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diff --git a/39596-h/39596-h.htm b/39596-h/39596-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ed4650 --- /dev/null +++ b/39596-h/39596-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11706 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Georgina of the Rainbows, by Annie Fellows Johnston. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .big {font-size: 110%;} + .adtitle2 {font-size: 150%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + .adtitle {font-size: 200%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Georgina of the Rainbows, by Annie Fellows Johnston + +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: Georgina of the Rainbows + +Author: Annie Fellows Johnston + +Release Date: May 2, 2012 [EBook #39596] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEORGINA OF THE RAINBOWS *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="Cover" /> +</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h1>GEORGINA<br /> +OF THE RAINBOWS</h1> + + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class='center'> +"As Long as a Man Keeps Hope<br /> +at the Prow He Keeps Afloat."<br /><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/i001.png" width="300" height="113" alt="Ship at sea" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 301px;"><a id="frontis"></a> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="301" height="500" alt="Georgina colour illustration and handwritten signature" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='bbox'> + +<h1>GEORGINA<br /> +OF THE RAINBOWS</h1> + +<div class='center'>BY<br /> + +<span class='author'>ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</span><br /> + + +<i><span class='small'>Author of</span><br /> +<span class='small'>"Two Little Knights of Kentucky," "The Giant Scissors,"</span><br /> +<span class='small'>"The Desert of Waiting," etc.</span></i><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 125px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="125" height="128" alt="Carved angel on front of ship bow" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /> +<i><span style="margin-left: 1em;">". . . Still bear up and steer</span><br /> +right onward.</i>" <span class='small'>MILTON</span><br /> + + +<br /><br /><br /> +New York<br /> +Britton Publishing Company<br /> +</div></div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1916<br /> +BRITTON PUBLISHING COMPANY, INC.<br /> +<br /> +All Rights Reserved<br /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='center'> +To<br /> +My Little God-daughter<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Anne Elizabeth</span>"<br /><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i002.png" width="400" height="176" alt="Rowboat with girl in prow" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i003.png" width="400" height="282" alt="lighthouse" /> +<span class="caption">"At the Tip of Old Cape Cod."</span> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align="left" colspan='2'><span class='small'>CHAPTER</span></td><td align="right"><span class='small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">I. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Her Earlier Memories</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Georgina's Playmate Mother</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Towncrier Has His Say</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">New Friends and the Green Stairs</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Footsteps of Pirates</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Spend-the-Day Guests</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII. </td><td align="left">"<span class="smcap">The Tishbite</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Telegram That Took Barby Away</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Birthday Prism</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Moving Pictures</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Old Rifle Gives Up Its Secret</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Hard Promise</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Lost and Found at the Liniment Wagon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Buried Treasure</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Narrow Escape</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>XVI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">What the Storm Did</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">In the Keeping of the Dunes</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Found Out</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Tracing the Liniment Wagon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Dance of the Rainbow Fairies</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">On the Trail of the Wild-Cat Woman</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Rainbow Game</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Light Dawns for Uncle Darcy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Contrast in Fathers</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXV. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Letter To Hong-Kong</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Peggy Joins the Rainbow-Makers</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">A Modern "St. George and the Dragon"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXVIII. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Doctor's Discovery</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">While They Waited</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_317">317</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXX. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Nearing the End</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXXI. </td><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Comings and Goings</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_336">336</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<div class='center'><span class="smcap">by Ray N. Jackson</span><br /><br /></div> + + + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Real Georgina</span> (in life colors)</td><td align="right"><i><a href="#frontis">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> </td><td align="center"><span class='small'>FACING PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">They Took Their Way in "The Betsey"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Coming Across a Sea of Dreams</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">The Towncrier and His Lass</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_310">310</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i004.png" width="400" height="219" alt="Girl standing under rainbow" /> +<span class="caption">"Put a Rainbow 'Round Your +Troubles."—<span class="smcap">Georgina.</span></span> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>Georgina of the Rainbows</h2> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>HER EARLIER MEMORIES</div> + + +<div class='cap'>IF old Jeremy Clapp had not sneezed his teeth +into the fire that winter day this story might have +had a more seemly beginning; but, being a true record, +it must start with that sneeze, because it was the +first happening in Georgina Huntingdon's life which +she could remember distinctly.</div> + +<p>She was in her high-chair by a window overlooking +a gray sea, and with a bib under her chin, was +being fed dripping spoonfuls of bread and milk from +the silver porringer which rested on the sill. The +bowl was almost on a level with her little blue shoes +which she kept kicking up and down on the step of +her high-chair, wherefore the restraining hand which +seized her ankles at intervals. It was Mrs. Triplett's +firm hand which clutched her, and Mrs. Triplett's +firm hand which fed her, so there was not the +usual dilly-dallying over Georgina's breakfast as +when her mother held the spoon. She always made a +game of it, chanting nursery rhymes in a gay, silver-bell-cockle-shell +sort of way, as if she were one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +the "pretty maids all in a row," just stepped out of +a picture book.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett was an elderly widow, a distant relative +of the family, who lived with them. "Tippy" +the child called her before she could speak plainly—a +foolish name for such a severe and dignified person, +but Mrs. Triplett rather seemed to like it. Being +the working housekeeper, companion and everything +else which occasion required, she had no time to make +a game of Georgina's breakfast, even if she had +known how. Not once did she stop to say, "Curly-locks, +Curly-locks, wilt thou be mine?" or to press +her face suddenly against Georgina's dimpled rose-leaf +cheek as if it were <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'somthing'">something</ins> too temptingly dear +and sweet to be resisted. She merely said, "Here!" +each time she thrust the spoon towards her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett was in an especial hurry this morning, +and did not even look up when old Jeremy came +into the room to put more wood on the fire. In winter, +when there was no garden work, Jeremy did +everything about the house which required a man's +hand. Although he must have been nearly eighty +years old, he came in, tall and unbending, with a big +log across his shoulder. He walked stiffly, but his +back was as straight as the long poker with which +he mended the fire.</p> + +<p>Georgina had seen him coming and going about +the place every day since she had been brought to +live in this old gray house beside the sea, but this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +was the first time he had made any lasting impression +upon her memory. Henceforth, she was to carry +with her as long as she should live the picture of a +hale, red-faced old man with a woolen muffler wound +around his lean throat. His knitted "wrist-warmers" +slipped down over his mottled, deeply-veined +hands when he stooped to roll the log into the fire. +He let go with a grunt. The next instant a mighty +sneeze seized him, and Georgina, who had been gazing +in fascination at the shower of sparks he was +making, saw all of his teeth go flying into the fire.</p> + +<p>If his eyes had suddenly dropped from their sockets +upon the hearth, or his ears floated off from the +sides of his head, she could not have been more terrified, +for she had not yet learned that one's teeth +may be a separate part of one's anatomy. It was +such a terrible thing to see a man go to pieces in +this undreamed-of fashion, that she began to scream +and writhe around in her high-chair until it nearly +turned over.</p> + +<p>She did upset the silver porringer, and what was +left of the bread and milk splashed out on the floor, +barely missing the rug. Mrs. Triplett sprang to +snatch her from the toppling chair, thinking the child +was having a spasm. She did not connect it with old +Jeremy's sneeze until she heard his wrathful gibbering, +and turned to see him holding up the teeth, +which he had fished out of the fire with the tongs.</p> + +<p>They were an old-fashioned set such as one never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +sees now. They had been made in England. They +were hinged together like jaws, and Georgina yelled +again as she saw them all blackened and gaping, +dangling from the tongs. It was not the grinning +teeth themselves, however, which frightened her. +It was the awful knowledge, vague though it was to +her infant mind, that a human body could fly apart +in that way. And Tippy, not understanding the +cause of her terror, never thought to explain that +they were false and had been made by a man in +some out-of-the-way corner of Yorkshire, instead +of by the Almighty, and that their removal was painless.</p> + +<p>It was several years before Georgina learned the +truth, and the impression made by the accident grew +into a lurking fear which often haunted her as time +wore on. She never knew at what moment she might +fly apart herself. That it was a distressing experience +she knew from the look on old Jeremy's +face and the desperate pace at which he set off to +have himself mended.</p> + +<p>She held her breath long enough to hear the door +bang shut after him and his hob-nailed shoes go +scrunch, scrunch, through the gravel of the path +around the house, then she broke out crying again +so violently that Tippy had hard work quieting her. +She picked up the silver porringer from the floor +and told her to look at the pretty bowl. The fall +had put a dent into its side. And what would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +Georgina's great-great aunt have said could she have +known what was going to happen to her handsome +dish, poor lady! Surely she never would have left it +to such a naughty namesake! Then, to stop her +sobbing, Mrs. Triplett took one tiny finger-tip in her +large ones, and traced the name which was engraved +around the rim in tall, slim-looped letters: the name +which had passed down through many christenings +to its present owner, "Georgina Huntingdon."</p> + +<p>Failing thus to pacify the frightened child, Mrs. +Triplett held her up to the window overlooking the +harbor, and dramatically bade her "hark!" Standing +with her blue shoes on the window-sill, and a tear +on each pink cheek, Georgina flattened her nose +against the glass and obediently listened.</p> + +<p>The main street of the ancient seaport town, upon +which she gazed expectantly, curved three miles +around the harbor, and the narrow board-walk which +ran along one side of it all the way, ended abruptly +just in front of the house in a waste of sand. So +there was nothing to be seen but a fishing boat at +anchor, and the waves crawling up the beach, and +nothing to be heard but the jangle of a bell somewhere +down the street. The sobs broke out again.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" commanded Mrs. Triplett, giving her +an impatient shake. "Hark to what's coming up +along. Can't you stop a minute and give the Towncrier +a chance? Or is it you're trying to outdo him?"</p> + +<p>The word "Towncrier" was meaningless to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +Georgina. There was nothing by that name in her +linen book which held the pictures of all the animals +from Ape to Zebra, and there was nothing by that +name down in Kentucky where she had lived all of +her short life until these last few weeks. She did +not even know whether what Mrs. Triplett said was +coming along would be wearing a hat or horns. The +cow that lowed at the pasture bars every night back +in Kentucky jangled a bell. Georgina had no distinct +recollection of the cow, but because of it the +sound of a bell was associated in her mind with horns. +So horns were what she halfway expected to see, as +she watched breathlessly, with her face against the +glass.</p> + +<p>"Hark to what he's calling!" urged Mrs. Triplett. +"A fish auction. There's a big boat in this morning +with a load of fish, and the Towncrier is telling everybody +about it."</p> + +<p>So a Towncrier was a man! The next instant +Georgina saw him. He was an old man, with bent +shoulders and a fringe of gray hair showing under +the fur cap pulled down to meet his ears. But there +was such a happy twinkle in his faded blue eyes, such +goodness of heart in every wrinkle of the weather-beaten +old face, that even the grumpiest people +smiled a little when they met him, and everybody he +spoke to stepped along a bit more cheerful, just because +the hearty way he said "<i>Good</i> morning!" made +the day seem really good.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's cold," said Tippy. "Let's tap on the window +and beckon him to come in and warm himself +before he starts back to town."</p> + +<p>She caught up Georgina's hand to make it do the +tapping, thinking it would please her to give her a +share in the invitation, but in her touchy frame of +mind it was only an added grievance to have her +knuckles knocked against the pane, and her wails +began afresh as the old man, answering the signal, +shook his bell at her playfully, and turned towards +the house.</p> + +<p>As to what happened after that, Georgina's memory +is a blank, save for a confused recollection of +being galloped to Banbury Cross on somebody's +knee, while a big hand helped her to clang the clapper +of a bell far too heavy for her to swing alone. +But some dim picture of the kindly face puckered into +smiles for her comforting, stayed on in her mind as +an object seen through a fog, and thereafter she +never saw the Towncrier go kling-klanging along the +street without feeling a return of that same sense of +safety which his song gave her that morning. Somehow, +it restored her confidence in all Creation which +Jeremy's teeth had shattered in their fall.</p> + +<p>Taking advantage of Georgina's contentment at +being settled on the visitor's knee, Mrs. Triplett hurried +for a cloth to wipe up the bread and milk. +Kneeling on the floor beside it she sopped it up so +energetically that what she was saying came in jerks.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's a mercy you happened along, Mr. Darcy, or +she might have been screaming yet. I never saw a +child go into such a sudden tantrum."</p> + +<p>The answer came in jerks also, for it took a vigorous +trotting of the knees to keep such a heavy child +as Georgina on the bounce. And in order that his +words might not interfere with the game he sang +them to the tune of "Ride a Cock Horse."</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>There must have been—some very good——</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>Reason for such—a hulla-ba-loo!</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"I'll tell you when I come back," said Mrs. Triplett, +on her feet again by this time and halfway to +the kitchen with the dripping floor cloth. But when +she reappeared in the doorway her own concerns had +crowded out the thought of old Jeremy's misfortune.</p> + +<p>"My yeast is running all over the top of the crock, +Mr. Darcy, and if I don't get it mixed right away +the whole baking will be spoiled."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, ma'am," was the answer. "Go +ahead with your dough. I'll keep the little lass out +of mischief. Many's the time I have sat by this fire +with her father on my knee, as you know. But it's +been years since I was in this room last."</p> + +<p>There was a long pause in the Banbury Cross ride. +The Crier was looking around the room from one +familiar object to another with the gentle wistfulness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +which creeps into old eyes when they peer into +the past for something that has ceased to be. +Georgina grew impatient.</p> + +<p>"More ride!" she commanded, waving her hands +and clucking her tongue as he had just taught her to +do.</p> + +<p>"Don't let her worry you, Mr. Darcy," called +Mrs. Triplett from the kitchen. "Her mother will +be back from the post-office most any minute now. +Just send her out here to me if she gets too bothersome."</p> + +<p>Instantly Georgina cuddled her head down against +his shoulder. She had no mind to be separated +from this new-found playfellow. When he produced +a battered silver watch from the pocket of his velveteen +waistcoat, holding it over her ear, she was +charmed into a prolonged silence. The clack of +Tippy's spoon against the crock came in from the +kitchen, and now and then the fire snapped or the +green fore-log made a sing-song hissing.</p> + +<p>More than thirty years had passed by since the +old Towncrier first visited the Huntingdon home. +He was not the Towncrier then, but a seafaring man +who had sailed many times around the globe, and +had his fill of adventure. Tired at last of such a +roving life, he had found anchorage to his liking +in this quaint old fishing town at the tip end of Cape +Cod. Georgina's grandfather, George Justin Huntingdon, +a judge and a writer of dry law books, had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +been one of the first to open his home to him. They +had been great friends, and little Justin, now Georgina's +father, had been a still closer friend. Many a +day they had spent together, these two, fishing or +blueberrying or tramping across the dunes. The boy +called him "Uncle Darcy," tagging after him like a +shadow, and feeling a kinship in their mutual love of +adventure which drew as strongly as family ties. +The Judge always said that it was the old sailor's +yarns of sea life which sent Justin into the navy "instead +of the law office where he belonged."</p> + +<p>As the old man looked down at Georgina's soft, +brown curls pressed against his shoulder, and felt +her little dimpled hand lying warm on his neck, he +could almost believe it was the same child who had +crept into his heart thirty years ago. It was hard to +think of the little lad as grown, or as filling the responsible +position of a naval surgeon. Yet when he +counted back he realized that the Judge had been +dead several years, and the house had been standing +empty all that time. Justin had never been back +since it was boarded up. He had written occasionally +during the first of his absence, but only boyish +scrawls which told little about himself.</p> + +<p>The only real news which the old man had of him +was in the three clippings from the Provincetown +<i>Beacon</i>, which he carried about in his wallet. The +first was a mention of Justin's excellent record in +fighting a fever epidemic in some naval station in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +tropics. The next was the notice of his marriage to +a Kentucky girl by the name of Barbara Shirley, and +the last was a paragraph clipped from a newspaper +dated only a few weeks back. It said that Mrs. Justin +Huntingdon and little daughter, Georgina, would +arrive soon to take possession of the old Huntingdon +homestead which had been closed for many +years. During the absence of her husband, serving +in foreign parts, she would have with her Mrs. Maria +Triplett.</p> + +<p>The Towncrier had known Mrs. Triplett as long +as he had known the town. She had been kind to +him when he and his wife were in great trouble. He +was thinking about that time now, because it had +something to do with his last visit to the Judge in +this very room. She had happened to be present, +too. And the green fore-log had made that same +sing-song hissing. The sound carried his thoughts +back so far that for a few moments he ceased to hear +the clack of the spoon.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/i005.png" width="200" height="104" alt="bell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>GEORGINA'S PLAYMATE MOTHER</div> + + +<div class='cap'>AS the Towncrier's revery brought him around to +Mrs. Triplett's part in the painful scene which +he was recalling, he heard her voice, and looking up, +saw that she had come back into the room, and was +standing by the window.</div> + +<p>"There's Justin's wife now, Mr. Darcy, coming +up the beach. Poor child, she didn't get her letter. +I can tell she's disappointed from the way she walks +along as if she could hardly push against the wind."</p> + +<p>The old man, leaning sideways over the arm of his +chair, craned his neck toward the window to peer +out, but he did it without dislodging Georgina, who +was repeating the "tick-tick" of the watch in a whisper, +as she lay contentedly against the Towncrier's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"She's naught but a slip of a girl," he commented, +referring to Georgina's mother, slowly drawing into +closer view. "She must be years younger than Justin. +She came up to me in the post-office last week +and told me who she was, and I've been intending +ever since to get up this far to talk with her about +him."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>As they watched her she reached the end of the +board-walk, and plunging ankle-deep into the sand, +trudged slowly along as if pushed back by the wind. +It whipped her skirts about her and blew the ends +of her fringed scarf back over her shoulder. She +made a bright flash of color against the desolate +background. Scarf, cap and thick knitted reefer +were all of a warm rose shade. Once she stopped, +and with hands thrust into her reefer pockets, stood +looking off towards the lighthouse on Long Point. +Mrs. Triplett spoke again, still watching her.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to take Justin's offer when he first +wrote to me, although the salary he named was a +good one, and I knew the work wouldn't be more +than I've always been used to. But I had planned +to stay in Wellfleet this winter, and it always goes +against the grain with me to have to change a plan +once made. I only promised to stay until she was +comfortably settled. A <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Portugese'">Portuguese</ins> woman on one +of the back streets would have come and cooked for +her. But land! When I saw how strange and lonesome +she seemed and how she turned to me for +everything, I didn't have the heart to say go. I +only named it once to her, and she sort of choked up +and winked back the tears and said in that soft-spoken +Southern way of hers, 'Oh, don't leave me, +Tippy!' She's taken to calling me Tippy, just as +Georgina does. 'When you talk about it I feel like +a kitten shipwrecked on a desert island. It's all so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +strange and dreadful here with just sea on one side +and sand dunes on the other.'"</p> + +<p>At the sound of her name, Georgina suddenly sat +up straight and began fumbling the watch back into +the velveteen pocket. She felt that it was time for +her to come into the foreground again.</p> + +<p>"More ride!" she demanded. The galloping +began again, gently at first, then faster and faster +in obedience to her wishes, until she seemed only a +swirl of white dress and blue ribbon and flying brown +curls. But this time the giddy going up and down +was in tame silence. There was no accompanying +song to make the game lively. Mrs. Triplett had +more to say, and Mr. Darcy was too deeply interested +to sing.</p> + +<p>"Look at her now, stopping to read that sign set +up on the spot where the Pilgrims landed. She does +that every time she passes it. Says it cheers her up +something wonderful, no matter how downhearted +she is, to think that she wasn't one of the Mayflower +passengers, and that she's nearly three hundred years +away from their hardships and that dreadful first +wash-day of theirs. Does seem to me though, that's +a poor way to make yourself cheerful, just thinking +of all the hard times you might have had but didn't."</p> + +<p>"<i>Thing</i> it!" lisped Georgina, wanting undivided +attention, and laying an imperious little hand on his +cheek to force it. "<i>Thing!</i>"</p> + +<p>He shook his head reprovingly, with a finger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +across his lips to remind her that Mrs. Triplett was +still talking; but she was not to be silenced in such +a way. Leaning over until her mischievous brown +eyes compelled him to look at her, she smiled like +a dimpled cherub. Georgina's smile was something +irresistible when she wanted her own way.</p> + +<p>"<i>Pleathe!</i>" she lisped, her face so radiantly sure +that no one could be hardhearted enough to resist the +magic appeal of that word, that he could not disappoint +her.</p> + +<p>"The little witch!" he exclaimed. "She could +wheedle the fish out of the sea if she'd say please +to 'em that way. But how that honey-sweet tone and +the yells she was letting loose awhile back could +come out of that same little rose of a mouth, passes +my understanding."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett had left them again and he was +singing at the top of his quavering voice, "Rings on +her fingers and bells on her toes," when the front +door opened and Georgina's mother came in. The +salt wind had blown color into her cheeks as bright +as her rose-pink reefer. Her disappointment about +the letter had left a wistful shadow in her big gray +eyes, but it changed to a light of pleasure when she +saw who was romping with Georgina. They were +so busy with their game that neither of them noticed +her entrance.</p> + +<p>She closed the door softly behind her and stood +with her back against it watching them a moment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +Then Georgina spied her, and with a rapturous cry +of <i>"Barby!"</i> scrambled down and ran to throw herself +into her mother's arms. Barby was her way of +saying Barbara. It was the first word she had ever +spoken and her proud young mother encouraged her +to repeat it, even when her Grandmother Shirley insisted +that it wasn't respectful for a child to call its +mother by her first name.</p> + +<p>"But I don't care whether it is or not," Barbara +had answered. "All I want is for her to feel that +we're the best chums in the world. And I'm <i>not</i> going +to spoil her even if I am young and inexperienced. +There are a few things that I expect to be very strict +about, but making her respectful to me isn't one of +them."</p> + +<p>Now one of the things which Barbara had decided +to be very strict about in Georgina's training was +making her respectful to guests. She was not to +thrust herself upon their notice, she was not to interrupt +their conversation, or make a nuisance of herself. +So, young as she was, Georgina had already +learned what was expected of her, when her mother +having greeted Mr. Darcy and laid aside her wraps, +drew up to the fire to talk to him. But instead of +doing the expected thing, Georgina did the forbidden. +Since the old man's knees were crossed so that +she could no longer climb upon them, she attempted +to seat herself on his foot, clamoring, "Do it again!"</p> + +<p>"No, dear," Barbara said firmly. "Uncle Darcy's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +tired." She had noticed the long-drawn sigh of relief +with which he ended the last gallop. "He's +going to tell us about father when he was a little boy +no bigger than you. So come here to Barby and +listen or else go off to your own corner and play +with your whirligig."</p> + +<p>Usually, at the mention of some particularly pleasing +toy Georgina would trot off happily to find it; +but to-day she stood with her face drawn into a rebellious +pucker and scowled at her mother savagely. +Then throwing herself down on the rug she began +kicking her blue shoes up and down on the hearth, +roaring, "<i>No! No!</i>" at the top of her voice. Barbara +paid no attention at first, but finding it impossible +to talk with such a noise going on, dragged her +up from the floor and looked around helplessly, considering +what to do with her. Then she remembered +the huge wicker clothes hamper, standing empty in +the kitchen, and carrying her out, gently lowered her +into it.</p> + +<p>It was so deep that even on tiptoe Georgina could +not look over the rim. All she could see was the +ceiling directly overhead. The surprise of such a +novel punishment made her hold her breath to find +what was going to happen next, and in the stillness +she heard her mother say calmly as she walked out of +the room: "If she roars any more, Tippy, just put +the lid on; but as soon as she is ready to act like a +little lady, lift her out, please."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>The strangeness of her surroundings kept her quiet +a moment longer, and in that moment she discovered +that by putting one eye to a loosely-woven spot in the +hamper she could see what Mrs. Triplett was doing. +She was polishing the silver porringer, trying to rub +out the dent which the fall had made in its side. It +was such an interesting kitchen, seen through this +peep-hole that Georgina became absorbed in rolling +her eye around for wider views. Then she found +another outlook on the other side of the hamper, +and was quiet so long that Mrs. Triplett came over +and peered down at her to see what was the matter. +Georgina looked up at her with a roguish smile. +One never knew how she was going to take a punishment +or what she would do next.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready to be a little lady now? Want me +to lift you out?" Both little arms were stretched joyously +up to her, and a voice of angelic sweetness said +coaxingly: "<i>Pleathe</i>, Tippy."</p> + +<p>The porringer was in Mrs. Triplett's hand when +she leaned over the hamper to ask the question. The +gleam of its freshly-polished sides caught Georgina's +attention an instant before she was lifted out, and +it was impressed on her memory still more deeply +by being put into her own hands afterwards as she +sat in Mrs. Triplett's lap. Once more her tiny finger's +tip was made to trace the letters engraved +around the rim, as she was told about her great-great +aunt and what was expected of her. The solemn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +tone clutched her attention as firmly as the hand +which held her, and somehow, before she was set +free, she was made to feel that because of that old +porringer she was obliged to be a little lady.</p> + +<p>Tippy was not one who could sit calmly by and +see a child suffer for lack of proper instruction, and +while Georgina never knew just how it was done, the +fact was impressed upon her as years went by that +there were many things which she could not do, +simply because she was a Huntingdon and because +her name had been graven for so many generations +around that shining silver rim.</p> + +<p>Although to older eyes the happenings of that +morning were trivial, they were far-reaching in their +importance to Georgina, for they gave her three +memories—Jeremy's teeth, the Towncrier's bell, and +her own name on the porringer—to make a deep impression +on all her after-life.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i006.png" width="400" height="275" alt="Woman looking out to sea" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE TOWNCRIER HAS HIS SAY</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE old Huntingdon house with its gray gables +and stone chimneys, stood on the beach near the +breakwater, just beyond the place where everything +seemed to come to an end. The house itself marked +the end of the town. Back of it the dreary dunes +stretched away toward the Atlantic, and in front the +Cape ran out in a long, thin tongue of sand between +the bay and the harbor, with a lighthouse on its +farthest point. It gave one the feeling of being at +the very tip end of the world to look across and see +the water closing in on both sides. Even the road +ended in front of the house in a broad loop in which +machines could turn around.</div> + +<p>In summer there was always a string of sightseers +coming up to this end of the beach. They came to +read the tablet erected on the spot known to Georgina +as "holy ground," because it marked the first +landing of the Pilgrims. Long before she could read, +Mrs. Triplett taught her to lisp part of a poem which +said:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Aye, call it holy ground,</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>The thoil where firth they trod.</i>"</span><br /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>She taught it to Georgina because she thought it +was only fair to Justin that his child should grow +up to be as proud of her New England home as she +was of her Southern one. Barbara was always singing +to her about "My Old Kentucky Home," and +"Going Back to Dixie," and when they played together +on the beach their favorite game was building +Grandfather Shirley's house in the sand.</p> + +<p>Day after day they built it up with shells and +wet sand and pebbles, even to the stately gate posts +topped by lanterns. Twigs of bayberry and wild +beach plum made trees with which to border its avenues, +and every dear delight of swing and arbor and +garden pool beloved in Barbara's play-days, was reproduced +in miniature until Georgina loved them, +too. She knew just where the bee-hives ought to be +put, and the sun-dial, and the hole in the fence where +the little pigs squeezed through. There was a story +for everything. By the time she had outgrown her +lisp she could make the whole fair structure by herself, +without even a suggestion from Barbara.</p> + +<p>When she grew older the shore was her schoolroom +also. She learned to read from letters traced +in the sand, and to make them herself with shells +and pebbles. She did her sums that way, too, after +she had learned to count the sails in the harbor, the +gulls feeding at ebb-tide, and the great granite blocks +which formed the break-water.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett's time for lessons was when Georgina<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +was following her about the house. Such following +taught her to move briskly, for Tippy, like +time and tide, never waited, and it behooved one to +be close at her heels if one would see what she put +into a pan before she whisked it into the oven. Also +it was necessary to keep up with her as she moved +swiftly from the cellar to the pantry if one would +hear her thrilling tales of Indians and early settlers +and brave forefathers of colony times.</p> + +<p>There was a powder horn hanging over the dining +room mantel, which had been in the battle of +Lexington, and Tippy expected Georgina to find the +same inspiration in it which she did, because the +forefather who carried it was an ancestor of each.</p> + +<p>"The idea of a descendant of one of the Minute-men +being afraid of <i>rats!</i>" she would say with a +scornful rolling of her words which seemed to wither +her listener with ridicule. "Or of an empty garret! +<i>Tut!</i>"</p> + +<p>When Georgina was no more than six, that disgusted +"Tut!" would start her instantly down a +dark cellar-way or up into the dreaded garret, even +when she could feel the goose-flesh rising all over +her. Between the porringer, which obliged her to +be a little lady, and the powder horn, which obliged +her to be brave, even while she shivered, some times +Georgina felt that she had almost too much to live +up to. There were times when she was sorry that +she had ancestors. She was proud to think that one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +of them shared in the honors of the tall Pilgrim +monument overlooking the town and harbor, but +there were days when she would have traded him +gladly <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'far'">for</ins> an hour's play with two little <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Portugese'">Portuguese</ins> +boys and their sister, who often wandered up to the +dunes back of the house.