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diff --git a/25283.txt b/25283.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b73fcc7 --- /dev/null +++ b/25283.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7764 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Explorers of the Dawn, by Mazo de la Roche + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Explorers of the Dawn + +Author: Mazo de la Roche + +Release Date: May 2, 2008 [EBook #25283] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** 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) + + + + + +***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.*** + + + + +Explorers of the Dawn + + + + +_NEW BORZOI NOVELS SPRING, 1922_ + + +WANDERERS + _Knut Hamsun_ + +MEN OF AFFAIRS + _Roland Pertwee_ + +THE FAIR REWARDS + _Thomas Beer_ + +I WALKED IN ARDEN + _Jack Crawford_ + +GUEST THE ONE-EYED + _Gunnar Gunnarsson_ + +THE GARDEN PARTY + _Katherine Mansfield_ + +THE LONGEST JOURNEY + _E. M. Forster_ + +THE SOUL OF A CHILD + _Edwin Bjoerkman_ + +CYTHEREA + _Joseph Hergesheimer_ + +EXPLORERS OF THE DAWN + _Mazo de la Roche_ + +THE WHITE KAMI + _Edward Alden Jewell_ + + + + +Explorers of the Dawn + +by Mazo de la Roche +With a Foreword by +Christopher Morley + +New York +Alfred A Knopf +1922 + + +_Published February, 1922_ +_Second Printing, March, 1922_ +_Third Printing, May, 1922_ + + +_Set up, electrotyped, and printed by the Vail-Ballou Co., Binghamton, +N. Y. Paper supplied by W. F. Etherington & Co., New York, N. Y. Bound by +the Plimpton Press, Norwood, Mass._ + +MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + + _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._ + + _M. de la R._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I BURIED TREASURE 15 + + II THE JILT 52 + + III EXPLORERS OF THE DAWN 76 + + IV A MERRY INTERLUDE 99 + + V FREEDOM 127 + + VI D'YE KEN JOHN PEEL 160 + + VII GRANFA 187 + + VIII NOBLESSE OBLIGE 219 + + IX THE COBBLER AND HIS WIFE 250 + + X THE NEW DAY 276 + + + + +_FOREWORD_ + +_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._ + +_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 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._ + +_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_ must _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._ + +_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."_ + +_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._ + +_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 emigres look back to it tenderly, yet without too poignant +regret--the Almost Forgotten Land of childhood._ + +CHRISTOPHER MORLEY. + + + + +_Chapter I: Buried Treasure_ + + +I + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +II + +It was Saturday morning, and we three were in Mrs. Handsomebody's +parlour--Angel, and The Seraph, and I. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 antennae. 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. + +"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!" + +She made a few more passes with her broom and then sighed. + +"I think I'll soon be lavin' this place," she said. + +A vision of the house without the cheering presence of Mary Ellen rose +blackly before us. We crowded round her. + +"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." + +Now Angel knew whereof he spoke, for Mary Ellen's "followers" were a bone +of contention between her and her mistress. + +"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. + +We ran to the window and looked out but no sooner had we looked out than we +whistled with astonishment at what we saw. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I liked the old gentleman from the start. + +"Oo-o! See the funny old man!" giggled The Seraph. "Coat like Jacob an' his +bwethern!" + +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. + +"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." + +At that moment the old gentleman perceived that he was watched, and +saluting Mary Ellen gallantly, he called out: + +"Good-morning, madam!" + +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. + +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. + +A bond of understanding seemed to be established between us at once. + +The voice of Mary Ellen broke in on my reverie. She was teasing Angel to +sing. + +"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!" + +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. + +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." + +Tum-te-tum-te-tum, strummed Angel. + + "Casey would waltz with the strawberry blonde, + And the--band--played--on." + +His sweet reedy tones thrilled the April air. + +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. + + "Casey would waltz with th' strawberry blonde, + And--the--band--play--don!" + +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. + +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!! + +Angel and Mary Ellen had just given their last triumphant shout, when Mrs. +Handsomebody said in a voice of cold fury: + +"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!" + +We did so tremblingly. + +"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!" + +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. + + +III + +Angel and I scurried up the stairway. We could hear The Seraph panting as +he laboured after us. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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! + +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. + +"Get up!" he commanded The Seraph, who obeyed wonderingly. + +"Now, my man," continued Angel, with the scowl that had made him dreaded +the South Seas over, "have you anything to say for yourself?" + +The Seraph hung his head. + +"I was on'y danglin' a bit o' stwing," he murmured. + +"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 _anything_--so there!" + +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. + +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. + +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! + +We turned to look at him. His face was pressed to the window, and again he +giggled rapturously. + +"What's up, kid?" we demanded. + +"Ole Joseph-an'-his-Bwethern," he sputtered, "winkin' an' wavin' hands wiv +me!" + +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. + +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. + +At last the window rose, protesting and creaking, and the next moment we +were face to face with our new acquaintance. + +"Hello!" he said, in a loud jovial voice. + +"Hello!" said we, and stared. + +He had a strong, weather-beaten face, and wide-open light eyes, blue and +wild as the sea. + +"Hello, boy!" he repeated, looking at Angel, "What's your name?" + +Now Angel was shy with strangers, so I usually answered questions. + +"His name," I replied then, "is David Curzon but mother called him Angel, +so we jus' keep on doing it." + +"Oh," said the old gentleman. Then he fixed The Seraph with his eye. +"What's the bantling's name?" + +The Seraph, mightily confused at being called a bantling, giggled inanely, +so I replied again. + +"His name is Alexander Curzon, but mother called him The Seraph, so we jus' +keep on doing it too." + +"Um-hm," assented the old gentleman, "and you--what's your name?" + +"John," I replied. + +"Oh," he said, with an odd little smile, "and what do they keep on calling +_you_?" + +"Just John," I answered firmly, "nothing else." + +"Who's your father?" came the next question. + +"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." + +Our new friend nodded sympathetically. Then, quite suddenly, he asked: + +"Where's your mother?" + +"She's in Heaven," I answered sadly, "she went there two months ago." + +"Yes," broke in The Seraph eagerly, "but she's comin' back some day to make +a _weally_ home for us!" + +"Shut up!" said Angel gruffly, poking him with his elbow. + +"The Seraph's very little," I explained apologetically, "he doesn't +understand." + +The old gentleman put his hand in the pocket of his dressing-gown. + +"Bantling," he said with his droll smile, "do you like peppermint +bull's-eyes?" + +"Yes," said The Seraph, "I yike them--one for each of us." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Blind--blind--blind!" echoed the starling briskly, "blind--blind--blind!" + +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!" + +We three were entranced; and an idea that was swiftly forming in my mind +struggled for expression. + +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. + +"Did you--" I began, "did you--" + +"Well?" he encouraged. "Did I what, John?" + +"Oh, did you," I burst out, "ever see a pirate ship, an' pirates--real +ones?" + +His face lit up. + +"Surely," he replied casually, "many an one." + +"P'raps--" ventured Angel, with an excited laugh, "p'raps you're one +yourself!" + +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-- + +"That I am. Pirate as ever was!" + +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-- + +"I yike piwates!" + +"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." + +Then he added hastily, as though he feared he had gone too far: + +"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 archaeologist. It'd be an awful shock to them to find that I'm +a pirate." + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +"However did you guess it first?" I asked admiringly. + +"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?" + +"An' wouldn't Mary Ellen be scared stiff if _she_ knew?" + +"An' won't we have fun? Hurray!" + +We rolled in ecstasy on the much-enduring bed. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"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'm_ nervous." + +"Don't you worry, old man," Angel responded, gaily, "we'll take care of +you." + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +IV + +The next day was Sunday. + +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. + +Suddenly The Seraph spoke in that cock-sure way of his. + +"There's a piwate at Peggs." + +Mrs. Handsomebody looked at him sharply. + +"What's that?" she demanded. At the same instant Angel and I kicked him +under cover of the table. + +"What did you say?" repeated Mrs. Handsomebody sternly. + +"Funny ole gennelman at the Cwibbage Peggs," replied The Seraph with his +mouth full. + +Mrs. Handsomebody greatly respected Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer Pegg, and this +play of words on the name incensed her. + +"Am I to understand Alexander," she gobbled, "that you are making _game_ of +the Mortimer Peggs?" + +"Yes," giggled the wretched Seraph, "it's a cwibbage game. You play it wiv +Peggs." + +"Leave the table instantly!" ordered Mrs. Handsomebody. "You are becoming +unbearable." + +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. + +"Mary Ellen, remove that dumpling!" commanded Mrs. Handsomebody. + +Angel and I began to eat very fast. There was a short silence; then Mrs. +Handsomebody said didactically: + +"The elder Mr. Pegg is a much travelled gentleman, and one of the most +noted archaeologists of the day. A trifle eccentric in his manner perhaps +but a deep thinker. David, can you tell me what an archaeologist is?" + +"Something you pretend you are," said Angel, "and you ain't." + +"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." + +We found The Seraph lounging in a chair in the schoolroom. + +"Too bad about the dumpling, old boy," I said consolingly. + +"Oh, not too bad," he replied. "Mary Ellen fetched it up the backstairs to +me. I'm vewy full." + +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. + +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. + +He seemed delighted to see us. + +"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 archaeologist--to stretch my mental legs, as it were. +Well--have you taken your bearings this morning?" + +"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?" + +"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. + +"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. + +"'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!' + +"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. + +"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." + +As the sound of his deep voice ceased, we three were silent also, gazing +longingly into his eyes that were so like the sea. + +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!" + +A droll smile flickered over the bronzed features of Captain Pegg. He +brought down his fist on the window-sill. + +"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!" + +"Mrs. Handsomebody's back yard!" We chanted the words in utter amazement. + +"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!" + +He smiled benignly on us. I longed to hug him. + +The March wind swooped and whistled down the alley, and the starling gave +little sharp twittering noises and cocked his head. + +"When, oh when--" we burst out--"tonight? May we search for it tonight, +Captain Pegg?" + +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!" + + +V + +At dinner that day the rice pudding had the flavor of ambrosia. By +nightfall preparations were already on foot. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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 archaeologist business." + +"Couldn't you hide it under your bed?" I suggested. + +"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." + +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. + +With the addition of four crullers and a slab of cold bread pudding filched +from the pantry, our preparations were now complete. + +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." + +The next moment we had dived under the bed clothes and snuggled there in +wild expectancy. + +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. + +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. + +I was on my feet in an instant. I shook Angel's shoulder. + +"Up with you!" I whispered, hoarsely. "The hour has come!" + +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. + +The hands of the clock pointed to ten minutes to twelve. + +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. + +The Seraph and I went unadorned, save that he girt his trusty sword about +his stout middle and I carried a toy bayonet. + +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. + +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. + +And when the moonlight shone upon us in the yard!