She's in the parlour," I whispered, "and the +Bishop's with her. Shall you go in?"</p> + +<p>Granfa nodded solemnly.</p> + +<p>We stood in the doorway of the sacred apartment. +Even there, the spirit of the May morning +seemed to have penetrated, for in the glass +case a stuffed oriole had cocked his eye with a +longing look at a withered nest that hung before +him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody had just finished her recital. +"I thought I should have swooned," she +said.</p> + +<p>"And no wonder," replied the Bishop, "I'm +quite sure I should have." Then he turned to us +with a look of mingled amusement and concern. +"Now what do you suppose I'm going to do with +you Granfa?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, parson, don't 'ee send me back to the +work'us! If I bide there any longer, 'twill break +my fine spirit."</p> + +<p>"I am going to propose something very different," +said the Bishop, kindly. "We need another +sweeper and duster about the Cathedral, +and if you think you are strong enough to wield +a broom, you may earn a decent living. I know +a very kind charwoman, who would lodge and +board you, and you would be near your little—"</p> + +<p>"Gwandsons," said The Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Silence!" ordered Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"You would be near us all," finished the Bishop, +blandly.</p> + +<p>"Ess fay. I can wield a broom," said Granfa. +"And 'twill be a noble end for me to pass my +days in such a holy spot. 'Twill be but a short +jump from there fair into Heaven itself, and I +do thank 'ee, parson, with all my heart."</p> + +<p>So it was settled, and turned out excellently. +Even Mary Ellen could have learned from Granfa +new ways of handling a broom with the least exertion +to the worker; aye, in his hands, the broom +seemed used chiefly as a support; a staff, upon +which he leant while telling us many a tale of +those rare old smuggling days of his youth.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, in dim unused parts of the building, +we would rig up a pirate's ship, and Granfa +would fix the broom to the masthead to show +that he, like Drake, had swept the seas.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, indeed, we found him fast asleep +in a corner of some crimson-cushioned pew, looking +so peaceful that, rough sea-going fellows +though we were, we had not the heart to rouse +him.</p> + +<p>Once, standing before the stained glass window +in memory of young Cosmo John, Granfa said:</p> + +<p>"It beats all how thiccy lad does yearn toward +me. His eyes follow me wherever I go."</p> + +<p>"And no wonder, Granfa," cried The Seraph, +throwing his arms around him, "for everybody +loves 'ee so!"</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch8">Chapter VIII: Noblesse +Oblige</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Angel and I grew amazingly that summer. +We grew in length of limb but with no corresponding +gain in scholastic stature. We had +made up our minds to retain as little as possible +of Mrs. Handsomebody's teaching and we had +succeeded so well in our purpose, that, at nine +and ten we had about as much book-learning as +would have befitted The Seraph, while he retained +the serene ignorance of babyhood. But +in affairs of the imagination we were no laggards. +We eagerly drank in Granfa's tales of the sea, +and Harry lent us many a hair-raising book of +adventure.</p> + +<p>Yet we longed for the companionship of other +boys of our own age, and strained towards the +day when we should go to school. Our abounding +energy chafed more and more under the rule +of Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>Now she had left the schoolroom to interview +a plumber, and her black bombazine dress +having sailed away like a cloud, we had utterly +relaxed, and were basking in the sunshine of her +absence.</p> + +<p>Slumped on my spine, I was watching a spider, +just over my head, that was leisurely ascending +his shining rope-ladder to the ceiling. I contemplated +his powers of retreat with an almost +bitter envy. Fancy being able, at a moment's +notice, to bolt out of reach (even out of sight +and hearing) of all that was obnoxious to a +fellow! I pictured myself, when some particularly +harassing question had been put by my +governess, springing from my seat, snatching the +ever-ready shining rope and making for some +friendly cornice, where, with my six or eight legs +wrapped round my head, I would settle down for +a snug sleep, not to be disturbed by any female.</p> + +<p>Yet, I had to admit, that if any one in the +schoolroom played the rôle of spider, it was +Mrs. Handsomebody herself, whose desk was the +centre of a web of books, pencils, rulers and a +cane, in the meshes of which we three were caught +like young flies, before our bright wings had been +unfolded.</p> + +<p>I looked at The Seraph. After slavishly making +pot hooks all the afternoon, he was now licking +them off his slate with unaffected relish. I +turned to Angel.</p> + +<p>With hands thrust deep in his pockets he was +staring disconsolately at the unfinished sum before +him. I, too, had given it up in despair.</p> + +<p>"It's mediocre," he muttered. "Absolutely +mediocre, and I won't stand it."</p> + +<p><i>Mediocre.</i> It was a new word to me, and I +wondered where he had picked it up. It was +like Angel to spring it on me this way.</p> + +<p>"Awfully mediocre," I assented. "And it +can't be done."</p> + +<p>A flicker of annoyance crossed his face that +his new word should be thus lightly bandied, but +he went on—"Just listen here: an apple-woman +who had four score of apples in her cart, sold +three dozen at four pence, half-penny a dozen; +two and a half dozen at five pence a dozen. At +what price would she have to sell the remaining, +in order to realize"—</p> + +<p>"And look here," I interrupted, wrathfully, +"Why does she always give us sums about an +apple-woman, or a muffin-man? It just makes +a chap hungry. Why doesn't she make one up +about a dentist for a change, or somethin' like +that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," assented Angel, catching at the idea. +"Like this: if a dentist pulled five teeth out of one +lady, and seven and a half out of another, at +two shillings apiece how many must he pull in +order to—"</p> + +<p>"Then there's undertakers," I broke in. "If +a undertaker buried nine corpses one day, and +six and a half the next—"</p> + +<p>I had to stop, for Angel was convulsed with +laughter, and The Seraph was beginning to get +noisy.</p> + +<p>Angel produced a small bottle of licorice water +from his pocket and took a long mouthful. Then +he handed it to me. It was soothing, delicious.</p> + +<p>"Me too!" cried The Seraph, and I held it to +his eager little mouth.</p> + +<p>"Here," said Angel angrily, "he's swiggin' +down the whole thing. Drop it, young'un!"</p> + +<p>At the same moment, the door opened quietly, +and Mrs. Handsomebody entered. I tore the bottle +from The Seraph's clinging lips, and stuffed +it, corkless, into my pocket.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody sat down and disposed +her skirt about her knees. Her eyes travelled +over us.</p> + +<p>"Alexander," she said to The Seraph, "stand +up." He meekly rose.</p> + +<p>"What is that on your chin?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph explored his chin with his tongue.</p> + +<p>"It tastes sweet," he said.</p> + +<p>"I asked what is it?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph shot an imploring glance at Angel.</p> + +<p>"I fink," he hedged, "it's some of the gwavy +fwom dinner left over."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody turned to Angel and me.</p> + +<p>"Stand up," she commanded, sternly, "and we +shall sift this matter to the root."</p> + +<p>"Yes," admitted Angel, nonchalantly. "It +was licorice root made into a drink."</p> + +<p>"Licorice root," repeated our governess, in a +tone of disgust. "It is by imbibing such vile +concoctions that the taste for more ardent spirits +is created. When I was your age, I had taken +no beverage save milk and hot water, from which +I graduated naturally to weak tea, and from +thence to the—er—stronger brew. I am at present +your guardian as well as your teacher and I +shall do my utmost to eradicate—"</p> + +<p>It was impossible to follow her discourse because +of the keen discomfort I was feeling as the +remainder of the licorice water trickled down my +right leg. I was brought up with a start by Mrs. +Handsomebody almost shouting:</p> + +<p>"John! What is that puddle on the floor beneath +you? Don't move! Stay where you +are." She sprang to my side and grasped my +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose it's some more of the woot," giggled +The Seraph.</p> + +<p>I put my hand in my pocket and produced the +empty bottle. Mrs. Handsomebody took it between +her thumb and forefinger. She gave me +a sharp rap on the head with it.</p> + +<p>"Now," she gobbled, "go to your room and +remain there till the exercises are over, then return +to me for punishment. <i>And</i> change your +trousers."</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>My trousers had been changed. Afternoon +school was over, and I had just finished the last +weary line in the long imposition set by Mrs. +Handsomebody. I stretched my cramped limbs, +and wondered dully where my brothers were. +My depression was increased by the fact that the +freshly-donned trousers were brown tweed, while +my jacket was of blue serge.</p> + +<p>I laid the imposition on Mrs. Handsomebody's +desk, and listlessly set out to find the others. I +could hear Mary Ellen in the kitchen thumping +a mop against the legs of the furniture in a savage +manner that bespoke no mood of airy persiflage. +Therefore, I did not go down the back stairs, +but throwing a leg over the hand-rail of the +front stairs, I slowly slid to the bottom, and +rested there a space on my stomach, an attitude +peaceful, and conducive to clear thinking.</p> + +<p>I reviewed the situation dispassionately. Here +was I, who had scarcely been at all to blame, +humiliated, an outcast, so to speak, while Angel, +who had made the beastly mess, went unscathed. +As for The Seraph! I could scarcely bear to +think of him with his tell-tale sticky little chin.</p> + +<p>Voices roused me. Buoyant with animation, +they penetrated beyond the closed front door. A +loud unknown voice, mingled with those of Angel +and The Seraph.</p> + +<p>In an instant, I was on my feet, my nose pressed +against one of the narrow windows of ruby-coloured +glass that were on either side of the hall +door. I could see three small red figures in animated +conversation on the square grass plot +before the house. The largest of the three began +to execute a masterly hop, skip and jump on +the crimson grass. Above arched the sanguine +sky.</p> + +<p>I opened the door and closing it softly behind +me, stood on the steps.</p> + +<p>The newcomer was a sturdy fellow about a year +older than Angel. He had a devil-may-care air +about him, and he wore, at a rakish angle, a cap, +bearing the badge of a well-known school. He +turned to me instantly.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "you're a rum-lookin' pup."</p> + +<p>I was rather abashed at such a greeting, but +I held my ground. "My name is John," I replied +simply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord!" he groaned. "<i>John!</i> Don't +you know enough to give your surname? Eh? +I wish we had you at my school for a term. +We'd lick you into shape."</p> + +<p>"His surname is Curzon, too," put in Angel, +"same as mine."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said the boy, "you're Curzon +major, Curzon minor, and Curzon minimus. +Hear that, Curzon minimus?" he shouted, tweaking +The Seraph's ear.</p> + +<p>"I say," said Angel, "you let him alone!" +And I ran down the steps. The boy stared.</p> + +<p>"Don't you keep him in order?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Rather," replied Angel, "but I don't hurt him +for nothing."