</p> + +<p>She had watched them often enough to know that +their names were Manuel and Joseph and Rosa. +They were beautiful children, such as some of the +old masters delighted to paint, but they fought and +quarreled and—Tippy said—used "shocking language." +That is why Georgina was not allowed to +play with them, but she often stood at the back gate +watching them, envying their good times together +and hoping to hear a sample of their shocking language.</p> + +<p>One day when they strolled by dragging a young +puppy in a rusty saucepan by a string tied to the +handle, the temptation to join them overcame her. +Inch by inch her hand moved up nearer the forbidden +gate latch and she was just slipping through when +old Jeremy, hidden behind a hedge where he was +weeding the borders, rose up like an all-seeing dragon +and roared at her, "Coom away, lass! Ye maun't +do that!"</p> + +<p>She had not known that he was anywhere +around, and the voice coming suddenly out of the +unseen startled her so that her heart seemed to +jump up into her throat. It made her angry, too.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +Only the moment before she had heard Rosa scream +at Manuel, "You ain't my boss; shut your big +mouth!"</p> + +<p>It was on the tip of her tongue to scream the same +thing at old Jeremy and see what would happen. She +felt, instinctively, that this was shocking language. +But she had not yet outgrown the lurking fear which +always seized her in his presence that either her +teeth or his might fly out if she wasn't careful, so +she made no answer. But compelled to vent her inward +rebellion in some way, she turned her back on +the hedge that screened him and shook the gate till +the latch rattled.</p> + +<p>Looking up she saw the tall Pilgrim monument +towering over the town like a watchful giant. She +had a feeling that it, too, was spying on her. No +matter where she went, even away out in the harbor +in a motor boat, it was always stretching its long +neck up to watch her. Shaking back her curls, she +looked up at it defiantly and made a face at it, just +the ugliest pucker of a face she could twist her little +features into.</p> + +<p>But it was only on rare occasions that Georgina +felt the longing for playmates of her own age. +Usually she was busy with her lessons or happily +following her mother and Mrs. Triplett around the +house, sharing all their occupations. In jelly-making +time she had the scrapings of the kettle to fill her +own little glass. When they sewed she sewed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +them, even when she was so small that she had to +have the thread tied in the needle's eye, and could do +no more than pucker up a piece of soft goods into +big wallops. But by the time she was nine years old +she had learned to make such neat stitches that Barbara +sent specimens of her needlework back to Kentucky, +and folded others away in a little trunk of +keepsakes, to save for her until she should be grown.</p> + +<p>Also by the time she was nine she could play quite +creditably a number of simple Etudes on the tinkly +old piano which had lost some of its ivories. Her +daily practicing was one of the few things about +which Barbara was strict. So much attention had +been given to her own education in music that she +found joy in keeping up her interest in it, and wanted +to make it one of Georgina's chief sources of pleasure. +To that end she mixed the stories of the great +operas and composers with her fairy tales and folk +lore, until the child knew them as intimately as she +did her Hans Andersen and Uncle Remus.</p> + +<p>They often acted stories together, too. Even Mrs. +Triplett was dragged into these, albeit unwillingly, +for minor but necessary parts. For instance, in +"Lord Ullin's Daughter," she could keep on with her +knitting and at the same time do "the horsemen hard +behind us ride," by clapping her heels on the hearth +to sound like hoof-beats.</p> + +<p>Acting came as naturally to Georgina as breathing. +She could not repeat the simplest message without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +unconsciously imitating the tone and gesture of the +one who sent it. This dramatic instinct made a +good reader of her when she took her turn with Barbara +in reading aloud. They used to take page +about, sitting with their arms around each other on +the old claw-foot sofa, backed up against the library +table.</p> + +<p>At such performances the old Towncrier was +often an interested spectator. Barbara welcomed +him when he first came because he seemed to want to +talk about Justin as much as she desired to hear. +Later she welcomed him for his own sake, and grew +to depend upon him for counsel and encouragement. +Most of all she appreciated his affectionate interest +in Georgina. If he had been her own grandfather +he could not have taken greater pride in her little +accomplishments. More than once he had tied her +thread in her needle for her when she was learning +to sew, and it was his unfailing praise of her awkward +attempts which encouraged her to keep on until +her stitches were really praiseworthy.</p> + +<p>He applauded her piano playing from her first +stumbling attempt at scales to the last simple waltz +she had just learned. He attended many readings, +beginning with words of one syllable, on up to such +books as "The Leatherstocking Tales." He came +in one day, however, as they were finishing a chapter +in one of the Judge's favorite novels, and no sooner +had Georgina skipped out of the room on an errand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +than he began to take her mother to task for allowing +her to read anything of that sort.</p> + +<p>"You'll make the lass old before her time!" he +scolded. "A little scrap like her ought to be playing +with other children instead of reading books so far +over her head that she can only sort of tip-toe up to +them."</p> + +<p>"But it's the stretching that makes her grow, +Uncle Darcy," Barbara answered in an indulgent +tone. He went on heedless of her interruption.</p> + +<p>"And she tells me that she sometimes sits as much +as an hour at a time, listening to you play on the +piano, especially if it's 'sad music that makes you +think of someone looking off to sea for a ship that +never comes in, or of waves creeping up in a lonely +place where the fog-bell tolls.' Those were her very +words, and she looked so mournful that it worried +me. It isn't natural for a child of her age to sit with +a far-away look in her eyes, as if she were seeing +things that ain't there."</p> + +<p>Barbara laughed.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Uncle Darcy. As long as she keeps +her rosy cheeks and is full of life, a little dreaming +can't hurt her. You should have seen her doing the +elfin dance this morning. She entered into the spirit +of it like a little whirlwind. And, besides, there are +no children anywhere near that I can allow her to +play with. I have only a few acquaintances in the +town, and they are too far from us to make visiting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +easy between the children. But look at the time <i>I</i> +give to her. I play with her so much that we're more +like two chums than mother and child."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it would be better for both of you if you +had more friends outside. Then Georgina wouldn't +feel the sadness of 'someone looking off to sea for +a ship that never comes in.' She feels your separation +from Justin and your watching for his letters +and your making your whole life just a waiting time +between his furloughs, more than you have any idea +of."</p> + +<p>"But, Uncle Darcy!" exclaimed Barbara, "it +would be just the same no matter how many friends +I had. They couldn't make me forget his absence."</p> + +<p>"No, but they could get you interested in other +things, and Georgina would feel the difference, and +be happier because you would not seem to be waiting +and anxious. There's some rare, good people in +this town, old friends of the family who tried to make +you feel at home among them when you first came."</p> + +<p>"I know," admitted Barbara, slowly, "but I was +so young then, and so homesick that strangers didn't +interest me. Now Georgina is old enough to be +thoroughly companionable, and our music and sewing +and household duties fill our days."</p> + +<p>It was a subject they had discussed before, without +either convincing the other, and the old man had +always gone away at such times with a feeling of +defeat. But this time as he took his leave, it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +with the determination to take the matter in hand +himself. He felt he owed it to the Judge to do that +much for his grandchild. The usual crowds of summer +people would be coming soon. He had heard +that Gray Inn was to be re-opened this summer. +That meant there would probably be children at this +end of the beach. If Opportunity came that near +to Georgina's door he knew several ways of inducing +it to knock. So he went off smiling to himself.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/i007.png" width="225" height="158" alt="Man rigning hand bell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>NEW FRIENDS AND THE GREEN STAIRS</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE town filled up with artists earlier than usual +that summer. Stable lofts and old boathouses +along the shore blossomed into studios. Sketching +classes met in the rooms of the big summer art +schools which made the Cape end famous, or set up +their models down by the wharfs. One ran into +easels pitched in the most public places: on busy street +corners, on the steps of the souvenir shops and even +in front of the town hall. People in paint-besmeared +smocks, loaded with canvases, sketching stools and +palettes, filled the board-walk and overflowed into +the middle of the street.</div> + +<p>The <i>Dorothy Bradford</i> steamed up to the wharf +from Boston with her daily load of excursionists, and +the "accommodation" busses began to ply up and +down the three miles of narrow street with its restless +tide of summer visitors.</p> + +<p>Up along, through the thick of it one June morning, +came the Towncrier, a picturesque figure in his +short blue jacket and wide seaman's trousers, a red +bandanna knotted around his throat and a wide-rimmed +straw hat on the back of his head.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Notice!" he cried, after each vigorous ringing +of his big brass bell. "Lost, between Mayflower +Heights and the Gray Inn, a black leather bill-case +with important papers."</p> + +<p>He made slow progress, for someone stopped him +at almost every rod with a word of greeting, and +he stopped to pat every dog which thrust a friendly +nose into his hand in passing. Several times strangers +stepped up to him to inquire into his affairs as if he +were some ancient historical personage come to life. +Once he heard a man say:</p> + +<p>"Quick with your kodak, Ethel. Catch the Towncrier +as he comes along. They say there's only one +other place in the whole United States that has one. +You can't afford to miss anything <i>this</i> quaint."</p> + +<p>It was nearly noon when he came towards the end +of the beach. He walked still more slowly here, +for many cottages had been opened for summer residents +since the last time he passed along, and he +knew some of the owners. He noticed that the loft +above a boat-house which had once been the studio +of a famous painter of marine scenes was again in +use. He wondered who had taken it. Almost across +from it was the "Green Stairs" where Georgina always +came to meet him if she were outdoors and +heard his bell.</p> + +<p>The "Green Stairs" was the name she had given to +a long flight of wooden steps with a railing on each +side, leading from the sidewalk up a steep embankment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +to the bungalow on top. It was a wide-spreading +bungalow with as many windows looking out to +sea as a lighthouse, and had had an especial interest +for Georgina, since she heard someone say that its +owner, Mr. Milford, was an old bachelor who lived +by himself. She used to wonder when she was +younger if "all the bread and cheese he got he kept +upon a shelf." Once she asked Barbara why he +didn't "go to London to get him a wife," and was +told probably because he had so many guests that +there wasn't time. Interesting people were always +coming and going about the house; men famous for +things they had done or written or painted.</p> + +<p>Now as the Towncrier came nearer, he saw +Georgina skipping along toward him with her jumping +rope. She was bare-headed, her pink dress fluttering +in the salt breeze, her curls blowing back from +her glowing little face. He would have hastened his +steps to meet her, but his honest soul always demanded +a certain amount of service from himself for +the dollar paid him for each trip of this kind. So +he went on at his customary gait, stopping at the +usual intervals to ring his bell and call his news.</p> + +<p>At the Green Stairs Georgina paused, her attention +attracted by a foreign-looking battleship just +steaming into the harbor. She was familiar with +nearly every kind of sea-going craft that ever anchored +here, but she could not classify this one. With +her hands behind her, clasping her jumping rope<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +ready for another throw, she stood looking out to +sea. Presently a slight scratching sound behind her +made her turn suddenly. Then she drew back +startled, for she was face to face with a dog which +was sitting on the step just on a level with her eyes. +He was a ragged-looking tramp of a dog, an Irish +terrier, but he looked at her in such a knowing, +human way that she spoke to him as if he had been +a person.</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake, how you made me jump! I +didn't know anybody was sitting there behind me."</p> + +<p>It was almost uncanny the way his eyes twinkled +through his hair, as if he were laughing with her +over some good joke they had together. It gave her +such a feeling of comradeship that she stood and +smiled back at him. Suddenly he raised his right +paw and thrust it towards her. She drew back another +step. She was not used to dogs, and she hesitated +about touching anything with such claws in it +as the paw he gravely presented.</p> + +<p>But as he continued to hold it out she felt it +would be impolite not to respond in some way, so +reaching out very cautiously she gave it a limp shake. +Then as he still kept looking at her with questioning +eyes she asked quite as if she expected him to speak, +"What's your name, Dog?"</p> + +<p>A voice from the top of the steps answered, "It's +Captain Kidd." Even more startled than when the +dog had claimed her attention, she glanced up to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +see a small boy on the highest step. He was sucking +an orange, but he took his mouth away from it long +enough to add, "His name's on his collar that he got +yesterday, and so's mine. You can look at 'em if you +want to."</p> + +<p>Georgina leaned forward to peer at the engraving +on the front of the collar, but the hair on the shaggy +throat hid it, and she was timid about touching a +spot just below such a wide open mouth with a red +tongue lolling out of it. She put her hands behind +her instead.</p> + +<p>"Is—is he—a pirate dog?" she ventured.</p> + +<p>The boy considered a minute, not wanting to say +yes if pirates were not respectable in her eyes, and +not wanting to lose the chance of glorifying him if +she held them in as high esteem as he did. After a +long meditative suck at his orange he announced, +"Well, he's just as good as one. He buries all his +treasures. That's why we call him Captain Kidd."</p> + +<p>Georgina shot a long, appraising glance at the +boy from under her dark lashes. His eyes were +dark, too. There was something about him that attracted +her, even if his face was smeary with orange +juice and streaked with dirty finger marks. She +wanted to ask more about Captain Kidd, but her +acquaintance with boys was as slight as with dogs. +Overcome by a sudden shyness she threw her rope +over her head and went skipping on down the boardwalk +to meet the Towncrier.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy stood up and looked after her. He +wished she hadn't been in such a hurry. It had been +the longest morning he ever lived through. Having +arrived only the day before with his father to +visit at the bungalow he hadn't yet discovered what +there was for a boy to do in this strange place. +Everybody had gone off and left him with the servants, +and told him to play around till they got back. +It wouldn't be long, they said, but he had waited and +waited until he felt he had been looking out to sea +from the top of those green steps all the days of his +life. Of course, he wouldn't want to play with just +a girl, but——</p> + +<p>He watched the pink dress go fluttering on, and +then he saw Georgina take the bell away from the +old man as if it were her right to do so. She turned +and walked along beside him, tinkling it faintly as +she talked. He wished <i>he</i> had a chance at it. He'd +show her how loud he could make it sound.</p> + +<p>"Notice," called the old man, seeing faces appear +at some of the windows they were passing. "Lost, +a black leather bill-case——"</p> + +<p>The boy, listening curiously, slid down the steps +until he reached the one on which the dog was sitting, +and put his arm around its neck. The banister posts +hid him from the approaching couple. He could +hear Georgina's eager voice piping up flute-like:</p> + +<p>"It's a pirate dog, Uncle Darcy. He's named +Captain Kidd because he buries his treasures."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>In answer the old man's quavering voice rose in +a song which he had roared lustily many a time in +his younger days, aboard many a gallant vessel:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Oh, my name is Captain Kidd,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And many wick-ud things I did,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And heaps of gold I hid,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">As I sailed."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>The way his voice slid down on the word wick-<i>ud</i> +made a queer thrilly feeling run down the boy's back, +and all of a sudden the day grew wonderfully interesting, +and this old seaport town one of the nicest +places he had ever been in. The singer stopped at +the steps and Georgina, disconcerted at finding the +boy at such close range when she expected to see him +far above her, got no further in her introduction to +Captain Kidd than "Here he——"</p> + +<p>But the old man needed no introduction. He had +only to speak to the dog to set every inch of him +quivering in affectionate response. "Here's a friend +worth having," the raggedy tail seemed to signal in +a wig-wag code of its own.</p> + +<p>Then the wrinkled hand went from the dog's head +to the boy's shoulder with the same kind of an affectionate +pat. "What's <i>your</i> name, son?"</p> + +<p>"Richard Morland."</p> + +<p>"What?" was the surprised question. "Are you +a son of the artist Morland, who is visiting up here +at the Milford bungalow?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, that's us."</p> + +<p>"Well, bless my stars, it's <i>his</i> bill-case I have been +crying all morning. If I'd known there was a fine +lad like you sitting about doing nothing, I'd had you +with me, ringing the bell."</p> + +<p>The little fellow's face glowed. He was as quick +to recognize a friend worth having as Captain Kidd +had been.</p> + +<p>"Say," he began, "if it was Daddy's bill-case you +were shouting about, you needn't do it any longer. +It's found. Captain Kidd came in with it in his +mouth just after Daddy went away. He was starting +to dig a hole in the sand down by the garage to +bury it in, like he does everything. He's hardly done +being a puppy yet, you know. I took it away from +him and reckanized it, and I've been waiting here +all morning for Dad to come home."</p> + +<p>He began tugging at the pocket into which he had +stowed the bill-case for safe-keeping, and Captain +Kidd, feeling that it was his by right of discovery, +stood up, wagging himself all over, and poking his +nose in between them, with an air of excited interest. +The Towncrier shook his finger at him.</p> + +<p>"You rascal! I suppose you'll be claiming the reward +next thing, you old pirate! How old is he, +Richard?"</p> + +<p>"About a year. He was given to me when he was +just a little puppy."</p> + +<p>"And how old are you, son?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ten my last birthday, but I'm so big for my age +I wear 'leven-year-old suits."</p> + +<p>Now the Towncrier hadn't intended to stop, but +the dog began burrowing its head ecstatically against +him, and there was something in the boy's lonesome, +dirty little face which appealed to him, and the next +thing he knew he was sitting on the bottom step of +the Green Stairs with Georgina beside him, telling +the most thrilling pirate story he knew. And he told +it more thrillingly than he had ever told it before. +The reason for this was he had never had such a +spellbound listener before. Not even Justin had +hung on each word with the rapt interest this boy +showed. His dark eyes seemed to grow bigger and +more luminous with each sentence, more intense in +their piercing gaze. His sensitive mouth changed +expression with every phase of the adventure—danger, +suspense, triumph. He scarcely breathed, he +was listening so hard.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the whistle at the cold-storage plant +began to blow for noon, and the old man rose stiffly, +saying:</p> + +<p>"I'm a long way from home, I should have started +back sooner."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you haven't finished the story!" cried the +boy, in distress at this sudden ending. "It <i>couldn't</i> +stop there."</p> + +<p>Georgina caught him by the sleeve of the old blue +jacket to pull him back to the seat beside her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>Please</i>, Uncle Darcy!"</p> + +<p>It was the first time in all her coaxing that that +magic word failed to bend him to her wishes.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered firmly, "I can't finish it now, +but I'll tell you what I'll do. This afternoon I'll row +up to this end of the beach in my dory and take you +two children out to the weirs to see the net hauled +in. There's apt to be a big catch of squid worth +going to see, and I'll finish the story on the way. +Will that suit you?"</p> + +<p>Richard stood up, as eager and excited as Captain +Kidd always was when anybody said "Rats!" +But the next instant the light died out of his eyes and +he plumped himself gloomily down on the step, as +if life were no longer worth living.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother!" he exclaimed. "I forgot. I can't +go anywhere. Dad's painting my portrait, and I +have to stick around so's he can work on it any old +time he feels like it. That's why he brought me on +this visit with him, so's he can finish it up here."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you can beg off, just for to-day," suggested +Mr. Darcy.</p> + +<p>"No, it's very important," he explained gravely. +"It's the best one Daddy's done yet, and the last +thing before we left home Aunt Letty said, 'Whatever +you do, boys, don't let anything interfere with +getting that picture done in time to hang in the exhibition,' +and we both promised."</p> + +<p>There was gloomy silence for a moment, broken +by the old man's cheerful voice.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, don't you worry till you see what we can do. +I want to see your father anyhow about this bill-case +business, so I'll come around this afternoon, and if +he doesn't let you off to-day maybe he will to-morrow. +Just trust your Uncle Darcy for getting where he +starts out to go. Skip along home, Georgina, and +tell your mother I want to borrow you for the afternoon."</p> + +<p>An excited little pink whirlwind with a jumping +rope going over and over its head, went flying up +the street toward the end of the beach. A smiling +old man with age looking out of his faded blue eyes +but with the spirit of boyhood undimmed in his +heart, walked slowly down towards the town. And +on the bottom step of the Green Stairs, his arm +around Captain Kidd, the boy sat watching them, +looking from one to the other as long as they were +in sight. The heart of him was pounding deliciously +to the music of such phrases as, "<i>Fathoms deep, +lonely beach, spade and pickaxe, skull and cross-bones, +bags of golden doubloons and chests of ducats +and pearls!</i>"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/i008.png" width="300" height="153" alt="dog" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF PIRATES</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE weirs, to which they took their way that +afternoon in the Towncrier's dory, <i>The Betsey</i>, +was "the biggest fish-trap in any waters thereabouts," +the old man told them. And it happened that the +net held an unusually large catch that day. Barrels +and barrels of flapping squid and mackerel were +emptied into the big motor boat anchored alongside +of it.</div> + +<p>At a word from Uncle Darcy, an obliging fisherman +in oilskins held out his hand to help the children +scramble over the side of <i>The Betsey</i> to a seat +on top of the cabin where they could have a better +view. All the crew were Portuguese. The man who +helped them climb over was Joe Fayal, father of +Manuel and Joseph and Rosa. He stood like a +young brown Neptune, his white teeth flashing when +he laughed, a pitchfork in his hands with which +to spear the goosefish as they turned up in the net, +and throw them back into the sea. If nothing else +had happened that sight alone was enough to mark +it as a memorable afternoon.</p> + +<p>Nothing else did happen, really, except that on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +the way out, Uncle Darcy finished the story begun +on the Green Stairs and on the way back told them +another. But what Richard remembered ever after +as seeming to have happened, was that <i>The Betsey</i> +suddenly turned into a Brigantine. Perched up on +one of the masts, an unseen spectator, he watched a +mutiny flare up among the sailors, and saw that +"strutting, swaggering villain, John Quelch, throw +the captain overboard and take command himself." +He saw them hoist a flag they called "Old Roger," +"having in the middle of it an Anatomy (skeleton) +with an hour-glass in one hand and a dart in the +heart with three drops of blood proceeding from +it."</p> + +<p>He heard the roar that went up from all those +bearded throats—(wonderful how Uncle Darcy's +thin, quavering voice could sound that whole +chorus)——</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Of all the lives, I ever say,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A Pirate's be for I.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hap what hap may, he's allus gay</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">An' drinks an' bungs his eye.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For his work he's never loth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">An' a-pleasurin' he'll go</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Tho' certain sure to be popt off.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Yo ho, with the rum below."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>And then they made after the Portuguese vessels,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +nine of them, and took them all (What a bloody fight +it was!), and sailed away with a dazzling store of +treasure, "enough to make an honest sailorman rub +his eyes and stagger in his tracks."</p> + +<p>Richard had not been brought up on stories as +Georgina had. He had had few of this kind, and +none so breathlessly realistic. It carried him out +of himself so completely that as they rowed slowly +back to town he did not see a single house in it, although +every western window-pane flashed back the +out-going sun like a golden mirror. His serious, +brown eyes were following the adventures of these +bold sea-robbers, "marooned three times and +wounded nine and blowed up in the air."</p> + +<p>When all of a sudden the brigantine changed back +into <i>The Betsey</i>, and he had to climb out at the boat-landing, +he had somewhat of the dazed feeling of +that honest sailor-man. He had heard enough to +make him "rub his eyes and stagger in his tracks."</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy, having put them ashore, rowed off +with the parting injunction to skip along home. +Georgina did skip, so light of foot and quick of +movement that she was in the lead all the way to the +Green Stairs. There she paused and waited for +Richard to join her. As he came up he spoke for +the first time since leaving the weirs.</p> + +<p>"Wish I knew the boys in this town. Wish I +knew which one would be the best to get to go digging +with me."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<img src="images/i009.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p>Georgina did not need to ask, "digging for what?" +She, too, had been thinking of buried treasure.</p> + +<p>"<i>I'll</i> go with you," she volunteered sweetly.</p> + +<p>He turned on her an inquiring look, as if he were +taking her measure, then glanced away indifferently.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't. You're a girl."</p> + +<p>It was a matter-of-fact statement with no suspicion +of a taunt in it, but it stung Georgina's pride. +Her eyes blazed defiantly and she tossed back her +curls with a proud little uplift of the chin. It must +be acknowledged that her nose, too, took on the +trifle of a tilt. Her challenge was unspoken but so +evident that he answered it.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know you couldn't creep out into the +night and go along a lonely shore into dark caves +and everything."</p> + +<p>"<i>Pity</i> I couldn't!" she answered with withering +scorn. "I could go anywhere <i>you</i> could, anybody +descended from heroes like <i>I</i> am. I don't want to be +braggity, but I'd have you to know they put up that +big monument over there for one of them, and another +was a Minute-man. With all that, for you +to think I'd be afraid! <i>Tut!</i>"</p> + +<p>Not Tippy herself had ever spoken that word +with finer scorn. With a flirt of her short skirts +Georgina turned and started disdainfully up the +street.</p> + +<p>"Wait," called Richard. He liked the sudden +flare-up of her manner. There was something convincing +about it. Besides, he didn't want her to go +off in that independent way as if she meant never to +come back. It was she who had brought the Towncrier, +that matchless Teller of Tales, across his path.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say you wasn't brave," he called after +her.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, then stopped, turning half-way +around.</p> + +<p>"I just said you was a girl. Most of them <i>are</i> +'fraid cats, but if you ain't I don't know as I'd mind +taking you along. That is," he added cautiously, "if +I could be dead sure that you're game."</p> + +<p>At that Georgina turned all the way around and +came back a few steps.</p> + +<p>"You can try me," she answered, anxious to prove +herself worthy to be taken on such a quest, and as +eager as he to begin it.</p> + +<p>"You think of the thing you're most afraid of +yourself, and tell me to do it, and then just watch +me."</p> + +<p>Richard declined to admit any fear of anything. +Georgina named several terrors at which he stoutly +shook his head, but presently with uncanny insight +she touched upon his weakest point.</p> + +<p>"Would you be afraid of coffins and spooks or to +go to a graveyard in the dead of the night the way +Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn did?"</p> + +<p>Not having read Tom Sawyer, Richard evaded the +question by asking, "How did they do?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a><br /><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you know? They had the dead cat +and they saw old Injun Joe come with the lantern and +kill the man that was with Muff Potter."</p> + +<p>By the time Georgina had given the bare outline of +the story in her dramatic way, Richard was quite sure +that no power under heaven could entice him into a +graveyard at midnight, though nothing could have +induced him to admit this to Georgina. As far back +as he could remember he had had an unreasoning +dread of coffins. Even now, big as he was, big +enough to wear "'leven-year-old suits," nothing +could tempt him into a furniture shop for fear of +seeing a coffin.</p> + +<p>One of his earliest recollections was of his nurse +taking him into a little shop, at some village where +they were spending the summer, and his cold terror +when he found himself directly beside a long brown +one, smelling of varnish, and with silver handles. +His nurse's tales had much to do with creating this +repulsion, also her threat of shutting him up in a +coffin if he wasn't a good boy. When she found +that she could exact obedience by keeping that dread +hanging over him, she used the threat daily.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said finally. "I'll +let you go digging with me if you're game enough to +go to the graveyard and walk clear across it all by +yourself and"—dropping his voice to a hollow whisper—"<i>touch—ten—tombstones!</i>"</p> + +<p>Now, if Richard hadn't dropped his voice in that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +scary way when he said, "and touch ten tombstones," +it would have been no test at all of Georgina's courage. +Strange, how just his way of saying those four +words suddenly made the act such a fearsome one.</p> + +<p>"Do it right now," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"But it isn't night yet," she answered, "let alone +being mid-night."</p> + +<p>"No, but it's clouding up, and the sun's down. By +the time we'd get to a graveyard it would be dark +enough for me to tell if you're game."</p> + +<p>Up to this time Georgina had never gone anywhere +without permission. But this was something +one couldn't explain very well at home. It seemed +better to do it first and explain afterward.</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes later, two children and a dog +arrived hot and panting at the entrance to the old +burying ground. On a high sand dune, covered with +thin patches of beach and poverty grass, and a sparse +growth of scraggly pines, it was a desolate spot at +any time, and now doubly so in the gathering twilight. +The lichen-covered slabs that marked the +graves of the early settlers leaned this way and that +along the hill.</p> + +<p>The gate was locked, but Georgina found a place +where the palings were loose, and squeezed through, +leaving Richard and the dog outside. They watched +her through the fence as she toiled up the steep hill. +The sand was so deep that she plunged in over her +shoe-tops at every step. Once on top it was easier<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +going. The matted beach grass made a firm turf. +She stopped and read the names on some of the +slabs before she plucked up courage to touch one. +She would not have hesitated an instant if only +Richard had not dared her in that scary way.</p> + +<p>Some little, wild creature started up out of the +grass ahead of her and scurried away. Her heart +beat so fast she could hear the blood pounding +against her ear-drums. She looked back. Richard +was watching, and she was to wave her hand each +time she touched a stone so that he could keep count +with her. She stooped and peered at one, trying to +read the inscription. The clouds had hurried the +coming of twilight. It was hard to decipher the +words.</p> + +<p>"None knew him but to love him," she read slowly. +Instantly her dread of the place vanished. She laid +her hand on the stone and then waved to Richard. +Then she ran on and read and touched another. +"Lost at sea," that one said, and under the next slabs +slept "Deliverance" and "Experience," "Mercy," +and "Thankful." What queer names people had in +those early days! And what strange pictures they +etched in the stone of those old gray slabs—urns and +angels and weeping willows!</p> + +<p>She signaled the tenth and last. Richard wondered +why she did not turn and come back. At the +highest point of the hill she stood as if transfixed, a +slim little silhouette against the darkening sky, her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +hands clasped in amazement. Suddenly she turned +and came tearing down the hill, floundering through +sand, falling and picking herself up, only to flounder +and fall again, finally rolling down the last few yards +of the embankment.</p> + +<p>"What scared you?" asked Richard, his eyes big +with excitement as he watched what seemed to be +her terrified exit. "What did you see?" But she +would not speak until she had squeezed between the +palings and stood beside him. Then she told him +in an impressive whisper, glancing furtively over her +shoulder:</p> + +<p>"There's a whole row of tombstones up there +with <i>skulls and cross-bones on them! They must +be pirate graves!</i>"</p> + +<p>Her mysterious air was so contagious that he answered +in a whisper, and in a moment each was +convinced by the other's mere manner that their suspicion +was true. Presently Georgina spoke in her +natural voice.</p> + +<p>"You go up and look at them."</p> + +<p>"Naw, I'll take your word for it," he answered +in a patronizing tone. "Besides, there isn't time +now. It's getting too dark. They'll be expecting me +home to supper."</p> + +<p>Georgina glanced about her. The clouds settling +heavily made it seem later than it really was. She +had a guilty feeling that Barby was worrying about +her long absence, maybe imagining that something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +had happened to <i>The Betsey</i>. She started homeward, +half running, but her pace slackened as Richard, +hurrying along beside her, began to plan what +they would do with their treasure when they found +it.</p> + +<p>"There's sure to be piles of buried gold around +here," he said. "Those pirate graves prove that a +lot of 'em lived here once. Let's buy a moving picture +show first."</p> + +<p>Georgina's face grew radiant at this tacit admission +of herself into partnership.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she assented joyfully. "And then we +can have moving pictures made of <i>us</i> doing all sorts +of things. Won't it be fun to sit back and watch +ourselves and see how we look doing 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Say! that's great," he exclaimed. "All the kids +in town will want to be in the pictures, too, but we'll +have the say-so, and only those who do exactly to suit +us can have a chance of getting in."