--oh, the delicious +freedom of it! We hopped for joy. + +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. + +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. + +He smiled broadly when he saw us. + +"Well, if you aren't armed--every man-jack of you--even to the bantling!" +he cried. "Capital!" + +"My sword, she's _weal_," said The Seraph with dignity. "Sometimes I fight +giants." + +Captain Pegg then shook hands with each of us in turn, and we thrilled at +being treated as equals by such a man. + +"And now to work!" he said heartily. "Here is the plan of the yard as sent +by Jenks." + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Captain Pegg dropped to his knees and with his hand explored cautiously +under the planks. His face fell. + +"Shiver my timbers if I can find it!" he muttered. + +"Let me try!" I cried eagerly. + +Both Angel and I thrust our hands in also and fumbled among the moist lumps +of earth. I felt an earth-worm writhe away. + +Captain Pegg now lighted a match and held it in the aperture. It cast a +glow upon our tense faces. + +"Hold it closer!" implored Angel. "This way--right here--don't you see?" + +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. + +Now, kneeling as we were, we stared up in Captain Pegg's face. His wide, +blue eyes had somehow got a different look. + +"Little boys," he said gently, "open it!" + +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. + +We squatted on the boards around it, our heads touching, our wondering eyes +filled with the magic of it. + +"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?" + +Captain Pegg, squatting like the rest of us, ran his hands meditatively +through the strange collection. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"David! John! Alexander!" gobbled Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"Now what d'ye think of that!" came from Mary Ellen. + +"Father! Have you gone quite mad?" cried Mrs. Pegg. + +And--"Oh, I say Governor--" stammered the gentleman with the revolver. + +Captain Pegg rose to his feet with dignity. + +"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!" + +Mr. Pegg was bent over the treasure. + +"Now, look here, sir," he said, rather sharply, "some of this seems to be +quite valuable stuff--" + +"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." + +"Whatever are you rigged up like that for?" demanded his daughter-in-law. + +"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." + +"I think," said our governess, "that, considering it is _my_ back yard, I +have some claim to--" + +"None at all, Madam--none at all!" interrupted Captain Pegg. "By all the +rules of treasure-hunting, the finder keeps the treasure." + +Mrs. Handsomebody was silenced. She did not wish to quarrel with the Peggs. + +Mrs. Pegg moved closer to her. + +"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." + +"Hold your tongue, Sophia!" shouted Captain Pegg loudly. + +Mr. Mortimer Pegg looked warningly at his wife. + +"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. + +Captain Pegg shook hands grandly with Angel and me, then he lifted The +Seraph in his arms and kissed him. + +"Good-night, bantling," he said, softly. "Sleep tight!" + +He turned then to his son. "Mort," said he, "I haven't kissed a little boy +like that since you were just so high." + +Mr. Pegg laughed and shivered, and they went off quite amiably, arm in arm, +Mrs. Pegg following, muttering to herself. + +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!" + +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. + +"I shall write to your father," she said, severely, "and tell him the whole +circumstance. _Then_ we shall see what is to be done with _you_, and with +the _treasure_." + +With this veiled threat she left us. We snuggled our little bodies +together. We were cold. + +"I'll write to father myself, tomorrow, an' 'splain everything," I +announced. + +"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." + +"I'll be an engineer just the same," said I. + +"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." + + + + +_Chapter II: The Jilt_ + + +I + +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. + +"And they do say," Mary Ellen declared, "that he's no more fit to be +wanderin' about the world alone than a babe unborn." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +All three of us were permitted by Mrs. Handsomebody to join the Cathedral +choir. + + +II + +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. + +We stared fascinated. Then Angel blew out his lips in disgust, and said-- + +"Ain't girls the most sickenin' things?" + +"There she goes again, messing with the doll's quilt," I agreed. + +"Le's fwow somefing at her!" suggested The Seraph. + +"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." + +"I s'pose she's a spoiled child," said The Seraph, dreamily. "Wonder where +her muvver is." + +"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!" + +We did. + +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. + +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! + +"Let's draw the blind!" said Angel. "She shan't see us! Then we can peek +through the crack and watch her." + +But no sooner was the blind pulled down than we heard our governess coming +and flew to our seats. + +"Boys!" she gobbled, stopping in the doorway, "what does this mean? The boy +who pulled down that blind stand up!" + +Angel rose. "The light hurt my eyes," he lied feebly, "I aren't very well." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +From this vantage point I scanned the surrounding country for signs of the +interloper. There she was! There she was! + +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. + +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. + +I sauntered then to her side, and gazed at her moodily. If she saw me she +gave no sign. + +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. + +"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!" + +Mutely I squatted beside her, and our two faces peered at each other in the +mirror of the pool. + +She gave a funny eager little laugh. + +"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." + +"My eyes are grey, like father's," I objected. + +"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. + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +My companion returned and sat down with her slim body close to mine. + +"What is your name?" she cooed. + +"John." + +"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?" + +"Angel and The Seraph. _They don't_ like girls." Instantly I wondered why I +had said that. Did I like girls? _Not much._ But I didn't want Angel +interfering in this. He had better keep away. + +"My father is a judge. He sends bad men to prison." + +"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." + +"What's canyons? Hold Dorothea tighter." + +I explained canyons at length. + +"P'raps I'll take you with me," I added weakly. + +She clapped her hands rapturously. + +"Oh, what fun!" she gurgled. "I can keep house and hang my washing 'cross +the canyon to dry!" + +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. + +"Yes," she prattled on, "I'll wheel Dorothea up and down the bridge and +watch you work." + +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. + +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. + +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, + +"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." + +I felt that she couldn't tell me anything about frail little girls, but I +kept my knowledge to myself. The Seraph said-- + +"Was you ever a fwail little gel, Mrs. Handsomebody?" Our governess fixed +him with her eye. + +"I was a most decorous and obedient little girl, Alexander, and asked no +impertinent questions of my elders." + +"Was Mary Ellen a fwail little gel?" persisted The Seraph. + +"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." + +"I yike wiotous wude people," said The Seraph with his face in the tumbler; +the milk trickled down his chin. + +"Leave the table, Alexander," commanded Mrs. Handsomebody, "your conduct is +quite inexcusable." The Seraph departed, weeping. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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-- + +"I wish _you_ had got the chair, John. I love you best of all." + +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. + +At last I got out desperately: + +"Mary Ellen, what is love like?" + +"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. + +"Oh, _you_ know," I persisted, "'cos you've been in it, often. You've had +lots of 'followers' now, Mary Ellen, haven't you?" + +"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." + +"But what's it _feel like_?" I probed. + +Mary Ellen wiped the flour off each red finger in turn, and gazed into the +flame of the lamp. + +"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." + +"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. + +"And who might Jane be?" demanded Mary Ellen, suspiciously. + +"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. + +"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." + +I licked pensively at the big wooden spoon, and felt strangely soothed. My +admiration for Mary Ellen increased. + +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. + +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. + +I stood before Angel with folded arms. + +"Hm," he muttered crossly, "you've been lickin' batter! It's on the end of +your nose. Why didn't you get me something?" + +"There was nothing but dough," I explained, "and one batter spoon. +And--and--I say, Angel--" + +"Well?" asked my elder tersely. + +"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 _never_, _never_, forget, an'--It's +made a 'normous difference in my life, Angel--" + +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. + +"It's that yellow-faced little Jenny!" he gurgled, "Oh, holy smoke!" + +His brutal mirth was short-lived. Mrs. Handsomebody appeared in the +doorway, her face genuinely shocked at the sight that met her austere eyes. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +III + +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. + +Angel had a voice like a flute. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +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! + +"What's that, Alexander?" questioned Mrs. Handsomebody, sharply. + +"It's love," replied The Seraph, meekly, "you catch it off a girl. John's +got it." + +Mrs. Handsomebody sank back in her chair with a groan. + +"Alexander," she said it solemnly, "I _tremble_ for your future. You are +not the boy your father was. I tremble for you." + +"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.'" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Where's Angel?" I demanded curtly. + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +I saw Jane there, and my heart swelled with disappointment and rage--for +she was not alone! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Then, suddenly, Angel began to hammer my hand with his fist. + +"You let go of that!" he snarled. "Ge--tout of here!" + +"I won't!" I roared tragically. "She said I was the fa-ather of it!" + +"She did not!" yelled Angel. "I'm the father!" + +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_ don't want you. I only like Angel." + +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. + +Before I reached our own yard Angel came running after me. + +"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?" + +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. + +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. + +We searched among the debris 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. + +With ring of shield we clashed together. I delivered--and +received--stunning blows. Dust, long undisturbed, rose, and blinded us. + +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. + +"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. + +"It was a tournament, Mary Ellen, about a lady," I explained, with as much +dignity as I could muster, "you shouldn't have interrupted." + +"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. + +"Ouch!" moaned Angel, "oh, Mary El-len, you're _hurting_ me! That's my +so-ore spot, eeeoow!" + +"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." + +In a chastened mood we sat outside the back door and ate our pudding. It +was cold, clammy, very sweet, and deliciously satisfying. + +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. + +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. + +"I say--" he hunched his shoulders mischievously--"let's go 'round and see +what she's doin' all alone, eh?" + +I leaped to the proposal. I had an insatiable desire to hear her speak once +more, if it were only to taunt me. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +We strained our ears to hear what was being said. Jane spoke in that +silvery voice of hers: + +"Say some more drefful things, Seraph. I jus' love to hear you." + +There was a moment's silence; then, The Seraph said in his blandest tone, +the one word-- + +"Blood!" + +Jane gave a tiny, ecstatic shriek. + +"Oh, go on!" she begged, "say more." + +"Blood," repeated The Seraph, firmly, "Hot blood--told blood--wed +blood--thick blood--thin blood--bad blood." + +Again Jane squealed in fearful pleasure. + +"Go on," she urged. "Worser." + +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!" + +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? + +"I _hate_ those other boys, Seraph, darling. Let's jus' you and me play +together always. And you should be Dorothea's _father_, and Dorothea should +want to paddle in the--" + +Away! Away! With sardonic laughter, we sped along the pebbled drive, nor +stopped until we reached our own domain. + +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. + +"Chuck 'em overboard, lieutenant!" was Captain Angel's way of dealing with +the case. + +Just as the Cathedral clock struck five, The Seraph swaggered up. He +stopped before us, hands deep in pockets. + +"Well," said Angel, eyeing him resentfully, "you'll make a nice bishop, you +will, usin' the language we heard a bit ago!" + +"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." + + + + +_Chapter III: Explorers of the Dawn_ + + +I + +Fast on the winged 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Bishop," he said, politely, but firmly. "I would yike a little nushment." + +"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?" + +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. + +I think it was Angel who put the question that was to lead to so much that +was exciting and mysterious. + +He said, leaning against the Bishop's shoulder: "What do you think is the +most beautiful thing in the world, Bishop?" + +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." + +The Seraph felt for it. + +"I yike it," he said, "but I yike my wart better." + +"Good gracious," exclaimed the Bishop. "Don't tell me _you've_ a wart!" + +"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. _It +can wiggle._" + +"You don't say so!" said the Bishop, rather hastily. "And where do you +suppose you got it?" + +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--" + +"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!" + +"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." + +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 _ever_ +forget." + +"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--"_It's the Dawn._" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Must we get up in the dark?" + +"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." + +"Not me," asserted The Seraph, stoutly. "I'm stwong as two ephelants." + +"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."... + + +II + +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. + +We were no sooner at home again than we set about discussing ways and +means. + +"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." + +"I'll take first watch!" put in The Seraph, eagerly. + +"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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"You go to sleep, please John," whispered Angel in a drowsy voice, "and +I'll watch till ten." + +I felt drowsy too, so I put my arm about the slumbering Seraph and soon +fell fast asleep. + +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. + +"Second watch on deck!" whispered Angel, hoarsely--"and look lively!" + +"But I'd only just put my spoon in the strawberry ice," I moaned. "Can't be +ten minutes yet." + +"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." + +"I'll just see for myself," I declared. "I'll go and look at the schoolroom +clock." And I began to scramble over him. + +"You will not then--" muttered Angel, clutching me. "I shan't let you!" + +"You won't, eh? If it's really ten you needn't care, need you!" + +"Course it's ten--It's nearer eleven, but you're going to do what I say." + +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. + +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? + +I turned to look at Angel. He was staring at the slanting beam and swearing +softly, as he well knew how. + +"We'll simply have to try again"--I said. "But however are we going to put +in today?" + +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!) _bed_. + +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. + +"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." + +The Seraph, important, but sleepy, climbed over me, so that he might be in +the middle, and then began, in a husky little voice: + +"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--" + +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. + +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.... + +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! + + +III + +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. + +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. + +The Seraph and I pressed close behind Angel, glad of the warm contact of +each other's bodies. + +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. + +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. + +"Is this the Dawn?" came from The Seraph, in a tiny voice. + +"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." + +"Will they be afwaid of the Dawn, when it comes?" + +"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." + +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." + +"That's not the Dawn," said Angel, "that's the night flying away." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +A low whistle drew me to his side. + +"What's up?" I demanded. + +"Got this little old trunk open at last," he muttered, "full of women's +junk. Funny stuff. Look." + +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. + +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!" + +My brother was looking over my shoulder now. We were filled with +conjecture. + +"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--_somewheres_. Isn't it queer?" + +The Seraph's voice came from the window in a sort of chant: + +"The little white star has fallen down the cobbler's chimney! + +"It has fallen down, and the cobbler is sewing it into a shoe! + +"A milkman is wunning down the stweet! + +"Tell you what," whispered Angel, "I'll show you what Lucy was like--just a +little. I'll make a picture of her." + +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. + +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! + +"It is here!" chanted The Seraph. "Evwy bit of evwy fing is shinin'! Oh, +Angel an' John, _please_ look!" + +We flew to the window and leaned across the sill. + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +As a matter of fact, the door _did_ open and--Mrs. Handsomebody walked in. + + +IV + +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. + +"You--and you--and you--" she gobbled. "Oh, to think of it! No place safe! +What you need is a _strong_ man. _We_ shall see! The very windows--burst +from their bolts!" She slammed the casement and secured it, Angel and The +Seraph darting from her path. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +Angel looked at his hands. "Nuffin' to explain," he said sulkily. "Just +went an' did it." + +"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 _crushed_ man. A _crushed man_." + +The Seraph was staring at her chin. + +Then--"I have one too," he said gently. + +"One _what_?" 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?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"Did either of you see _her_?" + +"Who?" + +"Lucy, sitting there in the chair." + +Angel's brown eyes were blank. + +"I saw her _clothes_. 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.) + +"Did _you_ see her, Seraph?" + +The Seraph was sitting on the floor, his head on his knees. He raised a +tear-flushed face. + +"I'm 'most too cwushed to wemember," he said, huskily. "But I _fink_ Lucy +was fat. It's a vewy bad fing to be fat, 'cos the cane hurts worser." + +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! + +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? + +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. + +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. + +"One fing about Lucy," he said, "she was always sweet-tempud." + +"Who?" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"Lucy--" repeated The Seraph. "Such a sweet-tempud gell." + +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! + + + + +_Chapter IV: A Merry Interlude_ + + +I + +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. + +It was the fifth, and Angel chanted in that flute-like treble of his, that +made passersby turn and smile at him: + + "Remember, remember the fifth of November, + Gunpowder, treason and plot--" + +Then The Seraph added his little pipe: + + "I see no weason why gunpowder tweason + Should ever be forgot." + +Then we shouted it all together. + +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. + +"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." + +"Why don't you put him out," suggested The Seraph. + +Mr. Pegg eyed him severely, yet I thought I perceived a twinkle in his eye. + +"It's Guy Fawkes day," I explained. "You see, it must never be forgot." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Not a bit," said Angel cynically, "she knows they'll spoil our appetite +for tea." + +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. + +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. + +The Seraph's look of pity deepened to horror. "You must be almost weady," +he gasped. + +"Ready? Ready for what, my little love?" + +"Stickin'--oo, will it hurt vewy much?" + +"Bless the child. What _does_ he mean?" + +"He's not very well," I explained. "I think he's delirious." + +"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. + +"Dorg's 'ere again," he said, laconically. "Nosin' abaht in the gabbage +'eap." + +"Tie a can on 'is tile," said the grocer. + +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. + +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. + +"Ow," yelled the boy, doubling up, "'e's bit me sumpfin' cruel! You see if +I daon't brain 'im for that!" + +He snatched up an axe and brandished it. The terrier dropped its sausage +and showed its little pointed teeth. + +We three, with one impulse, flung ourselves between it and the boy. + +"You dare touch that dog," shouted Angel. + +"Oo's goin' to stop me, Mister Nosey Parker?" sneered the boy, with a +flourish of his axe. + +"I am," said Angel, "'cos it's _my_ dog, see?" He coolly turned his back on +the boy and bent over the terrier, who came to him cautiously, sniffing his +legs. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +When we reached our own quiet street we stopped. The Seraph looked in the +bag of buns. + +"May I give him mine?" he asked. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +The next instant the front door was thrown open, and Mary Ellen, her cap +askew, dashed down the steps to meet us. + +"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' _she_ 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!" + +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. + +Mary Ellen was genuinely shocked. + +"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; + +"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. + +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. + +"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!" + +"If you don't let me do this I'll never marry you, so there!" This from +Angel. + +"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." + + +II + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"But how did she tell you, Mary Ellen? Did she speak out loud?" We were +breathless with excitement. + +"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." + +It was a marvel. Oh, these were going to be great days! + +"If you're a lady-dog, wag your tail three times," I ordered, squatting to +peer into the sagacious brown eyes. + +Three times the stocky tail thumped the floor. + +Then Angel put the question, and was answered with equal promptitude. + +It was The Seraph's turn. With an insinuating smile he said: "If you are a +gennelman dog wag your tail fwee times." + +But before there was time for so much as one wag, Mary Ellen caught the +too-eager tail in a restraining grasp. + +"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." + +"Is it a vewy barkable dog?" queried The Seraph. + +"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." + +"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!" + +So Giftie she was, and, for a long three weeks, our joy and our delight. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"It was a marvel," she said afterwards, "how the scallywag did what she did +widout wakenin' _her_, 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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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--_they_ moved; _they_ 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. + +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. + +There we were found by Mr. Watlin. + +"'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. + +"Tails cut! Oh, no," I expostulated, "Giftie's tail isn't cut. Please +don't." + +"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." + +"But it'll hurt," pleaded The Seraph. Do you do it wif a knife?" + +"I _bites_ 'em orf," replied Mr. Watlin, laconically, "an' it don't 'urt a +bit." + +"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." + +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-- + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"'Tis herself is in the dining-room," she gasped. + +"Not Mrs. Handsomebody?" + +"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. + +This time we were safe, but there was tomorrow ahead, with certain +discovery. + +Mr. Watlin, propped in the open doorway, brought his ingenious mind to bear +upon the problem. + +"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?" + +"_Likely_, at _her_ age, in _December_!" sneered Mary Ellen. "Try again." + +"We might hold her under water in the bath-tub till Giftie would fish her +out," suggested Angel. + +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. + +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." + +We were thrilled by hope. "But where is the burglar?" + +"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?" + +Mystery brooded over the house of Handsomebody all that afternoon and +evening. We were allowed to have no finger in this portentous pie. + +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. + + +III + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +Mary Ellen met us in the dining-room, her face pale with excitement. + +"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--" + +Mrs. Handsomebody looked at her bereft sideboard, and dropped into a chair +with a gasp. + +"Are you _sure_ he's gone?" + +"Yes'm. I stuck me head out the windy and seen him." + +"You're a brave girl. Get me the bitters. Yes, and lock the door into the +scullery--stay, what dog was it that barked?" + +Mary Ellen hung her head. "The dawg the little boys have been keepin' this +bit while. It does no harm at all." + +Mrs. Handsomebody's face was a mask. She said composedly: "Well, get the +bitters and then bring in the dog." + +Mary Ellen did as she was bid. + +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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody regarded her sombrely. "May I ask how long you have +harboured this stray?" + +"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'." + +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?" + +"Horrors!" cried Mrs. Handsomebody, drawing back, as though the puppy were +a serpent. + +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. + +"I presume you have another?" said Mrs. Handsomebody in a controlled voice +but gripping the arms of her chair. + +Giftie brought the other. + +"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. + +"Silence!" rapped out Mrs. Handsomebody. "Mary Ellen, fetch _The Times_. +And just look in the scullery to see that all is quiet there. Fetch the bag +left by the robber." + +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. + +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 _The Times_. She ran a long white finger +down the Lost column. + +"Ah, here we are--" she announced, complacently--"Pay attention, boys," and +she read: + + "_Reward_ 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." + +"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!" + +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. + +Women! Tyrants! Mischievous busybodies! + +"When I'm a man," said Angel, suddenly, "I'll marry a woman, and I'll beat +her every day." + +"Me too!" cried The Seraph, stoutly, "I'll mawy two--fat ones--an' beat 'em +bofe." + +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. + + +IV + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Presently Mrs. Handsomebody spoke in her most decisive tones: + +"I fear I shall take a chill if I remain in this damp place. Come boys. +Mary Ellen, kindly reverse the chair!" + +The tall lady rose to her feet. + +"Oh, please, come in and have something hot, and tell me all about it. And +there's the reward." + +"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." + +"Your grandchildren?" questioned the tall lady abruptly. + +"My pupils, and, for the present, my wards," replied Mrs. Handsomebody +frigidly. + +"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?" + +"Oh, we love her," we chorused. + +"Would you like one of her puppies for your very own to keep?" + +Would we? We couldn't speak for longing. + +Mrs. Handsomebody spoke for us. + +"I allow no pets, canine or otherwise." + +The tall lady scowled. "But these are valuable dogs." + +"All dogs are alike to me. Canines." + +The tall lady gave something between a snort and a sigh. + +"Would you allow them to accept a sovereign apiece then?" + +"That would be permissible." + +"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. + +"Good-bye!" called the tall lady, "come again any time! Come and spend the +day with us!" + +Our governess called us peremptorily. She was half a block in advance. + +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?" + +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. + +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! + +He had chucked his sovereign down the sewer! + + + + +_Chapter V: Freedom_ + + +I + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Is that the way I have instructed you to enter the room where I sit?" +asked Mrs. Handsomebody sternly. + +"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. + +"You may take your seats," said Mrs. Handsomebody coldly, to us. + +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. + +"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!" + +Mrs. Handsomebody rose. + +"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 _remember_," 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." + +Picking up the telegram from the floor where it had fallen, Mrs. +Handsomebody slowly left the room, and closed the door behind her. + +"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!" + +"What _are_ the Channel Islands anyhow?" I asked to change the subject. +"I'd just got to Jersey, Guernsey, when I got stuck." + +"Jersey, Guernsey, Sweater, Sock and Darn," replied my elder, emphasizing +the last named. + +"_Was_ the telegram from father?" interrupted The Seraph. "Is he comin' +home?" + +"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 _she_ had any people." + +"A whole day away," I mused, "it has never happened before." + +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. + +Of a sudden Angel threw his Geography into the air. His brown eyes were +sparkling. + +"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 _never_ was! We'll do every blessed thing we're s'posed not to! Most +of all--we'll _run the streets_!" + +At that instant, Mary Ellen opened the door and put her rosy face in. + +"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." + +"For who?" + +"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. + +Presently we heard the front door close. We raced to the top of the stairs. + +"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. + +"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!" + +"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 _we_ +mean to take a day off, so there!" He nodded his curly head defiantly at +her. + +"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." + +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. + +Angel sallied to the cupboard. "Bother!" he said, discontentedly, +investigating the cake-box, "that same old seedy-cake! Won't you _please_ +make us a treat today, Mary Ellen? Jam tarts or some sticky sort of cake +like you see in the pastry shop window." + +"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-- + +"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 _wan_ cup o' +tay, mind ye!" + +We shook our heads commiseratingly. Angel flicked his last caraway seed at +her-- + +"Well," he said, with a wink, "you gave him something better than tea--I +saw you!" + +"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' +_freedom_, d'ye see?" + +We were unanimous in our approval, The Seraph expressing his by a +somersault. + +"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." + +"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. + +"How could she?" we assured her. Every curtain would be drawn, and, +besides, Mrs. Handsomebody was not intimate with her neighbours. + +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. + +"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--" + +Angel cut her short with--"None of that Mary Ellen! This is _our_ 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. + +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! + + +II + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"You betta go home," he admonished, "your mamma not like." + +"We're going to run the streets today," I said, manfully, "Mrs. +Handsomebody is away at a funeral." + +"A funer-al," repeated Tony, "she know--about dis?" + +"No--" I replied, "but Mary Ellen does." + +"She a beeg lady--dis Marie Ellen?" + +"Oh, yes. She's awfully big. Bigger than you, and strong--" + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +At last Tony, looking down at us with a smile, said: + +"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." + +We, remembering the party, were nothing loath. Poor Mary Ellen would be in +a state by now, and our legs had almost given out. + +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. + +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. + +"This air stwikes cold on my legs," he murmured. + +I sat down beside him on the curb, and we snuggled together for warmth. + +"Never mind, old sport," I whispered cheerily. "Just think of the goodies +Mary Ellen's making for us! Pretty soon we'll be home." + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +"Ow! Ow! Wesley! Oo's got a red driver on 'is own?" shouted his comrades. +"Plug aw'y little 'un!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Tony began to offer incoherent explanations. + +"But who are they?" demanded the young man, "they don't seem to belong to +this street." + +"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!" + +"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?" + +"By George!" said the young man, "you made the claret flow!" + +"It took two of them to hold me or I'd have got back at him," said Angel. + +"It took fwee o' them to hold _me_," piped The Seraph, "or I'd have punched +evwybody!" + +"How did it start?" enquired the young man. + +"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." + +"Pet names _are_ a nuisance sometimes," said the young man, smiling, "I had +one once. It was John Peel. But no one calls me that now." + +"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!" + +"I'll walk along, too," said the young man, "I've nothing else to do." + +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. + +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. + +I was sorry when we reached Mrs. Handsomebody's front door. + +"Good-bye," he said, holding out his hand. + +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?" + +"Yes, and Tony can come too!" cried Angel. "We'll have a _regular_ party!" + +"Yes, yes, I will come to da party," said Tony, quickly, "I am vera hungry. +You will egsplain to Mees Marie Ellen, yes?" + +"John can 'splain _anything_," put in The Seraph. + +"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. + +"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. + +"Yes, yes," said Tony, "I will leave da organ out sida, but Anita mus' come +in. She is vera good monk in a party." + + +III + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +"But he's a gentleman, Mary Ellen!" I insisted. + +"Ay, an' the monkey's a lady, no doubt! I know the kind!" I had never seen +Mary Ellen so sour. + +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. + +"Good-evening to ye, Tony," said Mary Ellen, and then she turned to our new +friend. + +"I don't know how you call yourself, sir," she said, bluntly. + +"You may call me Harry, if you will," he replied, after a slight +hesitation. + +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?" + +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. + +"You shall see wot you shall see, and 'ear wot you shall 'ear," he replied. + +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. + +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. + +Mary Ellen placed a plateful of scraps on the floor before Anita. + +She said, "That ought to stand to her, pore thing! She do be awful ganted." + +"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?" + +Tony turned up his palms. + +"Oh, no, no, dey are not for a poor fella lak me!" + +"Watlin," said Harry, "did you say you were a Kent man?" + +"Ay, from Kent, the garden of England." + +"Are you related to Carrot Bill Watlin, then?" + +"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?" + +"I've seen him hundreds of times," said Harry. + +"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?" + +"Harry." + +"Ow, I meant your surnime." + +"Smith," said Harry, shortly. + +"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. + +"'Er brother is dead you s'y," reflected Mr. Watlin, "and 'ow hold a man +might 'e be?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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!" + +"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." + +"A little pinch of bi-carbonate of soder will hease that, my dear," said +her lover. + +"Please, _did_ you bring your fiddle, Mr. Watlin?" pleaded Angel, "won't +you play now?" + +"Ah, I lof da fiddle!" said Tony, caressing Anita's little head. + +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. + +"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!" + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +"I can play da fiddle a little," said Tony, as our artist paused for a +rest. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The music ceased. Harry had me in his arms. + +"What's wrong, old fellow, was it something in Tony's music that hurt?" + +I nodded, clinging to him. + +"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?" + +Tony only smiled at me. "I tink you like my music," he said. + +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. + +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: + +"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--" + +"Oh, I don't--" + +"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." + +"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, "I'm sorry, Harry! I like you awfully!" + +I gave him my hand and, hearing the voices of Mr. Watlin and Tony, he +hurried to the street. + +I stumbled sleepily into the kitchen. + +"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 _have_ had a day of it, haven't we? Thim oysters was the clane +thing!" + + +IV + +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. + +"I dare you," said Angel, "to open it and stick your head in." + +I was too drowsy to be timid. I turned the handle and opened the door far +enough to insert my round tow head. + +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. + +"You were afraid!" jeered Angel. + +"Not I. It was nothing to do." + +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! + +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. + +"Jist say ye've a bit of feverish cold if she remarks it," she cautioned, +"people often swells up wid colds." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +The Seraph was speaking. + +"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!" + +I trembled for him, but Mrs. Handsomebody, lost in thought, gave no heed to +him. + +At last she raised her eyes. + +"I hope you behaved yourselves well, and made profitable use of your time +during my absence?" + +We made incoherent murmurs of assent. + +"Name the Channel Islands, John." + +"Guernsey, Jersey, Alderney, Sark, and Herm," I replied glibly. So much had +I saved from the wreck of things ordained. + +"Correct. Are you through your dinners then? You may pass out. Ah, your +nose, John; it looks quite red. What caused that?" + +I said that I believed I had an inward burning fever. I had embellished +Mary Ellen's suggestion. + +"I hope you are not going to be ill," she sighed. + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"What's up? Did you blab? Whatever _did_ she say?" We hurled the questions +at him. + +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. + +Angel, in exasperation, took him by the collar. + +"You tell us why she kept you down there so long!" + +Thus cornered, The Seraph raised his large eyes to our inquiring faces with +great solemnity. + +"She kept me," he said, "to cuddle me, an' to give me this--" he showed a +white peppermint lozenge between his little teeth. + +To _cuddle_ him. Was the world coming to an end? + +"Yes," he persisted, "she kept me to cuddle me, an' she was cwyin'--so +there!" + +Mrs. Handsomebody crying! + +"It's about her dead brother, of course," said Angel. "That's why she +cried." + +"No," said The Seraph, stoutly. "He was a _man_, an' she was cwyin' about a +little _wee_ boy like me, she used to cuddle long ago!" + + + + +_Chapter VI: D'ye Ken John Peel?_ + + +I + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Hal-_lo_, John," he said. "What's the game this morning. Seafaring as +usual?" + +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. + +"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. + +"John!" he repeated. "What luck. I have been watching for you for days, you +little hermit!" + +"Watching for me, Harry?" + +"Yes," he proceeded, "and the one time I saw you, that starched governess +of yours had you gripped by the hand--" + +--"just like any old baby girl," I broke in. + +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? + +"John," he said, looking into my eyes: "You can help me if you will. We're +friends, aren't we?" + +I let him see that I was all on fire to help him, and it was then that he +made his wonderful suggestion. + +"Would it be possible to evade your governess long enough to come and have +a bite with me?" + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Harry, sitting opposite, eating with a gusto equal to my own, seemed to me +the most perfect and luckiest of mortals. + +"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?" + +He gave a short laugh. + +"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." + +"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." + +Harry stared hard at me. "What do you suppose," he asked, "she'll do to +you, for skipping dinner? Something pretty hot?" + +"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." + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Now--" Harry leant across the table, his eyes on mine, "What sort of +looking man would you expect my father to be, John?" + +I studied Harry and hazarded--"A brown face, and awfully thin, and greenish +eyes, and crinkly brown hair." + +"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!" + +"He sounds nice," I commented. + +"He is. Now what do you suppose my father _does_, John?" + +"Not a _pirate_!" but I said it hopefully. + +"Far from it. He's a bishop." + +"Hurray!" I cried. "Our best friend is a bishop. He lives right next door +to us." + +"The very man," said Harry. "He's my father." + +I was incredulous. + +"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." + +"Ay, but he's got me too," said Harry solemnly, "or, at least, he _should_ +have me. We're at the outs." + +"Well, then, all you have to do is to make friends, isn't it?" + +"Not so simple as it sounds," replied Harry gloomily. + +"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. + +"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." + +I thought: "When I'm a man I'll have a pipe like that, and hold it in my +teeth when I talk." + +Harry sat down on the side of his tumbled bed clasping an ankle. + +"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? + +"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. + +I leaned over the foot of the bed staring expectantly. + +"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!" + +"Oh, I wish he'd seen you!" I cried, "he'd have made it up like a shot." + +Harry blew a great cloud of smoke. "Well, I want to sneak back to him, +John--but--here's the rub--_perhaps Margery does not want me_." 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. + +"This is where you come in my friend. You'd like to help, wouldn't you?" + +I nodded emphatically. + +"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?" + +"Rather!" We shook hands on it. + +"But--" I asked, "when shall I see you? I daren't come here again, I'm +afraid." + +"Tomorrow is Saturday," he replied thoughtfully. "The Bishop will keep to +his study till noon--" + +"And Mrs. Handsomebody goes to market!" I chimed in. + +"Good. I'll be at the Cathedral corner at ten o'clock. Meet me there. Now +you'd better cut home." + +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. + +"Know your way home?" he demanded. "Right-o! I depend on you, John. And +mind you watch her face, _like a cat_. Good-bye!" And he affectionately +squeezed my arm. + + +II + +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. + +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. + +At first I only snivelled, but surrendered myself after a few successful +ventures, to a loud despairing roar. + +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. + +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. + +"Now," she said, in a voice of cold anger, "will _you_ be good enough to +explain your strange conduct? Where have you been all this while?" + +"Sittin' on the Cathedral steps," I sobbed. + +"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. _Where were you?_ +Answer truthfully or it will be the worse for you." + +"I h-hid when I saw him comin'," I stammered, "I was too s-sick to come +home." Surely this would affect her! + +She stared incredulously. "Sick! Where are you sick?" + +"All o-ver." + +"Take your hand from your eyes. What made you sick?" + +"I f-fell." + +"Fell!" her tone was contemptuous. "Where did you fall?" + +"D-down." + +Mrs. Handsomebody became ironical. + +"How _extraordinary_! I have never heard of people falling up." + +"They can fall out," interrupted Angel. + +Mrs. Handsomebody rapped her ruler in his direction. + +"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 _precisely_ what happened from the moment that you +ventured beyond the bounds I have prescribed for you." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +She closed the door with deliberate forebearance, then I heard the key +click in the lock and her inexorable retreating footsteps. + +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. + +A soft thumping on the panel of the door roused me at last. I felt stiff +and rather desolate. + +"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." + +"Where's _she_?" 'Twas thus we designated our governess. + +"Gone away out. Will you be a dwagon, John?" + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"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." + +But I caught her apron and held her fast. + +"Oh, don't go, Mary Ellen!" I begged, "I've something awfully interesting +to tell you. Do sit down!" + +"I will not thin. And you've nothin' to tell me that I haven't got be heart +already." + +"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. + +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. + +So while they clustered about me I told my whole adventure, ending with +Harry's plea that I interview Margery on his behalf. + +"It's a 'normous responsibility," I sighed. + +"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. + +"He's not a playboy," I retorted. "He's splendid--and _please_ 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." + +"Oh, she'll have him, no fear." This with a broad smile. + +"But I've got to _ask_ her. I promised. It's a 'normous responsibility. +Will you _please_ let me, Mary El-len?" + +"I will not," replied Mary Ellen, firmly. "It'ud be as much as my place is +worth." + +I began to cry. Angel came to the rescue. + +"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." + +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. + +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-- + +"What a welief!--" + +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. + +Margery was doing something to a bowl of roses but she looked up, startled +at my appearance. + +"Why, John!" she exclaimed, "what is the matter with you? Have you been +crying? Your face is awfully smudgy." + +"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." + +Margery looked just puzzled. + +"Harry! Harry who?" + +"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: + +"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--" + +"But you don't know him!" I interrupted. "He's splendid!" + +"I don't _want_ to know him," Margery persisted. "He's a very--" + +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-- + +"Well, you've got to know him! He's coming home tomorrow night. At seven. +He wants his bed got ready. So there." + +Margery sat down. She got quite red. + +"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she demanded. + +"'Cos I was breaking it to you gently, like they do accidents," I answered +calmly. + +Suddenly Margery began to laugh hysterically. She pressed her palms against +her cheeks and laughed and laughed. Then she said:-- + +"John, you're a most extraordinary boy." + +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." + +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." + +Outside, I divided the spoils with Angel. + +"Well--" he demanded, his mouth full of muffin--"shewanimbagagen?" + +"Rather," I cried, joyously. "I managed the whole thing. And we're to be +there at seven to see him come." + +We raced to the kitchen and told Mary Ellen, who was promptly impressed, +but The Seraph after a close scrutiny of us, said bitterly-- + +"There's cwumbs on your faces!" + +"Cwumbs on your own face, old sillybilly!" mocked Angel, "and what's more, +they're sugar cwumbs!" + + +III + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +"And did you tell him?" I asked rather plaintively, "that I had done the +whole thing?" + +"Course I did." + +"What did he say when you told him he was to come home?" + +"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!'" + +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. + +Came the hour at last. We set out holding each other by moist clean hands, +an admonishing Mrs. Handsomebody on the doorsill. + +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. + +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. + +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 role. 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. + +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. + +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: + +"Bishop, will you sing? Will you please sing us a nice old song 'stead of a +story? Sing 'John Peel,' won't you?" + +"Please sing 'John Peel'!" echoed The Seraph. + +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); + + "D'ye ken John Peel, with his coat so grey? + D'ye ken John Peel, at the break of day? + D'ye ken John Peel, when he's far, far away, + With his hounds and his horn in the morning?" + +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. + + "For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed, + And the cry of his hounds, which he oft-times led, + Peel's 'View halloo!' would awaken the dead, + Or the fox from his lair in the morning." + +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. + +"Good God!" exclaimed the Bishop. "Harry!" Then he put his arms around him +and kissed him. + +I threw a triumphant glance at Margery. It hadn't hurt the Bishop at all to +forgive Harry. + +"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." + +He and Margery gave each other a very funny look. I should like to have +heard their later conversation. + +"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. + +Margery herded us gently into the hall, and gave us each two chocolate +bars. + +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. + +As we waited for Mary Ellen, I said, suddenly to Angel: + +"Angel, what made you ask the Bishop to sing 'John Peel'? Did you know +Harry was going to sing in the hall?" + +"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?" + +Mary Ellen, opening the door at this moment, prevented a scuffle, though I +was in too happy a mood to quarrel with any one. + +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? + +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. + +The Seraph felt that he was being ignored, so when a pause came, he +remarked in that throaty little voice of his: + +"It's a vewy bad fing to be boiled in oil." + +"What's that?" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody. "Say that again!" + +"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 _ears was full of it_." + +Mrs. Handsomebody gripped the arms of her chair, and leaned towards him. + +"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." + +The Seraph stood, then, balancing himself on the rung of his chair, + +"'Once aboard the lugger,'" he sang out, slapping his plump little thigh, +"'and the gell is mine!'" + +Mrs. Handsomebody sank back in her chair. She said: + +"This is appalling. David--John--take your little brother to bed instantly! +Take him out of my hearing." + +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. + +When we had reached the top, he loosed himself from me and put his head +over the handrail. + +"'John Peel's View Halloo! would waken the dead'--" he roared down into the +hall. + +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. + +In a moment I felt my arm squeezed by Angel, who was pointing ecstatically +toward the bed. + +There, by the bedside, his dimpled hands folded, his curly head meekly +bent, knelt The Seraph. + +He was saying his prayers. + + + + +_Chapter VII: Granfa_ + + +I + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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: + +"He's a vewy nice man to take us fishin'. I wonder what made him do it." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Did you ever sit on the sting of an insect, please?" questioned The Seraph +eagerly. + +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." + +The Seraph, with folded hands and bent head, repeated glibly: + +"Accept our thanks, O Lord, for these Thy good cweatures given to our use, +and by them fit us for Thy service. Amen." + +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?" + +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. + +Eagerly we took our places in the choir stalls that morning. + +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. + +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: + +"--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. + +"You duffer," he whispered, "you've been nodding. Get your hymn book." + +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 _wear old +clothes_." + +The sails were filled, and he moved majestically away, towering above the +small craft around him. + + +II + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"If he could see a lady-worm he'd like," stipulated The Seraph. + +"He'd have a wide choice," said the Bishop. "The country is full of worms, +some of them charming, I daresay." + +"And, I say," chuckled Angel, "you could perform the ceremony--if only we +knew their names." + +"This is Charles Augustus," said The Seraph with dignity. + +"She'd likely be Ernestine," I put in. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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-- + + 'No fisher, + But a well-wisher + To the game!' + +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." + +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. + +"It was a 'normous lusty trout," he wailed, "as big as a whale, an' he +swallowed my grasshopper, an' hook, an' gave me _such_ a look! And I'd +pwomised him to Mary Ellen for her tea!" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +Angel soon tired when sport flagged. + +"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!" + +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! + + +III + +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. + +He was speaking in a full soft voice with an accent which was new to us. + +"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." + +"I fink he's weally my twout," said The Seraph. "I caught him first you +see." + +"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." + +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. + +"That trout," he said, "is so gleeful to get away from his captivity as I +be to escape from the work'us." + +"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. + +"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." + +"You're a funny man," said Angel. "You've a rum way of talking." + +"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." + +"You must be pretty old." + +"Old! I be so aged that I can remember my grandmother when she was but a +rosy-cheeked slip of a gal." + +We stared in awe before such antiquity. + +The Seraph ventured: "Did your grandmother put you in the work'us?" + +"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." + +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. + +"Are your own children all dead?" I put the question timidly, for I feared +to recall more filial ingratitude. + +"Dead as door-nails," he replied, solemnly. "All of them." + +"Were there many?" + +"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." + +"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." + +The Seraph ran off obediently, and it was not long till he re-appeared with +food and the dregs of the ale. + +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. + +At last, in a voice rich with emotion, he sang to a strange lilting tune: + + "I be in a terr'ble fix, + Wife have I and childer six. + + "I'd got married just for fun, + When in popped Baby Number one-- + + "I'd got an easy job to do, + When in strolled Baby Number Two-- + + "I was fishin' in the sea, + When up swum Baby Number Three-- + + "My boat had scarcely touched the shore, + When in clumb Baby Number Four! + + "I was the scaredest man alive, + When wife found Baby Number Five. + + "The cradle was all broke to sticks + When in blew Baby Number Six-- + + "And now I'm praying hard that Heaven + Will keep a grip on Number Seven." + +"And did Heaven keep a gwip on it?" inquired The Seraph as soon as the last +notes died away. + +"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?" + +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. + +"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." + +Our new friend shook his head doubtfully. + +"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." + +"Could Charles Augustus have a little of you?" asked The Seraph, sweetly. + +"Ess Fay, he may have his share." It appeared that the story of Charles had +been told before Angel and I had arrived. + +"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?" + +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." + +"It'll be the greatest lark ever," he said, "and here comes the Bishop." + +"Hand me my shoon, quick," said Granfa, nervously. + +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. + +So I rose, and met his enquiring look with such explanation as suited his +adult understanding. + +"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--" + +--"Fwee of 'em," put in The Seraph. + +--"And we were wondering," I hurried on, "if you'd give him a lift that +far." + +"I expect you're tired out," said the Bishop, kindly, turning to Granfa. + +"I be none too peart, but terrible wishful to get under the roof o' my +grandsons, thank 'ee." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"He's gone! He's gone!" wailed The Seraph. "He's wun away fwom her!" + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Ess fay," assented Granfa, "her'll get him, and hold him fast too, I'll be +bound. A terr'ble powerful worm." + +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. + +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. + + +IV + +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. + +"Better go round to the back," suggested Angel, "and tackle Mary Ellen +first." + +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. + +"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." + +"He's no tramp or beggar," I retorted, stoutly, "he's Granfa." + +"Granfa! Granfa who? Noan o' your nonsense, now, byes. What's the truth +now, spit it out!" + +"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--" + +"Known him for years," put in Angel. "Went to Harrow together." + +"Ess fay," assented Granfa, eagerly. "Us were boon companions up to +Harrer." + +"The Bishop brought him wight here in the pony twap," added The Seraph, +"and we'd all yike a little nushment, please." + +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. + +"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." + +Granfa appeared to have overheard, for he spoke up. + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Comfy, Granfa?" asked The Seraph. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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?" + + +V + +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. + +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. + +"Hurrah!" cried The Seraph, "let's get up!" And scrambled out of bed. + +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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody, in purple dressing-gown and red woollen slippers, stood +in a listening attitude, her gaze bent on the door that hid Granfa. + +"Are you aware of the hour?" she demanded peremptorily. "Rise at once and +open this door." + +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. + +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?" + +"I do feel far from peart," replied Granfa. + +"This is horrible. Did you feel it coming on?" + +"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." + +Mrs. Handsomebody looked ready to faint. + +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. + +The sight of her turned Mrs. Handsomebody's terror into rage. + +"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!" + +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." + +"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." + +Mrs. Handsomebody's gaze was appalling as she turned it on us three. + +"You? Your grandfather? What fresh insanity is this?" + +"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." + +"Won't have him abused," spluttered The Seraph. + +"Be rights," added Mary Ellen, solemnly, "he should have the best spare +room, the byes' own aged relation." + +"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." + +The Seraph obeyed, chuckling. "He's took to the bed again--all exceptin' +one leg--" + +"We can dispense with detail," cut in our governess. "Is he at all +violent?" + +"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." + +"The Bishop! I must see the Bishop instantly." + +As she spoke a stentorian shout of "Butcher!" came from the regions below. + +"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." + +She was obliged to retire hastily to her room because of the arrival of Mr. +Watlin. + +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. + +"And you mean to tell me that he's in there?" he asked, at last, grinning +broadly. + +"Sorra a place else," replied Mary Ellen, "and you're to guard the door +till the police comes." + +"Guard nothink," said Mr. Watlin, belligerently, "I'll go right in and +tackle him single-handed." + +With one accord The Seraph and I flung ourselves before the door. + +"You shan't hurt him," we cried, "he's our own Granfa! We'll fight you +first." + +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." + +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. + +"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. + +The Seraph and I kept close on either side of him, tightly holding his +hands. + +"She's in the parlour," I whispered, "and the Bishop's with her. Shall you +go in?" + +Granfa nodded solemnly. + +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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody had just finished her recital. "I thought I should have +swooned," she said. + +"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?" + +"Oh, parson, don't 'ee send me back to the work'us! If I bide there any +longer, 'twill break my fine spirit." + +"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--" + +"Gwandsons," said The Seraph. + +"Silence!" ordered Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"You would be near us all," finished the Bishop, blandly. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Once, standing before the stained glass window in memory of young Cosmo +John, Granfa said: + +"It beats all how thiccy lad does yearn toward me. His eyes follow me +wherever I go." + +"And no wonder, Granfa," cried The Seraph, throwing his arms around him, +"for everybody loves 'ee so!" + + + + +_Chapter VIII: Noblesse Oblige_ + + +I + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Yet, I had to admit, that if any one in the schoolroom played the role 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. + +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. + +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. + +"It's mediocre," he muttered. "Absolutely mediocre, and I won't stand it." + +_Mediocre._ 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. + +"Awfully mediocre," I assented. "And it can't be done." + +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"-- + +"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?" + +"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--" + +"Then there's undertakers," I broke in. "If a undertaker buried nine +corpses one day, and six and a half the next--" + +I had to stop, for Angel was convulsed with laughter, and The Seraph was +beginning to get noisy. + +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. + +"Me too!" cried The Seraph, and I held it to his eager little mouth. + +"Here," said Angel angrily, "he's swiggin' down the whole thing. Drop it, +young'un!" + +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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody sat down and disposed her skirt about her knees. Her eyes +travelled over us. + +"Alexander," she said to The Seraph, "stand up." He meekly rose. + +"What is that on your chin?" + +The Seraph explored his chin with his tongue. + +"It tastes sweet," he said. + +"I asked what is it?" + +The Seraph shot an imploring glance at Angel. + +"I fink," he hedged, "it's some of the gwavy fwom dinner left over." + +Mrs. Handsomebody turned to Angel and me. + +"Stand up," she commanded, sternly, "and we shall sift this matter to the +root." + +"Yes," admitted Angel, nonchalantly. "It was licorice root made into a +drink." + +"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--" + +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: + +"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. + +"I s'pose it's some more of the woot," giggled The Seraph. + +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. + +"Now," she gobbled, "go to your room and remain there till the exercises +are over, then return to me for punishment. _And_ change your trousers." + + +II + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I opened the door and closing it softly behind me, stood on the steps. + +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. + +"Well," he said, "you're a rum-lookin' pup." + +I was rather abashed at such a greeting, but I held my ground. "My name is +John," I replied simply. + +"Oh, Lord!" he groaned. "_John!