</p> + +<p>"I have two young brothers," said the boy, +"and I hurt them for next to nothing. Licks +'em into shape."</p> + +<p>He looked around him and then added, +"There's no fun here. Let's hook it to my place, +and I'll show you my rabbits. I've taken a +fancy to you, and, if you like, I'll let you call me +by my first name. It's Simon. And I'll call you +by yours. That minor and minimus business is +rather rotten when you're friends. Come along."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody, we knew, was safe at a +lecture on The Application of Science to Human +Relationships; Mary Ellen was doing her Friday's +cleaning; therefore, we set off with our +new-found friend without fear of hindrance from +the female section of our household.</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>As we trotted along, Simon told us that his +family had taken a large old house that had stood +vacant ever since we had come to live with Mrs. +Handsomebody. How often we had timidly +passed its dingy front, wondering what might be +within its closed shutters and deep-set front door!</p> + +<p>Now, as we approached, we saw that the sign, +To Let, had been taken down; the door and shutters +were wide open; and, one of the shutters, +hanging at a rakish angle, much as Simon wore +his cap, gave a promise of jollity and lack of +restraint within.</p> + +<p>"We shall just cut around to the back garden," +announced Simon. "The kids are there, and +need putting in order by the row they are making."</p> + +<p>We passed through a low door in the wall that +separated the front garden from the back. The +wall was overgrown with dusty untrimmed +creepers, from which a flock of sparrows flew +when the door was opened.</p> + +<p>For a moment, we could scarcely take in the +scene before us; in our experience it was so unprecedented. +But Simon did not seem in the +least surprised.</p> + +<p>"Hi, kids!" he yelled, "just keep that water +off us, will you! Put down that hose, Mops!"</p> + +<p>Mops was a girl a little younger than Simon. +She stood in the middle of the garden, a hose in +her hands, and she was absorbed in drenching two +half-naked small boys and five fox terriers, who +circled around her like performers in a circus +ring. The noise of yelling boys and barking dogs +was terrific.</p> + +<p>"What's she doing?" we gasped.</p> + +<p>"It's so dev'lish hot that the hose feels bully. +Like to try it?"</p> + +<p>"I wish we had got our bathing suits," said +Angel.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I think there's a couple of +pairs of trunks in the scullery, and the young +'un can have a pinafore of Mopsie's."</p> + +<p>He led the way down some littered steps into a +basement room, where a dishevelled maid was +blacking boots.</p> + +<p>"Here Playter," he ordered, "dig up some togs +for a hosing, will you? And be sharp about it, +there's a love."</p> + +<p>The girl obligingly dropped her boots, and +turning out the contents of a cupboard, produced +some faded blue bathing trunks.</p> + +<p>To us they seemed shamelessly inadequate, but +Simon appeared satisfied. Now he hurried us to +a summer-house occupied by a family of lop-eared +rabbits, and here we changed into the trunks. +The Seraph required some help, and when he was +stripped, I could see his little heart pounding +away at his ribs, for, between the exertion of +keeping up to us, and not quite understanding why +he was being undressed, he was very much +wrought up.</p> + +<p>"It's just fun," I reassured him. "Don't get +funky."</p> + +<p>"I'm not," he whispered, as I tied on his trunks, +"but I fink it's a dangerous enterpwise."</p> + +<p>"Time's up," yelled Simon, "get into the +game!"</p> + +<p>We leaped from the summer-house to the +grass, and, refreshing it was to our bare soles. +The first onslaught from the hose almost knocked +my legs from under me, and, indeed, throughout +the game, Mops seemed to single me out for +special attention. We three had never in our +lives given way to such an abandon of wildness. +The Seraph yelled till he was hoarse, and, when +at last Mops surrendered the hose to Simon, the +orgy grew wilder still.</p> + +<p>In the midst of it, a French window at the back +of the house opened, and a lady stood on the +threshold.</p> + +<p>My senses had received only a delicate impression +of pink satin, golden hair, and flashing rings, +when Simon turned the hose, in full force, on the +step just below her, sending a shower of drops all +about her. With a scream she fled indoors, +slamming the French window.</p> + +<p>"You got her that time, all right," said Mops, +grinning roguishly.</p> + +<p>"Who is she?" I gasped.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just mummy," replied Simon, nonchalantly.</p> + +<p>The French window opened again. This time +a young man in grey tweeds appeared. I quite +expected to see him greeted with a shower also, +but Simon respectfully lowered the hose.</p> + +<p>"Did you turn that hose on your mother, +Simon?" asked the young man sternly.</p> + +<p>"Just a little," answered Simon.</p> + +<p>"Well, the next time you do it you'll get your +jacket dusted, do you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father."</p> + +<p>The young man disappeared into the house, +three of the wet dogs following him.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Lord Simon sweet?" asked Mops, with +another roguish smile at me.</p> + +<p>"Awfully," I replied politely, "but is the lady +really your mother?"</p> + +<p>"Let's feed," interrupted Simon, throwing +down the hose, "I've a rare old twist on."</p> + +<p>I was sorry he had interrupted us, for I yearned +towards Mops, and I felt that further conversation +with me would be acceptable to her, but we +were swept away in the stampede for food to the +basement kitchens.</p> + +<p>They seemed immense to me, and full of the +jolliest servants I had ever seen. Two men-servants +in livery were playing a game of cribbage +at one end of a long littered table, while several +laughing maid-servants hung over their shoulders. +The game was suspended at our entrance, and +they all turned to ask us questions and chaff us +about our appearance. One of the fox terriers +jumped on the table and began nosing among the +saucepans. Nobody stopped him. The fat, +good-natured cook busied herself in spreading +bread and butter with Sultana raisins for us; the +maid-servants made a great fuss over The Seraph.</p> + +<p>In such a whirlwind did this family live that +just as I was beginning to feel at ease in this extraordinary +kitchen, I was rushed back to the garden +to play, a somewhat solid feeling in my +stomach telling me that the bread and Sultanas +had arrived.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah for stilts," screamed Mops.</p> + +<p>"Just the thing," assented Simon. "Here +young Bunny and Bill, fetch the stilts, and be +sharp about it—hear?" and he gave them each a +punch in the ribs.</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, Bunny and Bill scampered +across the grass, the fox-terriers yelping at their +heels, and, from a convenient out-house all sizes +of stilts were produced.</p> + +<p>These accomplished children could do all manner +of amazing feats on the stilts; even little Bill +laughed at our awkward attempts. But, after +many falls, Angel and I could limp haltingly +about the garden, and experienced the new joy of +looking down at things instead of up.</p> + +<p>We noticed presently that Simon was propped +against the high wall that divided this garden +from the next. In a moment he called to us:</p> + +<p>"Toddle over here and see what the old girls +are doing."</p> + +<p>"Who does he mean?" I asked Mops, as we +moved stiffly, side by side.</p> + +<p>"It's the Unaquarium parson's garden," she +said. "I expect they're having a tea-fight. +They're always up to something fishy."</p> + +<p>Something ominous in the words should have +warned me, but I was too elated to be heedful of +signs or portents. I clutched the wall, and, with +a grin of amusement, gazed down at the group of +ladies, who, with two gentlemen in black, were +drinking tea on the lawn.</p> + +<p>Bunny threw a green pear at the thin legs of the +taller gentleman.</p> + +<p>The gentleman shied in a most spirited fashion, +slopping his tea.</p> + +<p>Everybody turned to look in our direction.</p> + +<p>"Duck," hissed Mops.</p> + +<p>But it was too late to duck. Several ladies +were already sweeping towards us.</p> + +<p>Then my soul fainted within me, for the voice +of the being who ruled our little universe spoke +as from a dark cloud.</p> + +<p>"David! John! Alexander!" gobbled the Voice, +"are you gone mad? Come here instantly—but +no—you appear to be nude—answer me—are you +nude?"</p> + +<p>Mops answered for us; we were too afflicted +for speech.</p> + +<p>"If you mean naket, we're not," she said, "but +the dressed-up part of us is on this side."</p> + +<p>I was conscious of murmuring voices: What +a terrible little girl; indeed the whole family; as +for the mother—Yes—my pupils, and, for the +present, my wards—Once they even threw a +dead rat over!</p> + +<p>Then up spoke Mrs. Handsomebody. "Put +on your clothes," she ordered, "and meet me at +the corner. I shall be waiting."</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>We had put on our clothes. We had met her +but, good Heaven! what a Rendezvous! She, +and Angel, and I were pallid with suppressed emotions, +while The Seraph's face was flushed crimson. +He was weeping loudly, as he followed in +our wake, and walking with some difficulty, since +Angel and I, in our agitation, had put his trousers +on back to front.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody placed us in a row, on +three chairs in the dining-room, and seated herself +opposite to us. After removing her bonnet, +and giving it to Mary Ellen to carry upstairs to +the wardrobe, she said:</p> + +<p>"If I believed that you realized the enormity +of what you have done, I should write to South +America to your father, and tell him that I would +no longer undertake the responsibility of three +boys so evilly inclined. What do you suppose my +sensations were when, at the close of the lecture, +the other ladies, the professor, our pastor, and +myself adjourned to the garden for tea, to find +you three perched, almost nude, on a wall, in such +company?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know that those people are not respectable? +The man, I am told, is a rake, who attends +cockfights, and the mother of those children +has been seen in the garden—<i>tight</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Was that the lady in pink satin?" asked +Angel, showing interest for the first time.</p> + +<p>"I daresay. One would expect to find her in +pink satin."</p> + +<p>The lecture went on, but I did not hear it; my +mind dwelt insistently on thoughts of the lady in +pink.</p> + +<p>"What did she do, please?" I interrupted, +thoughtlessly, at last.</p> + +<p>"Who do?"</p> + +<p>"The lady. When she was tight."</p> + +<p>"So that is where your thoughts were," said +Mrs. Handsomebody, angrily, "nice speculations +indeed, for a little boy!"</p> + +<p>"I should yike a little nushment, please," interrupted +The Seraph in his turn.</p> + +<p>"Not nourishment, but punishment is what you +will get, young man," replied our governess, +tartly. "What you three need is discipline at +the hands of a strong man. We shall now go +upstairs."</p> + + +<h4>V</h4> + +<p>It was over. The gas was out, and we were +in bed. Not snugly in bed, but smartingly; each +trying to find a cool place on the sheets, and +things very much bedewed by the tears of The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Angel, rather huskily. "It +was worth it, I'd do it again like a shot."</p> + +<p>"So would I," I assented. "Whatever do you +s'pose they're up to now!"</p> + +<p>And, indeed, the thought of this spirited +family coloured all my dreams. As in dancing +rainbows they whirled about my bed: Mops with +the hose; Bunny and Bill twinkling on stilts; +Simon with all the dogs at his heels; and above +all, the lady in pink, presiding like a golden-haired goddess, and very "tight."