</p> + +<p>"But the more we let in the more money we'd +make in the show," was Georgina's shrewd answer. +"Everybody will want to see what their child looks +like in the movies, so, of course, that'll make people +come to our show instead of the other ones."</p> + +<p>"Say," was the admiring reply. "You're a partner +worth having. You've got a <i>head</i>."</p> + +<p>Such praise was the sweetest incense to Georgina. +She burned to call forth more.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I can think of lots of things when once I +get started," she assured him with a grand air.</p> + +<p>As they ran along Richard glanced several times +at the head from which had come such valuable suggestions. +There was a gleam of gold in the brown +curls which bobbed over her shoulders. He liked +it. He hadn't noticed before that her hair was +pretty.</p> + +<p>There was a gleam of gold, also, in the thoughts +of each. They could fairly see the nuggets they +were soon to unearth, and their imaginations, each +fired by the other, shoveled out the coin which the +picture show was to yield them, in the same way that +the fisherman had shoveled the shining mackerel into +the boat. They had not attempted to count them, +simply measured them by the barrelful.</p> + +<p>"Don't tell anybody," Richard counseled her as +they parted at the Green Stairs. "Cross your heart +and body you won't tell a soul. We want to surprise +'em."</p> + +<p>Georgina gave the required sign and promise, as +gravely as if it were an oath.</p> + +<p>From the front porch Richard's father and cousin, +James Milford, watched him climb slowly up the +Green Stairs.</p> + +<p>"Dicky looks as if the affairs of the nation were +on his shoulders," observed Cousin James. "Pity he +doesn't realize these are his care-free days."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They're not," answered the elder Richard. +"They're the most deadly serious ones he'll ever +have. I don't know what he's got on his mind now, +but whatever it is I'll wager it is more important +business than that deal you're trying to pull off with +the Cold Storage people."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 209px;"> +<img src="images/i010.png" width="209" height="400" alt="two kids sitting on dock posts" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>SPEND-THE-DAY GUESTS</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THERE was a storm that night and next day a +heavy fog dropped down like a thick white veil +over town and sea. It was so cold that Jeremy +lighted a fire, not only in the living room but in the +guest chamber across the hall.</div> + +<p>A week earlier Tippy had announced, "It'll never +do to let Cousin Mehitable Huntingdon go back to +Hyannis without having broken bread with us. She'd +talk about it to the end of her days, if we were the +only relations in town who failed to ask her in to a +meal, during her fortnight's visit. And, of course, +if we ask her, all the family she's staying with ought +to be invited, and we've never had the new minister +and his wife here to eat. Might as well do it all up +at once while we're about it."</p> + +<p>Spend-the-day guests were rare in Georgina's experience. +The grand preparations for their entertainment +which went on that morning put the new +partnership and the treasure-quest far into the background. +She forgot it entirely while the dining-room +table, stretched to its limit, was being set with the +best china and silver as if for a Thanksgiving feast.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +Mrs. Fayal, the mother of Manuel and Joseph and +Rosa, came over to help in the kitchen, and Tippy +whisked around so fast that Georgina, tagging after, +was continually meeting her coming back.</p> + +<p>Georgina was following to ask questions about the +expected guests. She liked the gruesome sound of +that term "blood relations" as Tippy used it, and +wanted to know all about this recently discovered +"in-law," the widow of her grandfather's cousin, +Thomas Huntingdon. Barby could not tell her and +Mrs. Triplett, too busy to be bothered, set her down +to turn the leaves of the family album. But the +photograph of Cousin Mehitable had been taken +when she was a boarding-school miss in a disfiguring +hat and basque, and bore little resemblance to the +imposing personage who headed the procession of +visitors, arriving promptly at eleven o'clock.</p> + +<p>When Cousin Mehitable came into the room in her +widow's bonnet with the long black veil hanging +down behind, she seemed to fill the place as the +massive black walnut wardrobe upstairs filled the alcove. +She lifted her eyeglasses from the hook on her +dress to her hooked nose to look at Georgina before +she kissed her. Under that gaze the child felt as +awed as if the big wardrobe had bent over and put +a wooden kiss on her forehead and said in a deep, +whispery sort of voice, "So this is the Judge's granddaughter. +How do you do, my dear?"</p> + +<p>All the guests were middle aged and most of them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +portly. There were so many that they filled all the +chairs and the long claw-foot sofa besides. Georgina +sat on a foot-stool, her hands folded in her lap +until the others took out their knitting and embroidery. +Then she ran to get the napkin she was hemming. +The husbands who had been invited did not +arrive until time to sit down to dinner and they left +immediately after the feast.</p> + +<p>Georgina wished that everybody would keep still +and let one guest at a time do the talking. After the +first few minutes of general conversation the circle +broke into little groups, and it wasn't possible to follow +the thread of the story in more than one. Each +group kept bringing to light some bit of family history +that she wanted to hear or some old family joke +which they laughed over as if it were the funniest +thing that ever happened. It was tantalizing not to +be able to hear them all. It made her think of times +when she rummaged through the chests in the attic, +pulling out fascinating old garments and holding +them up for Tippy to supply their history. But this +was as bad as opening all the chests at once. While +she was busy with one she was missing all that was +being hauled out to the light of day from the others.</p> + +<p>Several times she moved her foot-stool from one +group to another, drawn by some sentence such as, +"Well, she certainly was the prettiest bride I ever +laid my two eyes on, but not many of us would want +to stand in her shoes now." Or from across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +room, "They do say it was what happened the night +of the wreck that unbalanced his mind, but I've always +thought it was having things go at sixes and +sevens at home as they did."</p> + +<p>Georgina would have settled herself permanently +near Cousin Mehitable, she being the most dramatic +and voluble of them all, but she had a tantalizing +way of lowering her voice at the most interesting +part, and whispering the last sentence behind her +hand. Georgina was nearly consumed with curiosity +each time that happened, and fairly ached to know +these whispered revelations.</p> + +<p>It was an entrancing day—the dinner so good, the +ancient jokes passing around the table all so new and +witty to Georgina, hearing them now for the first +time. She wished that a storm would come up to keep +everybody at the house overnight and thus prolong +the festal feeling. She liked this "Company" atmosphere +in which everyone seemed to grow expansive +of soul and gracious of speech. She loved every +relative she had to the remotest "in-law."</p> + +<p>Her heart swelled with a great thankfulness to +think that she was not an orphan. Had she been one +there would have been no one to remark that her eyes +were exactly like Justin's and she carried herself like +a Huntingdon, but that she must have inherited her +smile from the other side of the house. Barbara had +that same smile and winning way with her. It was +pleasant to be discussed when only pleasant things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +were said, and to have her neat stitches exclaimed +over and praised as they were passed around.</p> + +<p>She thought about it again after dinner, and felt so +sorry for children who were orphans, that she decided +to spend a large part of her share of the buried +treasure in making them happy. She was sure that +Richard would give part of his share, too, when he +found it, and when the picture show which they were +going to buy was in good running order, they would +make it a rule that orphans should always be let in +free.</p> + +<p>She came back from this pleasant day-dream to +hear Cousin Mehitable saying, "Speaking of thieves, +does anyone know what ever became of poor Dan +Darcy?"</p> + +<p>Nobody knew, and they all shook their heads and +said that it was a pity that he had turned out so +badly. It was hard to believe it of him when he +had always been such a kind, pleasant-spoken boy, +just like his father; and if ever there was an honest +soul in the whole round world it was the old Towncrier.</p> + +<p>At that Georgina gave such a start that she ran +her needle into her thumb, and a tiny drop of blood +spurted out. She did not know that Uncle Darcy +had a son. She had never heard his name mentioned +before. She had been at his house many a time, and +there never was anyone there besides himself except +his wife, "Aunt Elspeth" (who was so old and feeble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +that she stayed in bed most of the time), and the +three cats, "John Darcy and Mary Darcy and old +Yellownose." That's the way the old man always +spoke of them. He called them his family.</p> + +<p>Georgina was glad that the minister's wife was a +newcomer in the town and asked to have it explained. +Everybody contributed a scrap of the story, for all +side conversations stopped at the mention of Dan +Darcy's name, and the interest of the whole room +centered on him.</p> + +<p>It was years ago, when he was not more than +eighteen that it happened. He was a happy-go-lucky +sort of fellow who couldn't be kept down to steady +work such as a job in the bank or a store. He was +always off a-fishing or on the water, but everybody +liked him and said he'd settle down when he was a +bit older. He had a friend much like himself, only +a little older. Emmett Potter was his name. There +was a regular David and Jonathan friendship between +those two. They were hand-in-glove in everything +till Dan went wrong. Both even liked the same +girl, Belle Triplett.</p> + +<p>Here Georgina's needle gave her another jab. She +laid down her hemming to listen. This was bringing +the story close home, for Belle Triplett was Tippy's +niece, or rather her husband's niece. While that did +not make Belle one of the Huntingdon family, Georgina +had always looked upon her as such. She visited +at the house oftener than anyone else.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nobody in the room came right out and said what +it was that Dan had done, but by putting the scraps +together Georgina discovered presently that the +trouble was about some stolen money. Lots of people +wouldn't believe that he was guilty at first, but +so many things pointed his way that finally they had +to. The case was about to be brought to trial when +one night Dan suddenly disappeared as if the sea had +swallowed him, and nothing had ever been heard +from him since. Judge Huntingdon said it was a +pity, for even if he was guilty he thought he could +have got him off, there being nothing but circumstantial +evidence.</p> + +<p>Well, it nearly killed his father and mother and +Emmett Potter, too.</p> + +<p>It came out then that Emmett was engaged to +Belle. For nearly a year he grieved about Dan's +disappearance. Seems he took it to heart so that +he couldn't bear to do any of the things they'd always +done together or go to the old places. Belle +had her wedding dress made and thought if she could +once get him down to Truro to live, he'd brace up +and get over it.</p> + +<p>They had settled on the day, when one wild, +stormy night word came that a vessel was pounding +itself to pieces off Peaked Hill Bar, and the life-saving +crew was starting to the rescue. Emmett lit +out to see it, and when something happened to the +breeches buoy so they couldn't use it, he was the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +to answer when the call came for volunteers to man +a boat to put out to them. He would have had a +medal if he'd lived to wear it, for he saved five lives +that night. But he lost his own the last time he +climbed up on the vessel. Nobody knew whether it +was a rope gave way or whether his fingers were so +nearly frozen he couldn't hold on, but he dropped +into that raging sea, and his body was washed up +on the beach next day.</p> + +<p>Georgina listened, horrified.</p> + +<p>"And Belle with her wedding dress all ready," +said Cousin Mehitable with a husky sigh.</p> + +<p>"What became of her?" asked the minister's wife.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's still living here in town, but it blighted +her whole life in a way, although she was just in her +teens when it happened. It helped her to bear up, +knowing he'd died such a hero. Some of the town +people put up a tombstone to his memory, with a +beautiful inscription on it that the summer people +go to see, almost as much as the landing place of the +Pilgrims. She'll be true to his memory always, and +it's something beautiful to see her devotion to Emmett's +father. She calls him "Father" Potter, and +is always doing things for him. He's that old net-mender +who lives alone out on the edge of town +near the cranberry bogs."</p> + +<p>Cousin Mehitable took up the tale:</p> + +<p>"I'll never forget if I live to be a hundred, what +I saw on my way home the night after Emmett was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +drowned. I was living here then, you know. I was +passing through Fishburn Court, and I thought I'd +go in and speak a word to Mr. Darcy, knowing how +fond he'd always been of Emmett on account of Dan +and him being such friends. I went across that sandy +place they call the Court, to the row of cottages at +the end. But I didn't see anything until I had opened +the Darcy's gate and stepped into the yard. The +house sits sideways to the Court, you know.</p> + +<p>"The yellow blind was pulled down over the front +window, but the lamp threw a shadow on it, plain as +a photograph. It was the shadow of the old man, +sitting there with his arms flung out across the table, +and his head bowed down on them. I was just hesitating, +whether to knock or to slip away, when I +heard him groan, and sort of cry out, "Oh, my +Danny! My Danny! If only you could have gone +<i>that</i> way.""</p> + +<p>Barbara, hearing a muffled sob behind her, turned +to see the tears running down Georgina's face. The +next instant she was up, and with her arms around +the child, was gently pushing her ahead of her out +of the room, into the hall. With the door shut +behind her she said soothingly:</p> + +<p>"Barby didn't know they were going to tell such +unhappy stories, darling. I shouldn't have let you +stay."</p> + +<p>"But I <i>want</i> to know," sobbed Georgina. "When +people you love have trouble you ought to know, so's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +to be kinder to them. Oh, Barby, I'm so sorry I +ever was saucy to him. And I wish I hadn't teased +his cats. I tied paper bags on all of John Darcy +and Mary Darcy's paws, and he said I made old +Y-yellownose n-nervous, tickling his ears——"</p> + +<p>Barbara stopped the sobbing confessions with a +kiss and took Georgina's jacket from the hat-rack.</p> + +<p>"Here," she said. "It's bad for you to sit in the +house all day and listen to grown people talk. Slip +into this and run outdoors with your skipping rope +a while. Uncle Darcy has had very great trouble, +but he's learned to bear it like a hero, and nothing +would make him grieve more than to know that any +shadow of his sorrow was making you unhappy. The +way for you to help him most is to be as bright and +jolly as you can, and to <i>tease</i> his old cats once in a +while."</p> + +<p>Georgina looked up through her tears, her dimples +all showing, and threw her arms around her adoringly.</p> + +<p>"What a funny mother you are, Barby. Not a bit +like the ones in books."</p> + +<p>A cold wind was blowing the fog away. She raced +up and down the beach for a long time, and when +she came back it was with red cheeks and ruffled +curls. Having left the company in tears she did +not like to venture back for fear of the remarks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +which might be made. So she crossed the hall and +stood in the door of the guest chamber, considering +what to do next. Its usual chill repellance had been +changed into something inviting by the wood fire on +the hearth, and on the bed where the guests had +deposited their wraps lay an array of millinery which +drew her irresistibly.</p> + +<p>It was a huge four-poster bed which one could +mount only by the aid of a set of bedside steps, and so +high that the valance, draped around it like a skirt, +would have reached from her neck to her heels had +it been draped on her. It was a chintz valance +with birds of paradise patterned on its pink background, +and there was pink silk quilled into the quaint +tester overhead, reminding her of old Jeremy's +favorite quill dahlias.</p> + +<p>Usually when she went into this room which was +seldom opened, she mounted the steps to gaze up +at that fascinating pink loveliness. Also she walked +around the valance, counting its birds of paradise. +She did not do so to-day. She knew from many +previous countings that there were exactly eighty-seven +and a half of those birds. The joining seam +cut off all but the magnificent tail of what would have +been the eighty-eighth.</p> + +<p>Mounting the steps she leaned over, careful not +to touch the crocheted counterpane, which Tippy +always treated as if it were something sacred, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +looked at the hats spread out upon it. Then she laid +daring fingers on Cousin Mehitable's bonnet. It was +a temptation to know what she would look like if +she should grow up to be a widow and have to wear +an imposing head-gear like that with a white ruche +in front and a long black veil floating down behind. +The next instant she was tying the strings under her +chin.</p> + +<p>It made her look like such an odd little dwarf of +a woman that she stuck out her tongue at her reflection +in the mirror. The grimace was so comical, +framed by the stately bonnet, that Georgina was +delighted. She twisted her face another way and +was still more amused at results. Wholly forgetful +of the fact that it was a mourning bonnet, she +went on making faces at herself until the sound of +voices suddenly growing louder, told her that the +door across the hall had opened. Someone was coming +across.</p> + +<p>There was no time to take off the bonnet. +With a frightened gasp she dived under the bed, +with it still on, her heels disappearing just as someone +came into the room. The bed was so high she +could easily sit upright under it, but she was so +afraid that a cough or a sneeze might betray her, +that she drew up her knees and sat with her face +pressed against them hard. The long veil shrouded +her shoulders. She felt that she would surely die if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +anyone should notice that the bonnet was gone, or +happen to lift the valance and find her sitting there +with it on her head. Then she forgot her fear in +listening to what Cousin Mehitable was saying.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i011.png" width="400" height="320" alt="Sailboat and tree" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>"THE TISHBITE"</div> + + +<div class='cap'>COUSIN MEHITABLE was speaking to Mrs. +Triplett, who seemed to be searching through +bureau drawers for something. Georgina could tell +what she was doing from the sounds which reached +her. These drawers always stuck, and had to be +jerked violently until the mirror rattled.</div> + +<p>"Oh, don't bother about it, Maria. I just made +an excuse of wanting to see it, because I knew you +always kept it in here, and I wanted to get you off +by yourself for a minute's talk with you alone. Since +I've been in town I've heard so much about Justin +and the way he is doing that I wanted to ask somebody +who knew and who could tell me the straight +of it. What's this about his leaving the service and +going junketing off to the interior of China on some +mission of his own? Jane tells me he got a year's +leave of absence from the Navy just to study up +some outlandish disease that attacks the sailors in +foreign ports. She says why should he take a whole +year out of the best part of his life to poke around +the huts of dirty heathen to find out the kind of microbe +that's eating 'em? He'd ought to think of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +Barbara and what's eating her heart out. I've taken +a great fancy to that girl, and I'd like to give Justin +a piece of my mind. It probably wouldn't do a bit +of good though. He always was peculiar."</p> + +<p>Georgina could hear only a few words of the +answer because Tippy had her head in the closet now, +reaching for the box on the top shelf. She stopped +her search as soon as Cousin Mehitable said that, and +the two of them went over to the fire and talked in +low tones for a few minutes, leaning against the +mantel. Georgina heard a word now and then. Several +times it was her own name. Finally, in a louder +tone Cousin Mehitable said:</p> + +<p>"Well, I wanted to know, and I was sure you +could tell me if anyone could."</p> + +<p>They went back across the hall to the other guests. +The instant they were gone Georgina crawled out +from under the bed with the big bonnet cocked over +one eye. Then she scudded down the hall and up the +back stairs. She knew the company would be going +soon, and she would be expected to bid them good-bye +if she were there. She didn't want Cousin +Mehitable to kiss her again. She didn't like her +any more since she had called her father "peculiar."</p> + +<p>She wandered aimlessly about for a few minutes, +then pushed the door open into Mrs. Triplett's room. +It was warm and cozy in there for a small fire still +burned in the little drum stove. She opened the front +damper to make it burn faster, and the light shone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +out in four long rays which made a flickering in the +room. She sat down on the floor in front of it and +began to wonder.</p> + +<p>"What did Cousin Mehitable mean by something +eating Barby's heart out?" Did people die of it? +She had read of the Spartan youth who let the fox +gnaw his vitals under his cloak and never showed, +even by the twitching of a muscle, that he was in +pain. Of course, she knew that no live thing was +tearing at her mother's heart, but what if something +that she couldn't understand was hurting her darling +Barby night and day and she was bravely hiding it +from the world like the Spartan youth?</p> + +<p>Did <i>all</i> grown people have troubles? It had +seemed such a happy world until to-day, and now all +at once she had heard about Dan Darcy and Belle +Triplett. Nearly everyone whom the guests talked +about had borne some unhappiness, and even her own +father was "peculiar." She wished she hadn't found +out all these things. A great weight seemed to settle +down upon her.</p> + +<p>Thinking of Barbara in the light of what she had +just learned she recalled that she often looked sorry +and disappointed, especially after the postman had +come and gone without leaving a letter. Only this +morning Tippy had said—could it be she thought +something was wrong and was trying to comfort her?</p> + +<p>"Justin always was a poor hand for writing letters. +Many a time I've heard the Judge scolding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +and stewing around because he hadn't heard from +him when he was away at school. Letter writing +came so easy to the Judge he couldn't understand why +Justin shirked it so."</p> + +<p>Then Georgina thought of Belle in the light of +what she had just learned. Belle had carried her +around in her arms when she was first brought to +live in this old gray house by the sea. She had made +a companion of her whenever she came to visit her +Aunt Maria, and Georgina had admired her because +she was so pretty and blonde and gentle, and enjoyed +her because she was always so willing to do whatever +Georgina wished. And now to think that instead of +being the like-everybody-else kind of a young lady +she seemed, she was like a heroine in a book who +had lived through trouble which would "blight her +whole life."</p> + +<p>Sitting there on the floor with her knees drawn up +and her chin resting on them, Georgina looked into +the fire through the slits of the damper and thought +and thought. Then she looked out through the little +square window-panes across the wind-swept dunes. +It did not seem like summer with the sky all overcast +with clouds. It was more like the end of a day +in the early autumn. Life seemed overcast, too.</p> + +<p>Presently through a rift in the sky an early star +stole out, and she made a wish on it. That was one +of the things Belle had taught her. She started to +wish that Barby might be happy. But before the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +whispered verse had entirely passed her lips she +stopped to amend it, adding Uncle Darcy's name and +Belle's. Then she stopped again, overcome by the +knowledge of all the woe in the world, and gathering +all the universe into her generous little heart she +exclaimed earnestly:</p> + +<p>"I wish <i>everybody in the world could be happy</i>."</p> + +<p>Having made the wish, fervently, almost fiercely, +in her intense desire to set things right, she scrambled +to her feet. There was another thing that Belle +had told her which she must do.</p> + +<p>"If you open the Bible and it chances to be at a +chapter beginning with the words, 'It came to pass,' +the wish will come true without fail."</p> + +<p>Taking Tippy's Bible from the stand beside the +bed, she opened it at random, then carried it over to +the stove in order to scan the pages by the firelight +streaming through the damper. The book opened +at First Kings, seventeenth chapter. She held it directly +in the broad rays examining the pages anxiously. +There was only that one chapter head on +either page, and alas, its opening words were not +"it came to pass." What she read with a sinking +heart was:</p> + +<p>"<i>And Elijah the Tishbite.</i>"</p> + +<p>Now Georgina hadn't the slightest idea what a +Tishbite was, but it sounded as if it were something +dreadful. Somehow it is a thousand times worse to +be scared by a fear which is not understood than by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +one which is familiar. Suddenly she felt as bewildered +and frightened as she had on that morning long +ago, when Jeremy's teeth went flying into the fire. +The happiness of her whole little world seemed to be +going to pieces.</p> + +<p>Throwing herself across the foot of Tippy's bed +she crawled under the afghan thrown over it, even +burrowing her head beneath it in order to shut out +the dreadful things closing down on her. It had +puzzled and frightened her to know that something +was eating Barby's heart out, even in a figurative +way, and now the word "Tishbite" filled her with a +vague sense of helplessness and impending disaster.</p> + +<p>Barbara, coming upstairs to hunt her after the +guests were gone, found her sound asleep with the +afghan still over her head. She folded it gently back +from the flushed face, not intending to waken her, +but Georgina's eyes opened and after a bewildered +stare around the room she sat up, remembering. She +had wakened to a world of trouble. Somehow it did +not seem quite so bad with Barbara standing over +her, smiling. When she went downstairs a little +later, freshly washed and brushed, the Tishbite rolled +out of her thoughts as a fog lifts when the sun shines.</p> + +<p>But it came back at bedtime, when having said +her prayers, she joined her voice with Barbara's in +the hymn that had been her earliest lullaby. It was +a custom never omitted. It always closed the day +for her:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Eternal Father, strong to save,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Oh, hear us when we cry to thee</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For those in peril on the sea."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>As they sang she stole an anxious glance at Barbara +several times. Then she made up her mind that +Cousin Mehitable was mistaken. If her father were +"peculiar," Barby wouldn't have that sweet look on +her face when she sang that prayer for him. If he +were making her unhappy she wouldn't be singing it +at all. She wouldn't care whether he was protected +or not "from rock and tempest, fire and foe."</p> + +<p>And yet, after Barby had gone downstairs and +the sound of the piano came softly up from below—another +bedtime custom, Georgina began thinking +again about those whispering voices which she had +heard as she sat under the bed, behind the bird-of-paradise +valance. More than ever before the music +suggested someone waiting for a ship which never +came home, or fog bells on a lonely shore.</p> + +<p>Nearly a week went by before Richard made his +first visit to the old gray house at the end of town. +He came with the Towncrier, carrying his bell, and +keeping close to his side for the first few minutes. +Then he found the place far more interesting than +the bungalow. Georgina took him all over it, from +the garret where she played on rainy days to the +seat up in the willow, where standing in its highest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +crotch one could look clear across the Cape to the +Atlantic. They made several plans for their treasure-quest +while up in the willow. They could see a +place off towards Wood End Lighthouse which +looked like one of the pirate places Uncle Darcy +had described in one of his tales.</p> + +<p>Barby had lemonade and cake waiting for them +when they came down, and when she talked to him +it wasn't at all in the way the ladies did who came +to see his Aunt Letty, as if they were talking merely +to be gracious and kind to a strange little boy in +whom they had no interest. Barby gave his ear a +tweak and said with a smile that made him feel as if +they had known each other always:</p> + +<p>"Oh, the good times I've had with boys just your +size. I always played with my brother Eddy's +friends. Boys make such good chums. I've often +thought how much Georgina misses that I had."</p> + +<p>Presently Georgina took him out to the see-saw, +where Captain Kidd persisted in riding on Richard's +end of the plank.</p> + +<p>"That's exactly the way my Uncle Eddy's terrier +used to do back in Kentucky when I visited there one +summer," she said, after the plank was adjusted so +as to balance them properly. "Only he barked all +the time he was riding. But he was fierce because +Uncle Eddy fed him gunpowder."</p> + +<p>"What did he do that for?"</p> + +<p>"To keep him from being gun-shy. And Uncle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +Eddy ate some, too, one time when he was little, +because the colored stable boy told him it would make +him game."</p> + +<p>"Did it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether that did or not. Something +did though, for he's the gamest man I know."</p> + +<p>Richard considered this a moment and then said:</p> + +<p>"I wonder what it would do to Captain Kidd if I +fed him some."</p> + +<p>"Let's try it!" exclaimed Georgina, delighted with +the suggestion. "There's some hanging up in the +old powder-horn over the dining-room mantel. You +have to give it to 'em in milk. Wait a minute."</p> + +<p>Jumping from the see-saw after giving fair warning, +she ran to one of the side windows.</p> + +<p>"Barby," she called. "I'm going to give Captain +Kidd some milk."</p> + +<p>Barbara turned from her conversation with Uncle +Darcy to say:</p> + +<p>"Very well, if you can get it yourself. But be +careful not to disturb the pans that haven't been +skimmed. Tippy wouldn't like it."</p> + +<p>"I know what to get it out of," called Georgina, +"out of the blue pitcher."</p> + +<p>Richard watched while she opened the refrigerator +door and poured some milk into a saucer.</p> + +<p>"Carry it in and put it on the kitchen table," she +bade him, "while I get the powder."</p> + +<p>When he followed her into the dining-room she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +was upon a chair, reaching for the old powder horn, +which hung on a hook under the firearm that had +done duty in the battle of Lexington. Richard +wanted to get his hands on it, and was glad when +she could not pull out the wooden plug which stopped +the small end of the horn. She turned it over to him +to open. He peered into it, then shook it.</p> + +<p>"There isn't more than a spoonful left in it," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Well, gunpowder is so strong you don't need +much. You know just a little will make a gun go off. +It mightn't be safe to feed him much. Pour some +out in your hand and drop it in the milk."</p> + +<p>Richard slowly poured a small mound out into the +hollow of his hand, and passed the horn back to her, +then went to the kitchen whistling for Captain Kidd. +Not all of the powder went into the milk, however. +The last bit he swallowed himself, after looking at +it long and thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>At the same moment, Georgina, before putting +back the plug, paused, looked all around, and poured +out a few grains into her own hand. If the Tishbite +was going to do anybody any harm, it would be well +to be prepared. She had just hastily swallowed it +and was hanging the horn back in place, when Richard +returned.</p> + +<p>"He lapped up the last drop as if he liked it," he +reported. "Now we'll see what happens."</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE TELEGRAM THAT TOOK BARBY AWAY</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE painting of Richard's portrait interfered +with the quest for buried treasure from day to +day; but unbeknown either to artist or model, the +dreams of that quest helped in the fashioning of the +picture. In the preliminary sittings in the studio at +home Richard's father found it necessary always to +begin with some exhortation such as:</div> + +<p>"Now, Dicky, this has <i>got</i> to be more than just +a 'Study of a Boy's Head.' I want to show by the +expression of your face that it is an illustration of +that poem, 'A boy's will is the wind's will, and the +thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.' Chase +that Binney Rogers and his gang out of your mind +for a while, can't you, and think of something beside +shinny and the hokey-pokey man."</p> + +<p>So far the portrait was satisfactory in that it was +a remarkably good likeness of an unusually good-looking +boy, but it was of a boy who seemed to be +alertly listening for such things as Binney's cat-call, +signaling him from the alley. Here by the sea there +was no need for such exhortations. No sooner was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +he seated before the easel in the loft which served as +a studio, with its barn-like, double doors thrown open +above the water, than the rapt expression which his +father coveted, crept into his dark eyes. They grew +big and dreamy, following the white sails across the +harbor. He was planning the secret expedition he +and Georgina intended to undertake, just as soon as +the portrait was finished.</p> + +<p>There were many preparations to make for it. +They would have to secrete tools and provisions; and +in a book from which Georgina read aloud whenever +there was opportunity, were descriptions of various +rites that it were well to perform. One was to sacrifice +a black cock, and sprinkle its blood upon the +spot before beginning to dig. Richard did not question +why this should be done. The book recommended +it as a practice which had been followed by +some very famous treasure hunters. If at times a +certain wide-awake and calculating gleam suddenly +dispelled the dreaminess of expression in which his +father was exulting, it was because a black Orpington +rooster which daily strayed from a nearby cottage +to the beach below the studio window, chose that +moment to crow. Richard had marked that black +cock for the sacrifice. It was lordly enough to bring +success upon any enterprise.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, as soon as his duties as model +were over each morning, he was out of the studio +with a whoop and up the beach as hard as he could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +run to the Huntingdon house. By the time he +reached it he was no longer the artist's only son, +hedged about with many limitations which belonged +to that distinction. He was "Dare-devil Dick, the +Dread Destroyer," and Georgina was "Gory +George, the Menace of the Main."</p> + +<p>Together they commanded a brigantine of their +own. Passers-by saw only an old sailboat anchored +at the deserted and rotting wharf up nearest the +breakwater. But the passers-by who saw only that +failed to see either Dare-devil Dick or Gory George. +They saw, instead, two children whose fierce mustachios +were the streakings of a burnt match, whose +massive hoop ear-rings were the brass rings from a +curtain pole, whose faithful following of the acts +of Captain Quelch and other piratical gentlemen was +only the mimicry of play.</p> + +<p>But Barbara knew how real they were, from the +spotted handkerchief tied around the "bunged eye" +of Dare-devil Dick, under his evil-looking slouch +hat, to the old horse pistol buckled to his belt. Gory +George wore the same. And Barbara knew what +serious business it was to them, even more serious +than the affairs of eating and drinking.</p> + +<p>Tippy scolded when she found that her half-pint +bottles which she kept especially for cream had been +smuggled away in the hold of the brigantine. But +without bottles how could one give a realistic touch +to the singing of "Yo ho, and the rum below"?</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>And Tippy thought it was heathenish for Barbara +to let Georgina dress up in some little knickerbockers +and a roundabout which had been stored away with +other clothes worn by Justin as a small boy. But +her disapproval was beyond words when Barbara +herself appeared at the back door one morning, so +cleverly disguised as a gypsy, that Mrs. Triplett +grudgingly handed out some cold biscuits before she +discovered the imposition. The poor she was glad +to feed, but she had no use for an impudent, strolling +gypsy.