_ 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." + +"His surname is Curzon, too," put in Angel, "same as mine." + +"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. + +"I say," said Angel, "you let him alone!" And I ran down the steps. The boy +stared. + +"Don't you keep him in order?" he asked. + +"Rather," replied Angel, "but I don't hurt him for nothing." + +"I have two young brothers," said the boy, "and I hurt them for next to +nothing. Licks 'em into shape." + +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." + +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. + + +III + +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! + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Hi, kids!" he yelled, "just keep that water off us, will you! Put down +that hose, Mops!" + +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. + +"What's she doing?" we gasped. + +"It's so dev'lish hot that the hose feels bully. Like to try it?" + +"I wish we had got our bathing suits," said Angel. + +"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." + +He led the way down some littered steps into a basement room, where a +dishevelled maid was blacking boots. + +"Here Playter," he ordered, "dig up some togs for a hosing, will you? And +be sharp about it, there's a love." + +The girl obligingly dropped her boots, and turning out the contents of a +cupboard, produced some faded blue bathing trunks. + +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. + +"It's just fun," I reassured him. "Don't get funky." + +"I'm not," he whispered, as I tied on his trunks, "but I fink it's a +dangerous enterpwise." + +"Time's up," yelled Simon, "get into the game!" + +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. + +In the midst of it, a French window at the back of the house opened, and a +lady stood on the threshold. + +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. + +"You got her that time, all right," said Mops, grinning roguishly. + +"Who is she?" I gasped. + +"Oh, just mummy," replied Simon, nonchalantly. + +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. + +"Did you turn that hose on your mother, Simon?" asked the young man +sternly. + +"Just a little," answered Simon. + +"Well, the next time you do it you'll get your jacket dusted, do you hear?" + +"Yes, father." + +The young man disappeared into the house, three of the wet dogs following +him. + +"Isn't Lord Simon sweet?" asked Mops, with another roguish smile at me. + +"Awfully," I replied politely, "but is the lady really your mother?" + +"Let's feed," interrupted Simon, throwing down the hose, "I've a rare old +twist on." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Hurrah for stilts," screamed Mops. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +"Toddle over here and see what the old girls are doing." + +"Who does he mean?" I asked Mops, as we moved stiffly, side by side. + +"It's the Unaquarium parson's garden," she said. "I expect they're having a +tea-fight. They're always up to something fishy." + +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. + +Bunny threw a green pear at the thin legs of the taller gentleman. + +The gentleman shied in a most spirited fashion, slopping his tea. + +Everybody turned to look in our direction. + +"Duck," hissed Mops. + +But it was too late to duck. Several ladies were already sweeping towards +us. + +Then my soul fainted within me, for the voice of the being who ruled our +little universe spoke as from a dark cloud. + +"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?" + +Mops answered for us; we were too afflicted for speech. + +"If you mean naket, we're not," she said, "but the dressed-up part of us is +on this side." + +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! + +Then up spoke Mrs. Handsomebody. "Put on your clothes," she ordered, "and +meet me at the corner. I shall be waiting." + + +IV + +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. + +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: + +"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?" + +"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--_tight_!" + +"Was that the lady in pink satin?" asked Angel, showing interest for the +first time. + +"I daresay. One would expect to find her in pink satin." + +The lecture went on, but I did not hear it; my mind dwelt insistently on +thoughts of the lady in pink. + +"What did she do, please?" I interrupted, thoughtlessly, at last. + +"Who do?" + +"The lady. When she was tight." + +"So that is where your thoughts were," said Mrs. Handsomebody, angrily, +"nice speculations indeed, for a little boy!" + +"I should yike a little nushment, please," interrupted The Seraph in his +turn. + +"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." + + +V + +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. + +"I don't care," said Angel, rather huskily. "It was worth it, I'd do it +again like a shot." + +"So would I," I assented. "Whatever do you s'pose they're up to now!" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Oh, don't bother about the work, Mary Ellen!" we cried. "Just listen to +the adventure we had yesterday!" + +"I listened to the hindermost part of it," she returned, "and it sounded +purty lively." + +"Who cares?" said Angel. "It didn't hurt a bit." + +"Not a bit," assented The Seraph, cheerily. "She gets weaker evwy day, and +I get stwonger." + +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. + +"They were drinking beer-and-gin," concluded Angel, "and the scullery-maid +did a breakdown for us in a pair of hunting boots." + +"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." + +"Come around with me," suggested Angel, "and I'll introduce you." + +"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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody, when dinner was over, fixed us with her cold grey eye, +and said: + +"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." + + +VI + +The prison door was locked. The gaoler gone. + +Thus our Saturday half-holiday! + +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. + +Aeons passed. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"We can't. We're locked in!" we chorused dismally. + +"I'll try to catch you if you jump," he suggested. "I would break the fall, +anyway." + +But the way looked long, and Simon very small. + +Then: "There's a ladder," cried The Seraph, gleefully, "better twy that." + +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. + +"Good fellow," said Angel, and began to climb out. + +"Now, you hand me The Seraph," he ordered, "and I'll attend to him." + +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. + +Before the door of our own grocer, Simon made a halt. + +"Must have somethin' wet," he gasped. "Ladder nearly floored me." + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She was speaking in a loud, clear voice to Simon's father, who was leaning +against the mantelpiece smoking. + +"Why the devil," she was saying, "should you smoke expensive cigars? Why +don't you smoke cigarettes as I do?" + +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. + +"Adorable little toad!" she cried, drawing him to her side. "What is your +name?" + +"Alexander," replied our youngest, "but they call me The Seraph. I'm not a +pampud pet." + +This sent the lady into a gale of laughter. She hugged him closer and +turned to me. + +"And what is your name, Sobersides?" she demanded. + +"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." + +As I talked, her expression changed. She leaned forward, searching my face +eagerly. + +"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!" + +"Lucky Davy," said the gentleman, smiling at me. + +"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 _fat_ now!" + +"He is not," I retorted stoutly. "He's thin. He's had the fever." + +"Again?" she cried. "He had it when I knew him--badly too. Who did he +marry?" + +"A Miss Vicars," replied her husband. "Good family. A screaming beauty too. +Other two boys look like her." + +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. + +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. + + +VII + +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! + +Yet, there we were, gazing at her, spellbound: and presently she enunciated +with awful distinctness: + +"I am come to apologize for the intrusion of my wards upon your privacy, +and to remove them instantly." + +"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. + +"I thank you," replied Mrs. Handsomebody. "I shall remain standing." + +"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'!" + +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: + +"Lord Simon de Lacey--Duke of Aberfalden. Surely there is some mistake." + +"I'm afraid not," said Lord Simon, shaking her hand. "In me you behold the +traditional, impecunious younger son, and--" + +"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." + +"He has a lovely brow," said Mrs. Handsomebody, beaming at him. + +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. + +"I trust that your father, the Duke, keeps well," she said to Lord Simon. + +"Great old boy," he replied. "Never misses a meet. Been in at the death of +nearly four thousand foxes." + +"Ah, blood will tell," breathed Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"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." + +"I'm sure I have heard of you," said Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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'--" + +"Doubtless because your art was pure, my love," put in Lord Simon, with a +sly smile. + +"I used to know this boy's father in those days," went on Lady Simon. "He +was a lamb." + +"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. + +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. + +No one spoke till the Cathedral came in view. Then Angel said: + +"There's a window in the Cathedral in memory of a son of some Duke of +Aberfalden. He died about a hundred years ago." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Knob-less obleedge," repeated Angel, submissively; and The Seraph also +repeated it several times, as though storing it away for future use. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Like an old-timer he handled it, watching the smoke-wreaths above his head +with the tranquil gaze of an elderly club-man. + +"Merciful Heaven!" screamed Mrs. Handsomebody, clutching Angel and me for +support. "Are you demented, Alexander? Do you realize what you are doing?" + +The Seraph drew a long puff, looking straight into her eyes, before he +replied: then, in a tone of gentle seriousness, he said: + +"Knob-less obleedge." + + + + +_Chapter IX: The Cobbler And His Wife_ + + +I + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody said he was half gypsy, and not to be encouraged. Mary +Ellen said, God help him with that wife of his. + +He bred canaries. + +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. + +Thus they were all busy together when we entered on this winter morning, +carrying Angel's heelless boot, wrapped in a newspaper. + +"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." + +The cobbler ceased his tapping, and all the birds stopped to listen: + +"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." + +"Oh, but you must keep that for another day," said Angel, "so we can come +again." + +"How she tries to keep you down," said the cobbler. "How old are you now?" + +I replied to this. "Angel's ten, and I'm nine, and The Seraph's six." + +"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?" + +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. + +Angel asked: "Did you do much cobbling in the van, Mr. Martindale?" + +"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." + +A strange voice spoke from the passage behind the shop. + +"Ay. Comical tricks lovebirds do. And cruel tricks, love. I've been tricked +by 'em." + +"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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"I fink I'll go," whispered The Seraph. + +"Don't be silly," I assured him, "the cobbler will take care she don't hurt +us." + +"She's a character, isn't she?" said Angel, borrowing a phrase from Mary +Ellen. + +Martindale returned then, sat down on his bench, and, smoothing his leather +apron, resumed his work with composure. + +"I fink," said The Seraph, "I hear Mrs. Handsomebody calling. I better be +off." + +"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?" + +The Seraph moved closer to him, and the canaries burst into a fury of song. + +"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." + +The canaries ceased their singing, and fluttered against the bars. + +"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?" + +Coppertoes crouched on his perch, his beak open, making little hissing +sounds. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +The Seraph sniffled. "It's nice and twagic," he said. + +"What became of his great discovery?" asked Angel. + +"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." + + +II + +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. + +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. + +Mrs. Handsomebody was speaking in a complaining way to Angel. + +"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." + +"I know," replied Angel, "but he said it was worth a shilling." + +"You see, he has a wife to keep," put in The Seraph, "and live birds to +feed." + +Mary Ellen withdrew her head from the interior of the glass case. + +"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." + +"Then," said Mrs. Handsomebody, "I shall seek a shoemaker who has no such +encumbrance. Is the woman feeble-minded or a sloven?" + +"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." + +"What sort of things?" + +"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--" + +"I disapprove of those bows." + +"--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.'" + +"What appearance has she?" inquired Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"Noan at all. I've niver seed her. No one has ever seed her. She's more +banshee than woman, I do belave." + +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. + +The cobbler got to his feet, and touched his forehead respectfully. This +pleased Mrs. Handsomebody. + +"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--" + +The cobbler opened his mouth to speak. + +--"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." + +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. + +"Oh, poorly as usual, thank you ma'am," he said. + +"I should think that country life would be much better for her." + +"She's even worse in the country." + +"There was a sheet of an excellent religious paper wrapped about that +gaiter. You might give it to her to read." + +"Thank you, ma'am, I will, though she takes more comfort reading the +dream-book than anything." + +"Burn the dream-book. It is probably at the root of the trouble." + +"No," replied the cobbler, slowly, "It all began when we lost our +daughter." + +Mrs. Handsomebody was touched. "That is sad indeed. How old was the child?" + +"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. + +When Martindale and I were left alone, he cautiously opened the door into +the passage, peered out, and then returned. He said softly: + +"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?" + +"It's awful," I agreed. "What shall you do?" + +"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." + +"But Mrs. Handsomebody--" I faltered. + +"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--" + + +III + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Like a ghost I went in and shut the door behind me. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Come to life--" she gasped, in a strangled voice--"after all these +years--and gone stark mad." + +She fell, at full length, across the green and red medallions of the +carpet. + +Then, with a rush, Mary Ellen and the charwoman, Mrs. Coe, were upon us, +and, after them, my brothers. + +"Lord preserve us!" cried Mary Ellen, bending above her prostrate mistress, +"what has come over the poor lady to be took like this?" + +"Is she dead, do you fink?" asked The Seraph, on a hopeful note. + +"Well, if she is, faith! 'tis yersilves has kilt her." + +"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. + +"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. + +"Thrue," agreed Mary Ellen. "And shut the dure afther ye, and make +yersilves scarce till tea-time, like good childer, do." + +Mrs. Handsomebody was borne away by Mary Ellen and Mrs. Coe, the latter +still muttering--"terbaccer smoke dahn 'er froat." + +We restored Coppertoes to his wicker cage, and wrapping it in an +antimacassar, hid it beneath the piano. + + +IV + +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: + + "The birds! The birds! + He knocked the stuffing + Out of the stuffed birds!" + +We watched the slow progress of the lamplighter along the street. Like a +god, he marched solemnly, leaving new stars in his wake. + +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. + +"Little masters," he whispered. "She's flitted." + +"Good widdance," said The Seraph, briskly. "She was too comical to be a +nice wife." + +"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!" + +"No," replied Angel. "We didn't. But perhaps the lamplighter did." + +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. + +"What's the turmoil?" he asked. "Did I forget a lamp?" + +"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." + +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." + +"Wumble Pool. That's where she's gone then. I can't seem to place it." + +"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?" + +"My wife. She's fey, and I'm fearing she'll drown herself." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + +"Yon's Wumble Pool." + +Wumble Pool! The very name struck a chill to our hearts. + +"Yes, and there's the moon," whispered the cobbler. + +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. + +"How soft the ground is!" breathed Angel. + +"Ay, and the Pool has no bottom," said the lamplighter. + +"I can't think she'd have the heart to do it," said Martindale. + +The Seraph screamed. + +"There she is! I see her! Standing in the Pool!" + +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. + +"Ada! Ada!" cried the cobbler, throwing his arms about her. + +"Leave me go!" shrieked the woman. "I'm a-goin' to drownd myself!" + +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. + +"You'd ought to be ashamed of yourself to worrit your 'usband so," said the +lamplighter, sternly. + +"'Usband!" cried the woman, shrilly. "I've got no 'usband!" + +The cobbler gave a cry of fear. He pulled the shawl from her head and felt +the face and hair. + +"God's truth!" he muttered, "I've saved the wrong woman." + +"Better fwow her back again," suggested The Seraph. + +"Nay, nay, little man," said the lamplighter, holding his light close to +her face. "That would never do. Besides, her be young and winsome." + +"I'd keep her," said Angel. + +"Whoever are you, lass?" asked Martindale, in a trembling voice, "and why +did you plan to make way with yourself?" + +The moon shone wanly on the girl's face and wet hair. + +"I'm nobody," she wailed, "and I be tired of life." + +"Did you see aught of a strange woman?" asked Martindale. "One who was +talking about the moon, and her head a-whirling?" + +"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." + +"That'd be her, all right," said the lamplighter. + +"Ada mine, Ada mine," mourned Martindale. + +Angel and The Seraph and I clutched hands, and looked shudderingly into +Wumble Pool. + +"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." + +"No danger," said The Seraph complacently, "there's no bottom." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"What is your name, my dear?" questioned Martindale. + +"I don't know my name rightly, sir, for I was stole by gipsies when I was +but two days old." + +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--. + +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. + +Thus we were haled before Mrs. Handsomebody, questioned, upbraided, and +given, at last, a bowl of hot gruel apiece. + +"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." + +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: + +"You began the day by introducing a canary of the lowest proclivities into +my case of stuffed birds, where he perpetrated irreparable damage--" + +The Seraph interrupted, "Don't you yike live birds, Mrs. Handsomebody?" + +"I prefer stuffed birds to live ones, I confess." + +The Seraph said apologetically: "And I pwefer gin to gwuel--any day." + +"Gin! Where did you taste gin?" + +Without reply The Seraph hurried on, while Angel and I scraped our bowls: + +"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." + +Mrs. Handsomebody, with a ferocious gleam in her eye, leaned forward to +catch the rest. The Seraph's voice was low and insinuating. + +"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." + +"And I expect you think they would tear _me_ piecemeal? Is that the idea?" + +"Oh, I don't know," chuckled The Seraph. "But suppose you twy it." + + + + +_Chapter X: The New Day_ + + +I + +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?" + +"Just some clothes hung up," I whispered back. + +"I fought they moved," he said. "Do you fink the wardrobe door moved, +John?" + +"Everything seems a little queer this morning," I replied. "I heard a +whispering sort of noise at the shutters a bit ago." + +Angel began to talk in his sleep. + +"If three suns were to rise at six," he muttered, "how many stars would it +take to make a moon?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +The Seraph turned a somersault in the middle of the bed. + +"Cwistmas is coming," he said, trying to stand on his head, "and I want a +pony." + +We threw ourselves into a general scuffle, and the old-four-poster creaked +and the bolster fell to the floor. + +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: + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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-- + +"Mrs. Handsomebody, if I was to smile at you, would you smile back at me?" + +"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." + +"I can't, please." + +"Eat it instantly, sir." + +"I can't," I repeated, beginning to blubber, "I want to see father!" + +"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: + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +We found Granfa polishing the brass on the front door, his white locks +bobbing as he rubbed. + +"Oh, Granfa," we cried, "have you heard the news?" + +"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." + +"Are you glad father's coming?" + +"Glad! I be so joyful as a bulfinch in springtime. See how the very face of +Natur' be lit up for the grand occasion." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Hallo, Mr. Martindale," Angel shouted. + +"What do you suppose? Father's coming home." + +"He'll be here In less than two hours," I panted. + +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." + +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." + +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!" + +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. + +"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. + +"This is Mr. Martindale," I explained. "He mends our boots, and tells us +stories, and he's got a bird named Coppertoes." + +"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." + +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. + +"By George," he said, when we had left them, "if all your friends are as +interesting as those, I should like to meet them." + +"They are that," I said, happily, "and here's another of them." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + + +II + +"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." + +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?" + +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. + +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. + +He made a wry face at the stuffed birds and then he whispered: "Old chaps, +have you been happy here?" + +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. + +Angel and I burrowed against him too. "Don't leave us again," we whispered. + +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. + +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. + +And Mrs. Handsomebody beamed fatuously at him! + +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?" + +Mrs. Handsomebody cackled. The Seraph kicked the table leg, unreproved. I +drifted after Mary Ellen to the kitchen. "Isn't he fine?" I bragged. + +"Divil a finer," agreed she. + +"And 'tis yersilf, Masther John," she added, "is the very spit av him. +Shure it's you should be the proud bye." + +"And, Mary Ellen, you are to come and live with us, you know, and have all +the 'followers' you want." + +"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." + +"I'll give you a nice present, Mary Ellen, dear," I promised, putting my +arm around her. + +"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." + +I fled back to the dining-room. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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: + +"She said you nearly ruined yourself once to buy her a pair of +cream-coloured ponies." + +"Yes, and a lapis lazarus necklace," added Angel, accusingly. + +"I want a cweam-culled pony!" shouted The Seraph. + +Father leaned over us with almost the expression of Mrs. Handsomebody in +his eye. + +"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." + +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: + +"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?" + +"Argyle Road!" exclaimed Angel. "That's where Giftie lived." + +"Want to see Giftie!" came from The Seraph, "and Colin." + +"Are you going to be good?" + +"Rather," said Angel. "Please take us." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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! + +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. + +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. + +I felt father's cheek against my head. His hand covered mine. He whispered: + +"Happy, John?" + +I nodded, clutching his fingers. 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