</p> + +<p>We were still in black disgrace at breakfast. +Scarcely dared we raise our eyes to the cold face +of Mrs. Handsomebody, lest she should read in +them some yearning recollection of yesterday's +misdeeds. Large spoonfuls of porridge and thin +milk made unwonted gurgling noises as they hurried +down our throats to our empty young +stomachs.</p> + +<p>When we had done, and The Seraph had offered +thanks to God for this good meal, Mrs. +Handsomebody marched us, like conscripts to +the schoolroom, where she assigned to each of us +a task to keep him busy until her return from +market.</p> + +<p>But the front door had barely closed upon her +black bombazine dress, when we scampered to the +head of the stairs, threw ourselves upon the +hand-rail, and slid lightly to the bottom, and +from there ran to find Mary Ellen in the parlour.</p> + +<p>She was sweeping out the sombre room +with such listless movements of her plump, red +arms, that the moist tea-leaves on the floor +scarce moved beneath the broom.</p> + +<p>"Sure, I niver see sich a cairpet as this in all +me born days," she was saying. "If I was to +swape till I fell prostitute, I'd niver git it clane."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother about the work, Mary +Ellen!" we cried. "Just listen to the adventure +we had yesterday!"</p> + +<p>"I listened to the hindermost part of it," she +returned, "and it sounded purty lively."</p> + +<p>"Who cares?" said Angel. "It didn't hurt a +bit."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," assented The Seraph, cheerily. +"She gets weaker evwy day, and I get stwonger."</p> + +<p>We rushed upon Mary Ellen then with the +whole story of our new friends, dwelling, +especially, upon our visit below stairs, and the +rollicking men and maid-servants we found there.</p> + +<p>"They were drinking beer-and-gin," concluded +Angel, "and the scullery-maid did a breakdown +for us in a pair of hunting boots."</p> + +<p>"It beats all," said Mary Ellen, leaning on her +broom, "what kapes me in a dull place like this, +whin there do be sich wild goin's on just around +the corner like. I'd give a month's wage to see +thim folks."</p> + +<p>"Come around with me," suggested Angel, +"and I'll introduce you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Masther Angel. Misther Watlin, +me young man, wouldn't want me to be goin' into +mixed company widout him. An it do seem a +pity, too, since I have me new blue dress, for +if ever I look lovely, I look lovely in blue." And +she attacked the tea-leaves with a lagging broom.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody, when dinner was over, +fixed us with her cold grey eye, and said:</p> + +<p>"Since you have proved yourselves utterly untrustworthy, +you shall be locked in your bedroom, +during my absence this afternoon. Mary +Ellen, who will be engaged in cleaning the coal +cellar, has been instructed to supply you with +bread and milk at four o'clock. By exemplary +behaviour today, you will ensure a return to your +customary privileges tomorrow."</p> + + +<h4>VI</h4> + +<p>The prison door was locked. The gaoler +gone.</p> + +<p>Thus our Saturday half-holiday!</p> + +<p>Angel and I threw ourselves, face downward, +on the bed. Not so The Seraph. Folding his +arms, which were almost too short to fold, he +stood before the single window, gazing through +its grimy glass at the brick wall opposite, as +though determined to find something cheerful in +the outlook.</p> + +<p>Aeons passed.</p> + +<p>Familiar faces began to leer at me from the +pattern in the wall-paper. Angel was despondently +counting out his money on the counter-pane, +and trying to make three half-pennys and +a penny with a hole through it, look like affluence.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there came a rattling of hard particles on the pane. As we stared at each other +in surprise, another volley followed. It was a +signal, and no mistake! Already The Seraph +was tapping the window in response. A moment +of violent exertion passed before we could get it +open. Then, thrusting out our heads we discovered +Simon standing in the passage below, +his upturned face wearing an anxious grin.</p> + +<p>"Thought I'd never get you," he whispered +hoarsely. "I saw the Dragon go out, so I fired +a handful of gravel at every window in turn. +Come on out."</p> + +<p>"We can't. We're locked in!" we chorused +dismally.</p> + +<p>"I'll try to catch you if you jump," he suggested. +"I would break the fall, anyway."</p> + +<p>But the way looked long, and Simon very small.</p> + +<p>Then: "There's a ladder," cried The Seraph, +gleefully, "better twy that."</p> + +<p>With his usual clear-sightedness, he had spied +what had escaped his seniors. Our neighbour, +Mr. Mortimer Pegg, had been having some +paper hung, and, surely enough, the workmen +had left a tall ladder propped against the wall of +the house. Without a second's hesitation, Simon +flung himself upon it, and with one splendid +effort, hurled it from that support to the wall of +Mrs. Handsomebody's house. Then, with the +strength of a superman, he dragged it until it +leaned just below our window, and stood gasping +at its base.</p> + +<p>"Good fellow," said Angel, and began to climb +out.</p> + +<p>"Now, you hand me The Seraph," he ordered, +"and I'll attend to him."</p> + +<p>I had some misgivings as I passed his plump, +clinging little person through the window, and +watched him make the perilous descent, but, in +time, he reached the ground, and then I, too, +stood beside the others, and the four of us +scampered lightly down the street with no misgivings, +and no fears.</p> + +<p>Before the door of our own grocer, Simon +made a halt.</p> + +<p>"Must have somethin' wet," he gasped. +"Ladder nearly floored me."</p> + +<p>He took us in and treated us with princely unconcern +to ginger beer and a jam puff apiece. +As we sucked our beer through straws, I smiled +to think of Mary Ellen, doubtless preparing +bread and milk at home.</p> + +<p>Once more we entered the garden through the +creeper-hung door. We visited the rabbits, and +unchained one of the fox-terriers, which had been +tied up, Simon told us, as a punishment for eating +part of a lace curtain. Bill appeared then and +said that his mother desired us to go to her in the +drawing-room, and, as it was beginning to rain, +Simon agreed that it wasn't a bad idea. +We might even find something to eat in there.</p> + +<p>As we trooped past the basement window, I +lingered behind the others, and peered for a +space into the lawless region below. What met +my gaze almost took my breath away: for there +was our own Mary Ellen, who should have been +at that moment cleaning the coal cellar, sitting +at one end of the long table, in her new blue dress, +and plumed hat, a gentleman in livery on either +side of her, and on the table before her, a mug, +which, without doubt, contained gin-and-beer!</p> + +<p>I waited to see no more. Enough to know +that all the world was run amuck! With a glad +whoop, I sped after the others, and only drew +up when I stood on the threshold of the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Like the servants' hall, it was a large apartment, +and, like it, was bewildering in its colour +and movement, to eyes accustomed to the grey +decorum of Mrs. Handsomebody's establishment.</p> + +<p>Though it was summer, there was a fire on +the hearth, which played with changeful constancy +on the vivid chintzes, silver candle-sticks, +and many mirrors of the room, but most of all, +on the golden hair and satin tea-gown of the +lady in pink.</p> + +<p>She was speaking in a loud, clear voice to +Simon's father, who was leaning against the +mantelpiece smoking.</p> + +<p>"Why the devil," she was saying, "should you +smoke expensive cigars? Why don't you smoke +cigarettes as I do?"</p> + +<p>She angrily puffed at one as she spoke, and +threw herself back among the black and gold +cushions of the divan, where she was sitting. +Her fair brow cleared, however, as her glance +rested on The Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Adorable little toad!" she cried, drawing him +to her side. "What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Alexander," replied our youngest, "but they +call me The Seraph. I'm not a pampud pet."</p> + +<p>This sent the lady into a gale of laughter. She +hugged him closer and turned to me.</p> + +<p>"And what is your name, Sobersides?" she +demanded.</p> + +<p>"John," I replied, "and my father is David +Curzon, and he is an engineer in South America, +but he's coming back to England some day, and, I +expect then we shall go to school. We just live +with Mrs. Handsomebody."</p> + +<p>As I talked, her expression changed. She +leaned forward, searching my face eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?" she said, in a tragic voice. +"Is it possible? David Curzon. His son. +The very spit of him!" Abruptly she broke +into gay laughter, which, somehow, I did not +quite like: and turning to her husband, she said: +"Do you remember Davy Curzon? He was +such a silly old pet. Lor'! I'd quite forgot +him!"</p> + +<p>"Lucky Davy," said the gentleman, smiling at +me.</p> + +<p>"And he was so ridiculously poor," she went +on, "I remember he ruined himself once to buy +me a pair of cream-coloured ponies, and a lapis-lazuli +necklace. And I daresay he's <i>fat</i> now!"</p> + +<p>"He is not," I retorted stoutly. "He's thin. +He's had the fever."</p> + +<p>"Again?" she cried. "He had it when I knew +him—badly too. Who did he marry?"</p> + +<p>"A Miss Vicars," replied her husband. +"Good family. A screaming beauty too. Other +two boys look like her."</p> + +<p>But the lady had now, it seemed, no interest +in the other two boys. The Seraph was deposed +from his place on the divan to make room for +me; and the lady begged me to give her a kiss, +just for old times' sake. Yet, somehow, I did +not quite like it, for I felt that she was making +fun of my father, the hero of my dreams.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the other children, unchided, were +making things lively in their own way. Mops +and the boys were eating dates from a bowl and +pelting each other with the stones, while a new +member of the family, a seemingly sexless being +in a blue sash and shoulder knots, called "Baby," +galloped up and down the room with a battledore +and shuttlecock.</p> + + +<h4>VII</h4> + +<p>No servant announced her name. I felt no +warning tremor of solid Earth beneath my feet. +Yet there she was, in full equipment of bombazine +dress, hard black bonnet, reticule, and umbrella, +gripped like an avenging sword. Oh, +that some merciful cloud might have swept us, +like fair Iphigenia to the abode of the gods, and +left three soft-eyed hinds in our stead!</p> + +<p>Yet, there we were, gazing at her, spellbound: +and presently she enunciated with awful distinctness:</p> + +<p>"I am come to apologize for the intrusion of +my wards upon your privacy, and to remove them +instantly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bless you," said the lady in pink, cheerily, +"three or four more don't matter to us. Won't +you sit down? And children—please let the +lady's things be, d'you hear?" for these intrepid +children had gathered around Mrs. Handsomebody +as though she were a dancing bear; and +"Baby" had even pulled her umbrella from her +hand substituting for it the battledore which +Mrs. Handsomebody unconsciously held, with an +effect of ferocious playfulness.</p> + +<p>"I thank you," replied Mrs. Handsomebody. +"I shall remain standing."</p> + +<p>"Let me make you acquainted with my husband," +pursued the lady, "he's Lord Simon de +Lacey, second son of the Duke of Aberfalden. +Please excuse him smokin'!"</p> + +<p>The effect of these simple words on Mrs. Handsomebody +was startling. She brandished the +battledore as though to ward off the approaching +Lord Simon, and repeated in a trembling +voice:</p> + +<p>"Lord Simon de Lacey—Duke of Aberfalden. +Surely there is some mistake."