</p> + +<p>"Don't be cross, Tippy," pleaded Barbara, laughing +till the tears came. "I <i>had</i> to do it. I can't bear +to feel that Georgina is growing away from me—that +she is satisfied to leave me out of her games. +Since she's so taken up with that little Richard Moreland +I don't seem as necessary to her as I used to +be. And I can't bear that, Tippy, when I've always +been first in everything with her. She's so necessary +to me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett made no answer. She felt that she +couldn't do justice to the occasion. She doubted if +the Pilgrim monument itself could, even if it were +to stretch itself up to its full height and deliver a +lecture on the dignity of motherhood. She wondered +what the Mayflower mothers would have thought if +they could have met this modern one on the beach, +with face stained brown, playacting that she was a +beggar of a gypsy. How could she hope to be one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +of those written of in Proverbs—"Her children rise +up and call her blessed. Her own works praise her +in the gates."</p> + +<p>Tippy ate her dinner alone that day, glancing +grimly through the open window from time to time +to the sand dunes back of the house, where an old +hag of a gypsy in a short red dress with a gay bandanna +knotted over her head, broiled bacon and +boiled corn over a smoky campfire; and two swaggering +villains who smelled of tar and codfish (because +of the old net which half-way filled the brigantine), +sucked the very cobs when the corn was eaten from +them, forever registering that feast high above all +other feasts in the tablet of blessed memories.</p> + +<p>The interruption to all this came as unexpectedly +as a clap of thunder from a clear sky. A messenger +boy on a wheel whirled up to the front gate with +a telegram. Tippy signed for it, not wanting the +boy to see Barbara in such outlandish dress, then +carried it out to the picnickers. She held it under her +apron until she reached them. Telegrams always +spelled trouble to Mrs. Triplett, but Barbara took +this one from her with a smiling thank you, without +rising from her seat on the sand. Her father often +telegraphed instead of writing when away on his vacations, +and she knew he was up at a lake resort in +Michigan, at an Editors' Convention. Telegrams +had always been pleasant things in her experience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +But as she tore this open and read she turned pale +even under her brown stain.</p> + +<p>"It's papa," she gasped. "Hurt in an automobile +accident. They don't say how bad—just hurt. And +he wants me. I must take the first train."</p> + +<p>She looked up at Mrs. Triplett helplessly, not even +making an effort to rise from the sand, she was so +dazed and distressed by the sudden summons. It +was the first time she had ever had the shock of bad +news. It was the first time she had ever been called +upon to act for herself in such an emergency, and +she felt perfectly numb, mind and body. Tippy's +voice sounded a mile away when she said:</p> + +<p>"You can catch the boat. It's an hour till the +<i>Dorothy Bradford</i> starts back to Boston."</p> + +<p>Still Barbara sat limp and powerless, as one sits in +a nightmare.</p> + +<p>Georgina gave a choking gasp as two awful words +rose up in her throat and stuck there. "<i>The Tishbite.</i>" +Whatever that mysterious horror might be, +plainly its evil workings had begun.</p> + +<p>"Tut!" exclaimed Tippy, pulling Barbara to her +feet. "Keep your head. You'll have to begin scrubbing +that brown paint off your face if you expect to +reach the boat on time."</p> + +<p>Automatically Georgina responded to that "tut" +as if it were the old challenge of the powder horn. +No matter how she shivered she must show what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +brave stuff she was made of. Even with that awful +foreboding clutching at her heart like an iron hand +and Barby about to leave her, she mustn't show one +sign of her distress.</p> + +<p>It was well that Georgina had learned to move +briskly in her long following after Tippy, else she +could not have been of such service in this emergency. +Her eyes were blurred with tears as she hurried up +to the garret for suitcase and satchel, and down the +hall to look up numbers in the telephone directory. +But it was a comfort even in the midst of her distress +to feel that she could take such an important part in +the preparations, that Tippy trusted her to do the +necessary telephoning, and to put up a lunch for +Barby without dictating either the messages or the +contents of the lunch-box.</p> + +<p>When Mr. James Milford called up, immediately +after Richard had raced home with the news, and +offered to take Mrs. Huntingdon to the boat in his +machine, he thought it was Mrs. Huntingdon herself +who answered him. The trembling voice seemed +only natural under the circumstances. He would +have smiled could he have seen the pathetic little face +uplifted towards the receiver, the quivering lip still +adorned with the fierce mustachios of Gory George, +in strange contrast to the soft curls hanging over her +shoulders now that they were no longer hidden by a +piratical hat. She had forgotten that she was in +knickerbockers instead of skirts, and that the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +horse-pistol was still at her belt, until Barbara caught +her to her at parting with a laugh that turned into +a sob, looking for a spot on her face clean enough to +kiss.</p> + +<p>It was all over so soon—the machine whirling up +to the door and away again to stop at the bank an +instant for the money which Georgina had telephoned +to have waiting, and then on to the railroad wharf +where the <i>Dorothy Bradford</i> had already sounded +her first warning whistle. Georgina had no time to +realize what was actually happening until it was over. +She climbed up into the mammoth willow tree in the +corner of the yard to watch for the steamboat. It +would come into view in a few minutes as it ploughed +majestically through the water towards the lighthouse.</p> + +<p>Then desolation fell upon her. She had never +realized until that moment how dear her mother was +to her. Then the thought came to her, suppose it +was Barby who had been hurt in an accident, and +she Georgina, was hurrying to her as Barby was hurrying +to grandfather Shirley, unknowing what +awaited her at the journey's end. For a moment she +forgot her own unhappiness at being left behind, in +sympathetic understanding of her mother's distress. +She wasn't going to think about her part of it she +told herself, she was going to be so brave——</p> + +<p>Then her glance fell on the "holiday tree."</p> + +<p>The holiday tree was a little evergreen of Barby's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +christening if not of her planting. For every gala +day in the year it bore strange fruit, no matter what +the season. At Hallowe'en it was as gay with jack-o-lanterns +and witches' caps as if the pixies themselves +had decorated it. On Washington's birthday +each branch was tipped with a flag and a cherry tart. +On the fourteenth of February it was hung with valentines, +and at Easter she was always sure of finding +a candy rabbit or two perched among its branches +and nests of colored eggs. It seemed to be at its +best at Christmas, but it was when it took its turns at +birthday celebrations that it was most wonderful. +Then it blossomed with little glass lanterns of every +color, glowing like red and green and golden stars. +Last year it had borne a great toy ship with all sails +set, and nine "surprise" oranges, round, yellow boxes, +each containing a gift, because she was nine years +old. In just two more days she would be ten, and +Barby gone!</p> + +<p>At that instant the boat whistle sounded long and +deep, sending its melodious boom across the water. +It seemed to strike some chord in the very center of +her being, and make her feel as if something inside +were sinking down and down and down. The sensation +was sickening. It grew worse as the boat +steamed away. She stood up on a limb to watch it. +Smaller and smaller it seemed, leaving only a long +plume of smoke in its wake as it disappeared around +Long Point. Then even the smoke faded, and a forlorn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +little figure, strangely at variance with the fierce +pirate suit, she crumpled up in the crotch of the willow, +her face hidden in her elbow, and began to sob +piteously: "Oh, Barby! Barby!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i003.png" width="400" height="282" alt="lighthouse" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE BIRTHDAY PRISM</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Towncrier, passing along the street on an +early morning trip to the bakery, stopped at the +door of the antique shop, for a word with Mrs. +Yates, the lady who kept it. She wanted him to +"cry" an especial bargain sale of old lamps later in +the week. That is how he happened to be standing +in the front door when the crash came in the rear of +the shop, and it was because he was standing there +that the crash came.</div> + +<p>Because Mrs. Yates was talking to him she +couldn't be at the back door when the fish-boy came +with the fish, and nobody being there to take it the +instant he knocked, the boy looked in and threw it +down on the table nearest the door. And because the +fish was left to lie there a moment while Mrs. Yates +finished her conversation, the cat, stretched out on +the high window ledge above the table, decided to +have his breakfast without waiting to be called. He +was an enormous cat by the name of "Grandpa," +and because he was old and ponderous, and no longer +light on his feet, when he leaped from the window-sill +he came down clumsily in the middle of the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +table full of the old lamps which were set aside for +the bargain sale.</p> + +<p>Of course, it was the biggest and fanciest lamp +in the lot that was broken—a tall one with a frosted +glass shade and a row of crystal prisms dangling +around the bowl of it. It toppled over on to a pair +of old brass andirons, smashing into a thousand +pieces. Bits of glass flew in every direction, and +"Grandpa," his fur electrified by his fright until he +looked twice his natural size, shot through the door +as if fired from a cannon, and was seen no more +that morning.</p> + +<p>Naturally, Mrs. Yates hurried to the back of the +store to see what had happened, and Mr. Darcy, following, +picked up from the wreck the only piece of +the lamp not shattered to bits by the fall. It was one +of the prisms, which in some miraculous way had +survived the crash, a beautiful crystal pendant without +a single nick or crack.</p> + +<p>He picked it up and rubbed his coat sleeve down +each of its three sides, and when he held it up to the +light it sent a ripple of rainbows dancing across the +shop. He watched them, pleased as a child; and +when Mrs. Yates, loud in her complaints of Grandpa, +came with broom and dustpan to sweep up the litter, +he bargained with her for the prism.</p> + +<p>That is how he happened to have an offering for +Georgina's birthday when he reached the house a +couple of hours later, not knowing that it was her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +birthday. Nobody had remembered it, Barby being +gone.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Georgina the forlornest day she had +ever opened her eyes upon. The very fact that it +was gloriously sunny with a delicious summer breeze +ruffling the harbor and sending the white sails scudding +along like wings, made her feel all the more +desolate. She was trying her best to forget what day +it was, but there wasn't much to keep her mind off the +subject. Even opportunities for helping Tippy were +taken away, for Belle had come to stay during Barby's +absence, and she insisted on doing what Georgina +otherwise would have done.</p> + +<p>If Barby had been at home there would have been +no piano practice on such a gala occasion as a tenth +birthday. There would have been no time for it in +the program of joyful happenings. But because time +dragged, Georgina went to her scales and five-finger +exercises as usual. With the hour-glass on the piano +beside her, she practised not only her accustomed +time, till the sand had run half through, but until all +but a quarter of it had slipped down. Then she +sauntered listlessly out into the dining-room and +stood by one of the open windows, looking out +through the wire screen into the garden.</p> + +<p>On any other day she would have found entertainment +in the kitchen listening to Belle and Mrs. +Triplett. Belle seemed doubly interesting now that +she had heard of the unused wedding dress and the +sorrow that would "blight her whole life." But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +Georgina did not want anyone to see how bitterly she +was disappointed.</p> + +<p>Just outside, so close to the window that she could +have reached out and touched it had it not been for +the screen, stood the holiday tree. It had held out +its laden arms to her on so many festal occasions +that Georgina had grown to feel that it took a human +interest in all her celebrations. To see it standing +bare now, like any ordinary tree, made her feel that +her last friend was indifferent. Nobody cared. Nobody +was glad that she was in the world. In spite of +all she could do to check them, two big tears welled +up and rolled down her cheeks; then another and another. +She lifted up the hem of her dress to wipe +them away, and as she did so Uncle Darcy came +around the house.</p> + +<p>He looked in at the open window, then asked: +"Weather a bit squally, hey? Better put into port +and tie up till storm's over. Let your Uncle Darcy +have a hand at the helm. Come out here, Barby, and +let's talk it over on the door-step."</p> + +<p>There was something so heartening in the cheery +voice that Georgina made one more dab at her eyes +with the hem of her dress skirt, then dropped it and +went out through the screen door to join him on the +steps which led down into the garden. At first she +was loath to confess the cause of her tears. She felt +ashamed of being caught crying simply because no +one had remembered the date. It wasn't that she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +wanted presents, she sobbed. It was that she wanted +someone to be glad that she'd been born and it was +so lonesome without Barby——</p> + +<p>In the midst of her reluctant confession Mr. +Darcy bethought himself of the prism in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Here," he said, drawing it out. "Take this and +put a rainbow around your troubles. It's a sort of +magic glass. When you look through it, it shows +you things you can't see with your ordinary eyes. +Look what it does to the holiday tree."</p> + +<p>There was a long-drawn breath of amazement +from Georgina as she held the prism to her eyes and +looked through it at the tree.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh! It <i>does</i> put a rainbow around every +branch and every little tuft of green needles. It's +even lovelier than the colored lanterns were. Isn't +it wonderful? It puts a rainbow around the whole +outdoors."</p> + +<p>Her gaze went from the grape arbor to the back +garden gate. Then she jumped up and started +around the house, the old man following, and smiling +over each enthusiastic "oh" she uttered, as the prism +showed her new beauty at every step. He was +pleased to have been the source of her new pleasure.</p> + +<p>"It's like looking into a different world," she cried, +as she reached the kitchen door, and eagerly turned +the prism from one object to another. Mrs. Triplett +was scowling intently over the task of trying to +turn the lid of a glass jar which refused to budge.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, it even puts a rainbow around Tippy's +frown," Georgina cried excitedly. Then she ran to +hold the prism over Belle's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Look, what Uncle Darcy brought me for my +birthday. See how it puts a rainbow around every +blessed thing, even the old black pots and pans!"</p> + +<p>In showing it to Tippy she discovered a tiny hole +in the end of the prism by which it had been hung +from the lamp, and she ran upstairs to find a piece +of ribbon to run through it. When she came down +again, the prism hanging from her neck by a long +pink ribbon, Uncle Darcy greeted her with a new +version of the Banbury Cross song:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Rings on her fingers and ribbon of rose,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She shall have rainbows wherever she goes."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>"That's even better than having music wherever +you go," answered Georgina, whirling around on her +toes. Then she stopped in a listening attitude, hearing +the postman.</p> + +<p>When she came back from the front door with +only a magazine her disappointment was keen, but +she said bravely:</p> + +<p>"Of course, I <i>knew</i> there couldn't be a letter from +Barby this soon. She couldn't get there till last night—but +just for a minute I couldn't help hoping—but +I didn't mind it half so much, Uncle Darcy, when I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +looked at the postman through the prism. Even his +whiskers were blue and red and yellow."</p> + +<p>That afternoon a little boat went dipping up and +down across the waves. It was <i>The Betsey</i>, with +Uncle Darcy pulling at the oars and Georgina as +passenger. Lifting the prism which still hung from +her neck by the pink ribbon, she looked out upon +what seemed to be an enchanted harbor. It was +filled with a fleet of rainbows. Every sail was outlined +with one, every mast edged with lines of red +and gold and blue. Even the gray wharves were +tinged with magical color, and the water itself, to +her reverent thought, suggested the "sea of glass +mingled with fire," which is pictured as one of the +glories of the New Jerusalem.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it <i>wonderful</i>, Uncle Darcy?" she asked in +a hushed, awed tone. "It's just like a miracle the way +this bit of glass changes the whole world. Isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Before he could answer, a shrill whistle sounded +near at hand. They were passing the boathouse on +the beach below the Green Stairs. Looking up they +saw Richard, hanging out of the open doors of the +loft, waving to them. Georgina stood up in the boat +and beckoned, but he shook his head, pointing backward +with his thumb into the studio, and disconsolately +shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"He wants to go <i>so</i> bad!" exclaimed Georgina. +"Seems as if his father's a mighty slow painter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +Maybe if you'd ask him the way you did before, +Uncle Darcy, he'd let Richard off this one more time—being +my birthday, you know."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with the bewitching smile which +he usually found impossible to resist, but this time +he shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't want him along to-day. I've brought +you out here to show you something and have a little +talk with you alone. Maybe I ought to wait till +you're older before I say what I want to say, but at +my time of life I'm liable to slip off without much +warning, and I don't want to go till I've said it to +you."</p> + +<p>Georgina put down her prism to stare at him in +eager-eyed wonder. She was curious to know what +he could show her out here on the water, and what +he wanted to tell her that was as important as his +solemn words implied.</p> + +<p>"Wait till we come to it," he said, answering the +unspoken question in her eyes. And Georgina, who +dearly loved dramatic effects in her own story-telling, +waited for something—she knew not what—to burst +upon her expectant sight.</p> + +<p>They followed the line of the beach for some time, +dodging in between motor boats and launches, under +the high railroad wharf and around the smaller ones +where the old fish-houses stood. Past groups of +children, playing in the sand they went, past artists<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +sketching under their white umbrellas, past gardens +gay with bright masses of color, past drying nets +spread out on the shore.</p> + +<p>Presently Uncle Darcy stopped rowing and +pointed across a vacant strip of beach between two +houses, to one on the opposite side of the street.</p> + +<p>"There it is," he announced. "That's what I +wanted to show you."</p> + +<p>Georgina followed the direction of his pointing +finger.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that!" she said in a disappointed tone. "I've +seen that all my life. It's nothing but the Figurehead +House."</p> + +<p>She was looking at a large white house with a +portico over the front door, on the roof of which +portico was perched half of the wooden figure of a +woman. It was of heroic size, head thrown back as +if looking off to sea, and with a green wreath in its +hands. Weather-beaten and discolored, it was not +an imposing object at first glance, and many a jibe +and laugh it had called forth from passing tourists.</p> + +<p>Georgina's disappointment showed in her face.</p> + +<p>"I know all about that," she remarked. "Mrs. +Tupman told me herself. She calls it the Lady of +Mystery. She said that years and years ago a +schooner put out from this town on a whaling cruise, +and was gone more than a year. When it was crossing +the equator, headed for home, the look-out at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +the masthead saw a strange object in the water that +looked like a woman afloat. The Captain gave orders +to lower the boats, and when they did so they +found this figurehead. She said it must have come +from the prow of some great clipper in the East +India trade. They were in the Indian Ocean, you +know.</p> + +<p>"There had been some frightful storms and afterwards +they heard of many wrecks. This figurehead +was so long they had to cut it in two to get it into +the hold of the vessel. They brought it home and +set it up there over the front door, and they call it +the Lady of Mystery, because they said 'from whence +that ship came, what was its fate and what was its +destination will always be shrouded in mystery.' And +Mrs. Tupman said that a famous artist looked at it +once and said it was probably the work of a Spanish +artist, and that from the pose of its head and the +wreath in its hands he was sure it was intended to +represent Hope. Was <i>that</i> what you were going to +tell me?"</p> + +<p>The old man had rested on his oars while she hurried +through this tale, with a mischievous twinkle in +her eyes, as if she thought she was forestalling him. +Now he picked them up again and began rowing out +into the harbor.</p> + +<p>"That was a part of it," he admitted, "but that's +only the part that the whole town knows. That old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +figurehead has a meaning for me that nobody else +that's living knows about. That's what I want to +pass on to you."</p> + +<p>He rowed several minutes more before he said +slowly, with a wistful tenderness coming into his dim +old eyes as he looked at her:</p> + +<p>"Georgina, I don't suppose anybody's ever told +you about the troubles I've had. They wouldn't talk +about such things to a child like you. Maybe I +shouldn't, now; but when I saw how disappointed +you were this morning, I said to myself, 'If she's old +enough to feel trouble that way, she's old enough to +understand and to be helped by hearing about +mine.'"</p> + +<p>It seemed hard for him to go on, for again he +paused, looking off toward the lighthouse in the distance. +Then he said slowly, in a voice that shook +at times:</p> + +<p>"Once—I had a boy—that I set all my hopes on—just +as a man puts all his cargo into one vessel; and +nobody was ever prouder than I was, when that little +craft went sailing along with the best of them. I +used to look at him and think, '<i>Danny'll</i> weather the +seas no matter how rough they are, and he'll bring up +in the harbor I'm hoping he'll reach, with all flags +flying.' And then—something went wrong——"</p> + +<p>The tremulous voice broke. "My little ship went +down—all my precious cargo lost——"</p> + +<p>Another and a longer pause. In it Georgina<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +seemed to hear Cousin Mehitable's husky voice, half +whispering:</p> + +<p>"<i>And the lamp threw a shadow on the yellow +blind, plain as a photograph. The shadow of an old +man sitting with his arms flung out across the table +and his head bowed on them. And he was groaning, +'Oh, my Danny! My Danny! If you could only +have gone that way.'</i>"</p> + +<p>For a moment Georgina felt the cruel hurt of his +grief as if the pain had stabbed her own heart. The +old man went on:</p> + +<p>"If it had only been any other kind of a load, anything +but <i>disgrace</i>, I could have carried it without +flinching. But <i>that</i>, it seemed I just couldn't face. +Only the good Lord knows how I lived through those +first few weeks. Then your grandfather Huntingdon +came to me. He was always a good friend. And he +asked me to row him out here on the water. When +we passed the Figurehead House he pointed up at that +head. It was all white and fair in those days, before +the paint wore off. And he said, 'Dan'l Darcy, <i>as +long as a man keeps Hope at the prow he keeps +afloat</i>. As soon as he drops it he goes to pieces and +down to the bottom, the way that ship did when it +lost its figurehead. You mustn't let go, Dan'l. You +<i>must</i> keep Hope at the prow.</p> + +<p>"'Somewhere in God's universe either in this +world or another your boy is alive and still your son. +You've got to go on hoping that if he's innocent his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +name will be cleared of this disgrace, and if he's +guilty he'll wipe out the old score against him some +way and make good.'</p> + +<p>"And then he gave me a line to live by. A line +he said that had been written by a man who was +stone blind, and hadn't anything to look forward to +all the rest of his life but groping in the dark. He +said he'd not</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<i><span style="margin-left: 15em;">"'Bate a jot</span><br /> +Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer<br /> +Right onward.</i>'<br /> +</div> + +<p>"At first it didn't seem to mean anything to me, but +he made me say it after him as if it were a sort of +promise, and I've been saying it every day of every +year since then. I'd said it to myself first, when I +met people on the street that I knew were thinking +of Danny's disgrace, and I didn't see how I was +going to get up courage to pass 'em. And I said it +when I was lying on my bed at night with my heart +so sore and heavy I couldn't sleep, and after a while +it did begin to put courage into me, so that I could +hope in earnest. And when I did <i>that</i>, little +lass——"</p> + +<p>He leaned over to smile into her eyes, now full +of tears, he had so wrought upon her tender sympathies——</p> + +<p>"When I did that, it put a rainbow around my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +trouble just as that prism did around your empty +holiday tree. It changed the looks of the whole +world for me.</p> + +<p>"<i>That's</i> what I brought you out here to tell you, +Georgina. I want to give you the same thing that +your grandfather Huntingdon gave me—that line to +live by. Because troubles come to everybody. +They'll come to you, too, but I want you to know this, +Baby, they can't hurt you as long as you keep Hope +at the prow, because Hope is a magic glass that +makes rainbows of our tears. Now you won't forget +that, will you? Even after Uncle Darcy is dead and +gone, you'll remember that he brought you out here +on your birthday to give you that good word—'<i>still +bear up and steer right onward</i>,' no matter what +happens. And to tell you that in all the long, hard +years he's lived through, he's proved it was good."</p> + +<p>Georgina, awed and touched of soul, could only +nod her assent. But because Childhood sometimes +has no answer to make to the confidences of Age is +no reason that they are not taken to heart and stowed +away there for the years to build upon. In the unbroken +silence with which they rowed back to shore, +Georgina might have claimed three score years besides +her own ten, so perfect was the feeling of comradeship +between them.</p> + +<p>As they passed the pier back of the antique shop, +a great gray cat rose and stretched itself, then walked +ponderously down to the water's edge. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +"Grandpa." Georgina, laughing a little shakily because +of recent tears, raised her prism to put a rainbow +around the cat's tail, unknowing that but for him +the crystal pendant would now be hanging from an +antique lamp instead of from the ribbon around her +neck.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/i001.png" width="300" height="113" alt="masted ship at sea" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>MOVING PICTURES</div> + + +<div class='cap'>IT often happens that when one is all primed and +cocked for trouble, that trouble flaps its wings +and flies away for a time, leaving nothing to fire at. +So Georgina, going home with her prism and her +"line to live by," ready and eager to prove how +bravely she could meet disappointments, found only +pleasant surprises awaiting her.</div> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett had made a birthday cake in her absence. +It was on the supper table with ten red +candles atop. And there was a note from Barby beside +her plate which had come in the last mail. It +had been posted at some way-station. There was a +check inside for a dollar which she was to spend as +she pleased. A dear little note it was, which made +Georgina's throat ache even while it brought a glow +to her heart. Then Belle, who had not known it was +her birthday in time to make her a present, announced +that she would take her to a moving picture +show after supper, instead.</p> + +<p>Georgina had frequently been taken to afternoon +performances, but never at night. It was an adventure +in itself just to be down in the part of town<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +where the shops were, when they were all lighted, and +when the summer people were surging along the +board-walk and out into the middle of the narrow +street in such crowds that the automobiles and "accommodations" +had to push their way through +slowly, with a great honking of warning horns.</p> + +<p>The Town Hall was lighted for a dance when +they passed it. The windows of the little souvenir +shops seemed twice as attractive as when seen by day, +and early as it was in the evening, people were already +lined up in the drug-store, three deep around +the soda-water fountain.</p> + +<p>Georgina, thankful that Tippy had allowed her to +wear her gold locket for the occasion, walked down +the aisle and took her seat near the stage, feeling as +conspicuous and self-conscious as any debutante entering +a box at Grand Opera.</p> + +<p>It was a hot night, but on a line with the front +seats, there was a double side door opening out onto +a dock. From where Georgina sat she could look out +through the door and see the lights of a hundred +boats twinkling in long wavy lines across the black +water, and now and then a salt breeze with the fishy +tang she loved, stole across the room and touched her +cheek like a cool finger.</p> + +<p>The play was not one which Barbara would have +chosen for Georgina to see, being one that was advertised +as a thriller. It was full of hair-breadth escapes +and tragic scenes. There was a shipwreck in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +it, and passengers were brought ashore in the +breeches buoy, just as she had seen sailors brought +in on practice days over at the Race Point Life-saving +station. And there was a still form stretched +out stark and dripping under a piece of tarpaulin, +and a girl with long fair hair streaming wildly over +her shoulders knelt beside it wringing her hands.</p> + +<p>Georgina stole a quick side-glance at Belle. That +was the way it had been in the story of Emmett Potter's +drowning, as they told it on the day of Cousin +Mehitable's visit. Belle's hands were locked together +in her lap, and her lips were pressed in a thin +line as if she were trying to keep from saying something. +Several times in the semi-darkness of the +house her handkerchief went furtively to her eyes.</p> + +<p>Georgina's heart beat faster. Somehow, with the +piano pounding out that deep tum-tum, like waves +booming up on the rocks, she began to feel strangely +confused, as if <i>she</i> were the heroine on the films; +as if <i>she</i> were kneeling there on the shore in that +tragic moment of parting from her dead lover. She +was sure that she knew exactly how Belle felt then, +how she was feeling now.</p> + +<p>When the lights were switched on again and they +rose to go out, Georgina was so deeply under the +spell of the play that it gave her a little shock of +surprise when Belle began talking quite cheerfully +and in her ordinary manner to her next neighbor. +She even laughed in response to some joking remark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +as they edged their way slowly up the aisle to the +door. It seemed to Georgina that if she had lived +through a scene like the one they had just witnessed, +she could never smile again. On the way out she +glanced up again at Belle several times, wondering.</p> + +<p>Going home the street was even more crowded +than it had been coming. They could barely push +their way along, and were bumped into constantly +by people dodging back to escape the jam when the +crowd had to part to let a vehicle through. But after +a few blocks of such jostling the going was easier. +The drug-store absorbed part of the throng, and +most of the procession turned up Carver Street to +the Gifford House and the cottages beyond on Bradford +Street.</p> + +<p>By the time Georgina and Belle came to the last +half-mile of the plank walk, scarcely a footstep +sounded behind them. After passing the Green +Stairs there was an unobstructed view of the harbor. +A full moon was high overhead, flooding the water +and beach with such a witchery of light that Georgina +moved along as if she were in a dream—in a +silver dream beside a silver sea.</p> + +<p>Belle pointed to a little pavilion in sight of the +breakwater. "Let's go over there and sit down a +few minutes," she said. "It's a waste of good material +to go indoors on a night like this."</p> + +<p>They crossed over, sinking in the sand as they +stepped from the road to the beach, till Georgina<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +had to take off her slippers and shake them before +she could settle down comfortably on the bench in +the pavilion. They sat there a while without speaking, +just as they had sat before the pictures on the +films, for never on any film was ever shown a scene +of such entrancing loveliness as the one spread out +before them. In the broad path made by the moon +hung ghostly sails, rose great masts, twinkled +myriads of lights. It was so still they could hear +the swish of the tide creeping up below, the dip of +near-by oars and the chug of a motor boat, far away +down by the railroad wharf.</p> + +<p>Then Belle began to talk. She looked straight out +across the shining path of the moon and spoke as if +she were by herself. She did not look at Georgina, +sitting there beside her. Perhaps if she had, she +would have realized that her listener was only a +child and would not have said all she did. Or maybe, +something within her felt the influence of the night, +the magical drawing of the moon as the tide feels it, +and she could not hold back the long-repressed +speech that rose to her lips. Maybe it was that the +play they had seen, quickened old memories into painful +life again.</p> + +<p>It was on a night just like this, she told Georgina, +that Emmett first told her that he cared for her—ten +years ago this summer. Ten years! The whole +of Georgina's little lifetime! And now Belle was +twenty-seven. Twenty-seven seemed very old to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +Georgina. She stole another upward glance at her +companion. Belle did not look old, sitting there in +her white dress, like a white moonflower in that silver +radiance, a little lock of soft blonde hair fluttering +across her cheek.</p> + +<p>In a rush of broken sentences with long pauses between +which somehow told almost as much as words, +Belle recalled some of the scenes of that summer, and +Georgina, who up to this night had only glimpsed the +dim outlines of romance, as a child of ten would +glimpse them through old books, suddenly saw it +face to face, and thereafter found it something to +wonder about and dream sweet, vague dreams over.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Belle stood up with a complete change +of manner.</p> + +<p>"My! it must be getting late," she said briskly. +"Aunt Maria will scold if I keep you out any longer."</p> + +<p>Going home, she was like the Belle whom Georgina +had always known—so different from the one +lifting the veil of memories for the little while they +sat in the pavilion.</p> + +<p>Georgina had thought that with no Barby to "button +her eyes shut with a kiss" at the end of her birthday, +the going-to-sleep time would be sad. But she +was so busy recalling the events of the day that she +never thought of the omitted ceremony. For a long +time she lay awake, imagining all sorts of beautiful +scenes in which she was the heroine.</p> + +<p>First, she went back to what Uncle Darcy had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +told her, and imagined herself as rescuing an only +child who was drowning. The whole town stood by +and cheered when she came up with it, dripping, and +the mother took her in her arms and said, "<i>You</i> are +our prism, Georgina Huntingdon! But for your +noble act our lives would be, indeed, desolate. It +is you who have filled them with rainbows."</p> + +<p>Then she was in a ship crossing the ocean, and a +poor sailor hearing her speak of Cape Cod would +come and ask her to tell him of its people, and she +would find he was Danny. She would be the means +of restoring him to his parents.</p> + +<p>And then, she and Richard on some of their treasure-hunting +expeditions which they were still planning +every time they met, would unearth a casket +some dark night by the light of a fitful lantern, and +inside would be a confession written by the man who +had really stolen the money, saying that Dan Darcy +was innocent. And Uncle Darcy and Aunt Elspeth +would be so heavenly glad——The tears came to +Georgina's eyes as she pictured the scene in the little +house in Fishburn Court, it came to her so vividly.