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not," said Lord Simon, shaking +her hand. "In me you behold the traditional, +impecunious younger son, and—"</p> + +<p>"But it will not always be so," interrupted +Lady Simon, shouting to make herself heard, +"for, you see, my husband's older brother is an +invalid who will never marry, so we shall inherit +the dukedom and estates one day. This child—" +pointing to young Simon—"is a future duke."</p> + +<p>"He has a lovely brow," said Mrs. Handsomebody, +beaming at him.</p> + +<p>Indeed, an astounding change had come over +our governess. No longer was her manner +frigid; her face, so grey and hard, had softened +till it seemed to radiate benevolence. She +beamed at Bill and Bunny playing at leap-frog +before her chair; she beamed at "Baby," galloping +astride of her umbrella; she beamed at Mops, +trying to force a date into the mouth of a struggling +fox-terrier; she even beamed at me when I +caught her eye.</p> + +<p>"I trust that your father, the Duke, keeps +well," she said to Lord Simon.</p> + +<p>"Great old boy," he replied. "Never misses +a meet. Been in at the death of nearly four +thousand foxes."</p> + +<p>"Ah, blood will tell," breathed Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"You see," interposed Lady Simon, "the Duke +disinherited my husband when he married me. +Didn't approve of the Profession. I was Miss +Dulcie June, awfully well known. Photographs +all over the place. Danced at the Gaiety, +y'know."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I have heard of you," said Mrs. +Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"Well, the Duke and I ran into each other at a +dog show last week, and he was so struck with +me, he asked to be introduced, and has asked us +all to visit him at Falden Castle. It looks hopeful, +don't it?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes. But we shall be very sorry to +lose you. It is so difficult for me to find suitable +companions for my wards, and your children are +so—spirited. Of course, blood will tell."</p> + +<p>"Just what I say," assented Lady Simon, "for +I was a spirited girl, if ever there was one. +What with late hours, and toe-dancin' and high-kickin', +it's a wonder how I stood it. I think I +was like that Sir Galahad chap whose 'strength +was as the strength of ten'—"</p> + +<p>"Doubtless because your art was pure, my +love," put in Lord Simon, with a sly smile.</p> + +<p>"I used to know this boy's father in those +days," went on Lady Simon. "He was a lamb."</p> + +<p>"He was also my pupil in his youth," said Mrs. +Handsomebody, and the two talked on in the +happiest fashion, till we took our leave, the whole +family following us to the door, and "Baby" returning +Mrs. Handsomebody's umbrella, and relieving +her of the battledore without her having +been aware of the negotiation.</p> + +<p>So we who had expected to be haled to retribution, +as criminals of the deepest dye, floated +homeward in the serene light of Mrs. Handsomebody's +approval.</p> + +<p>No one spoke till the Cathedral came in view. +Then Angel said:</p> + +<p>"There's a window in the Cathedral in memory +of a son of some Duke of Aberfalden. He died +about a hundred years ago."</p> + +<p>"The very same family," replied our governess, +"and, I am sure, from now on, my dear boy, you +will regard the window with a new reverence."</p> + +<p>"You must have noticed," she proceeded, "the +geniality and dignity that emanated from each +separate member of that noble family. This is +admirably expressed by the French in the saying—'Noblesse +oblige'—meaning that nobility has +its obligations. Repeat the phrase after me, +David, that you may acquire a perfect accent."</p> + +<p>"Knob-less obleedge," repeated Angel, submissively; +and The Seraph also repeated it several +times, as though storing it away for future use.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Handsomebody rang the door-bell, +I trembled for Mary Ellen, remembering where +I had last seen her, but the admirable girl +promptly opened the door to us, clad in the drabbest +of her cellar-cleaning garb, a smudge of soot +on her rosy cheek.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody ordered sardines for tea, +and had the silver tea-pot brought out. She also +dressed for the occasion, adding a jet bracelet, +seldom seen, to her toilet.</p> + +<p>All went well, till, at bedtime, The Seraph +could not be found. Becoming alarmed, Mrs. +Handsomebody, at last, opened the door of the +forbidden parlour, Angel and I peering from behind +her, hoping, yet fearing, to discover the +recreant.</p> + +<p>Truly the gods had a mind to The Seraph. +His was ever the cream of every adventure. +There he was, lolling at ease, in a tasselled velvet +chair, just beneath the portrait of Mr. Handsomebody. +Lolling at ease, and smoking a +gold-tipped cigarette, which, he afterwards confessed, +he had got from Bill, in trade for a piece +of India-rubber.</p> + +<p>Like an old-timer he handled it, watching the +smoke-wreaths above his head with the tranquil +gaze of an elderly club-man.</p> + +<p>"Merciful Heaven!" screamed Mrs. Handsomebody, +clutching Angel and me for support. +"Are you demented, Alexander? Do you realize +what you are doing?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph drew a long puff, looking straight +into her eyes, before he replied: then, in a tone +of gentle seriousness, he said:</p> + +<p>"Knob-less obleedge."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch9">Chapter IX: The Cobbler And +His Wife</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>Bootlaces had become of immense importance +to us, since a lack of them always meant a visit to +the cobbler to buy new ones. They were comparatively +easy to break, or to tie in knots that even +Mary Ellen's strong fingers could not undo. +Then there were tongues. One could always dislocate +a tongue. At any rate, the boots of one of +the three were always needing attention.</p> + +<p>"Bless me!" our governess would exclaim, +wrathfully, "Another heel off! One would think +you did it purposely. And boots such a price! +Just think of your poor father in South America, +working day in and day out to provide you with +boots, which you treat with no more consideration +than if they were horseshoes—well, to the cobbler's +then—and tell him to mind his charges. It +should cost no more than sixpence."</p> + +<p>The cobbler lived in the tiniest of a group of +tiny houses that huddled together, in a panicky +fashion, in a narrow street behind Mrs. Handsomebody's +house. From an upper window we +could look down on their roofs, where the plump, +Cathedral pigeons used to congregate to gossip +and sun themselves.</p> + +<p>You went down three stone steps into the cobbler's +shop. There he always sat at work by his +bench, tapping away at the sole of a shoe, or +stitching leather with his strange needle. His +hands fascinated us by their coat of smooth oily +dirt. Never cleaner, never dirtier, always the +same useful, glove-like covering. Did he go to +bed with them so? How jolly! we thought. His +face, too, was of extraordinary interest. It was +so thin that the sharp bones could be seen beneath +the dusky skin, and he would twitch his nostrils +at the breeze that came in his open window, for +all the world like an eager brown hare. His hair +curled so tightly over his head that one knew he +could never pull a comb through it, and we were +sure he was far too sensible to try.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody said he was half gypsy, +and not to be encouraged. Mary Ellen said, +God help him with that wife of his.</p> + +<p>He bred canaries.</p> + +<p>All about the low window their wooden cages +hung. Even from the darkest corners of the +shop bursts of song leaped like little flames and +yellow breasts bloomed like daffodils. When +the cobbler tapped a shoe with his hammer, they +sang loudest, making a wild and joyous din.</p> + +<p>Thus they were all busy together when we entered +on this winter morning, carrying Angel's +heelless boot, wrapped in a newspaper.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Martindale," said Angel, +above the din, "you see I've got another heel off, +so I'm wearing my Sunday boots, and Mrs. Handsomebody +says it shouldn't be above sixpence, +please."</p> + +<p>The cobbler ceased his tapping, and all the +birds stopped to listen:</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, little masters," he said, in +his soft voice. "What wild things your feet are +to be sure. Try as I will, I cannot tame them. +You might as well try to keep three wild ponies +shod." He undid the parcel and turned the boot +over in his hands. "Sixpence, did she say? +Nay, tell her a shilling, for the sole needs stitching +as well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you must keep that for another day," +said Angel, "so we can come again."</p> + +<p>"How she tries to keep you down," said the +cobbler. "How old are you now?"</p> + +<p>I replied to this. "Angel's ten, and I'm nine, +and The Seraph's six."</p> + +<p>"Just the brave age for the woods. I wish I +had my old van again, and could take you on the +road with me. You'd learn something of forest +ways in no time. Shall you wait for this?"</p> + +<p>Wait for it? Rather. We established ourselves about him; The Seraph climbed beside him +on the bench; Angel took possession of his tools, +handing them to him as required; while I busied +myself in plentifully oiling a strip of leather. +The birds chirped and pecked above our heads.</p> + +<p>Angel asked: "Did you do much cobbling in +the van, Mr. Martindale?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, cobbling and tinkering too. The forest +birds liked to hear me just the same as those +canaries. Especially the tinkering. They'd +crowd about and sing fit to burst their throats—wood-thrushes, +finches, and all sorts. Then, I +used to stop at village fairs and take in a nice bit +of silver. For my missus could play the concertina, +and I had a cage of lovebirds that could tell +fortunes and do tricks."</p> + +<p>A strange voice spoke from the passage behind +the shop.</p> + +<p>"Ay. Comical tricks lovebirds do. And +cruel tricks, love. I've been tricked by 'em."</p> + +<p>"Better lie down, Ada," said Martindale. +"Or make tea. That'll quiet ye." He rose and +went to the door, closing it softly. But he had +barely seated himself again, when there came a +scream from the passage.</p> + +<p>"Look what you've did, you villain, you've shut +me in the door! Oh! oh! I'm trapped in this +comical passage! Loose me quick!"</p> + +<p>Martindale sprang to the door, where a strip of +red petticoat showed that his wife was indeed +caught, and went out into the passage, speaking +in a soothing tone, and leading her away.</p> + +<p>"I fink I'll go," whispered The Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly," I assured him, "the cobbler +will take care she don't hurt us."</p> + +<p>"She's a character, isn't she?" said Angel, borrowing +a phrase from Mary Ellen.</p> + +<p>Martindale returned then, sat down on his +bench, and, smoothing his leather apron, resumed +his work with composure.</p> + +<p>"I fink," said The Seraph, "I hear Mrs. Handsomebody +calling. I better be off."</p> + +<p>"Bide a little while," said Martindale, "and +I'll tell you a first rate story—about birds too. +Then you'll forget your fright, little master, eh?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph moved closer to him, and the +canaries burst into a fury of song.</p> + +<p>"It's wonderful what birds know," he began. +"News flies as fast among 'em as wind on the +heath, and if you do an injury to one, the others'll +never forgive it. For though they may fight +among themselves, they'll all join together against +one wicked cruel man."</p> + +<p>The canaries ceased their singing, and fluttered +against the bars.</p> + +<p>"Just look at Coppertoes," said the cobbler, +pointing to a large ruffled bird, "he's heard this +tale often afore, yet it always excites him. He'll +peck at his perch; and beat his wings for hours +after it. Won't you, my pet?"