</p> + +<p>The clock downstairs struck twelve, but still she +went on with the pleasing pictures moving through +her mind as they had moved across the films earlier +in the evening. The last one was a combination of +what she had seen there and what Belle had told +her.</p> + +<p>She was sitting beside a silver sea across which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +a silver moon was making a wonderful shining path +of silver ripples, and somebody was telling her—what +Emmett had told Belle ten years ago. And she +knew past all doubting that if that shadowy somebody +beside her should die, she would carry the memory +of him to her grave as Belle was doing. It +seemed such a sweet, sad way to live that she thought +it would be more interesting to have her life like that, +than to have it go along like the lives of all the married +people of her acquaintance. And if <i>he</i> had a +father like Emmett's father she would cling to him +as Belle did, and go to see him often and take the +part of a real daughter to him. But she wouldn't +want him to be like Belle's "Father Potter." He was +an old fisherman, too crippled to follow the sea any +longer, so now he was just a mender of nets, sitting +all day knotting twine with dirty tar-blackened fingers.</p> + +<p>The next morning when she went downstairs it +was Belle and not Mrs. Triplett who was stepping +about the kitchen in a big gingham apron, preparing +breakfast. Mrs. Triplett was still in bed. Such a +thing had never happened before within Georgina's +recollection.</p> + +<p>"It's the rheumatism in her back," Belle reported. +"It's so bad she can't lie still with any comfort, and +she can't move without groaning. So she's sort of +'between the de'il and the deep sea.' And touchy is +no name for it. She doesn't like it if you don't and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +she doesn't like it if you do; but you can't wonder +when the pain's so bad. It's pretty near lumbago."</p> + +<p>Georgina, who had finished her dressing by tying +the prism around her neck, was still burning with the +desire which Uncle Darcy's talk had kindled within +her, to be a little comfort to everybody.</p> + +<p>"Let me take her toast and tea up to her," she +begged. With that toast and tea she intended to +pass along the good word Uncle Darcy had given +her—"the line to live by." But Tippy was in no +humor to be adjured by a chit of a child to bear up +and steer right onward. Such advice would have +been coldly received just then even from her minister.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what you're talking about," she +exclaimed testily. "Bear up? Of course I'll bear +up. There's nothing else <i>to</i> do with rheumatism, but +you needn't come around with any talk of putting +rainbows around it or me either."</p> + +<p>She gave her pillow an impatient thump with her +hard knuckles.</p> + +<p>"Deliver me from people who make it their business +in life always to act cheerful no matter <i>what</i>. +The Scripture itself says 'There's a time to laugh +and a time to weep, a time to mourn and a time to +dance.' When the weeping time comes I can't abide +either people or books that go around spreading +cheerful sayings on everybody like salve!"</p> + +<p>Tippy, lying there with her hair screwed into a +tight little button on the top of her head, looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +strangely unlike herself. Georgina descended to the +kitchen, much offended. It hurt her feelings to have +her good offices spurned in such a way. She didn't +care how bad anybody's rheumatism was she muttered. +"It was no excuse for saying such nasty things +to people who were trying to be kind to them."</p> + +<p>Belle suggested presently that the customary piano +practice be omitted that morning for fear it might +disturb Aunt Maria, so when the usual little tasks +were done Georgina would have found time dragging, +had it not been for the night letter which a +messenger boy brought soon after breakfast. Grandfather +Shirley was better than she had expected to +find him, Barby wired. Particulars would follow +soon in a letter. It cheered Georgina up so much +that she took a pencil and tablet of paper up into the +willow tree and wrote a long account to her mother +of the birthday happenings. What with the red-candled +cake and the picture show and the afternoon +in the boat it sounded as if she had had a very happy +day. But mostly she wrote about the prism, and what +Uncle Darcy had told her about the magic glass of +Hope. When it was done she went in to Belle.</p> + +<p>"May I go down to the post-office to mail this and +stop on my way back at the Green Stairs and see if +Richard can come and play with me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>Belle considered. "Better stay down at the Milford's +to do your playing," she answered. "It might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +bother Aunt Maria to have a boy romping around +here."</p> + +<p>So Georgina fared forth, after taking off her prism +and hanging it in a safe place. Only Captain Kidd +frisked down to meet her when she stood under the +studio window and gave the alley yodel which Richard +had taught her. There was no answer. She repeated +it several times, and then Mr. Moreland appeared +at the window, in his artist's smock with a palette +on his thumb and a decidedly impatient expression +on his handsome face. Richard was posing, he +told her, and couldn't leave for half an hour. His +tone was impatient, too, for he had just gotten a +good start after many interruptions.</p> + +<p>Undecided whether to go back home or sit down +on the sand and wait, Georgina stood looking idly +about her. And while she hesitated, Manuel and +Joseph and Rosa came straggling along the beach in +search of adventure.</p> + +<p>It came to Georgina like an inspiration that it +wasn't Barby who had forbidden her to play with +them, it was Tippy. And with a vague feeling that +she was justified in disobeying her because of her +recent crossness, she rounded them up for a chase +over the granite slabs of the breakwater. If they +would be Indians, she proposed, she'd be the Deer-slayer, +like the hero of the Leather-Stocking Tales, +and chase 'em with a gun.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had never heard of those tales, but they were +more than willing to undertake any game which Georgina +might propose. So after a little coaching +in war-whoops, with a battered tin pan for a tom-tom, +three impromptu Indians sped down the beach under +the studio windows, pursued by a swift-footed Deer-slayer +with flying curls. The end of a broken oar +was her musket, which she brandished fiercely as she +echoed their yells.</p> + +<p>Mr. Moreland gave a groan of despair as he +looked at his model when those war-whoops broke +loose. Richard, who had succeeded after many trials +in lapsing into the dreamy attitude which his father +wanted, started up at the first whoop, so alert and +interested that his nostrils quivered. He scented excitement +of some kind and was so eager to be in the +midst of it that the noise of the tom-tom made him +wriggle in his chair.</p> + +<p>He looked at his father appealingly, then made +an effort to settle down into his former attitude. His +body assumed the same listless pose as before, but +his eyes were so eager and shining with interest that +they fairly spoke each time the rattly drumming on +the tin pan sounded a challenge.</p> + +<p>"It's no use, Dicky," said his father at last. "It's +all up with us for this time. You might as well go +on. But I wish that little tom-boy had stayed at +home."</p> + +<p>And Richard went, with a yell and a hand-spring,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +to throw in his lot with Manuel and Joseph and be +chased by the doughty Deer-slayer and her hound. +In the readjustment of parts Rosa was told to answer +to the name of Hector. It was all one to Rosa +whether she was hound or redskin, so long as she +was allowed a part in the thrilling new game. Richard +had the promise of being Deer-slayer next time +they played it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/i005.png" width="200" height="104" alt="handbell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE OLD RIFLE GIVES UP ITS SECRET</div> + + +<div class='cap'>OUT of that game with forbidden playmates, grew +events which changed the lives of several people. +It began by Richard's deciding that a real gun +was necessary for his equipment if he was to play +the part of Leather-Stocking properly. Also, he +argued, it would be a valuable addition to their stock +of fire-arms. The broken old horse-pistols were +good enough to play at pirating with, but something +which would really shoot was needed when they +started out in earnest on a sure-enough adventure.</div> + +<p>Georgina suggested that he go to Fishburn Court +and borrow a rifle that she had seen up in Uncle +Darcy's attic. She would go with him and do the +asking, she added, but Belle had promised to take +her with her the next time she went to see the net-mender, +and the next time would be the following +afternoon, if Tippy was well enough to be up and +around. Georgina couldn't miss the chance to see +inside the cottage that had been the home of a hero +and Belle's drowned lover. She wanted to see the +newspaper which Mr. Potter showed everybody who +went to the house. It had an account of the wreck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +and the rescue in it, with Emmett's picture on the +front page, and black headlines under it that said, +"Died like a hero."</p> + +<p>Tippy was well enough to be up next day, so +Richard went alone to Fishburn Court, and Georgina +trudged along the sandy road with Belle to the +weather-beaten cottage on the edge of the cranberry +bog. Belle told her more about the old man as they +walked along.</p> + +<p>"Seems as if he just lives on that memory. He +can't get out in the boats any more, being so crippled +up, and he can't see to read much, so there's lots of +time for him to sit and think on the past. If it +wasn't for the nets he'd about lose his mind. I +wouldn't say it out, and you needn't repeat it, but +sometimes I think it's already touched a mite. You +see the two of them lived there together so long +alone, that Emmett was all in all to his father. I +suppose that's why Emmett is all he can talk about +now."</p> + +<p>When they reached the cottage Mr. Potter was +sitting out in front as usual, busy with his work. +Georgina was glad that he did not offer to shake +hands. His were so dirty and black with tar she felt +she could not bear to touch them. He was a swarthy +old man with skin like wrinkled leather, and a bushy, +grizzled beard which grew up nearly to his eyes. +Again Georgina wondered, looking at Belle in her +crisp, white dress and white shoes. How could she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +care for this unkempt old creature enough to call him +Father?</p> + +<p>As she followed Belle around inside the dreary +three-room cottage she wanted to ask if this would +have been her home if Emmett had not been +drowned, but she felt a delicacy about asking such +a question. She couldn't imagine Belle in such a +setting, but after she had followed her around a +while longer she realized that the house wouldn't +stay dreary with such a mistress. In almost no time +the place was put to rights, and there was a pan of +cookies ready to slip into the oven.</p> + +<p>When the smell of their browning stole out to +the front door the old man left his bench and came +in to get a handful of the hot cakes. Then, just as +Belle said he would, he told Georgina all that had +happened the night of the wreck.</p> + +<p>"That's the very chair he was sittin' in, when Luke +Jones come in with the word that men were needed. +He started right off with Luke soon as he could get +into his oil-skins, for 'twas stormin' to beat the band. +But he didn't go fur. Almost no time it seemed like, +he was comin' into the house agin, and he went into +that bedroom there, and shet the door behind him. +That of itself ought to 'uv made me know something +out of the usual was beginnin' to happen, for he never +done such a thing before. A few minutes later he +came out with an old rifle that him and Dan Darcy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +used to carry around in the dunes for target shootin' +and he set it right down in that corner by the chimney +jamb.</p> + +<p>"'First time anybody passes this way goin' down +to Fishburn Court,' he says, 'I wish you'd send this +along to Uncle Dan'l. It's his by rights, and he'd +ought a had it long ago.'</p> + +<p>"An' them was his last words to me, except as he +pulled the door to after him he called 'Good-bye Pop, +if I don't see you agin.'</p> + +<p>"I don't know when he'd done such a thing before +as to say good-bye when he went out, and I've often +wondered over it sence, could he 'a had any warnin' +that something was goin' to happen to him?"</p> + +<p>Georgina gazed at the picture in the newspaper +long and curiously. It had been copied from a faded +tin-type, but even making allowances for that Emmett +didn't look as she imagined a hero should, nor +did it seem possible it could be the man Belle had +talked about. She wished she hadn't seen it. It +dimmed the glamor of romance which seemed to surround +him like a halo. Hearing about him in the +magical moonlight she had pictured him as looking +as Sir Galahad. But if <i>this</i> was what he really looked +like——Again she glanced wonderingly at Belle. +How could she care so hard for ten long years for +just an ordinary man like that?</p> + +<p>When it was time to go home Belle suggested that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +they walk around by Fishburn Court. It would be +out of their way, but she had heard that Aunt Elspeth +wasn't as well as usual.</p> + +<p>"Emmett always called her Aunt," she explained +to Georgina as they walked along, "so I got into the +way of doing it, too. He was so fond of Dan's +mother. She was so good to him after his own went +that I feel I want to be nice to her whenever I can, +for his sake."</p> + +<p>"You know," she continued, "Aunt Elspeth never +would give up but that Dan was innocent, and since +her memory's been failing her this last year, she talks +all the time about his coming home; just lies there in +bed half her time and babbles about him. It almost +kills Uncle Dan'l to hear her, because, of course, he +knows the truth of the matter, that Dan <i>was</i> guilty. +He as good as confessed it before he ran away, and +the running away itself told the story."</p> + +<p>When they reached Fishburn Court they could see +two people sitting in front of the cottage. Uncle +Darcy was in an armchair on the grass with one of +the cats in his lap, and Richard sat on one seat of the +red, wooden swing with Captain Kidd on the opposite +one. Richard had a rifle across his knees, the +one Georgina had suggested borrowing. He passed +his hand caressingly along its stock now and then, +and at intervals raised it to sight along the barrel. +It was so heavy he could not keep it from wobbling +when he raised it to take aim in various directions.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the click of the gate-latch the old man tumbled +Yellownose out of his lap and rose stiffly to welcome +his guests.</p> + +<p>"Come right in," he said cordially. "Mother'll be +glad to see you, Belle. She's been sort of low in her +mind lately, and needs cheering up."</p> + +<p>He led the way into a low-ceilinged, inner bedroom +with the shades all pulled down. It was so dark, +compared to the glaring road they had been following, +that Georgina blinked at the dim interior. She +could scarcely make out the figure on the high-posted +bed, and drew back, whispering to Belle that she'd +stay outside until they were ready to go home. Leaving +them on the threshold, she went back to the shady +door-yard to a seat in the swing beside Captain +Kidd.</p> + +<p>"It's Uncle Darcy's son's rifle," explained Richard. +"He's been telling me about him. Feel how +smooth the stock is."</p> + +<p>Georgina reached over and passed her hand lightly +along the polished wood.</p> + +<p>"He and a friend of his called Emmett Potter +used to carry it on the dunes sometimes to shoot at +a mark with. It wasn't good for much else, it's so +old. Dan got it in a trade once; traded a whole litter +of collie pups for it. Uncle Darcy says he'd forgotten +there was such a gun till somebody brought it +to him after Emmett was drowned."</p> + +<p>"Oh," interrupted Georgina, her eyes wide with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +interest. "Emmett's father has just been telling me +about this very rifle. But I didn't dream it was the +one I'd seen up in the attic here. He showed me the +corner where Emmett stood it when he left for the +wreck, and told what was to be done with it. 'Them +were his last words,'" she added, quoting Mr. Potter.</p> + +<p>She reached out her hand for the clumsy old firearm +and almost dropped it, finding it so much heavier +than she expected. She wanted to touch with her +own fingers the weapon that had such an interesting +history, and about which a hero had spoken his last +words.</p> + +<p>"The hammer's broken," continued Richard. +"Whoever brought it home let it fall. It's all rusty, +too, because it was up in the attic so many years and +the roof leaked on it. But Uncle Darcy said lots of +museums would be glad to have it because there +aren't many of these old flint-locks left now. He's +going to leave it to the Pilgrim museum up by the +monument when he's dead and gone, but he wants to +keep it as long as he lives because Danny set such +store by it."</p> + +<p>"There's some numbers or letters or something +on it," announced Georgina, peering at a small brass +plate on the stock. "I can't make them out. I tell +you what let's do," she exclaimed in a burst of enthusiasm. +"Let's polish it up so's we can read them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +Tippy uses vinegar and wood ashes for brass. I'll +run get some."</p> + +<p>Georgina was enough at home here to find what +she wanted without asking, and as full of resources +as Robinson Crusoe. She was back in a very few +minutes with a shovel full of ashes from the kitchen +stove, and an old can lid full of vinegar, drawn from +a jug in the corner cupboard. With a scrap of a +rag dipped first in vinegar, then in ashes, she began +scrubbing the brass plate diligently. It had corroded +until there was an edge of green entirely around it.</p> + +<p>"I love to take an old thing like this and scrub +it till it shines like gold," she said, scouring away +with such evident enjoyment of the job that Richard +insisted on having a turn. She surrendered the rag +grudgingly, but continued to direct operations.</p> + +<p>"Now dip it in the ashes again. No, not that way, +double the rag up and use more vinegar. Rub around +that other corner a while. Here, let me show you."</p> + +<p>She took the rifle away from him again and proceeded +to illustrate her advice. Suddenly she looked +up, startled.</p> + +<p>"I believe we've rubbed it loose. It moved a little +to one side. See?"</p> + +<p>He grabbed it back and examined it closely. "I +bet it's meant to move," he said finally. "It looks +like a lid, see! It slides sideways."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I remember now," she cried, much excited.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +"That's the way Leather-Stocking's rifle was made. +There was a hole in the stock with a brass plate over +it, and he kept little pieces of oiled deer-skin inside +of it to wrap bullets in before he loaded 'em in. I +remember just as plain, the place in the story where +he stopped to open it and take out a piece of oiled +deer-skin when he started to load."</p> + +<p>As she explained she snatched the rifle back into +her own hands once more, and pried at the brass +plate until she broke the edge of her thumb nail. +Then Richard took it, and with the aid of a rusty +button-hook which he happened to have in his pocket, +having found it on the street that morning, he pushed +the plate entirely back.</p> + +<p>"There's something white inside!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Instantly two heads bent over with his in an attempt +to see, for Captain Kidd's shaggy hair was side +by side with Georgina's curls, his curiosity as great +as hers.</p> + +<p>"Whatever's in there has been there an awful long +time," said Richard as he poked at the contents with +his button-hook, "for Uncle Darcy said the rifle's +never been used since it was brought back to him."</p> + +<p>"And it's ten years come Michaelmas since Emmett +was drowned," said Georgina, again quoting the +old net-mender.</p> + +<p>The piece of paper which they finally succeeded in +drawing out had been folded many times and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +crumpled into a flat wad. Evidently the message on +it had been scrawled hastily in pencil by someone little +used to letter writing. It was written in an odd +hand, and the united efforts of the two little readers +could decipher only parts of it.</p> + +<p>"I can read any kind of plain writing like they do +in school," said Richard, "but not this sharp-cornered +kind where the m's and u's are alike, and all the tails +are pointed."</p> + +<p>Slowly they puzzled out parts of it, halting long +over some of the undecipherable words, but a few +words here and there were all they could recognize. +There were long stretches that had no meaning whatever +for them. This much, however, they managed +to spell out:</p> + +<p>"Dan never took the money.... I did it.... +He went away because he knew I did it and wouldn't +tell.... Sorry.... Can't stand it any longer.... +Put an end to it all...."</p> + +<p>It was signed "Emmett Potter."</p> + +<p>The two children looked at each other with puzzled +eyes until into Georgina's came a sudden and +startled understanding. Snatching up the paper she +almost fell out of the swing and ran towards the +house screaming:</p> + +<p>"Uncle Darcy! Uncle Darcy! Look what we've +found."</p> + +<p>She tripped over a piece of loose carpet spread<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +just inside the front door as a rug and fell full length, +but too excited to know that she had skinned her +elbow she scrambled up, still calling:</p> + +<p>"Uncle Darcy, <i>Dan never took the money. It was +Emmett Potter. He said so himself!</i>"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 209px;"> +<img src="images/i010.png" width="209" height="400" alt="two kids sitting on dock posts" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A HARD PROMISE</div> + + +<div class='cap'>A DOZEN times in Georgina's day-dreaming she +had imagined this scene. She had run to Uncle +Darcy with the proof of Dan's innocence, heard his +glad cry, seen his face fairly transfigured as he read +the confession aloud. Now it was actually happening +before her very eyes, but where was the scene +of heavenly gladness that should have followed?</div> + +<p>Belle, startled even more than he by Georgina's +outcry, and quicker to act, read the message over his +shoulder, recognized the handwriting and grasped +the full significance of the situation before he reached +the name at the end. For ten years three little notes +in that same peculiar hand had lain in her box of +keepsakes. There was no mistaking that signature. +She had read it and cried over it so many times that +now as it suddenly confronted her with its familiar +twists and angles it was as startling as if Emmett's +voice had called to her.</p> + +<p>As Uncle Darcy looked up from the second reading, +with a faltering exclamation of thanksgiving, she +snatched the paper from his shaking hands and tore +it in two. Then crumpling the pieces and flinging +them from her, she seized him by the wrists.</p> + +<p>"No, you're <i>not</i> going to tell the whole world," +she cried wildly, answering the announcement he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +made with the tears raining down his cheeks. +"You're not going to tell anybody! Think of me! +Think of Father Potter!"</p> + +<p>She almost screamed her demand. He could +hardly believe it was Belle, this frenzied girl, who, +heretofore, had seemed the gentlest of souls. He +looked at her in a dazed way, so overwhelmed by +the discovery that had just been made, that he failed +to comprehend the reason for her white face and +agonized eyes, till she threw up her arms crying:</p> + +<p>"<i>Emmett</i> a thief! God in heaven! It'll kill me!"</p> + +<p>It was the sight of Georgina's shocked face with +Richard's at the door, that made things clear to the +old man. He waved them away, with hands which +shook as if he had the palsy.</p> + +<p>"Go on out, children, for a little while," he said +gently, and closed the door in their faces.</p> + +<p>Slowly they retreated to the swing, Georgina clasping +the skinned elbow which had begun to smart. +She climbed into one seat of the swing and Richard +and Captain Kidd took the other. As they swung +back and forth she demanded in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"Why is it that grown people always shut children +out of their secrets? Seems as if we have a right to +know what's the matter when <i>we</i> found the paper."</p> + +<p>Richard made no answer, for just then the sound +of Belle's crying came out to them. The windows of +the cottage were all open and the grass plot between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +the windows and the swing being a narrow one the +closed door was of little avail. It was very still +there in the shady dooryard, so still that they could +hear old Yellownose purr, asleep on the cushion in +the wooden arm-chair beside the swing. The broken +sentences between the sobs were plainly audible. It +seemed so terrible to hear a grown person cry, that +Georgina felt as she did that morning long ago, when +old Jeremy's teeth flew into the fire. Her confidence +was shaken in the world. She felt there could be +no abiding happiness in anything.</p> + +<p>"She's begging him not to tell," whispered Richard.</p> + +<p>"But I owe it to Danny," they heard Uncle Darcy +say. And then, "Why should I spare Emmett's +father? Emmett never spared me, he never spared +Danny."</p> + +<p>An indistinct murmur as if Belle's answer was +muffled in her handkerchief, then Uncle Darcy's +voice again:</p> + +<p>"It isn't fair that the town should go on counting +him a hero and brand my boy as a coward, when it's +Emmett who was the coward as well as the thief."</p> + +<p>Again Belle's voice in a quick cry of pain, as sharp +as if she had been struck. Then the sound of another +door shutting, and when the voices began again +it was evident they had withdrawn into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"They don't want Aunt Elspeth to hear," said +Georgina.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's it all about?" asked Richard, much mystified.</p> + +<p>Georgina told him all that she knew herself, gathered +from the scraps she had heard the day of Cousin +Mehitable's visit, and from various sources since; +told him in a half whisper stopping now and then +when some fragment of a sentence floated out to them +from the kitchen; for occasional words still continued +to reach them through the windows in the rear, +when the voices rose at intervals to a higher pitch.</p> + +<p>What passed behind those closed doors the children +never knew. They felt rather than understood +what was happening. Belle's pleading was beginning +to be effectual, and the old man was rising to +the same heights of self-sacrifice which Dan had +reached, when he slipped away from home with the +taint of his friend's disgrace upon him in order to +save that friend.</p> + +<p>That some soul tragedy had been enacted in that +little room the children felt vaguely when Belle came +out after a while. Her eyes were red and swollen +and her face drawn and pinched looking. She did +not glance in their direction, but stood with her face +averted and hand on the gate-latch while Uncle +Darcy stopped beside the swing.</p> + +<p>"Children," he said solemnly, "I want you to +promise me never to speak to anyone about finding +that note in the old rifle till I give you permission.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +Will you do this for me, just because I ask it, even if +I can't tell you why?"</p> + +<p>"Mustn't I even tell Barby?" asked Georgina, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Belle, then +answered:</p> + +<p>"No, not even your mother, till I tell you that you +can. Now you see what a very important secret it is. +Can <i>you</i> keep it, son? Will you promise me too?"</p> + +<p>He turned to Richard with the question. With a +finger under the boy's chin he tipped up his face and +looked into it searchingly. The serious, brown eyes +looked back into his, honest and unflinching.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I promise," he answered. "Honor bright +I'll not tell."</p> + +<p>The old man turned to the waiting figure at the +gate.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Belle. You needn't worry about it +any more. You can trust us."</p> + +<p>She made no answer, but looking as if she had +aged years in the last half hour, she passed through +the gate and into the sandy court, moving slowly +across it towards the street beyond.</p> + +<p>With a long-drawn sigh the old man sank down +on the door-step and buried his face in his hands. +They were still shaking as if he had the palsy. For +some time the children sat in embarrassed silence, +thinking every moment that he would look up and say +something. They wanted to go, but waited for him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +to make some movement. He seemed to have forgotten +they were there. Finally a clock inside the +cottage began striking five. It broke the spell which +bound them.</p> + +<p>"Let's go," whispered Richard.</p> + +<p>"All right," was the answer, also whispered. +"Wait till I take the shovel and can lid back to the +kitchen."</p> + +<p>"I'll take 'em," he offered. "I want to get a drink, +anyhow."</p> + +<p>Stealthily, as if playing Indian, they stepped out +of the swing and tiptoed through the grass around +the corner of the house. Even the dog went noiselessly, +instead of frisking and barking as he usually +did when starting anywhere. Their return was +equally stealthy. As they slipped through the gate +Georgina looked back at the old man. He was still +sitting on the step, his face in his hands, as if he were +bowed down by some weight too heavy for his shoulders +to bear.</p> + +<p>The weary hopelessness of his attitude made her +want to run back and throw her arms around his +neck, but she did not dare. Trouble as great as that +seemed to raise a wall around itself. It could not be +comforted by a caress. The only thing to do was to +slip past and not look.</p> + +<p>Richard shared the same awe, for he went away +leaving the rifle lying in the grass. Instinctively he +felt that it ought not to be played with now. It was +the rifle which had changed everything.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>LOST AND FOUND AT THE LINIMENT WAGON</div> + + +<div class='cap'>WITH Mrs. Triplett back in bed again on account +of the rheumatism which crippled her, +and Belle going about white of face and sick of soul, +home held little cheer for Georgina. But with Mrs. +Triplett averse to company of any kind, and Belle +anxious to be alone with her misery, there was nothing +to hinder Georgina from seeking cheer elsewhere +and she sought it early and late.</div> + +<p>She had spent her birthday dollar in imagination +many times before she took her check to the bank to +have it cashed. With Richard to lend her courage, +and Manuel, Joseph and Rosa trailing after by special +invitation, she walked in and asked for Mr. +Gates. That is the way Barby always did, and as far +as Georgina knew he was the only one to apply to +for money.</p> + +<p>The paying teller hesitated a moment about summoning +the president of the bank from his private +office at the behest of so small a child, so small that +even on tiptoe her eyes could barely peer into the +window of his cage. But they were entreating eyes, +so big and brown and sure of their appeal that he decided +to do their bidding.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> + +<p>Just as he turned to knock at the door behind him +it opened, and Mr. Gates came out with the man +with whom he had been closeted in private conference. +It was Richard's Cousin James. The children +did not see him, however, for he stopped at one of +the high desks inside to look at some papers which +one of the clerks spread out before him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's my little friend, Georgina," said Mr. +Gates, smiling in response to the beaming smile she +gave him. "Well, what can I do for you, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"Cash my check, please," she said, pushing the +slip of paper towards him with as grand an air as if +it had been for a million dollars instead of one, "and +all in nickels, please."</p> + +<p>He glanced at the name she had written painstakingly +across the back.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Huntingdon," he exclaimed gravely, +although there was a twinkle in his eyes, "if all lady +customers were as businesslike in endorsing their +checks and in knowing what they want, we bankers +would be spared a lot of trouble."</p> + +<p>It was the first time that Georgina had ever been +called Miss Huntingdon, and knowing he said it to +tease her, it embarrassed her to the point of making +her stammer, when he asked her most unexpectedly +while picking out twenty shining new nickels to stuff +into the little red purse:</p> + +<p>"All of these going to buy tracts for the missionaries +to take to the little heathen?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, they're all going to—to——"</p> + +<p>She didn't like to say for soda water and chewing +gum and the movies, and hesitated till a substitute +word occurred to her.</p> + +<p>"They're all going to go for buying good times. +It's for a sort of a club we made up this morning, +Richard and me."</p> + +<p>"May I ask the name of the club?"</p> + +<p>Georgina glanced around. No other customer +happened to be in the bank at the moment and Richard +had wandered out to the street to wait for her. +So tiptoeing a little higher she said in a low tone as +if imparting a secret:</p> + +<p>"It's the <i>Rainbow</i> Club. We pretend that everytime +we make anybody happy we've made a little +rainbow in the world."</p> + +<p>"Well, bless your heart," was the appreciative +answer. "You've already made one in here. You +do that every time you come around."</p> + +<p>Then he looked thoughtfully at her over his spectacles.</p> + +<p>"Would you take an old fellow like me into your +club?"</p> + +<p>Georgina considered a moment, first stealing a +glance at him to see if he were in earnest or still trying +to tease. He seemed quite serious so she answered:</p> + +<p>"If you really <i>want</i> to belong. Anybody with a +bank full of money ought to be able to make happy +times for the whole town."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Any dues to pay? What are the rules and what +are the duties of a member?"</p> + +<p>Again Georgina was embarrassed. He seemed to +expect so much more than she had to offer. She +swung the red purse around nervously as she answered:</p> + +<p>"I guess you won't think it's much of a club. +There's nothing to it but just its name, and all we do +is just to go around making what it says."</p> + +<p>"Count me as Member number Three," said Mr. +Gates gravely. "I'm proud to join you. Shake hands +on it. I'll try to be a credit to the organization, and +I hope you'll drop around once in a while and let +me know how it's getting along."</p> + +<p>The beaming smile with which Georgina shook +hands came back to him all morning at intervals.</p> + +<p>Cousin James Milford, who had been an interested +listener, followed her out of the bank presently and +as he drove his machine slowly past the drug-store +he saw the five children draining their glasses at the +soda-water fountain. He stopped, thinking to invite +Richard and Georgina to go to Truro with him. +It never would have occurred to him to give the three +little Portuguese children a ride also had he not +overheard that conversation in the bank.</p> + +<p>"Well, why not?" he asked himself, smiling inwardly. +"It might as well be rainbows for the crowd +while I'm about it."</p> + +<p>So for the first time in their lives Manuel and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +Joseph and Rosa rode in one of the "honk wagons" +which heretofore they had known only as something +to be dodged when one walked abroad. Judging +by the blissful grins which took permanent lodging +on their dirty faces, Cousin James was eligible to +the highest position the new club could bestow, if +ever he should apply for membership.</p> + +<p>If Mrs. Triplett had been downstairs that evening, +none of the birthday nickels would have found +their way through the ticket window of the moving +picture show. She supposed that Georgina was +reading as usual beside the evening lamp, or was +out on the front porch talking to Belle. But Belle, +not caring to talk to anyone, had given instant consent +when Georgina, who wanted to go to the show, +having seen wonderful posters advertising it, suggested +that Mrs. Fayal would take her in charge. +She did not add that she had already seen Mrs. Fayal +and promised to provide tickets for her and the +children in case she could get permission from home. +Belle did not seem interested in hearing such things, +so Georgina hurried off lest something might happen +to interfere before she was beyond the reach of +summoning voices.</p> + +<p>On the return from Truro she had asked to be +put out at the Fayal cottage, having it in mind to +make some such arrangement. Manuel had seen one +show, but Joseph and Rosa had never so much as +had their heads inside of one. She found Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +Fayal glooming over a wash-tub, not because she +objected to washing for the summer people. She +was used to that, having done it six days out of +seven every summer since she had married Joe +Fayal. What she was glooming over was that Joe +was home from a week's fishing trip with his share +of the money for the biggest catch of the season, and +not a dime of it had she seen. It had all gone into +the pocket of an itinerant vendor, and Joe was +lying in a sodden stupor out under the grape arbor +at the side of the cottage.</p> + +<p>Georgina started to back away when she found the +state of affairs. She did not suppose Mrs. Fayal +would have a mind for merry-making under the circumstances. +But, indeed, Mrs. Fayal did.</p> + +<p>"All the more reason that I should go off and forget +my troubles and have a good time for a while," +she said decidedly. Georgina recognized the spirit +if not the words of her own "line to live by." Mrs. +Fayal could bear up and steer onward with a joyful +heart any time she had the price of admission to a +movie in her pocket. So feeling that as a member +of the new club she could not have a better opportunity +to make good its name, Georgina promised +the tickets for the family even if she could not go +herself. She would send them by Richard if not +allowed to take them in person.</p> + +<p>It was still light when Georgina fared forth at the +end of the long summer day. Richard joined her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +at the foot of the Green Stairs with the price of his +own ticket in his pocket, and Captain Kidd tagging +at his heels.</p> + +<p>"They won't let the dog into the show," Georgina +reminded him.</p> + +<p>"That's so, and he might get into a fight or run +over if I left him outside," Richard answered. +"B'leeve I'll shut him up in the garage."</p> + +<p>This he did, fastening the door securely, and returning +in time to see the rest of the party turning +the corner, and coming towards the Green Stairs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fayal, after her long day over the wash-tub, +was resplendent in lavender shirt-waist, blue +serge skirt and white tennis shoes, with long gold +ear-rings dangling half-way to her shoulders. Manuel +and Joseph were barefooted as usual, and in overalls +as usual, but their lack of gala attire was made +up for by Rosa's. No wax doll was ever more +daintily and lacily dressed. Georgina looked at her +in surprise, wishing Tippy could see her now. Rosa +in her white dress and slippers and with her face +clean, was a little beauty.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fayal made a delightful chaperon. She +was just as ready as anyone in her train to stop in +front of shop windows, to straggle slowly down the +middle of the street, or to thrust her hand into Richard's +bag of peanuts whenever he passed it around. +Cracking shells and munching the nuts, they strolled +along with a sense of freedom which thrilled Georgina<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +to the core. She had never felt it before. She +had just bought five tickets and Richard his one, and +they were about to pass in although Mrs. Fayal said +it was early yet, when a deep voice roaring through +the crowd attracted their attention. It was as sonorous +as a megaphone.</p> + +<p>"Walk up, ladies and gentlemen. See the wild-cat, +<i>Texas Tim</i>, brought from the banks of the +Brazos."</p> + +<p>"Let's go," said Richard and Georgina in the +same breath. Mrs. Fayal, out for a good time and +to see all that was to be seen, bobbed her long ear-rings +in gracious assent, and headed the procession, +in order that her ample form might make an entering +wedge for the others, as she elbowed her way +through the crowd gathered at the street end of +Railroad wharf.</p> + +<p>It clustered thickest around a wagon in which +stood a broad-shouldered man, mounted on a chair. +He wore a cow-boy hat. A flaming torch set up beside +the wagon lighted a cage in one end of it, in +which crouched a wild-cat bewildered by the light +and the bedlam of noisy, pushing human beings. The +children could not see the animal at first, but pushed +nearer the wagon to hear what the man was saying. +He held up a bottle and shook it over the heads of +the people.</p> + +<p>"Here's your marvelous rheumatism remedy," he +cried, "made from the fat of wild-cats. Warranted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +to cure every kind of ache, sprain and misery known +to man. Only fifty cents, ladies and gentlemen, sure +cure or your money back. Anybody here with an +ache or a pain?"</p> + +<p>The children pushed closer. Richard, feeling the +effect of the gun-powder he had eaten, turned to +Georgina.</p> + +<p>"I dare you to climb up and touch the end of the +wild-cat's tail."</p> + +<p>Georgina stood on tiptoe, then dodged under +someone's elbow for a nearer view. The end of +the tail protruded from between the bars of the cage, +in easy reach if one were on the wagon, but those furtive +eyes keeping watch above it were savage in +their gleaming. Then she, too, remembered the gun-powder.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it if you will."</p> + +<p>Before Richard could put the gun-powder to the +test the man reached down for a guitar leaning +against his chair, and with a twanging of chords +which made the shifting people on the outskirts stand +still to see what would happen next, he began to sing +a song that had been popular in his youth. Or, +rather, it was a parody of the song. Georgina recognized +it as one that she had heard Uncle Darcy +sing, and even Tippy hummed it sometimes when +she was sewing. It was, "When you and I were +young, Maggie."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>They say we are aged and gray, Maggie,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">As spray by the white breakers flung,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But the liniment keeps us as spry, Maggie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">As when you and I were young."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>Several people laughed and passed on when the +song was done, but the greater part of the crowd +stayed, hoping to hear another, for the voice was a +powerful one and fairly sweet.</p> + +<p>"Anybody here with any aches or pains?" he called +again. "If so, step this way, please, and let me make +a simple demonstration of how quickly this magic +oil will cure you."</p> + +<p>There was a commotion near the wagon, and a +man pushed his way through and climbed up on the +wheel. He offered a stiff wrist for treatment. The +vendor tipped up the bottle and poured out some +pungent volatile oil from the bottle, the odor of +which was far-reaching. He rubbed the wrist briskly +for a moment, then gave it a slap saying, "Now see +what you can do with it, my friend."</p> + +<p>The patient scowled at it, twisting his arm in every +possible direction as if skeptical of any help from +such a source, but gradually letting a look of pleased +surprise spread across his face. The crowd watched +in amusement, and nearly everybody laughed when +the patient finally announced in a loud voice that he +was cured, that it was nothing short of a miracle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +and that he'd buy half a dozen bottles of that witch +stuff to take home to his friends.</p> + +<p>The vendor began his speech-making again, calling +attention to the cure they had just witnessed, and +urging others to follow. As the subject of the cure +stepped down from the wheel Richard sprang up +in his place. Georgina, pressing closer, saw him +lean over the side of the wagon and boldly take hold +of the end of the beast's tail.</p> + +<p>"There. I did it," he announced. "Now it's your +turn."</p> + +<p>Georgina gave one glance at the wild-cat's eyes +and drew back. They seemed to glare directly at +her. She wondered how strong the bars were, and +if they would hold the beast in case it rose up in a +rage and sprang at her. But Richard was waiting, +and she clambered up on the hub of the wheel. Luckily +its owner was turned towards the other side at +that moment or she might have been ordered down.</p> + +<p>"There! I did it, too," she announced an instant +later. "Now you can't crow over me."</p> + +<p>She was about to step down when she saw in the +other end of the wagon, something she had not +been able to see from her place on the ground under +the elbows of the crowd. In a low rocking chair sat +an elderly woman, oddly out of place in this traveling +medicine show as far as appearance was concerned. +She had a calm, motherly face, gray hair +combed smoothly down over her ears, a plain old-fashioned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +gray dress and an air of being perfectly at +home. It was the serene, unconscious manner one +would have in sitting on the door-step at home. She +did not seem to belong in the midst of this seething +curious mass, or to realize that she was a part of the +show. She smiled now at Georgina in such a friendly +way that Georgina smiled back and continued to +stand on the wheel. She hoped that this nice old +lady would say something about the virtues of the +medicine, for it cured two more people, even while +she looked, and if she could be sure it did all that +was claimed for it she would spend all the rest of +her birthday money in buying a bottle for Tippy.</p> + +<p>The placid old lady said nothing, but her reassuring +presence finally made Georgina decide to buy +the bottle, and she emptied the red purse of everything +except the tickets. Then the man embarrassed +her until her cheeks flamed.</p> + +<p>"That's right, little girl. Carry it to the dear +sufferer at home who will bless you for your kindness. +Anybody else here who will imitate this child's +generous act? If you haven't any pain yourself, +show your gratitude by thinking of someone less +fortunate than you."</p> + +<p>Georgina felt that her blushes were burning her +up at thus being made the centre of public notice. +She almost fell off the wheel in her haste to get down, +and in doing so stumbled over a dog which suddenly +emerged from under the wagon at that instant.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, it's Captain Kidd!" she exclaimed in astonishment. +"How ever did he get here?"</p> + +<p>"Must have scratched under the door and trailed +us," answered Richard. "Go on home, sir!" he commanded, +sternly, stamping his foot. "You know they +won't let you into the show with us, and you'll get +into trouble if you stay downtown alone. Go on +home I say."</p> + +<p>With drooping tail and a look so reproachful that +it was fairly human, Captain Kidd slunk away, starting +mournfully homeward. He sneaked back in a +few minutes, however, and trailed his party as far +as the door of the theatre. Somebody kicked at him +and he fled down the street again, retracing the trail +that had led him to the wagon.</p> + +<p>A long time after when the performance was +nearly over he went swinging up the beach with +something in his mouth which he had picked up from +near the end of the wagon. It was a tobacco pouch +of soft gray leather that had never been used for +tobacco. There was something hard and round inside +which felt like a bone. At the top of the Green +Stairs he lay down and mouthed it a while, tugging +at it with his sharp teeth; but after he had mumbled +and gnawed it for some time without bringing the +bone any nearer the surface, he grew tired of his +newfound plaything. Dropping it in the grass, +he betook himself to the door-mat on the front +porch, to await his master's return.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>BURIED TREASURE</div> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN Georgina tiptoed up the walk to the +front porch where Belle sat waiting for her +in the moonlight, Tippy called down that she wasn't +asleep, and they needn't stay out there on her account, +whispering. It did not seem an auspicious +time to present the bottle of liniment, but to Georgina's +surprise Tippy seemed glad to try the new +remedy. The long-continued pain which refused to +yield to treatment made her willing to try anything +which promised relief.</div> + +<p>It was vile-smelling stuff, so pungent that whenever +the cork was taken out of the bottle the whole +house knew it, but it burned with soothing fire and +Tippy rose up and called it blessed before the next +day was over. Before that happened, however, +Georgina took advantage of Belle's easy rule to +leave home as soon as her little morning tasks were +done. Strolling down the board-walk with many +stops she came at last to the foot of the Green +Stairs. Richard sat on the top step, tugging at a +knotted string.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come on up," he called. "See what I've taken +away from Captain Kidd. He was just starting to +bury it. Looks like a tobacco pouch, but I haven't +got it untied yet. He made the string all wet, gnawing +on it."</p> + +<p>Georgina climbed to the top of the steps and sat +down beside him, watching in deep and silent interest. +When the string finally gave way she offered her lap +to receive the contents of the pouch. Two five-dollar +gold pieces rolled out first, then a handful of small +change, a black ring evidently whittled out of a rubber +button and lastly a watch-fob ornament. It was +a little compass, set in something which looked like +a nut.</p> + +<p>"I believe that's a buckeye," said Richard. He +examined it carefully on all sides, then called excitedly:</p> + +<p>"Aw, look here! See those letters scratched on +the side—'D. D.'? That stands for <i>my</i> name, Dare-devil +Dick. I'm going to keep it."</p> + +<p>"That's the cunningest thing I ever saw," declared +Georgina in a tone both admiring and envious, which +plainly showed that she wished the initials were such +as could be claimed by a Gory George. Then she +picked up the pouch and thrust in her hand. Something +rustled. It was a letter. Evidently it had +been forwarded many times, for the envelope was +entirely criss-crossed with names that had been written +and blotted out that new ones might be added.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +All they could make out was "Mrs. Henry"—"Texas" +and "Mass."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to have that stamp for my album," said +Richard. "It's foreign. Seems to me I've got one +that looks something like it, but I'm not sure. Maybe +the letter will tell who the pouch belongs to."</p> + +<p>"But we can't read other people's letters," objected +Georgina.</p> + +<p>"Well, who wants to? It won't be reading it just +to look at the head and tail, will it?"</p> + +<p>"No," admitted Georgina, hesitatingly. "Though +it does seem like peeking."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you lost something wouldn't you rather +whoever found it should peek and find out it was +yours, than to have it stay lost forever?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I s'pose so."</p> + +<p>"Let's look, then."</p> + +<p>Two heads bent over the sheet spread out on +Richard's knee. They read slowly in unison, "Dear +friend," then turned over the paper and sought the +last line. "Your grateful friend Dave."</p> + +<p>"We don't know any more now than we did before," +said Georgina, virtuously folding up the letter +and slipping it back into the envelope.</p> + +<p>"Let's take it to Uncle Darcy. Then he'll let us +go along and ring the bell when he calls, 'Found.'"</p> + +<p>Richard had two objections to this. "Who'd pay +him for doing it? Besides, it's gold money, and anybody +who loses that much would advertise for it in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +the papers. Let's keep it till this week's papers come +out, and then we'll have the fun of taking it to the +person who lost it."</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be safe for us to keep it," was Georgina's +next objection. "It's gold money and burglars +might find out we had it."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll tell you"——Richard's face shone as +he made the suggestion—"Let's <i>bury</i> it. That will +keep it safe till we can find the owner, and when we +dig it up we can play it's pirate gold and it'll be like +finding real treasure."</p> + +<p>"Lets!" agreed Georgina. "We can keep out +something, a nickel or a dime, and when we go to dig +up the pouch we can throw it over toward the place +where we buried the bag and say, 'Brother, go find +your brother,' the way Tom Sawyer did. Then we'll +be certain to hit the spot."</p> + +<p>Richard picked up the compass, and rubbed the +polished sides of the nut in which it was set.</p> + +<p>"I'll keep this out instead of a nickel. I wonder +what the fellow's name was that this D. D. stands +for?"</p> + +<p>Half an hour later two bloody-minded sea-robbers +slipped through the back gate of the Milford place +and took their stealthy way out into the dunes. No +fierce mustachios or hoop ear-rings marked them on +this occasion as the Dread Destroyer or the Menace +of the Main. The time did not seem favorable for +donning their real costumes. So one went disguised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +as a dainty maiden in a short pink frock and long +brown curls, and the other as a sturdy boy in a grass-stained +linen suit with a hole in the knee of his stocking. +But their speech would have betrayed their evil +business had anyone been in earshot of it. One +would have thought it was</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Wild Roger come again.</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>He spoke of forays and of frays upon the Spanish Main.</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Having real gold to bury made the whole affair +seem a real adventure. They were recounting to +each other as they dug, the bloody fight it had taken +to secure this lot of treasure.</p> + +<p>Down in a hollow where the surrounding sand-ridges +sheltered them from view, they crouched over +a small basket they had brought with them and performed +certain ceremonies. First the pouch was +wrapped in many sheets of tin foil, which Richard +had been long in collecting from various tobacco-loving +friends. When that was done it flashed in the +sun like a nugget of wrinkled silver. This was +stuffed into a baking-powder can from which the label +had been carefully scraped, and on whose lid had +been scratched with a nail, the names Georgina Huntingdon +and Richard Moreland, with the date.</p> + +<p>"We'd better put our everyday names on it instead +of our pirate names," Gory George suggested.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +"For if anything should happen that some other +pirate dug it up first they wouldn't know who the +Dread Destroyer and the Menace of the Main +were."</p> + +<p>Lastly, from the basket was taken the end of a +wax candle, several matches and a stick of red sealing-wax, +borrowed from Cousin James' desk. +Holding the end of the sealing-wax over the lighted +candle until it was soft and dripping, Richard daubed +it around the edge of the can lid, as he had seen the +man in the express office seal packages. He had +always longed to try it himself. There was something +peculiarly pleasing in the smell of melted sealing-wax. +Georgina found it equally alluring. She +took the stick away from him when it was about half +used, and finished it.</p> + +<p>"There won't be any to put back in Cousin James' +desk if you keep on using it," he warned her.</p> + +<p>"I'm not using any more than you did," she answered, +and calmly proceeded to smear on the remainder. +"If you had let me seal with the first end +of the stick, you'd have had all the last end to save."</p> + +<p>All this time Captain Kidd sat close beside them, +an interested spectator, but as they began digging +the hole he rushed towards it and pawed violently +at each shovelful of sand thrown out.</p> + +<p>"Aw, let him help!" Richard exclaimed when +Georgina ordered him to stop. "He ought to have +a part in it because he found the pouch and was starting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +to bury it his own self when I took it away from +him and spoiled his fun."</p> + +<p>Georgina saw the justice of the claim and allowed +Captain Kidd to join in as he pleased, but no sooner +did they stop digging to give him a chance than he +stopped also.</p> + +<p>"Rats!" called Richard in a shrill whisper.</p> + +<p>At that familiar word the dog began digging so +frantically that the sand flew in every direction. +Each time he paused for breath Richard called +"Rats" again. It doubled the interest for both children +to have the dog take such frantic and earnest +part in their game.</p> + +<p>When the hole was pronounced deep enough the +can was dropped in, the sand shoveled over it and +tramped down, and a marker made. A long, forked +stick, broken from a bayberry bush, was run into the +ground so that only the fork of it was visible. Then +at twenty paces from the stick, Richard stepping them +off in four directions, consulting the little compass +in so doing, Georgina placed the markers, four sections +of a broken crock rescued from the ash-barrel +and brought down in the basket for that especial +purpose.</p> + +<p>"We'll let it stay buried for a week," said Richard +when all was done. "Unless somebody claims it +sooner. If they don't come in a week, then we'll +know they're never coming, and the gold will be +ours."</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A NARROW ESCAPE</div> + + +<div class='cap'>MR. MILFORD was stretched out in a hammock +on the front porch of the bungalow when the +children came back from the dunes with their empty +basket. They could not see him as they climbed up +the terrace, the porch being high above them and +draped with vines; and he deep in a new book was +only vaguely conscious of approaching voices.</div> + +<p>They were discussing the "Rescues of Rosalind," +the play they had seen the night before on the films. +Their shrill, eager tones would have attracted the +attention of anyone less absorbed than Mr. Milford.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet you couldn't," Georgina was saying. "If +you were gagged and bound the way Rosalind was, +you <i>couldn't</i> get loose, no matter how you squirmed +and twisted."</p> + +<p>"Come back in the garage and try me," Richard +retorted. "I'll prove it to you that I can."</p> + +<p>"<i>Always</i> an automobile dashes up and there's a +chase. It's been that way in every movie I ever +saw," announced Georgina with the air of one who +has attended nightly through many seasons.</p> + +<p>"I can do that part all right," declared Richard. +"I can run an automobile."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was no disputing that fact, no matter how +contradictory Georgina's frame of mind. Only the +day before she had seen him take the wheel and run +the car for three miles under the direction of Cousin +James, when they came to a level stretch of road.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you know your Cousin James said you +were never to do it unless he was along himself. You +wasn't to dare to touch it when you were out with +only the chauffeur."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't care if we got in and didn't start +anything but the engine," said Richard. "Climb in +and play that I'm running away with you. With +the motor chugging away and shaking the machine +it'll seem as if we're really going."</p> + +<p>By this time they were inside the garage, with the +doors closed behind them.</p> + +<p>"Now you get in and keep looking back the way +Rosalind did to see how near they are to catching +us."</p> + +<p>Instantly Georgina threw herself into the spirit +of the game. Climbing into the back seat she assumed +the pose of the kidnapped bride whose adventures +had thrilled them the night before.</p> + +<p>"Play my white veil is floating out in the wind," +she commanded, "and I'm looking back and waving +to my husband to come faster and take me away from +the dreadful villain who is going to kill me for my +jewels. I wish this car was out of doors instead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +in this dark garage. When I look back I look bang +against the closed door every time, and I can't make +it seem as if I was seeing far down the road."</p> + +<p>"Play it's night," suggested Richard. He had put +on a pair of goggles and was making a great pretence +of getting ready to start. Georgina, leaning +out as Rosalind had done, waved her lily hand in +frantic beckonings for her rescuers to follow faster. +The motor chugged harder and harder. The car +shook violently.</p> + +<p>To the vivid imaginations of the passengers, the +chase was as exciting as if the automobile were really +plunging down the road instead of throbbing steadily +in one spot in the dim garage. The gas rolling up +from somewhere in the back made it wonderfully +realistic. But out on the open road the smell of +burning gasoline would not have been so overpowering. +Inside the little box-like garage it began to +close in on them and settle down like a dense fog.</p> + +<p>Georgina coughed and Richard looked back apprehensively, +feeling that something was wrong, and +if that queer smoke didn't stop pouring out in such +a thick cloud he'd have to shut off the engine or do +something. Another moment passed and he leaned +forward, fumbling for the key, but he couldn't find +it. He had grown queerly confused and light-headed. +He couldn't make his fingers move where +he wanted them to go.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>He looked back at Georgina. She wasn't waving +her hands any more. She was lying limply back on +the seat as if too tired to play any longer. And a +thousand miles away—at least it sounded that far—above +the terrific noise the motor was making, he +heard Captain Kidd barking. They were short, excited +barks, so thin and queer, almost as thin and +queer as if he were barking with the voice of a +mosquito instead of his own.</p> + +<p>And then—Richard heard nothing more, not even +the noise of the motor. His hand dropped from the +wheel, and he began slipping down, down from the +seat to the floor of the car, white and limp, overcome +like Georgina, by the fumes of the poisonous +gas rolling up from the carburetor.</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford, up in the hammock, had been +vaguely conscious for several minutes of unusual +sounds somewhere in the neighborhood, but it was +not until he reached the end of the chapter that he +took any intelligent notice. Then he looked up thinking +somebody's machine was making a terrible fuss +somewhere near. But it wasn't that sound which +made him sit up in the hammock. It was Captain +Kidd's frantic barking and yelping and whining as if +something terrible was happening to him.</p> + +<p>Standing up to stretch himself, then walking to the +corner of the porch, Mr. Milford looked out. He +could see the little terrier alternately scratching on +the garage door and making frantic efforts to dig<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +under it. Evidently he felt left out and was trying +desperately to join his little playmates, or else he felt +that something was wrong inside.</p> + +<p>Then it came to Mr. Milford in a flash that something +<i>was</i> wrong inside. Nobody ever touched that +machine but himself and the chauffeur, and the +chauffeur, who was having a day off, was half-way to +Yarmouth by this time. He didn't wait to go down +by the steps. With one leap he was over the railing, +crashing through the vines, and running down the +terrace to the garage.</p> + +<p>As he rolled back one of the sliding doors a suffocating +burst of gas rushed into his face. He pushed +both doors open wide, and with a hand over his +mouth and nose hurried through the heavily-charged +atmosphere to shut off the motor. The fresh air +rushing in, began clearing away the fumes, and he +seized Georgina and carried her out, thinking she +would be revived by the time he was back with Richard. +But neither child stirred from the grass where +he stretched them out.</p> + +<p>As he called for the cook and the housekeeper, +there flashed into his mind an account he had read +recently in a New York paper, of a man and his wife +who had been asphyxiated in just such a way as this. +Now thoroughly alarmed, he sent the cook running +down the Green Stairs to summon Richard's father +from the studio, and the housekeeper to telephone in +various directions. Three doctors were there in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +miraculously short time, but despite all they could do +at the end of half an hour both little figures still lay +white and motionless.</p> + +<p>Then the pulmotor that had been frantically telephoned +for arrived from the life-saving station, and +just as the man dashed up with that, Mrs. Triplett +staggered up the terrace, her knees shaking so that +she could scarcely manage to climb the last few +steps.</p> + +<p>Afterwards, the happenings of the day were very +hazy in Georgina's mind. She had an indistinct +recollection of being lifted in somebody's arms and +moved about, and of feeling very sick and weak. +Somebody said soothingly to somebody who was crying:</p> + +<p>"Oh, the worst is over now. They're both beginning +to come around."</p> + +<p>Then she was in her own bed and the wild-cat from +the banks of the Brazos was bending over her. At +least, she thought it was the wild-cat, because she +smelled the liniment as strongly as she did when +she climbed up in the wagon beside it. But when she +opened her eyes it was Tippy who was bending over +her, smoothing her curls in a comforting, purry way, +but the smell of liniment still hung in the air.</p> + +<p>Then Georgina remembered something that must +have happened before she was carried home from +the bungalow.—Captain Kidd squirming out of Tippy's +arms, and Tippy with the tears streaming down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +her face trying to hold him and hug him as if he had +been a person, and the Milford's cook saying: "If +it hadn't been for the little beast's barkin' they'd have +been dead in a few minutes more. Then there'd +have been a double funeral, poor lambs."</p> + +<p>Georgina smiled drowsily now and slipped off +to sleep again, but later when she awakened the +charm of the cook's phrase aroused her thoroughly, +and she lay wondering what "a double funeral" was +like. Would it have been at her house or Richard's? +Would two little white coffins have stood side by side, +or would each have been in its own place, with the +two solemn processions meeting and joining at the +foot of the Green Stairs. Maybe they would have +put on her tombstone, "None knew her but to love +her." No, that couldn't be said about her. She'd +been wilfully disobedient too often for that, like the +time she played with the Portuguese children on purpose +to spite Tippy. She was sorry for that disobedience +now, for she had discovered that Tippy +was fonder of her than she had supposed. She had +proved it by hugging Captain Kidd so gratefully +for saving their lives, when she simply <i>loathed</i> dogs.</p> + +<p>Somehow Georgina felt that she was better acquainted +with Mrs. Triplett than she had ever been +before, and fonder of her. Lying there in the dark +she made several good resolutions. She was going +to be a better girl in the future. She was going to do +kind, lovely things for everybody, so that if an early<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +tomb should claim her, every heart in town would be +saddened by her going. It would be lovely to leave +a widespread heartache behind her. She wished she +could live such a life that there wouldn't be a dry eye +in the town when it was whispered from house to +house that little Georgina Huntingdon was with the +angels.</p> + +<p>She pictured Belle's grief, and Uncle Darcy's and +Richard's. She had already seen Tippy's. But it +was a very different thing when she thought of Barby. +There was no pleasure in imagining Barby's grief. +There was something too real and sharp in the pain +which darted into her own heart at the thought of +it. She wanted to put her arms around her mother +and ward off sorrow and trouble from her and keep +all tears away from those dear eyes. She wanted to +grow up and take care of her darling Barby and protect +her from the Tishbite.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it occurred to Georgina that in this escape +she had been kept from the power of that mysterious +evil which had threatened her ever since she +called it forth by doing such a wicked thing as to +use the "Sacred Book" to work a charm.</p> + +<p>She had been put to bed in the daytime, hence her +evening petitions were still unsaid. Now she pulled +the covers over her head and included them all in one +fervent appeal:</p> + +<p>"And keep on delivering us from the Tishbite, +forever and ever, Amen!"</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WHAT THE STORM DID</div> + + +<div class='cap'>NEXT morning nearly everyone in the town was +talking about the storm. Belle said what with +the booming of the waves against the breakwater +and the wind rattling the shutters, she hadn't slept a +wink all night. It seemed as if every gust would +surely take the house off its foundations.</div> + +<p>Old Jeremy reported that it was one of the worst +wind-storms ever known along the Cape, wild enough +to blow all the sand dunes into the sea. They'd had +the best shaking up and shifting around that they'd +had in years, he declared. Captain Ames' cranberry +bog was buried so deep in sand you couldn't see a +blossom or a leaf. And there was sand drifted all +over the garden. It had whirled clear over the wall, +till the bird pool was half full of it.</p> + +<p>Georgina listened languidly, feeling very comfortable +and important with her breakfast brought in +to her on a tray. Tippy thought it was too chilly +for her in the dining-room where there was no fire. +Jeremy had kindled a cheerful blaze on the living-room +hearth and his tales of damage done to the +shipping and to roofs and chimneys about town,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +seemed to emphasize her own safety and comfort. +The only thing which made the storm seem a personal +affair was the big limb blown off the willow tree.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett and Jeremy could remember a storm +years ago which shifted the sand until the whole face +of the Cape seemed changed. That was before the +Government planted grass all over it, to bind it together +with firm roots. Later when the ring of an +axe told that the willow limb was being chopped in +pieces, Georgina begged to be allowed to go outdoors.</p> + +<p>"Let me go out and see the tracks of the storm," +she urged. "I feel all right. I'm all over the gas +now."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Triplett preferred to run no risks. All +she said to Georgina was:</p> + +<p>"No, after such a close call as you had yesterday +you stay right here where I can keep an eye on you, +and take it quietly for a day or two," but when she +went into the next room Georgina heard her say to +Belle:</p> + +<p>"There's no knowing how that gas may have affected +her heart."</p> + +<p>Georgina made a face at the first speech, but the +second one made her lie down languidly on the sofa +with her finger on her pulse. She was half persuaded +that there was something wrong with the way it beat, +and was about to ask faintly if she couldn't have a +little blackberry cordial with her lunch, when she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +heard Richard's alley call outside and Captain Kidd's +quick bark.</p> + +<p>She started up, forgetting all about the cordial and +her pulse, and was skipping to the front door when +Tippy hurried in from the dining-room and reached +it first. She had a piece of an old coffee sack in her +hand.</p> + +<p>"Here!" she said abruptly to Richard, who was +so surprised at the sudden opening of the door that +he nearly fell in against her.</p> + +<p>"You catch that dog and hold him while I wipe his +feet. I can't have any dirty quadruped like that, +tracking up my clean floors."</p> + +<p>Georgina looked at the performance in amazement. +Tippy scrubbing away at Captain Kidd's +muddy paws till all four of them were clean, and +then actually letting him come into the house and +curl up on the hearth! Tippy, who never touched +dogs except with the end of a broom! She could +scarcely believe what her own eyes told her. She and +Richard must have had a "close call," indeed, closer +than either of them realized, to make such a wonderful +change in Tippy.</p> + +<p>And the change was towards Richard, too. She +had never seemed to like him much better than his +dog. She blamed him for taking the cream bottles +when they played pirate, and she thought it made +little girls boisterous and rude to play with boys, and +she wondered at Barby's letting Georgina play with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +him. Several times she had done her wondering +out loud, so that Georgina heard her, and wanted +to say things back—shocking things, such as Rosa +said to Joseph. But she never said them. There +was always that old silver porringer, sitting prim and +lady-like upon the sideboard.</p> + +<p>Things were different to-day. After the dog's +paws were wiped dry Tippy asked Richard how he +felt after the accident, and she asked it as if she really +cared and wanted to know. And she brought in a +plate of early summer apples, the first in the market, +and told him to help himself and put some in his +pocket. And there was the checker-board if they +wanted to play checkers or dominoes. Her unusual +concern for their entertainment impressed Georgina +more than anything else she could have done with the +seriousness of the danger they had been in. She felt +very solemn and important, and thanked Tippy with +a sweet, patient air, befitting one who has just been +brought up from the "valley of the shadow."</p> + +<p>The moment they were alone Richard began +breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"Say. On the way here I went by that place where +we buried the pouch, and what do you think? The +markers are out of sight and the whole place itself +is buried—just filled up level. What are we going +to do about it?"</p> + +<p>The seriousness of the situation did not impress +Georgina until he added, "S'pose the person who lost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +it comes back for it? Maybe we'd be put in prison."</p> + +<p>"But nobody knows it's buried except you and me."</p> + +<p>Richard scuffed one shoe against the other and +looked into the fire.</p> + +<p>"But Aunt Letty says there's no getting around +it, 'Be sure your sin will find you out,' always. And +I'm awfully unlucky that way. Seems to me I never +did anything in my life that I oughtn't to a done, that +I didn't get found out. Aunt Letty has a book that +she reads to me sometimes when I'm going to bed, +that proves it. Every story in it proves it. One is +about a traveler who murdered a man, and kept it +secret for twenty years. Then he gave it away, talking +in his sleep. And one was a feather in a boy's +coat pocket. It led to its being found out that he was +a chicken thief. There's about forty such stories, +and everyone of them prove your sin is sure to find +you out some time before you die, even if you cover +it up for years and years."</p> + +<p>"But we didn't do any sin," protested Georgina. +"We just buried a pouch that the dog found, to keep +it safe, and if a big wind came along and covered +it up so we can't find it, that isn't our fault. We +didn't make the wind blow, did we?"