</p> + +<p>Coppertoes crouched on his perch, his beak +open, making little hissing sounds.</p> + +<p>"Well, there was a man," went on the cobbler, +"a student fellow he was, who was always making +queer messes with chemicals, and fancying he was +about to discover some wonderful new combination. +He lived in a top room in a high, narrow +house, well on towards three hundred years ago. +And all those years, a family of song-sparrows, +and their descendants, had nested under the eaves +directly above his window. Hatched out their +young; fed them; and taught them to fly. Very +well. This student fellow was all in a fever one +morning because he believed that, at last, his +great discovery was all but perfect. Just a few +hours more and he would have it in the hollow of +his hand. But he could not rightly fasten his +brain to work because of the constant cheeping +of the young sparrows under the eaves. Every +time the mother bird brought them a moth or +worm they raised a chorus of yells; and when +she flew away, they cheeped for her to come back +again.</p> + +<p>"The student-fellow shut his window, but it did +not keep out the noise. Then he flung open the +window and waved his arms and shouted at them. +But they only cheeped the louder. Now a dreadful rage took hold on him. With his heart full +of murder, he fetched a basin in which he had +put some poisonous drug. He set fire to this and +set it on the window sill just below the nest. +Then, with a triumphal smile, he shut the window +fast, leaving the fledglings to perish in the fumes +that rose, thick and deadly from the basin.</p> + +<p>"For hours he worked, and, at last, to his +great joy, he figured out the amazing problem +that was to be a gain to the whole world. He +was so tired that he clean forgot the little birds, +and flung himself, face down, on his bed to rest. +He did not wake until the next morning at seven. +It was so dark that he had to strike a light to +see the face of his watch. Now he knew that it +should not be dark at either seven in the morning +or seven at night; and he felt very strange. The +room was full of the unclean smells of his chemicals, +and he groped his way to the window to get +air. But the outdoor air was murky and he saw +that a heavy cloud had settled just above the +chimney pots. This cloud seemed to palpitate, +as though made of a million beating wings. +Down below he could hear the clatter of wooden +clogs on the cobble stones, as people were running +in a panic to the Town Hall. The big bell of it +began to ring, but in a muffled way as though +borne down by the cloud. The student guessed +that a meeting was being called.</p> + +<p>"He remembered the sparrows then, and he +craned his neck to see the nest. There was the +little mother-bird sitting in the nest with her +wings outstretched to protect the nestlings from +the deadly fumes. Her beak was wide open and +she was quite dead."</p> + +<p>The Seraph's breast heaved and his tears began +to drop on the cobbler's leather apron. +Coppertoes squatted beneath his swing, striking +it angrily with his shoulders so that it swung +violently. All the other birds were silent.</p> + +<p>Steadily working at the shoe the cobbler proceeded: +"The terrible truth was borne to the +student then, and he knew that the cock sparrow, +on finding his mate and her young ones thus foully +murdered, had flown swiftly to the king of all +the birds, and told him of the deed. The king +had summoned great battalions of birds, from +fierce eagles and owls (these last rushing from +their dark hiding places) down to fluttering little +wrens and tomtits. 'Twas of those that the +great cloud was made, and it hung just over the +town like a dark wave that would soon smother +the townsfolk.</p> + +<p>"The student caught up the paper where he +had writ the great discovery and made for the +street, running along with the rest of the folk, +and ready to drop with fear of the great press of +wings above them. When he got to the Town +Hall, he found the whole town huddled together +there, even new mothers with their babes, like +young birds; and, in a moment the beadle had +swung the great doors shut. In there they could +scarce see each other's fearful faces; but the +student clumb up on the council table, and he told +out bravely enough how it was all his doing, and +since he had brought it to pass, he was prepared +to go out and face the birds alone.</p> + +<p>"But first he handed over the paper to the +Mayor, and charged him to guard it stoutly, for +it was about the most precious thing on earth. +Then he called—'Good-bye! friends,' and went, +since there was no time to spare; for the birds +were beginning to hammer like hail on the windows +with their beaks, especially the cranes and +flamingos.</p> + +<p>"When the door had clanged behind him the +women mourned aloud, for they knew they would +never see him again. A great tumult rose outside +as of a hurricane, and it grew pitch dark. +After a spell, the noise ceased, and the cloud +lifted, and a shaft of sunlight slanted across the +hall. The village tailor opened the door, for +the mayor and the beadle were sore afeared. +There was not a bird in sight, though the ground +was inches deep in feathers they had dropped. +As for the student, no one ever saw him again. +Whether the birds had carried him off bodily to +some secret place, or whether they had torn him +piecemeal, no one knew."</p> + +<p>The Seraph sniffled. "It's nice and twagic," +he said.</p> + +<p>"What became of his great discovery?" asked +Angel.</p> + +<p>"Ay, you may well ask that. Why, the mayor +said it was bewitched and held it in the flame of +a candle till there was naught left of it but cinders.... +Now, here is your boot, little master, +good as new, and the cost but one shilling."</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>When we entered the house, we heard voices +in the parlour, and found our governess there, +superintending Mary Ellen at work. Mary Ellen +was carefully brushing and dusting the plumage +of the stuffed birds.</p> + +<p>I stared with a new interest at those feathered +members of our household, who held themselves +so coldly aloof from the rest of us; asking neither +gift of chickweed nor of sugar, disdaining the +very air we breathed. Who knew but that yonder +sad-eyed hawk had helped to tear the student! +"Piecemeal" the cobbler's word for it—one could +picture him with some bloody fragment, shooting +straight upward, his wide pinions spread.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody was speaking in a complaining +way to Angel.</p> + +<p>"A shilling! 'Tis ridiculous. For such a +paltry piece of work. I shall go around that +way when we take our walk and protest against +such extortion. I said sixpence to you when you +set out."</p> + +<p>"I know," replied Angel, "but he said it was +worth a shilling."</p> + +<p>"You see, he has a wife to keep," put in The +Seraph, "and live birds to feed."</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen withdrew her head from the interior +of the glass case.</p> + +<p>"Oh'm," she said, very red in the face, "it's +thrue that Misther Martindale needs every penny +he can lay hands on, for his wife is no good to +him at all, and he has to hire a charwoman to +clane up for her."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Mrs. Handsomebody, "I shall +seek a shoemaker who has no such encumbrance. +Is the woman feeble-minded or a sloven?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, she's both 'm, and ivery day she's gettin' +worse than she do be. I've heard her say +sich things whin I've been in the shop that me +very sowl-case shivered."</p> + +<p>"What sort of things?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mary Ellen, circling her duster +on the glasses, so that she might still be said to +be working as she talked, "the other day whin I +called for me slippers wid the satin bows on—"</p> + +<p>"I disapprove of those bows."</p> + +<p>"—She was in the passage beyant, and just +the voice of her came through the crack o' the +dure. She says, says she: 'If a body was to fall—an' +fall—an' fall—and there was naught to +stop him, it's comical to think where he'd light +on.'... Her voice was as solemn as the church +organ, 'm. Another day she says: 'If I could +only git the moon out of this passage, there'd be +room for my head to whirl round and round!' +'Excuse me,' I says to the cobbler, 'I'll call for +thim shoes later.'"</p> + +<p>"What appearance has she?" inquired Mrs. +Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"Noan at all. I've niver seed her. No one +has ever seed her. She's more banshee than +woman, I do belave."</p> + +<p>True to her threat, Mrs. Handsomebody +stopped at the cobbler's that afternoon, at the +outset of our accustomed promenade. The birds +were in full chorus as we descended the steps into +the shop.</p> + +<p>The cobbler got to his feet, and touched his +forehead respectfully. This pleased Mrs. Handsomebody.</p> + +<p>"My good man," she said, "You have sadly +overcharged me for putting a new heel on this +child's boot. I said, when I sent it that it was +worth sixpence—"</p> + +<p>The cobbler opened his mouth to speak.</p> + +<p>—"Now, don't interrupt," continued Mrs. +Handsomebody. "I shall not ask you to refund +the sixpence; but I have brought a prunella gaiter +of my own which needs stitching, and I shall expect +you to do it, without extra charge, if you +wish to retain the patronage of my household."</p> + +<p>Here was a test of manhood! Would Martindale, +a full-grown male, submit to being bullied +by a creature who wore a bustle, and a black silk +apron? Alas, for the whiskered sex! He took +his medicine; just as we, hedged in some fateful +corner, gulped down our castor oil. Turning +the gaiter over in his dark hands, he meekly assented. +Mrs. Handsomebody, appeased by her +easy victory, inquired after his wife.</p> + +<p>"Oh, poorly as usual, thank you ma'am," he +said.</p> + +<p>"I should think that country life would be much +better for her."</p> + +<p>"She's even worse in the country."</p> + +<p>"There was a sheet of an excellent religious +paper wrapped about that gaiter. You might +give it to her to read."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am, I will, though she takes +more comfort reading the dream-book than anything."</p> + +<p>"Burn the dream-book. It is probably at the +root of the trouble."</p> + +<p>"No," replied the cobbler, slowly, "It all began +when we lost our daughter."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody was touched. "That is +sad indeed. How old was the child?"</p> + +<p>"Just two days old, ma'am. We were camping +in a forest when she was born, and I had +laid her in a little hammock among the birds, and +some gypsies must have stolen her, for when I +came back she was gone. She'd be eighteen +now." He stroked his leather apron with trembling +hands, at the same time giving me a curious +look of appeal. So when Mrs. Handsomebody, +after a few words of sympathy made a movement +to go, I developed a strange pain in the leg, that +made walking an impossibility. She consented +that I should rest a while at the cobbler's, and +then return home carrying the gaiter.</p> + +<p>When Martindale and I were left alone, he +cautiously opened the door into the passage, +peered out, and then returned. He said softly:</p> + +<p>"Little Master, I've got to get rid of Coppertoes. +She's turned against him. She says he +comes out of his cage of nights, and flies about +the house, pecking at the food, and trying to +make a nest in her hair. She says he stole a +golden sovereign of hers and hid it in an old +shoe. Isn't it a shame, and he such a lovely +bird?"</p> + +<p>"It's awful," I agreed. "What shall you do?"</p> + +<p>"I know a man who will buy him, but he is out +of town till tomorrow. Could I depend on you, +little master, to keep him for me till then? If +he is left here the misses will do him an injury."</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. Handsomebody—" I faltered.</p> + +<p>"Just put him in some out o' the way corner +with a cloth over his cage, and a lump of sugar. +He'll be quiet as can be, and 'twill soon be +dark—"</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>With a delicious sense of secrecy, I stole past +the Cathedral. Pressed against my breast was +the cage that held Coppertoes. He sat quietly +on his perch, very long, and slender, and bright-eyed +with amazement at this sudden excursion +into a new world. I wondered what he thought +of the towering Cathedral, shrouded in a film of +hoar frost that lent its ancient stones a bloom +as delicate as the petals of flowers.</p> + +<p>Three pigeons hopped daintily down the +shallow stone steps, cocking their heads inquisitively +at the bird in the cage. I shouted at them, +and they rose slowly to the tower above.</p> + +<p>Silent indeed was the hall when I entered. +Only the clock ticked ponderously. The house +was cold, and Coppertoes seemed suddenly very +fragile. How lonely he would be! I stared at +the closed door of the parlour, thinking what a +shame that the stuffed birds in there were not +alive, so they might be company for him. Still—he +was very young—and had not seen much +of the world. Might he not be made to believe +that they were a foreign breed that never chirped +or left their perches? Anything was better than +the dark and loneliness. And if he chose to sing +I was sure he could not be heard through that +heavy door.</p> + +<p>Like a ghost I went in and shut the door behind +me.</p> + +<p>I held his wicker cage against the glass case. +"Coppertoes," I whispered, "Other birds! +Aren't they pretty? Want to get in an' play +with them, old chap? See the pretty oriole? +An' the owl, Coppertoes. Lovebirds, too. Want +to get in, little fellow? Such a bully big cage you +never saw."</p> + +<p>I opened the door of the glass case, and cautiously +introduced the bird cage. I opened the +door of the cage. Coppertoes paid no heed but +busied himself in pecking sharply at his lump of +sugar. I urged him with my finger but still he +refused to see the door. Then I took away his +sugar, and poked him. With a light and careless +hop he was on the threshold. He cocked +his head. He spied the oriole.</p> + +<p>An instant later he was at its throat. Feathers +flew. He was back again on the roof of his +cage spitting feathers out of his mouth. More +feathers sailed slowly through the heavy air. +Then he spied the lovebirds. With passionate +fury he attacked them both at once, tearing their +plumage impartially; his eye already selecting the +next victim.</p> + +<p>Though my heart thumped with apprehension, +my mouth was stretched in a broad grin. I felt +that I should never tire of the spectacle before +me. I realized that I had always hated the +stuffed birds.</p> + +<p>Coppertoes was busy with the owl, when a +piercing scream came from behind me. I turned +and found Mrs. Handsomebody gazing with horrified +fascination at the orgy under glass. She +took three steps forward, her eyes starting with +horror.</p> + +<p>"Come to life—" she gasped, in a strangled +voice—"after all these years—and gone stark +mad."</p> + +<p>She fell, at full length, across the green and +red medallions of the carpet.</p> + +<p>Then, with a rush, Mary Ellen and the charwoman, +Mrs. Coe, were upon us, and, after them, +my brothers.</p> + +<p>"Lord preserve us!" cried Mary Ellen, bending +above her prostrate mistress, "what has come +over the poor lady to be took like this?"</p> + +<p>"Is she dead, do you fink?" asked The Seraph, +on a hopeful note.</p> + +<p>"Well, if she is, faith! 'tis yersilves has kilt +her."</p> + +<p>"She's just in a swoond," asserted Mrs. Coe, +calmly. "Wot she needs is brandy. Yus, and +terbaccer smoke blowed dahn 'er froat." Mrs. +Handsomebody moaned.</p> + +<p>"Better get her out of here," suggested Angel, +his eye on Coppertoes who, sated by bloodshed, +lay with wings outstretched, panting on the floor +of the case.</p> + +<p>"Thrue," agreed Mary Ellen. "And shut the +dure afther ye, and make yersilves scarce till tea-time, +like good childer, do."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody was borne away by Mary +Ellen and Mrs. Coe, the latter still muttering—"terbaccer +smoke dahn 'er froat."</p> + +<p>We restored Coppertoes to his wicker cage, and +wrapping it in an antimacassar, hid it beneath +the piano.</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>We three sat, "making ourselves scarce," on +the topmost of the steps before the front door. +It was only four by the Cathedral clock, which +solemnly struck the hour, but it was almost dark. +It was cold and we pressed closely together for +warmth. The Seraph murmured a little song of +which I caught the words:</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"The birds! The birds!</p> +<p class="i2">He knocked the stuffing</p> +<p class="i2">Out of the stuffed birds!"</p> +</div></div> + +<p>We watched the slow progress of the lamplighter +along the street. Like a god, he marched +solemnly, leaving new stars in his wake.</p> + +<p>As he raised his wand and touched the lamp +before our house, a new figure appeared beneath +its rays, hurrying darkly towards us. It entered +the gate and came in a stealthy way to where we +sat. We recognized the cobbler.</p> + +<p>"Little masters," he whispered. "She's +flitted."</p> + +<p>"Good widdance," said The Seraph, briskly. +"She was too comical to be a nice wife."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no," replied the cobbler. "She's weak +in her head and bound to come to something +hurtful. I'll not seek my bed this night until +I've found her. I thought mayhap you'd ha' seen +her pass!"</p> + +<p>"No," replied Angel. "We didn't. But perhaps +the lamplighter did."</p> + +<p>With one accord, we hurried after the retreating +figure. Hearing our footsteps, he turned and +faced us beneath a newly lit lamp. Its serene +radiance fell on his solemn blue-eyed face, surrounded +by red whiskers.</p> + +<p>"What's the turmoil?" he asked. "Did I forget +a lamp?"</p> + +<p>"Have ye seen a strange-appearing woman?" +asked Martindale. "With a shawl about her, +and mayhap remarking something about the moon, +or a evil-minded canary."</p> + +<p>The lamplighter ran his fingers through his +red beard. "She warn't saying naught about +canaries," he affirmed, "but she did say as how +if she could once get the moon in Wumble Pool, +she'd drown it."</p> + +<p>"Wumble Pool. That's where she's gone +then. I can't seem to place it."</p> + +<p>"It's less nor a mile from here, and since my +last lamp is lit, I'll not mind guiding you so far. +Who be she, this woman?"</p> + +<p>"My wife. She's fey, and I'm fearing she'll +drown herself."</p> + +<p>"It's a very bad fing to be drowned," put in +The Seraph, as we all set off together. "'Cos a +bath in a tub is wet enough."</p> + +<p>What a chill, dark night it was growing! The +Cathedral clock struck a hollow warning note as +we passed. We heard the beat of wings as the +pigeons settled for the night.</p> + +<p>The Seraph grasped a hand each of the cobbler +and the lamplighter, taking long manful strides +to keep up with them. We seemed, indeed, a +sinister company setting out on dark adventure.</p> + +<p>Hurriedly we traversed narrow, winding +streets, where night had already fallen in the +shadow of clammy walls. Strange and eerie was +the path between wet trees, when we had left the +town behind. The lamplighter with his tall +wand alight seemed like some unearthly messenger +come to conduct us to goblin realms.</p> + +<p>We spoke never a word till an open common +lay before us; then the lamplighter pointing with +his wand to a glimmering surface fringed by rank +grass, said:</p> + +<p>"Yon's Wumble Pool."</p> + +<p>Wumble Pool! The very name struck a chill +to our hearts.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and there's the moon," whispered the +cobbler.</p> + +<p>It was true that the distorted image of the +moon floated dimly in the Pool, as though it had +indeed been caught by the mad-woman, and +drowned.</p> + +<p>"How soft the ground is!" breathed Angel.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and the Pool has no bottom," said the +lamplighter.</p> + +<p>"I can't think she'd have the heart to do it," +said Martindale.</p> + +<p>The Seraph screamed.</p> + +<p>"There she is! I see her! Standing in the +Pool!"</p> + +<p>We ran to the brink. A cold air struck our +faces. Our feet sank ankle-deep in the mud. +The cobbler did not stop, but ran on into the +Pool, where the shawled figure of a woman stood, +covered to the waist by the sullen, black water.</p> + +<p>"Ada! Ada!" cried the cobbler, throwing his +arms about her.</p> + +<p>"Leave me go!" shrieked the woman. "I'm +a-goin' to drownd myself!"</p> + +<p>The struggle in the water, shattered the reflection +of the moon like pale amber glass. Once +they both sank into the water; the lamplighter +waving his wand, and shouting. Then, at last, +the four of us bent over them as they lay, huddled, +on the grass at the brink.</p> + +<p>"You'd ought to be ashamed of yourself to +worrit your 'usband so," said the lamplighter, +sternly.</p> + +<p>"'Usband!" cried the woman, shrilly. "I've +got no 'usband!"</p> + +<p>The cobbler gave a cry of fear. He pulled +the shawl from her head and felt the face and +hair.</p> + +"God's truth!" he muttered, "I've saved the +wrong woman." + +<p>"Better fwow her back again," suggested The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, little man," said the lamplighter, +holding his light close to her face. "That would +never do. Besides, her be young and winsome."</p> + +<p>"I'd keep her," said Angel.</p> + +<p>"Whoever are you, lass?" asked Martindale, +in a trembling voice, "and why did you plan to +make way with yourself?"</p> + +<p>The moon shone wanly on the girl's face and +wet hair.</p> + +<p>"I'm nobody," she wailed, "and I be tired of +life."</p> + +<p>"Did you see aught of a strange woman?" +asked Martindale. "One who was talking about +the moon, and her head a-whirling?"</p> + +<p>"She came right down the road ahead of me," +she answered, in a weak voice, "and ran straight +into the pool. When she was in, she grabbed +the floating image of the moon, and she said: +'I've got you, at last, you comical villain!' And +she laughed, and seemed to struggle with it, and +she went down."</p> + +<p>"That'd be her, all right," said the lamplighter.</p> + +<p>"Ada mine, Ada mine," mourned Martindale.</p> + +<p>Angel and The Seraph and I clutched hands, +and looked shudderingly into Wumble Pool.</p> + +<p>"That seemed to scare me like," went on the +girl, "and I couldn't jump right in, but I just +crept, a step at a time, fearing I'd step on the +body."</p> + +<p>"No danger," said The Seraph complacently, +"there's no bottom."</p> + +<p>"One thing is certain," pronounced the lamplighter, +"this young 'ooman should have some +hot spirits in her inside, and be wrapped in a +warm blanket, afore she's starved with the cold."</p> + +<p>First we walked all around Wumble Pool, and +poked it with sticks, but there was no sign of the +cobbler's wife. Then, slowly, we retraced our +steps to the town, the two men supporting the +dripping girl.</p> + +<p>A lamp burned with a ruddy glow in the room +behind the shop, where all the birds were sleeping. +Martindale put his charge in a chair by the +hearth, and made gin-and-beer hot for everybody. +The Seraph kissed the girl, and she said that she +was glad after all that she was safe out of Wumble +Pool.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, my dear?" questioned +Martindale.</p> + +<p>"I don't know my name rightly, sir, for I was +stole by gipsies when I was but two days old."</p> + +<p>The cobbler gave a cry and set down his glass. +"Gipsies—two days' old—" he stammered. +Then he pushed back the thick hair, about her +ear. "Yes, yes!" pointing to a tiny slit in the +lobe, "there is the very place,—where one of my +jealous birds pecked her the day she was born!" +He caught her in his arms and held her, mystified +but happy—.