</p> + +<p>"But there was gold money in that pouch," insisted +Richard, "and it wasn't ours, and maybe the +letter was important and we ought to have turned it +over to Dad or Uncle Darcy or the police or somebody."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>Aunt Letty's bedtime efforts to keep Richard's +conscience tender were far more effective than she +had dreamed. He was quoting Aunt Letty now.</p> + +<p>"We wouldn't want anybody to do <i>our</i> things that +way." Then a thought of his own came to him, +"You wouldn't want the police coming round and +taking you off to the lockup, would you? I saw 'em +take Binney Rogers one time, just because he broke +a window that he didn't mean to. He was only shying +a rock at a sparrow. There was a cop on each +side of him a hold of his arm, and Binney's mother +and sister were following along behind crying and +begging them not to take him something awful. But +all they could say didn't do a speck of good."</p> + +<p>The picture carried weight. In spite of her light +tone Georgina was impressed, but she said defiantly:</p> + +<p>"Well, nobody saw us do it."</p> + +<p>"You don't know," was the gloomy answer. +"Somebody might have been up in the monument +with a spy glass, looking down. There's always +people up there spying around, or out on the masts in +the harbor, and if some sleuth was put on the trail +of that pouch the first thing that would happen would +be he'd come across the very person with the glass. +It always happens that way, and I know, because +Binney Rogers has read almost all the detective +stories there is, and he said so."</p> + +<p>A feeling of uneasiness began to clutch at Georgina's +interior. Richard spoke so knowingly and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +convincingly that she felt a real need for blackberry +cordial. But she said with a defiant little uplift of +her chin:</p> + +<p>"Well, as long as we didn't mean to do anything +wrong, I'm not going to get scared about it. I'm +just going to bear up and steer right on, and keep +hoping that everything will turn out all right so hard +that it will."</p> + +<p>Her "line to live by" buoyed her up so successfully +for the time being, that Richard, too, felt the +cheerful influence of it, and passed to more cheerful +subjects.</p> + +<p>"We're going to be in all the papers," he announced. +"A reporter called up from Boston to ask +Cousin James how it happened. There's only been +a few cases like ours in the whole United States. +Won't you feel funny to see your name in the paper? +Captain Kidd will have his name in, too. I heard +Cousin James say over the telephone that he was +the hero of the hour; that if he hadn't given the +alarm we wouldn't have been discovered till it was +too late."</p> + +<p>Richard did not stay long. The finished portrait +was to be hung in the Art gallery in the Town Hall +that morning and he wanted to be on hand at the +hanging. Later it would be sent to the New York +exhibition.</p> + +<p>"Daddy's going to let me go with him when Mr. +Locke comes for him on his yacht. He's going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +take me because I sat still and let him get such a good +picture. It's the best he's ever done. We'll be +gone a week."</p> + +<p>"When are you going?" demanded Georgina.</p> + +<p>"Oh, in a few days, whenever Mr. Locke comes."</p> + +<p>"I hope we can find that pouch first," she answered. +Already she was beginning to feel little and +forlorn and left behind. "It'll be awful lonesome +with you and Barby both gone."</p> + +<p>Tippy came in soon after Richard left and sat +down at the secretary.</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking I ought to write to your +mother and let her know about yesterday's performance +before she has a chance to hear it from outsiders +or the papers. It's a whole week to-day since she +left."</p> + +<p>"A week," echoed Georgina. "Is that all? It +seems a month at least. It's been so long."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett tossed her a calendar from the desk.</p> + +<p>"Count it up for yourself," she said. "She left +two days before your birthday and this is the Wednesday +after."</p> + +<p>While Mrs. Triplett began her letter Georgina +studied the calendar, putting her finger on a date as +she recalled the various happenings of it. Each day +had been long and full. That one afternoon when +she and Richard found the paper in the rifle seemed +an age in itself. It seemed months since they had +promised Belle and Uncle Darcy to keep the secret.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>She glanced up, about to say so, then bit her +tongue, startled at having so nearly betrayed the fact +of their having a secret. Then the thought came to +her that Emmett's sin had found him out in as strange +a way as that of the man who talked in his sleep or +the chicken thief to whom the feather clung. It was +one more proof added to the forty in Aunt Letty's +book. Richard's positiveness made a deeper impression +on her than she liked to acknowledge. She +shut her eyes a moment, squinting them up so tight +that her eyelids wrinkled, and hoped as hard as she +could hope that everything would turn out all right.</p> + +<p>"What on earth is the matter with you, child?" +exclaimed Tippy, looking up from her letter in time +to catch Georgina with her face thus screwed into +wrinkles.</p> + +<p>Georgina opened her eyes with a start.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," was the embarrassed answer. "I was +just thinking."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/i016.png" width="300" height="147" alt="man walking with girl and ringing bell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>IN THE KEEPING OF THE DUNES</div> + + +<div class='cap'>SCARCELY had Georgina convinced herself by +the calendar that it had been only one short week +since Barby went away instead of the endlessly long +time it seemed, than a letter was brought in to her.</div> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My Dear Little Rainbow-maker</span>," it began.</p> + +<p>"You are surely a prism your own self, for you +have made a blessed bright spot in the world for me, +ever since you came into it. I read your letter to +papa, telling all about your birthday and the prism +Uncle Darcy gave you. It cheered him up wonderfully. +I was so proud of you when he said it was a +fine letter, and that he'd have to engage you as a +special correspondent on his paper some day.</p> + +<p>"At first the doctors thought his sight was entirely +destroyed, by the flying glass of the broken windshield, +but now they are beginning to hope that one +eye at least may be saved, and possibly the other. +Papa is very doubtful about it himself, and gets very +despondent at times. He had just been having an +especially blue morning when your letter was brought +in, and he said, when I read it:</p> + +<p>"'That <i>is</i> a good line to live by, daughter,' and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +had me get out his volume of Milton and read the +whole sonnet that the line is taken from. The fact +that Milton was blind when he wrote it made it specially +interesting to him.</p> + +<p>"He and mamma both need me sorely now for +a little while, Baby dear, and if you can keep busy and +happy without me I'll stay away a couple of weeks +longer and help take him home to Kentucky, but I +can't be contented to stay unless you send me a postal +every day. If nothing more is on it than your name, +written by your own little fingers, it will put a rainbow +around my troubles and help me to be contented +away from you."</p> + +<p>Georgina spent the rest of the morning answering +it. She had a feeling that she must make up for her +father's neglect as a correspondent, by writing often +herself. Maybe the family at Grandfather Shirley's +wouldn't notice that there was never any letter +with a Chinese stamp on it, addressed in a man's big +hand in Barby's pile of mail, if there were others for +her to smile over.</p> + +<p>It had been four months since the last one came. +Georgina had kept careful count, although she had +not betrayed her interest except in the wistful way +she watched Barby when the postman came. It made +her throat ache to see that little shadow of disappointment +creep into Barby's lovely gray eyes and +then see her turn away with her lips pressed together +tight for a moment before she began to hum or speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +brightly about something else. No Chinese letter +had come in her absence to be forwarded.</p> + +<p>Georgina wished her father could know how very +much Barby cared about hearing from him. Maybe +if his attention were called to it he would write +oftener. If the editor of a big newspaper like Grandfather +Shirley, thought her letters were good enough +to print, maybe her father might pay attention to +one of them. A resolve to write to him some day +began to shape itself in her mind.</p> + +<p>She would have been surprised could she have +known that already one of her epistles was on its +way to him. Barby had sent him the "rainbow letter." +For Barby had not drawn off silent and hurt +when his letters ceased to come, as many a woman +would have done.</p> + +<p>"Away off there in the interior he has missed the +mails," she told herself. "Or the messenger he +trusted may have failed to post his letters, or he may +be ill. I'll not judge him until I know."</p> + +<p>After Georgina's letter came she resolutely put her +forebodings and misgivings aside many a time, +prompted by it to steer onward so steadily that hope +must do as Uncle Darcy said, "make rainbows even +of her tears."</p> + +<p>Georgina wrote on until dinner time, telling all +about the way she had spent her birthday dollar. +After dinner when the sunshine had dried all traces +of the previous night's rain, she persuaded Tippy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +that she was entirely over the effects of the gas, and +perfectly able to go down street and select the picture +postals with which to conduct her daily correspondence.</p> + +<p>Richard joined her as she passed the bungalow. +They made a thrilling afternoon for themselves by +whispering to each other whenever any strange-looking +person passed them, "S'pose <i>that</i> was the owner +of the pouch and he was looking for us." The dread +of their sin finding them out walked like a silent-footed +ghost beside them all the way, making the two +pairs of brown eyes steal furtive glances at each +other now and then, and delicious little shivers of +apprehension creep up and down their backs.</p> + +<p>Whether it was the passing of the unseasonable +weather into hot July sunshine again or whether the +wild-cat liniment was responsible, no one undertook +to say, but Mrs. Triplett's rheumatism left her suddenly, +and at a time when she was specially glad to be +rid of it. The Sewing Circle, to which she belonged, +was preparing for a bazaar at the Church of the +Pilgrims, and her part in it would keep her away +from home most of the time for three days.</p> + +<p>That is why Georgina had unlimited freedom for +a while. She was left in Belle's charge, and Belle, +still brooding over her troubles, listlessly assented to +anything proposed to her. Belle had been allowed to +go and come as she pleased when she was ten, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +she saw no reason why Georgina was not equally +capable of taking care of herself.</p> + +<p>Hardly was Mrs. Triplett out of sight that first +morning when Georgina slipped out of the back gate +with a long brass-handled fire-shovel, to meet Richard +out on the dunes. He brought a hoe, and in his +hand was the little compass imbedded in the nut.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, according to Georgina's instructions, +he turned around three times, then facing +the east tossed the compass over his shoulder, saying +solemnly, "Brother, go find your brother." She +stood ready to mark the spot when it should fall, but +Captain Kidd was ahead of her and had the nut in +his teeth before she could reach the place where it +had touched the ground. So Richard took the nut +away and held the agitated little terrier by the collar +while Georgina went through the same ceremony.</p> + +<p>This time Richard reached the nut before the dog, +and drew a circle around the spot where it had lain. +Then he began digging into the sand with the hoe so +industriously that Captain Kidd was moved to frantic +barking.</p> + +<p>"Here, get to work yourself and keep quiet," ordered +Richard. "Rats! You'll have Cousin James +coming out to see what we're doing, first thing you +know. He thinks something is the matter now, every +time you bark. Rats! I say."</p> + +<p>The magic word had its effect. After an instant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +of quivering eagerness the dog pounced into the hole +which Richard had started, and sent the sand flying +furiously around him with his active little paws. +Georgina dragged the accumulating piles aside with +the fire-shovel on one side, and Richard plied the hoe +on the other. When the hole grew too deep for Captain +Kidd to dig in longer, Richard stepped in and +went deeper. But it was unsatisfactory work. The +shifting sand, dry as powder at this depth, was constantly +caving in and filling up the space.</p> + +<p>They tried making new holes, to the north of the +old one, then to the south, then on the remaining +sides. They were still at it when the whistle at the +cold-storage plant blew for noon. Georgina rubbed +a sleeve across her red, perspiring face, and shook +the ends of her curls up and down to cool her hot +neck.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how we can dig any more to-day," she +said wearily. "The sun is blistering. I feel all +scorched."</p> + +<p>"I've had enough," confessed Richard. "But +we've got to find that pouch."</p> + +<p>After a moment's rest, leaning on the hoe-handle, +he had an inspiration. "Let's get Manuel and Joseph +and Rosa to help us. They'd dig all day for a +nickel."</p> + +<p>"I haven't one nickel left," said Georgina. Then +she thought a moment. "But I could bring some +jelly-roll. Those Fayals would dig for eats as quick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +as they would for money. I'll tell Belle we're going +to have a sort of a picnic over here and she'll let me +bring all that's left in the cake box."</p> + +<p>Richard investigated his pockets. A solitary nickel +was all he could turn out. "Two cents for each of +the boys and one for Rosa," he said, but Georgina +shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Rosa would make trouble if you divided that +way. She'd howl till somebody came to see what +was the matter. But we could do this way. The +one who gets the least money gets the most jelly-roll. +We'll wait till the digging is over and then let +them divide it to suit themselves."</p> + +<p>By five o'clock that afternoon, the compass had +been sent to "hunt brother" in a hundred different +places, and the hollow circled by the bayberry bushes +and beach plums where the pouch had been hidden +filled with deep holes. Captain Kidd had responded +to the repeated call of "Rats" until the magic word +had lost all charm for him. Even a dog comes to +understand in time when a fellow creature has "an +axe to grind." Finally, he went off and lay down, +merely wagging his tail in a bored way when any +further effort was made to arouse his enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The Fayal children, working valiantly in the +trenches, laid down arms at last and strolled home, +their faces streaked with jelly-roll, and Georgina +went wearily up the beach, dragging her fire-shovel +after her. She felt that she had had enough of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +dunes to last her the rest of her natural lifetime. She +seemed to see piles of sand even when she looked at +the water or when her eyes were shut.</p> + +<p>"But we won't give up," she said staunchly as she +parted from Richard. "We're obliged to find that +pouch, so we've <i>got</i> to keep hope at the prow."</p> + +<p>"Pity all this good digging has to be wasted," said +Richard, looking around at the various holes. "If +it had all been in one place, straight down, it would +have been deep enough to strike a pirate's chest by +this time. I hope they'll fill up before anybody comes +this way to notice them."</p> + +<p>"Somehow, I'm not so anxious as I was to go off +'a-piratin' so bold,'" said Georgina with a tired sigh. +"I've had enough digging to last me forever and always, +amen."</p> + +<p>The Fayal children, surfeited with one afternoon +of such effort, and not altogether satisfied as to the +division of wages which had led to war in their +midst, did not come back to the Place of the Pouch +next morning, but Richard and Georgina appeared +promptly, albeit with sore muscles and ebbing enthusiasm. +Only stern necessity and fear of consequences +kept them at their task.</p> + +<p>Cousin James had reported that there was a fishing +vessel in that morning with two enormous horse +mackerel in the catch, which were to be cut up and +salted at Railroad wharf. It was deliciously cool +down on the wharf, with the breeze blowing off the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +water through the great packing shed, and the white +sails scudding past the open doors like fans. With +Mrs. Triplett busy with the affairs of the Bazaar, +it would have been a wonderful opportunity for +Georgina to have gone loitering along the pier, +watching the summer people start off in motor boats +or spread themselves lazily under flapping sails for +a trip around the harbor.</p> + +<p>But something of the grim spirit of their ancestors, +typified by the monument looking down on them +from the hill, nerved both Richard and Georgina one +more time to answer to the stern call of Duty.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/i017.png" width="450" height="183" alt="Girl walking dog" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>FOUND OUT</div> + + +<div class='cap'>"I DREAMED about that old pouch last night," +said Richard in one of the intervals of rest +which they allowed themselves.</div> + +<p>"I dreamed that it belonged to a Chinese man +with crooked, yellow finger-nails a foot long. He +came and stood over my bed and said that because +there was important news in that letter and we buried +it, and kept it from going to where it ought to go, <i>we</i> +had to be buried alive. And he picked me up like I +was that nut and tossed me over his shoulder, and +said, 'Brother, go find your brother.' And I began +sinking down in the sand deeper and deeper until I +began to smother."</p> + +<p>Georgina made no answer. The dream did not +impress her as being at all terrifying. She had swung +her prism around her neck that morning when she +dressed, and now while she rested she amused herself +by flashing the bars of color across Captain Kidd. +Richard resented her lack of interest.</p> + +<p>"Well, it may not sound very bad out here in the +daylight, but you ought to have <i>had</i> it. I yelled until +Daddy shook me and told me I'd wake up the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +end of town with such a nightmare. If you'd have +seen that old Chinaman's face like a dragon's, you'd +understand why I feel that we've just got to find that +pouch. It's going to get us into some kind of trouble, +certain sure, if we don't."</p> + +<p>Georgina rose to begin digging again. "It's lucky +nobody ever comes this way to see all these holes," +she began, but stopped with her shovel half lifted. A +familiar voice from the circle of bushes at the top of +the dune called down cheerily:</p> + +<p>"Ship ahoy, mates. What port are you bound for +now? Digging through to China?"</p> + +<p>"It's Uncle Darcy!" they exclaimed in the same +breath. He came plunging down the side of the dune +before they could recover from their confusion. +There was a pail of blueberries in each hand. He +had been down the state road picking them, and was +now on his way to the Gray Inn to sell them to the +housekeeper. Leaving the pails in a level spot under +the shade of a scrubby bush, he came on to where +the children were standing, and eased himself stiffly +down to a seat on the sand. It amused him to see +their evident embarrassment, and his eyes twinkled +as he inquired:</p> + +<p>"What mischief are you up to now, digging all +those gopher holes?"</p> + +<p>Neither answered for a moment, then Georgina +gulped and found her voice. "It's—it's a secret," +she managed to say.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh," he answered, growing instantly grave at the +sound of that word. "Then I mustn't ask any questions. +We must always keep our secrets. Sometimes +it's a pity though, when one has to promise to +do so. I hope yours isn't the burden to you that mine +is to me."</p> + +<p>This was the first time he had spoken to them of +the promise they had made to him and Belle. With +a look all around as if to make certain the coast was +clear, he said:</p> + +<p>"There's something I've been wanting to say to +you children ever since that day you had the rifle, +and now's as good a chance as any. I want you to +know that I never would have promised what I did +if it could have made any possible difference to +Mother. But lately she seems all confused about +Danny's trouble. She seems to have forgotten there +was any trouble except that he went away from home. +For months she's been looking for him to walk in +most any day.</p> + +<p>"Ever since I gave my word to Belle, I've been +studying over the right and wrong of it. I felt I +wasn't acting fair to Danny. But now it's clear in +my mind that it <i>was</i> the right thing to do. I argue +it this way. Danny cared so much about saving Emmett +from disgrace and Belle from the pain of finding +it out, that he was willing to give up his home +and good name and everything. Now it wouldn't be +fair to him to make that sacrifice in vain by telling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +while it can still be such a death-blow to Emmett's +father and hurt Belle much as ever. She's gone on +all these years fairly worshiping Emmett's memory +for being such a hero."</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy stopped suddenly and seemed to be +drawn far away from them as if he had gone inside +of himself with his own thoughts and forgotten their +presence. Georgina sat and fanned herself with her +shade hat. Richard fumbled with the little compass, +rolling it from one hand to the other, without giving +any thought to what he was doing. Presently it +rolled away from him and Captain Kidd darted after +it, striking it with his forepaws as he landed on it, +and thus rolling it still farther till it stopped at the +old man's feet.</p> + +<p>Recalled to his surroundings in this way, Uncle +Darcy glanced at the object indifferently, but something +strangely familiar in its appearance made him +lean closer and give it another look. He picked it +up, examining it eagerly. Then he stood up and +gazed all around as if it had dropped from the sky +and he expected to see the hand that had dropped it.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get this?" he demanded huskily, +in such a queer, breathless way that Richard thought +his day of reckoning had come. His sin had found +him out. He looked at Georgina helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, tell!" she exclaimed, answering his look.</p> + +<p>"I—I—just <i>played</i> it was mine," he began. +"'Cause the initials on it are the same as mine when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +we play pirate and I'm Dare-devil Dick. I was only +going to keep it till we dug up the pouch again. We +were keeping it to help find the pouch like Tom Sawyer +did——"</p> + +<p>It seemed to Richard that Uncle Darcy's hand, +clutching his shoulder, was even more threatening +than the Chinaman's of his nightmare, and his voice +more imperative.</p> + +<p>"Tell me! Where did you get it? <i>That's my +compass!</i> <i>I</i> scratched those letters on that nut. +'D. D.' stands for Dan'l Darcy. I brought it home +from my last voyage. 'Twas a good-luck nut they +told me in the last port I sailed from. It was one +of the first things Danny ever played with. There's +the marks of his first little tooth under those letters. +I gave it to him when he got old enough to claim it, +for the letters were his, too. He always carried it +in his pocket and <i>he had it with him when he went +away</i>. For the love of heaven, child, tell me where +you found it?"</p> + +<p>The hand which clutched Richard's shoulder was +shaking as violently as it had the day the old rifle +gave up its secret, and Richard, feeling the same unnamable +terror he had felt in his nightmare, could +only stammer, "I—I don't know. Captain Kidd +found it."</p> + +<p>Then all three of them started violently, for a +hearty voice just behind them called out unexpectedly:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hullo, what's all the excitement about?"</p> + +<p>It was Captain James Milford, who had strolled +down from the bungalow, his hat stuck jauntily on +the back of his head, and his hands in his pockets. +A few moments before he had been scanning the +harbor through a long spy-glass, and happening to +turn it towards the dunes had seen the two children +digging diligently with shovel and hoe.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if they'd started to honey-comb the +whole Cape with holes," he thought. "Curious how +many things kids of that age can think of. It might +be well to step down and see what they're about."</p> + +<p>He put up the spy-glass and started down, approaching +them on one side as the Towncrier reached +them on the other.</p> + +<p>"Now for a yarn that'll make their eyes stand +out," he thought with a smile as he saw the old man +sit down on the sand.</p> + +<p>"Wonder if it would sound as thrilling now as it +did when I was Dick's age. I believe I'll just slip +up and listen to one for old times' sake."</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy let go of Richard's shoulder and +turned to the newcomer appealingly.</p> + +<p>"Jimmy," he said with a choke in his voice. "Look +at this! The first trace of my boy since he left me, +and they can't tell me where they got it."</p> + +<p>He held out the compass and Mr. Milford took it +from his trembling fingers.</p> + +<p>"Why, <i>I</i> remember this old trinket, Uncle Dan'l!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +exclaimed Mr. Milford. "You let me carry it in +my pocket one day when I was no bigger than Dicky, +here, when you took me fishing with you. I thought +it was responsible for my luck, for I made my first +big catch that day. Got a mackerel that I bragged +about all season."</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy seized the man's arm with the same +desperate grip which had held the boy's.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to understand!" he exclaimed. +"I'm trying to tell you that <i>Danny</i> is mixed up with +this in some way. Either he's been near here or +somebody else has who's seen him. He had this with +him when he went away, I tell you. These children +say they took it out of a pouch that the dog found. +Help me, Jimmy. I can't seem to think——"</p> + +<p>He sat weakly down on the sand again, his head in +his hands, and Mr. Milford, deeply interested, +turned to the children. His questions called out a +confusing and involved account, told piecemeal by +Georgina and Richard in turn.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, now, let's get the straight of this," he +interrupted, growing more bewildered as the story +proceeded. "What was in the pouch besides the +gold pieces, the other money and this compass?"</p> + +<p>"A letter with a foreign stamp on it," answered +Richard. "I noticed specially, because I have a +stamp almost like it in my album."</p> + +<p>On being closely cross-questioned he could not +say positively to what country the stamp belonged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +He thought it was Siam or China. Georgina recalled +several names of towns partially scratched +out on the back of the envelope, and the word Texas. +She was sure of that and of "Mass." and of "Mrs. +Henry——" something or other.</p> + +<p>"But the inside of the letter," persisted Mr. Milford. +"Didn't you try to read that?"</p> + +<p>"Course not," said Georgina, her head indignantly +high. "We only looked at each end of it to see if the +person's name was on it, but it began, 'Dear friend,' +and ended, 'Your grateful friend Dave.'"</p> + +<p>"So the letter was addressed '<i>Mrs.</i>,'" began Mr. +Milford, musingly, "but was in a tobacco pouch. +The first fact argues that a woman lost it, the last +that it was a man."</p> + +<p>"But it didn't smell of tobacco," volunteered +Georgina. "It was nice and clean only where Captain +Kidd chewed the string."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it didn't have any smell at all," said +Mr. Milford, not as if he expected anyone to remember, +but that he happened to think of it. A +slowly dawning recollection began to brighten in +Georgina's eyes.</p> + +<p>"But it did have a smell," she exclaimed. "I remember +it perfectly well now. Don't you know, +Richard, when you were untying it at the top of the +steps I said 'Phew! that makes me think of the liniment +I bought from the wild-cat woman last night,' +I had to hold the bottle in my lap all the time we +were at the moving picture show so I had a chance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +to get pretty well acquainted with that smell. And +afterwards when we were wrapping the tin foil +around the pouch, getting ready to bury it we both +turned up our noses at the way it smelled. It seemed +stronger when the sun shone on it."</p> + +<p>"The wild-cat woman," repeated Mr. Milford, +turning on Georgina. "Where was she? What did +you have to do with her? Was the dog with you?"</p> + +<p>Little by little they began to recall the evening, +how they had started to the show with the Fayal +family and turned aside to hear the patent medicine +man sing, how Richard and Georgina had dared each +other to touch the wild-cat's tail through the bars, +and how Georgina in climbing down from the wheel +had stumbled over Captain Kidd whom they thought +safely shut up at home.</p> + +<p>"I believe we've found a clue," said Mr. Milford +at last. "If anybody in town had lost it there'd have +been a notice put up in the post-office or the owner +would have been around for you to cry it, Uncle +Dan'l. But if it's the wild-cat woman's she probably +did not discover her loss till she was well out of town, +and maybe not until she reached her next stopping-place."</p> + +<p>"There's been nothing of the sort posted on the +bulletin board at the post-office," said the old man. +"I always glance in at it every morning."</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford looked at him thoughtfully as if considering +something. Then he said slowly:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Uncle Dan'l, just how much would it mean to +you to find the owner of that pouch?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Jimmy," was the tremulous answer, "if it +led to any trace of my boy it would be the one great +hope of my life realized."</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure that you <i>want</i> to bring him +back? That it would be best for all concerned?" +he continued meaningly.</p> + +<p>There was a silence, then the old man answered +with dignity:</p> + +<p>"I know what you're thinking of, and considering +all that's gone before, I'm not blaming you, but I can +tell you this, Jimmy Milford. If the town could +know all that I know it'd be glad and proud to have +my boy brought back to it."</p> + +<p>He smote the fist of one hand into the palm of the +other and looked about like something trapped, seeking +escape.</p> + +<p>"It isn't fair!" he exclaimed. "It isn't fair! Him +worthy to hold up his head with the best of them, and +me bound not to tell. But I've given my promise," +he added, shaking his head slowly from side to side. +"I s'pose it'll all work out for the best, somehow, in +the Lord's own good time, but I can't seem to see +the justice in it now."</p> + +<p>He sat staring dejectedly ahead of him with dim, +appealing eyes.</p> + +<p>The younger man took a step forward and laid +an arm across the bent shoulders.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right, Uncle Dan'l," he said heartily. "If +there's anything under the sun I can do to help you +I'm going to do it, beginning right now. Come on +up to the house and I'll begin this Sherlock Holmes +business by telephoning down the Cape to every town +on it till we locate this wild-cat liniment wagon, and +then we'll get after it as fast as the best automobile +in Provincetown can take us."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/i007.png" width="225" height="158" alt="man ringing handbell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>TRACING THE LINIMENT WAGON</div> + + +<div class='cap'>TO Wellfleet, to Orleans, to Chatham went the +telephone call, to Harwichport and then back +again to the little towns on the bay side of the Cape, +for the wild-cat and its keepers did not follow a +straight course in their meanderings. It was some +time before Mr. Milford succeeded in locating them. +At last he hung up the receiver announcing:</div> + +<p>"They showed in Orleans last night all right, but +it wasn't the road to Chatham they took out of there +this morning. It was to Brewster. We can easily +overtake them somewhere along in that direction and +get back home before dark."</p> + +<p>There was one ecstatic moment for Georgina when +it was made clear to her that she was included in +that "we"; that she was actually to have a share in +an automobile chase like the ones that had thrilled +her in the movies. But that moment was soon over.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what to do about leaving Mother," +began Uncle Darcy in a troubled voice. "She's feeling +uncommon poorly to-day—she's in bed and can't +seem to remember anything longer than you're telling +it. Mrs. Saggs came in to sit with her while I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +was out blueberrying, but she said she couldn't stay +past ten o'clock. She has company coming."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you get some of the other neighbors to +come in for the few hours you'd be away?" asked +Mr. Milford. "It's important you should follow up +this clue yourself."</p> + +<p>"No, Mrs. Saggs is the only one who keeps +Mother from fretting when I'm away from her. +Her side window looks right into our front yard, and +ordinarily it would be enough just for her to call +across to her now and then, but it wouldn't do to-day, +Mother not being as well as common. She'd forget +where I was gone and I couldn't bear to have her +lying there frightened and worried and not remembering +why I had left her alone. She's like a child +at times. <i>You</i> know how it is," he said, turning to +Georgina. "Not flighty, but just needing to be +soothed and talked to."</p> + +<p>Georgina nodded. She knew, for on several occasions +she had sat beside Aunt Elspeth when she +was in such a mood, and had quieted and pleased +her with little songs and simple rhymes. She knew +she could do it again to-day as effectually as Mrs. +Saggs, if it wasn't for giving up that exciting motor +chase after the wild-cat woman. It seemed to her +a greater sacrifice than flesh and blood should be +called upon to make. She sat on the porch step, +twirling her prism carelessly on its pink ribbon while +she waited for the machine to be brought around.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Then she climbed into the back seat with Uncle Darcy +and the two pails of blueberries, while Richard settled +himself and Captain Kidd in front with his +Cousin James.</p> + +<p>They whirled up to the Gray Inn to leave the blueberries, +and then around down Bradford Street to +Fishburn Court to attempt to explain to Aunt Elspeth. +On the way they passed the Pilgrim monument. +Georgina tried not to look at it, but she +couldn't help glancing up at it from the corner of +her eye.</p> + +<p>"You must," it seemed to say to her.</p> + +<p>"I won't," she as silently answered back.</p> + +<p>"It's your duty," it reminded her, "and the idea of +a descendant of one of the Pilgrim Fathers and one +of the Minute-men shirking her duty. A pretty member +of the Rainbow Club <i>you</i> are," it scoffed.</p> + +<p>They whirled by the grim monster of a monument +quickly, but Georgina felt impelled to turn and look +back at it, her gaze following it up higher and higher, +above the gargoyles, to the tipmost stones which +seemed to touch the sky.</p> + +<p>"I hate that word Duty," she said savagely to +herself. "It's as big and ugly and as always-in-front-of-you +as that old monument. They're exactly alike. +You can't help seeing them no matter which way you +look or how hard you try not to."</p> + +<p>At the gate she tried to put the obnoxious word +out of her mind by leaning luxuriously back in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +car and looking up at the chimney tops while Uncle +Darcy stepped out and went into the house. He came +out again almost immediately, crossed the little front +yard and put his head in at Mrs. Saggs' side window. +After a short conversation with her he came +out to the gate and stood irresolutely fingering the +latch.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to do," he repeated, his voice +even more troubled than before. "Mother's asleep +now. Mrs. Saggs says she'll go over at twelve and +take her her tea, but—I can't help feeling I ought +not to leave her alone for so long. Couldn't you +manage without me?"</p> + +<p>And then, Georgina inwardly protesting, "I don't +want to and I won't," found herself stepping out of +the car, and heard her own voice saying sweetly:</p> + +<p>"I'll stay with Aunt Elspeth, Uncle Darcy. I can +keep her from fretting."</p> + +<p>A smile of relief broke over the old man's face +and he said heartily:</p> + +<p>"Why, of course you can, honey. It never occurred +to me to ask a little lass like you to stop and +care for her, but you can do it better than anybody +else, because Mother's so fond of you."</p> + +<p>Neither had it occurred to him or to either of the +others that it was a sacrifice for her to give up this +ride. There was not a word from anyone about its +being a noble thing for her to do. Mr. Milford, in +a hurry to be off, merely nodded his satisfaction at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +having the matter arranged so quickly. Uncle Darcy +stepped back to the window for a parting word with +Mrs. Saggs.</p> + +<p>"She'll keep an ear out for you, Georgina," he +said as he went back to the car. "Just call her if you +want her for any reason. There's plenty cooked in +the cupboard for your dinner, and Mrs. Saggs will +tend to Mother's tea when the time comes. When +she wakes up and asks for me best not tell her I'm +out of town. Just say I'll be back bye and bye, and +humor her along that way."