</p> + +<p>The reunion was interrupted by a pounding at +the door. It was a furious Mary Ellen, her +night out completely spoiled by the search for us.</p> + +<p>Thus we were haled before Mrs. Handsomebody, +questioned, upbraided, and given, at last, +a bowl of hot gruel apiece.</p> + +<p>"You deserve," she said bitterly, "to go empty +to bed, but my conscience forbids that I relax my +vigilance over your health. Tomorrow, we +shall see what can be done in the way of discipline."</p> + +<p>We sat on three high-backed haircloth chairs. +The steaming gruel slipped thickly into our stomachs. +The hot gin had gone to our heads. Mrs. +Handsomebody's head looked abnormally large +to me, and seemed to be whirling round and +round. Surely she was not getting like the cobbler's +wife! Mrs. Handsomebody was still +scolding:</p> + +<p>"You began the day by introducing a canary +of the lowest proclivities into my case of stuffed +birds, where he perpetrated irreparable damage—"</p> + +<p>The Seraph interrupted, "Don't you yike live +birds, Mrs. Handsomebody?"</p> + +<p>"I prefer stuffed birds to live ones, I confess."</p> + +<p>The Seraph said apologetically: "And I pwefer +gin to gwuel—any day."</p> + +<p>"Gin! Where did you taste gin?"</p> + +<p>Without reply The Seraph hurried on, while +Angel and I scraped our bowls:</p> + +<p>"There was once a student fellow and he didn't +yike live birds, either. He poisoned one and it +died. Then he undertook a walk (this was a +favourite expression of Mrs. Handsomebody's) +and all the other birds pounced on him and tore +him piecemeal."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody, with a ferocious gleam +in her eye, leaned forward to catch the rest. +The Seraph's voice was low and insinuating.</p> + +<p>"I was finking"—with a chuckle—"that you +might poison one of the nicest of the stuffed birds. +Then you might get in the glass case wiv the +others. We could lock the door on the outside +and watch through the glass."</p> + +<p>"And I expect you think they would tear <i>me</i> +piecemeal? Is that the idea?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," chuckled The Seraph. +"But suppose you twy it."</p> + +<br /><br /> + + +<h2><i><a name="ch10">Chapter X: The New Day</a></i></h2> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>I think we must have felt that he was coming, +for we awoke at dawn that morning. I could +barely see the silvery bars between the slats of +the shutters. The Seraph was stirring in his +sleep, and in a moment he whispered: "I say, +John, what's that long black thing behind the +door?"</p> + +<p>"Just some clothes hung up," I whispered back.</p> + +<p>"I fought they moved," he said. "Do you +fink the wardrobe door moved, John?"</p> + +<p>"Everything seems a little queer this morning," +I replied. "I heard a whispering sort of noise +at the shutters a bit ago."</p> + +<p>Angel began to talk in his sleep.</p> + +<p>"If three suns were to rise at six," he muttered, +"how many stars would it take to make a +moon?"</p> + +<p>The Seraph began to laugh delightedly. He +kicked his legs and showed all his little white +teeth. Angel opened his eyes and stared at us +crossly. "What a beastly row," he said. "I +want to sleep some more."</p> + +<p>The silver bars between the slats of the shutters +took a golden tinge. Clearly it was to be +a fine day, after a week of rain and sleet.</p> + +<p>The chimes of the Cathedral sounded. The +notes came with penetrating sweetness as though +the air were cold and clear. We heard the door +of Mary Ellen's room open; she descended the +back stairs noisily.</p> + +<p>The Seraph turned a somersault in the middle +of the bed.</p> + +<p>"Cwistmas is coming," he said, trying to stand +on his head, "and I want a pony."</p> + +<p>We threw ourselves into a general scuffle, and +the old-four-poster creaked and the bolster fell +to the floor.</p> + +<p>Then up the cavernous backstairs came the +peal of the front door bell. We heard Mary +Ellen drop the poker and run through the house. +It was an unheard of hour for the front door +bell to ring. We sat up in bed in stiffened attitudes +of expectancy. Mary Ellen was mounting +the front stair. She rapped loudly at Mrs. +Handsomebody's bedroom door. There were +whispers. Then Mrs. Handsomebody's voice +came decidedly:</p> + +<p>"Go about your work with the utmost speed. +Say nothing to the boys of this. I shall tell +them when they have had their breakfast."</p> + +<p>In a moment she appeared at our door in her +purple dressing-gown, an expression of repressed +excitement on her face. A sunbeam slanting +through the passage rested on the fringe of curl-papers +about her head so that she looked like +some elderly saint wearing a rather ragged halo.</p> + +<p>"I have received news," she announced, with +more than usual firmness, "which will make it +necessary for us to rise immediately. Dress as +quickly as you can, and help your little brother. +What a state you have got that bed into! You +deserve to be punished." She stood for a +moment, her eyes resting on us with a curious +look, then, with a sigh, she turned away and went +back to her room.</p> + +<p>At breakfast she still wore her dressing-gown, +an unprecedented laxity. Beside her on the table-cloth +lay a crumpled piece of buff paper. So it +was by telegram that the news had come. Instantly +I thought. The telegram is from father. +He is coming home. Maybe he is on his way. +In London even! The food would not go down +my throat. Shudders of excitement shook me.</p> + +<p>I looked at Angel. Taking advantage of Mrs. +Handsomebody's absorption he was spreading a +second spoonful of sugar over his porridge. +The Seraph was staring, spoon in hand, into Mrs. +Handsomebody's set face. He said—</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Handsomebody, if I was to smile at you, +would you smile back at me?"</p> + +<p>"Alexander," replied Mrs. Handsomebody, +"I hope I have never been found wanting in courtesy. +But, at present, I should prefer to see you +eat your breakfast with as much speed as possible. +John, eat your porridge."</p> + +<p>"I can't, please."</p> + +<p>"Eat it instantly, sir."</p> + +<p>"I can't," I repeated, beginning to blubber, "I +want to see father!"</p> + +<p>"Eat your porridge and you shall see him. +He will be here at ten o'clock. Silence, now, no +uproar. My nerves are under quite enough +strain." She poured herself fresh tea, and continued:</p> + +<p>"There will be no tasks today. After breakfast +you will put on your best jackets and collars, +and sit in the parlour until he arrives. I implore +you to be as composed as possible."</p> + +<p>The questions that poured from us were +hushed by a gesture of her inflexible, white hand. +Dazed by the news, we were herded back to our +bedroom, hurried into stiff white collars and +hustled into shining Sunday shoes. There was +the sound of cold water tinkling in the basin; of +straining bootlaces; and of the creaking of a +loose board in the floor every time Mary Ellen +stepped on it. Scarcely a word was spoken. +Now that what we had so long strained towards +was at hand we stood breathless before the immensity of it. The long year and nine months +at Mrs. Handsomebody's fell like a heavy curtain +between us and the past. Our father's face had +grown hazy to us. I think The Seraph only pretended +to remember. His coming had been held +over our heads so long, as a time of swift retribution, +that a feeling of doubt, almost terror, +mingled with our joy.</p> + +<p>At last we were ready. With shining faces, +burning ears, and quickly tapping hearts, we went +soberly down the stairs. The door of the parlour +stood wide open. Mrs. Handsomebody, +herself, was dusting the case of stuffed birds, +whose plumage, sadly thinned by the attentions +of Coppertoes, seemed to quiver with expectancy.</p> + +<p>We were instructed to wait inside the iron +gate, at the front, until train time, when we were +to be recalled to the parlour, and take our places +on three chairs, already ranged in a row for us. +Thus we were to be displayed by Mrs. Handsomebody, +to our sire.</p> + +<p>We found Granfa polishing the brass on the +front door, his white locks bobbing as he rubbed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Granfa," we cried, "have you heard the +news?"</p> + +<p>"Ess fay," he replied, straightening his back, +"for thiccy Mary Ellen came a-galloping at top +speed to ask me to shine the brasses for 'ee, knowing I have a wonderful art that way. The poor +Zany was all in a mizmaze."</p> + +<p>"Are you glad father's coming?"</p> + +<p>"Glad! I be so joyful as a bulfinch in springtime. +See how the very face of Natur' be lit up +for the grand occasion."</p> + +<p>The sky had, indeed, become deeply blue, and +a great pink cloud hung above the Cathedral like +a welcoming banner. There had been frost in +the night forming thin ice over the puddles in the +road. All those reflected the serene pink of the +cloud, a blue pigeon picked his way delicately +among them. A sweet-smelling wind swayed the +moist brown limbs of the elm trees. All the +world seemed like a great organ attuned to joy.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," suggested Angel, "that we just race +around to the cobbler's and tell him the news. +The Dragon is too busy to miss us."</p> + +<p>The very thing! It would take only a few +minutes and would be something to do to pass +the time. Softly we slipped through the iron +gate; lightly we hastened along the shining wet +street; under the shadow of the Cathedral, whose +spire seemed to taper to the sky; down narrow, +winding Henwood Street till we reached the cobbler's +shop.</p> + +<p>Martindale was standing in the open door his +face raised as though he were drinking in the +fragrance of the morning. A chorus of bird +song came from inside.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Mr. Martindale," Angel shouted.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose? Father's coming +home."</p> + +<p>"He'll be here In less than two hours," I +panted.</p> + +<p>The cobbler put a dark hand on a shoulder of +each. "That's grand news, little masters," he +said. "But I hope he won't take you so far away +that I shall never see you. The birds like you +too. They never sing so loud as when you are +in the shop."</p> + +<p>While he was speaking we heard footsteps coming +quickly down Henwood street around the corner. +They were quick, sharp footsteps that rang +on the frosty air. "It's curious," said the cobbler, +"how footsteps sound here. I think it's the +Cathedral walls that give that ringing sound."</p> + +<p>We turned to watch for the approaching pedestrian. +We wondered who he was that walked +with such an eager, springing step. He turned +the corner. He faced us. Then he laughed out +loud and said, "Hello!"</p> + +<p>We were, for a second, simply staggered. We +made incoherent noises like young animals. +Then we were snatched by rough tweed arms, a +small, stiff moustache rasped our cheeks, +and—"Father!" we squealed, at last, in chorus.</p> + +<p>"I found I could catch an early train," he said, +"so I just hopped on, for I was in a desperate +hurry to see you. What are you doing here, at +this hour?" He stared at the cobbler.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Martindale," I explained. "He +mends our boots, and tells us stories, and he's got +a bird named Coppertoes."</p> + +<p>"So you are a friend of my boys," said father. +"Ay. And they're grand little lads, sir. I +have a daughter of my own I'm very proud of, +sir. She was lost for seventeen years, and your +sons helped me to find her."</p> + +<p>His daughter came to the door then to call him +to breakfast. She had a yellow braid over each +shoulder, and Coppertoes was sitting on her wrist +with a piece of chickweed in his bill. Father +stopped to admire them both.</p> + +<p>"By George," he said, when we had left them, +"if all your friends are as interesting as those, I +should like to meet them."</p> + +<p>"They are that," I said, happily, "and here's +another of them."</p> + +<p>It was Granfa, standing at the gate, his blue +eyes staring with amazement. He raised his +broom to his shoulder and stood at attention as +we drew near.</p> + +<p>"What a sight for the nation!" he exclaimed. +"Welcome home my dear son-in-law. I be terrible +proud to hand my charges over to 'ee. Us +have got along famous while you was over to +South Ameriky."</p> + +<p>I trembled for fear father should say something +to hurt Granfa's feelings, but he seemed to +understand him at once, and shook him by the +hand, and made him a present of some tobacco +on the spot.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>"Merciful Heaven!" screamed Mrs. Handsomebody. +"Davy!" "Mr. Curzon!" She +clutched her curl-papers in one hand and the +front of her purple wrapper in the other. "We +did not expect you for an hour yet."</p> + +<p>Father laughed. "Well, I've saved you some +of the trouble of preparing by coming early. +How very well you are looking. And how well-cared-for +the children. I'm delighted. I think +I shall take them over to the hotel where my +luggage has been sent and have a talk with them +and come back later. Will that suit you?"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Handsomebody insisted that he have +a proper breakfast, and installed us in the parlour +while she retired to assume the decent +armour of the day.</p> + +<p>Father sat facing the stuffed birds. He put +The Seraph on his knee, and Angel and I hung +on either side of him. We were suddenly shy of +him, and it seemed enough to be near him, and to +feel the all-surrounding power and protection of +him. His cheeks were incredibly sun-browned, +with a ruddy glow beneath; his moustache and +the hair at his temples were almost golden. I +liked the greenish grey of his tweed suit that +seemed to match his clear, wide-open eyes.</p> + +<p>He made a wry face at the stuffed birds and +then he whispered: "Old chaps, have you been +happy here?"</p> + +<p>We nodded. The past was gone. What did +it matter! "Oh, but, we want to be wiv you! +Don't leave us," breathed The Seraph, burrowing +his face into the rough tweed shoulder.</p> + +<p>Angel and I burrowed against him too. "Don't +leave us again," we whispered.</p> + +<p>He began to kiss us, and to rumple our heads, +and to bite The Seraph's cheek. The Seraph, +drunk with joy, jumped down, and pulling open +the door of the glass case tried to drag a lovebird +from its perch to present to father. We +were just able to stop him when our governess +returned.</p> + +<p>She was dignified and smiling, in black satin +and a gold chain. Mary Ellen had the breakfast +laid in the dining-room and we sat about him, +watching him eat. With what admiration we beheld +his masterful attack on the bacon and eggs! +It became awe when we saw the quantity of marmalade +that he spread upon his toast.</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Handsomebody beamed fatuously +at him!</p> + +<p>Between mouthfuls he talked. "Do you remember +how I used to call you Wiggie? And +the time I hid the white rat in your bonnet box?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Handsomebody cackled. The Seraph +kicked the table leg, unreproved. I drifted after +Mary Ellen to the kitchen. "Isn't he fine?" I +bragged.</p> + +<p>"Divil a finer," agreed she.</p> + +<p>"And 'tis yersilf, Masther John," she added, +"is the very spit av him. Shure it's you should +be the proud bye."</p> + +<p>"And, Mary Ellen, you are to come and live +with us, you know, and have all the 'followers' +you want."</p> + +<p>"Och," she laughed, "I'm done wid followers, +me dear. To tell ye the truth, Mr. Watlin and +I are plannin' to git hitched up, before the New +Year. An uncle of his have died and left him +enough to start him in the butcherin' business on +his own account. So maybe you'll dance at me +weddin' yet."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you a nice present, Mary Ellen, +dear," I promised, putting my arm around her.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she went on, squeezing me, "and the +cook next door was tellin' me last night, that the +word is goin' about that Miss Margery an' +Misther Harry is engaged too. So there's love +in the air, Masther John. D'ye mind the time +'twas yersilf was in love wid little Miss Jane? +Bless yer little heart."</p> + +<p>I fled back to the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen was now dispatched to blow her +whistle for a hansom, and almost before we realized +it we found ourselves rolling smoothly to the +hotel where father was to stay.</p> + +<p>Next, we were in his very room, exploring, +with adventurous fingers, all his admirable, +tobacco-smelling belongings. When his back was +turned, Angel even unsheathed his razor and +flourished it, for one hair-lifting second. But +father caught him and promised that he should +become acquainted with the razor-strop also, if +he grew too bold.</p> + +<p>We went out and bought chocolates and toys +and brought them back to his room to play with. +The morning passed in a delicious dream. Then +luncheon downstairs with him, the eyes of many +people on us.</p> + +<p>Among them I discovered, before long, the +laughing blue eyes of Lady Simon. She was not +looking at me, but very eagerly at father, as +though she were trying to make him see her. In +a moment she succeeded, and, without a word of +explanation to us he jumped up and strode across +to the table where she and Lord Simon sat. +The Seraph ran after him and was gathered into +her arms while she smiled and talked to father +over his curls.</p> + +<p>"Wonder if she's askin' him for another lapis +lazarus necklace," said Angel, his mouth full of +charlotte russe, "she'd better not, 'cos we're all he +can afford now."</p> + +<p>I did not like the idea either, so when father +came back with The Seraph hanging to his coat +tails, I remarked, with some asperity:</p> + +<p>"She said you nearly ruined yourself once to +buy her a pair of cream-coloured ponies."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and a lapis lazarus necklace," added Angel, +accusingly.</p> + +<p>"I want a cweam-culled pony!" shouted The +Seraph.</p> + +<p>Father leaned over us with almost the expression +of Mrs. Handsomebody in his eye.</p> + +<p>"You shall all have ponies," he said, "any old +colour you like, cream, or pink, or blue, if you'll +shut up and be good."</p> + +<p>Dazzled by the vision of a herd of rainbow-coloured +ponies we suffered ourselves to be led +in silence from the dining-room. Outside, father +said, still with the look of Mrs. Handsomebody +in his eye:</p> + +<p>"I have to make a call on a lady in Argyle +Road, my godmother. Do you feel prepared to +come, and be good boys, or shall I send you back +to your governess?"</p> + +<p>"Argyle Road!" exclaimed Angel. "That's +where Giftie lived."</p> + +<p>"Want to see Giftie!" came from The Seraph, +"and Colin."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to be good?"</p> + +<p>"Rather," said Angel. "Please take us."</p> + +<p>Another hansom was called. We were quite +prepared to see it stop before the large square +house where Giftie lived. It stopped. There +was a clamour of barks from three Scottish terriers +as we entered the gate. In a second I had +Giftie in my arms; her little, hard wriggling body +pressed to my breast; her little red tongue showing +between her pointed white teeth. She was +wild with the joy of welcoming us, but Colin +walked solemnly away, his tail very much in the +air. The third dog I felt sure was one of Giftie's +pups. "His name is Tam," shouted the tall grey-haired +lady, having suddenly appeared, and I +discovered then that we were in the drawing-room, +and pulled off my cap, and smiled up at her.</p> + +<p>"I've been saving him for you," she went on, +"hoping you would turn up. The other two are +sold. But Tam is for you boys, and oh, Davy," +turning to father, "you must let me have them +for Christmas. We shall have an enormous +Christmas Tree, and look! it's beginning to +snow."</p> + +<p>It was true. Great white flakes were softly +whirling past the windows, shutting us away from +the outer world. The fire seemed to burn the +brighter for them, the air seemed full of happiness +and gay adventure. We bent over our new possession +on the hearthrug in ecstasy. Tam, in ferocious +playfulness, tried to show us all part of his +body at once. But when we overcame him, and +pinned him down, he lay limply, with his tongue +out at one side, and the promise of many a future +romp in his roguish brown eyes. Giftie brought +a woollen bedroom slipper from upstairs to worry +for our amusement. Even Colin grew friendly. +The talk went on above our heads, the far-off +talk of grown-ups. But stay—it was not so incomprehensible +after all! What was it she was +saying? A pantomime! A deserving Charity. +Had tickets. Suppose we take the children. +Would it bore Davy? Davy said it wouldn't.</p> + +<p>Was all our new life to be a whirl like this? +Now we were back in the hansom cab bowling +through the madly dancing snowflakes. Now we +were back at Mrs. Handsomebody's having tea +with a double portion of jam; being scrubbed and +brushed, and warned of our behaviour, sliding +on the slippery soles of new boots; sniffing the +fresh linen of clean handkerchiefs; watching Mrs. +Handsomebody tie her bonnet strings with trembling +fingers.</p> + +<p>In a four-wheeler now, squeezed very closely +together; the wheels moving heavily through the +ever-deepening snow; lights flashing by the snowy +windows, father's leg and boot pressing against +me cruelly but giving a delicious sense of protection +and good fellowship. Then the blazing +light, and heat, and pressing crowd of the lobby; +a sense of terror lest the pompous man who took +tickets would refuse to accept those tendered by +father; immense relief, as a thin, bounding individual +led us down the sloping aisle. Father's +guiding hand on our shoulders; we were in our +seats.</p> + +<p>On my right sat father, and beyond him Angel. +On my left The Seraph and Mrs. Handsomebody, +her hands clasped tensely in her lap. But who +was that in the golden light beyond Angel? Who +indeed but our old friend Captain Pegg who had +come, it appeared, with Giftie's mistress. Lucky +Angel to be next him, laughing and whispering +with him! Then, lucky me to be pushed between +the seats to shake his hand.</p> + +<p>"Shiver my timbers, John," he whispered, "but +I have great days to tell you of! Days of +plunder and bloodshed, my hearty. I went back +to the old life, for a while, you know. Look +here!" He drew aside his coat and around his +waist I saw that he wore a belt of alligator skin +into which was thrust a curved and glittering +bowie knife!</p> + +<p>The curtain was going up. I was pulled back +into my seat. My pulses throbbed as scene by +scene the pantomime was disclosed before my +happy eyes. Here was I, John Curzon, part of +quite as good a play as yon. Pirates, love, fluttering +banners, swashbuckling clowns, life +stretched before me, a jolly adventure with Angel +and The Seraph always there to share the fun. +Now the Seraph's head had dropped to Mrs. +Handsomebody's lap. He was half asleep. Her +black kid hand patted his back. She was gazing +with a rapt smile at the stage.</p> + +<p>The pantomime was nearly over. The night +of danger and dark alarm was past. Rosy morning +broke upon the mountain side, and Columbine, +reclining in a pearl-pink shell, opened her eyes and +smiled upon a flowery world.</p> + +<p>I felt father's cheek against my head. His +hand covered mine. He whispered:</p> + +<p>"Happy, John?"</p> + +<p>I nodded, clutching his fingers. And so we +met the New Day together.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Explorers of the Dawn, by Mazo de la Roche + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXPLORERS OF THE DAWN *** + +***** This file should be named 25283-h.htm or 25283-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/2/8/25283/ + +Produced by Charlene Taylor, Matt Whittaker and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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