</p> + +<p>And then they were off with a whirr and a clang +that sent the chickens in the road scattering in every +direction. Georgina was left standing by the gate +thinking, "What made me do it? What <i>made</i> me +do it? I don't want to stay one bit."</p> + +<p>The odor of gasoline cleared away and the usual +Sabbath-like stillness settled down over all the court. +She walked slowly across the shady little grass plot +to the front door, hesitated there a moment, then +went into the cottage and took off her hat.</p> + +<p>A glance into the dim bedroom beyond showed her +Aunt Elspeth's white head lying motionless on her +pillow. The sight of the quiet sleeper made her +feel appallingly lonesome. It was like being all by +herself in the house to be there with one who made +no sound or movement. She would have to find +something to do. It was only eleven o'clock. She +tiptoed out into the kitchen.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>The almanac had been left lying on the table. She +looked slowly through it, and was rewarded by finding +something of interest. On the last page was a +column of riddles, and one of them was so good she +started to memorize it so that she could propound it +to Richard. She was sure he never could guess it. +Finding it harder to remember than it seemed at first +glance, she decided to copy it. She did not know +where to look for a sheet of paper, but remembered +several paper bags on the pantry shelves, so she +went in search of one. Finding one with only a cupful +of sugar left in it, she tore off the top and wrote +the riddle on that with a stub of a pencil which she +found on the table.</p> + +<p>While searching for the bag she took an inventory +of the supplies in the pantry from which she was to +choose her dinner. When she had finished copying +the riddle she went back to them. There were baked +beans and blueberry pie, cold biscuit and a dish of +honey.</p> + +<p>"I'll get my dinner now," she decided, "then I'll +be ready to sit with Aunt Elspeth when her tea +comes."</p> + +<p>As Georgina went back and forth from table to +shelf it was in unconscious imitation of Mrs. Triplett's +brisk manner. Pattering after that capable +housekeeper on her busy rounds as persistently as +Georgina had done all her life, had taught her to +move in the same way. Presently she discovered that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +there was a fire laid in the little wood stove ready to +light. The stove was so small in comparison to the +big kitchen range at home, that it appealed to Georgina +as a toy stove might have done. She stood looking +at it thinking what fun it would be to cook something +on it all by herself with no Tippy standing by +to say do this or don't do the other.</p> + +<p>"I think I ought to be allowed to have some fun +to make up for my disappointment," she said to herself +as the temptation grew stronger and stronger.</p> + +<p>"I could cook me an egg. Tippy lets me beat them +but she never lets me break them and I've always +wanted to break one and let it go plunk into the +pan."</p> + +<p>She did not resist the temptation long. There was +the sputter of a match, the puff of a flame, and the +little stove was roaring away so effectively that one +of old Jeremy's sayings rose to her lips. Jeremy had +a proverb for everything.</p> + +<p>"Little pot, soon hot," she said out loud, gleefully, +and reached into the cupboard for the crock of bran +in which the eggs were kept. Then Georgina's skill +as an actor showed itself again, although she was not +conscious of imitating anyone. In Tippy's best manner +she wiped out the frying-pan, settled it in a hot +place on the stove, dropped in a bit of butter.</p> + +<p>With the assured air of one who has had long +practice, she picked up an egg and gave it a sharp +crack on the edge of the pan, expecting it to part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +evenly into halves and its contents to glide properly +into the butter. It looked so alluringly simple and +easy that she had always resented Tippy's saying +she would make a mess of it if she tried to do it. But +mess was the only name which could be given to what +poured out on the top of the stove as her fingers +went crashing through the shell and into the slimy +feeling contents. The broken yolk dripped from her +hands, and in the one instant she stood holding them +out from her in disgust, all the rest of the egg which +had gone sliding over the stove, cooked, scorched and +turned to a cinder.</p> + +<p>The smell and smoke of the burning egg rose to +the ceiling and filled the room. Georgina sprang to +close the door so that the odor would not rouse Aunt +Elspeth, and then with carving knife and stove-lid +lifter, she scraped the charred remains into the fire.</p> + +<p>"And it looked <i>so</i> easy," she mourned. "Maybe I +didn't whack it quickly enough. I'm going to try +again." She felt into the bran for another egg. This +time she struck the shell so hard that its contents +splashed out sideways with an unexpected squirt and +slid to the floor. She was ready to cry as she wiped +up the slippery stuff, but there came to her mind some +verses which Tippy had taught her long ago. And +so determined had Tippy been for her to learn them, +that she offered the inducement of a string of blue +beads. The name of the poem was "Perseverance," +and it began:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Here's a lesson all should heed——<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;">Try, try again.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">If at first you don't succeed,</span></i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;"><i>Try, try again.</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>and it ended,</div> + +<div class='poem'> + "<i>That which other folks can do<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Why with patience may not you?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 13em;">Try, try again.</span></i>" +</div> + +<p>Tippy sowed that seed the same winter that she +taught Georgina "The Landing of the Pilgrims"; but +surely, no matter how long a time since then, Tippy +should be held accountable for the after effects of +that planting. If Georgina persevered it was no +more than could be expected considering her rigorous +up-bringing.</p> + +<p>Georgina pushed the frying-pan to the back of the +stove where it was cooler, and with her red lips +pursed into a tight line, chose another egg, smote it +sharply on the edge of the pan, thereby cracking it +and breaking the shell into halves. Her thumbs +punched through into the yolk of this one also, but +by letting part of the shell drop with it, she managed +to land it all in the pan. That was better. She fished +out the fragment of shell and took another egg.</p> + +<p>This time the feat was accomplished as deftly as +an expert chef could have done it, and a pleased smile<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +took the place of the grim determination on Georgina's +face. Elated by her success she broke another +egg, then another and another. It was as easy as +breathing or winking. She broke another for the +pure joy of putting her dexterity to the test once +more. Then she stopped, appalled by the pile of +empty shells confronting her accusingly. She counted +them. She had broken eight—three-fourths of a setting. +What would Uncle Darcy say to such a wicked +waste? She could burn the shells, but what an awful +lot of insides to dispose of. All mixed up as they +were, they couldn't be saved for cake. There was +nothing to do but to scramble them.</p> + +<p>Scramble them she did, and the pan seemed to +grow fuller and fuller as she tossed the fluffy mass +about with a fork. It was fun doing that. She made +the most of this short space of time, and it was over +all too soon. She knew that Aunt Elspeth had grown +tired of eggs early in the summer. There was no +use saving any for her. Georgina herself was not +especially fond of them, but she would have to eat +all she could to keep them from being wasted.</p> + +<p>Some time after she rose from the table and looked +at the dish with a feeling of disgust that there could +still be such a quantity left, after she had eaten so +much that it was impossible to enjoy even a taste +of the blueberry pie or the honey. Carrying the dish +out through the back door she emptied it into the +cats' pan, fervently wishing that John and Mary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +Darcy and old Yellownose could dispose of it all +without being made ill.</p> + +<p>Long ago she had learned to do her sums in the +sand. Now she stooped down and with the handle +of her spoon scratched some figures in the path. "If +twelve eggs cost thirty cents, how much will eight +eggs cost?" That was the sum she set for herself. +Only that morning she had heard Tippy inquire +the price of eggs from the butter-woman, and say +they were unusually high and hard to get because +they were so many summer people in town this season. +She didn't know where they were going to get +enough for all the cakes necessary for the Bazaar.</p> + +<p>It took Georgina some time to solve the problem. +Then going back to the kitchen she gathered up all +the shells and dropped them into the fire. Her sacrifice +was costing her far more than she had anticipated. +Somehow, somewhere, she must get hold of +twenty cents to pay for those eggs. Duty again. +<i>Always</i> Duty. But for that one horrid word she +would be racing down the road to Brewster in the +wake of the wild-cat woman. She wondered if they +had caught up with her yet.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/i005.png" width="200" height="104" alt="handbell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>DANCE OF THE RAINBOW FAIRIES</div> + + +<div class='cap'>GEORGINA, intent on washing the frying-pan +and cleaning the last vestige of burnt egg from +the top of the stove, did not hear Mrs. Saggs come +in at the front door with Aunt Elspeth's dinner on a +tray. Nor did she hear the murmur of voices that +went on while it was being eaten. The bedroom was +in the front of the house, and the rasping noise she +was making as she scratched away with the edge of +an iron spoon, kept her from hearing anything else. +So when the door into the kitchen suddenly opened it +gave her such a start that she dropped the dishcloth +into the woodbox.</div> + +<p>Mrs. Saggs sniffed suspiciously. There was something +reproachful in the mere tilt of her nose which +Georgina felt and resented.</p> + +<p>"I thought I smelled something burning."</p> + +<p>"I s'pect you did," Georgina answered calmly. +"But it's all over now. I was getting my dinner +early, so's I could sit with Aunt Elspeth afterward."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Saggs had both hands full, as she was carrying +her tray, so she could not open the stove to look +in; but she walked over towards it and peered at it +from a closer viewpoint, continuing to sniff. But +there was nothing for her to discover, no clue to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +smell. Everything which Georgina had used was +washed and back in place now. The sharp eyes +made a survey of the kitchen, watching Georgina +narrowly as the child, having rinsed the dishcloth +after its fall, leaned out of the back door to hang +it on a bush in the sun, as Uncle Darcy always did.</p> + +<p>"You've been taught to be real neat, haven't you?" +she said in an approving tone which made Georgina +like her better. Then her glance fell on a work-basket +which had been left sitting on top of the flour +barrel. In it was a piece of half-finished mending. +The sharp eyes softened.</p> + +<p>"I declare!" she exclaimed. "It's downright pitiful +the way that old man tries to do for himself and +his poor old wife. It's surprising, though, how well +he gets along with the housework and taking care of +her and all."</p> + +<p>She glanced again at the needle left sticking in the +clumsy unfinished seam, and recognized the garment.</p> + +<p>"Well, I wish you'd look at that! Even trying +to patch her poor old nightgown for her! Can you +beat that? Here, child, give it to me. My hands +are full with this tray, so just stick it under my arm. +I'll mend it this afternoon while I'm setting talking +to the company."</p> + +<p>She tightened her grip on the bundle which Georgina +thrust under her arm, and looked down at it.</p> + +<p>"Them pitiful old stiff fingers of his'n!" she exclaimed. +"They sure make a botch of sewing, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +they don't ever make a botch of being kind. Well, +I'm off now. Guess you'd better run in and set with +Mis' Darcy for a spell, for she's waked up real natural +and knowing now, and seems to crave company."</p> + +<p>Georgina went, but paused on the way, seeing +the familiar rooms in a new light, since Mrs. Saggs' +remarks had given her new and illuminating insight. +Everywhere she looked there was something as eloquent +as that bit of unfinished mending to bear witness +that Uncle Darcy was far more than just a +weather-beaten old man with a smile and word of +cheer for everybody. Ringing the Towncrier's bell +and fishing and blueberrying and telling yarns and +helping everybody bear their trouble was the least +part of his doings. That was only what the world +saw. That was all she had seen herself until this +moment.</p> + +<p>Now she was suddenly aware of his bigness of soul +which made him capable of an infinite tenderness and +capacity to serve. His devotion to Aunt Elspeth +spread an encircling care around her as a great oak +throws the arms of its shade, till her comfort was his +constant thought, her happiness his greatest desire.</p> + +<p>"Them pitiful, old, stiff fingers of his'n!" How +could Mrs. Saggs speak of them so? They were +heroic, effectual fingers. Theirs was something far +greater than the Midas touch—they transmuted the +smallest service into Love's gold.</p> + +<p>Georgina, with her long stretching up to books that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +were "over her head," understood this without being +able to put it into words. Nor could she put into +words the longing which seized her like a dull ache, +for <i>Barby</i> to be loved and cared for like that, to be +as constantly and supremely considered. She +couldn't understand how Aunt Elspeth, old and +wrinkled and childish, could be the object of such +wonderful devotion, and Barby, her adorable, winsome +Barby, call forth less.</p> + +<p>"Not one letter in four long months," she thought +bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Dan'l," called Aunt Elspeth feebly from the next +room, and Georgina went in to assure her that Uncle +Darcy was <i>not</i> out in the boat and would not be +brought home drowned. He was attending to some +important business and would be back bye and bye. +In the meantime, she was going to hang her prism +in the window where the sun could touch it and let the +rainbow fairies dance over the bed.</p> + +<p>The gay flashes of color, darting like elfin wings +here and there as Georgina twisted the ribbon, +pleased Aunt Elspeth as if she were a child. She +lifted a thin, shriveled hand to catch at them and +gave a weak little laugh each time they eluded her +grasp. It was such a thin hand, almost transparent, +with thick, purplish veins standing out on it. +Georgina glanced at her own and wondered if Aunt +Elspeth's ever could have been dimpled and soft like +hers. It did not seem possible that this frail old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +woman with the snowy-white hair and sunken cheeks +could ever have been a rosy child like herself. As +if in answer to her thought, Aunt Elspeth spoke, +groping again with weak, ineffectual passes after the +rainbows.</p> + +<p>"I can't catch them. They bob around so. That's +the way I used to be, always on the move. They +called me 'Bouncing Bet!'"</p> + +<p>"Tell me about that time," urged Georgina. Back +among early memories Aunt Elspeth's mind walked +with firm, unfailing tread. It was only among those +of later years that she hesitated and groped her way +as if lost in fog. By the time the clock had struck +the hours twice more Georgina felt that she knew intimately +a mischievous girl whom her family called +Bouncing Bet for her wild ways, but who bore no +trace of a resemblance to the feeble old creature who +recounted her pranks.</p> + +<p>And the blue-eyed romp who could sail a boat like +a boy or swim like a mackerel grew up into a slender +slip of a lass with a shy grace which made one think +of a wild-flower. At least that is what the old +daguerreotype showed Georgina when Aunt Elspeth +sent her rummaging through a trunk to find it. +It was taken in a white dress standing beside a young +sailor in his uniform. No wonder Uncle Darcy +looked proud in the picture. But Georgina never +would have known it was Uncle Darcy if she hadn't +been told. He had changed, too.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>The picture <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'make'">made</ins> Georgina think of one of Barby's +songs, and presently when Aunt Elspeth was +tired of talking she sang it to her:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Hand in hand when our life was May.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hand in hand when our hair is gray.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Sorrow and sun for everyone</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">As the years roll on.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hand in hand when the long night tide</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Gently covers us side by side——</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Ah, lad, though we know not when,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Love will be with us forever then.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Always the same, Darby my own,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Always the same to your old wife Joan!"</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>After that there were other songs which Aunt Elspeth +asked for, "Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast," +and "Robin Adair." Then came a long tiresome +pause when Georgina didn't know what to do next, +and Aunt Elspeth turned her head restlessly on the +pillow and seemed uneasy.</p> + +<p>Georgina wished with all her heart she was out +of the stuffy little bedroom. If she had gone with +the others, she would be speeding along the smooth, +white road now, coming home from Brewster, with +the wind and sunshine of all the wide, free outdoors +around her.</p> + +<p>Aunt Elspeth drew a long, tired sigh.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Maybe you'd like me to read to you," ventured +Georgina. She hesitated over making such an offer, +because there were so few books in the house. Nothing +but the almanac looked interesting. Aunt Elspeth +assented, and pointed out a worn little volume +of devotions on top of the bureau, saying:</p> + +<p>"That's what Dan'l reads me on Sundays."</p> + +<p>Georgina opened it. Evidently it had been compiled +for the use of sea-faring people, for it was full +of the promises that sailor-folk best understand; +none of the shepherd psalms or talk of green pastures +and help-giving hills. It was all about mighty +waters and paths through the deep. She settled herself +comfortably in the low rocking-chair beside the +bed, tossed back her curls and was about to begin, +when one of the rainbow lights from the prism +danced across the page. She waited, smiling, until it +glimmered away. Then she read the verses on which +it had shone.</p> + +<p>"<i>All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me, +yet the Lord will command His loving kindness in the +daytime, and in the night His song shall be with me.</i>"</p> + +<p>The sweet little voice soothed the troubled spirit +that listened like music.</p> + +<p>"<i>When thou passeth through the waters I will be +with thee, and through the rivers: they shall not overflow +thee.... Thus saith the Lord which maketh +a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters.</i>"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>Aunt Elspeth reached out a groping hand for +Georgina's and took the soft little fingers in hers. +Georgina didn't want to have her hand held, especially +in such a stiff, bony clasp. It made her uncomfortable +to sit with her arm stretched up in such a +position, but she was too polite to withdraw it, so she +read on for several pages.</p> + +<p>"<i>He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves +thereof are still. So He bringeth them into their desired +haven.</i>"</p> + +<p>Attracted by the sound of heavy breathing, she +looked up. Aunt Elspeth was asleep. Georgina +laid the book on the table, and slowly, very slowly +began to raise herself out of the chair, afraid of +arousing the sleeper who still held her hand. As she +stood up, the board in the floor under her squeaked. +She was afraid to take another step or to try to pull +her hand away. She had come to the end of her resources +for entertainment, and she was afraid Aunt +Elspeth's next awakening might be to a crying, restless +mood which she could not control. So she sat +down again.</p> + +<p>It was very still in the bedroom. A fly buzzed +on the outside of the window screen, and away off +on another street the "accommodation" was going +by. She could hear the bells jingling on the horses. +As she sat thus, not even rocking, but just jiggling +the chair a trifle, the words she had read began to +come back to her after a while like a refrain: "So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +He bringeth them into their desired haven. So He +bringeth them into their desired haven." She whispered +them over and over as she often whispered +songs, hearing the music which had no tone except in +her thought.</p> + +<p>And presently, as the whispered song repeated itself, +the words began to bring a wonderful sense of +peace and security. She did not realize what it was +that was speaking to her through them. It was the +faith which had lived so long in these lowly little +rooms. It was the faith which had upborne Uncle +Darcy year after year, helping him to steer onward +in the confidence that the Hand he trusted would +fulfil all its promises. She felt the subtle influence +that goes out from such lives, without knowing what +it was that touched her. She was conscious of it +only as she was conscious of the nearness of mignonette +when its fragrance stole in from the flower-bed +under the window. They were both unseen but the +mignonette's fragrance was wonderfully sweet, and +the feeling of confidence, breathing through the +words of the old psalm was wonderfully strong. +Some day she, too, would be brought, and Barby +would be brought into "their desired haven."</p> + +<p>Georgina was tired. It had been a full day, beginning +with that digging in the dunes. Presently +she began to nod. Then the rocking chair ceased to +sway. When the clock struck again she did not hear +it. She was sound asleep with her hand still clasped +in Aunt Elspeth's.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>ON THE TRAIL OF THE WILD-CAT WOMAN</div> + + +<div class='cap'>MEANWHILE, the pursuing party had made the +trip to Brewster and were on their way home. +At the various small towns where they stopped to +ask questions, they found that the patent-medicine +vendors had invariably followed one course. They +had taken supper at the hotel, but after each evening's +performance had driven into the country a +little way to camp for the night in the open. At +Orleans an acquaintance of Mr. Milford's in a feed +store had much to say about them.</div> + +<p>"I don't know whether they camp out of consideration +for the wild-cat, or whether it's because they're +attached to that rovin', gypsy life. They're good +spenders, and from the way they sold their liniment +here last night, you'd think they could afford to put +up at a hotel all the time and take a room for the +cat in the bargain. You needn't tell me that beast +ever saw the banks of the Brazos. I'll bet they +caught it up in the Maine woods some'rs. But they +seem such honest, straightforward sort of folks, +somehow you have to believe 'em. They're a friendly +pair, too, specially the old lady. Seems funny to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +hear you speak of her as the wild-cat woman. That +name is sure a misfit for her."</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford thought so himself, when a little later +he came across her, a mile out of Brewster. She was +sitting in the wooden rocking chair in one end of the +wagon, placidly darning a pair of socks, while she +waited for her husband to bring the horses from some +place up in the woods where he had taken them for +water. They had been staked by the roadside all +night to graze. The wild-cat was blinking drowsily +in its cage, having just been fed.</p> + +<p>Some charred sticks and a little pile of ashes by +the roadside, showed where she had cooked dinner +over a camp-fire, but the embers were carefully extinguished +and the frying pan and dishes were stowed +out of sight in some mysterious compartment under +the wagon bed, as compactly as if they had been +parts of a Chinese puzzle. Long experience on the +road had taught her how to pack with ease and dexterity.</p> + +<p>She looked up with interest as the automobile drew +out of the road, and stopped alongside the wagon. +She was used to purchasers following them out of +town for the liniment after a successful show like +last night's performance.</p> + +<p>Despite the feedman's description of her, Mr. +Milford had expected to see some sort of an adventuress +such as one naturally associates with such a +business, and when he saw the placid old lady with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +the smooth, gray hair, and met the gaze of the +motherly eyes peering over her spectacles at him, he +scarcely knew how to begin. Uncle Darcy, growing +impatient at the time consumed in politely leading +up to the object of their coming, fidgetted in his seat. +At last he could wait no longer for remarks about +weather and wild-cats. Such conversational paths led +nowhere. He interrupted abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I'm the Towncrier from Provincetown, ma'am. +Did you lose anything while you were there?"</p> + +<p>"Well, now," she began slowly. "I can't say +where I lost it. I didn't think it was in Provincetown +though. I made sure it was some place between Harwichport +and Orleans, and I had my man post notices +in both those places."</p> + +<p>"And what was it you lost?" inquired Mr. Milford +politely. He had cautioned his old friend on +the way down at intervals of every few miles, not to +build his hopes up too much on finding that this +woman was the owner of the pouch.</p> + +<p>"You may have to follow a hundred different clues +before you get hold of the right one," he warned +him. "We're taking this trip on the mere chance that +we'll find the owner, just because two children associated +the pouch in their memory with the odor of +liniment. It is more than likely they're mistaken +and that this is all a wild-goose chase."</p> + +<p>But Uncle Darcy <i>had</i> built his hopes on it, had set +his heart on finding this was the right clue, and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +beaming face said, "I told you so," when she answered:</p> + +<p>"It was a little tobacco pouch, and I'm dreadfully +put out over losing it, because aside from the valuables +and keep-sakes in it there was a letter that's +been following me all over the country. It didn't +reach me till just before I got to Provincetown. It's +from some heathen country with such an outlandish +name I couldn't remember it while I was reading it, +scarcely, and now I'll never think of it again while +the world wags, and there's no way for me to answer +it unless I do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't say that!" exclaimed Uncle Darcy. +"You <i>must</i> think of it. And I <i>must</i> know. How did +this come into your hands?"</p> + +<p>He held out the little watch-fob charm, the compass +set in a nut and she seized it eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Well, you did find my pouch, didn't you?" she +exclaimed. "I made sure that was what you were +aiming to tell me. That's a good-luck charm. It +was given to me as much as eight years ago, by a +young fellow who was taken sick on our ranch down +in Texas. He'd been working around the docks in +Galveston, but came on inland because somebody +roped him in to believe he could make a fortune in +cattle in a few months. He was riding fences for +Henry, and he came down with a fever and Henry +and me nursed him through."</p> + +<p>Always talkative, she poured out her information<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +now in a stream, drawn on by the compelling eagerness +of the old man's gaze.</p> + +<p>"He was a nice boy and the most grateful soul +you ever saw. But he didn't take to the cattle business, +and he soon pushed on. He was all broke up +when it came to saying good-bye. You could see +that, although he's one of your quiet kind, hiding his +real feelings like an Indian. He gave me this good-luck +charm when he left, because he didn't have anything +else to give, to show he appreciated our nursing +him and doing for him, and he said that he'd +<i>make</i> it bring us good luck or die a-trying and we'd +hear from him some of these days."</p> + +<p>"And you did?"</p> + +<p>The old man's face was twitching with eagerness +as he asked the question.</p> + +<p>"Yes, about five years ago he sent us a nice little +check at Christmas. Said he had a good job with +a wealthy Englishman who spent his time going +around the world discovering queer plants and writing +books about them. He was in South America +then. We've heard from him several times since. +This last letter followed me around from pillar to +post, always just missing me and having to have the +address scratched out and written over till you could +hardly make head or tail of what was on it.</p> + +<p>"He asked me to write to the address he gave me, +but whether it was in 'Afric's sunny fountain or India's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +coral strand,' I can't tell now. It was some +heathenish 'land in error's chain,' as the missionary +hymn says. I was so worried over losing the letter +on account of the address, for he did seem so bent +on hearing from us, and he's a nice boy. I'd hate +to <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'loose'">lose</ins> track of him. So I'm mighty thankful you +found the pouch."</p> + +<p>She stopped, expecting them to hand it over. +Mr. Milford made the necessary explanation. +He told of Captain Kidd finding it and bringing +it home, of the two children burying it in +play and the storm sweeping away every trace of the +markers. While he told the story several automobiles +passed them and the occupants leaned out to +look at the strange group beside the road. It was +not every day one could see an old lady seated in a +rocking chair in one end of an unattached wagon +with a wild-cat in the other. These passing tourists +would have thought it stranger still, could they have +known how fate had been tangling the life threads of +these people who were in such earnest conversation, +or how it had wound them together into a queer skein +of happenings.</p> + +<p>"And the only reason this compass was saved," +concluded Mr. Milford, "was because it had the +initials 'D. D.' scratched on it, which stands for this +little boy's name when he plays pirate—Dare-devil +Dick."</p> + +<p>The motherly eyes smiled on Richard. "If you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +want to know the real name those letters stand for," +she said, "it's Dave Daniels. That's the name of the +boy who gave it to me."</p> + +<p>Richard looked alarmed, and even Mr. Milford +turned with a questioning glance towards Uncle +Darcy, about to say something, when the old man +leaned past him and spoke quickly, almost defiantly, +as a child might have done.</p> + +<p>"That's all right. I don't care what he told you +his name was. He had a good reason for changing +it. And I'm going to tell you this much no matter +what I promised. <i>I</i> scratched those initials on there +my own self, over forty years ago. And the boy +who gave it to you <i>is</i> named Daniel, but it's his first +name, same as mine. Dan'l Darcy. And the boy's +mine, and I've been hunting him for ten long years, +and I've faith to believe that the good Lord isn't +going to disappoint me now that I'm this near the end +of my hunt. He had a good reason for going away +from home the way he did. He'd a good reason for +changing his name as he did, but the time has come +now when it's all right for him to come back and," +shaking his finger solemnly and impressively at the +woman, "<i>I want you to get that word back to him +without fail</i>."</p> + +<p>"But this is only circumstantial evidence, Uncle +Dan'l," said Mr. Milford, soothingly. "You haven't +any real proof that this Dave is your Danny."</p> + +<p>"Proof, proof," was the excited answer. "I tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +you, man, I've all the proof I need. All I ask for +is the address in that letter. I'll find my boy quick +enough."</p> + +<p>"But I don't know," was all the woman could +answer. "The only way in the world to find it is to +dig up that pouch."</p> + +<p>"But even if you can't remember the new address +tell me one of the old ones," he pleaded. "I'll +take a chance on writing there and having it forwarded."</p> + +<p>But the woman could not recall the name of a single +city. South America, Australia, New Zealand, +she remembered he had been in those countries, but +that was all. Richard, upon being cross-questioned +again, "b'leeved" the stamp was from Siam or China +but couldn't be certain which.</p> + +<p>"Here comes Henry!" exclaimed the woman in a +relieved tone. "Maybe he'll remember."</p> + +<p>Henry, a tall, raw-boned man with iron-gray hair +under his Texas sombrero, in his shirt sleeves and +with his after-dinner pipe still in his mouth, came +leisurely out of the woods, leading the horses. They +were already harnessed, ready to be hitched to the +wagon. He backed them up to the tongue and +snapped the chains in place before he paused to give +the strangers more than a passing nod of greeting. +Then he came around to the side of the wagon nearest +the machine, and putting one foot up on a spoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +of his front wheel, leaned over in a listening attitude, +while the whole story was repeated for his benefit.</p> + +<p>"So you're his father," he said musingly, looking +at Uncle Darcy with shrewd eyes that were used to +appraising strangers.</p> + +<p>"Who ever would a thought of coming across +Dave Daniels' tracks up here on old Cape Cod? +You look like him though. I bet at his age you were +as much alike as two peas in a pod. I never did +know where he hailed from. He was a close-mouthed +chap. But I somehow got the idea he must +have been brought up near salt water. He talked so +much sailor lingo."</p> + +<p>"Put on your thinking-cap, Henry," demanded his +wife. "The gentlemen wants to know where that +last letter was written from, what the postmark was, +or the address inside, or what country the stamp belonged +to. And if you don't know that, what are +some of the other places he wrote to us from?"</p> + +<p>"You're barking up the wrong tree when you ask +<i>me</i> any such questions," was the only answer he could +give. "I didn't pay any attention to anything but +the reading matter."</p> + +<p>Questions, surmises, suggestions, everything that +could be brought up as aids to memory were of no +avail. Henry's memory was a blank in that one important +particular. Finally, Mr. Milford took two +five-dollar gold pieces out of his pocket and a handful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +of small change which he dropped into the woman's +lap despite her protests.</p> + +<p>"We'll square up the damage the children did as +far as possible," he said with a laugh. "But we can't +get the letter back until the wind is ready to turn the +dunes topsy-turvy again. That may be in years and +it may be never. Let me have your address and if +ever it is found it shall be sent directly back to you, +and the children can inherit the money if I'm not +here to claim it."</p> + +<p>The man made a wry face at mention of his address. +"We sort of belong to what they call the +floating population now. Home with us means any +old place where Mother happens to set her rocking +chair. We've turned the ranch over to my daughter +and her husband while we see something of the +world, and as long as things go as smoothly as they +do, we're in no great shakes of a hurry to get back."</p> + +<p>"But the ranch address will always find us, +Henry," she insisted. "Write it down for the gentlemen. +Ain't this been a strange happening?" she +commented, as she received Mr. Milford's card in +return with the Towncrier's name penciled on the +back. She looked searchingly at Richard.</p> + +<p>"I remember you, now," she said. "There was +such a pretty little girl with you—climbed up on the +wagon to touch Tim's tail through the bars. She +had long curls and a smile that made me want to +hug her. She bought a bottle of liniment, I remember,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +and I've thought of her a dozen times since +then, thought how a little face like that brightens up +all the world around it."</p> + +<p>"That was Georgina Huntingdon," volunteered +Richard.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, that's a pretty name. Write it down +on the other side of this piece of paper, sonny, and +yours, too. Then when I go about the country I'll +know what to call you when I think about you. This +is just like a story. If there was somebody who +knew how to write it up 'twould make a good piece +for the papers, wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>They were ready to start back now, since there +was no more information to be had, but on one pretext +or another Uncle Darcy delayed. He was so +pitifully eager for more news of Danny. The smallest +crumb about the way he looked, what he did and +said was seized upon hungrily, although it was news +eight years old. And he begged to hear once more +just what it was Danny had said about the Englishman, +and the work they were doing together. He +could have sat there the rest of the day listening to +her repeat the same things over and over if he had +had his wish. Then she asked a question.</p> + +<p>"Who is Belle? I mind when he was out of his +head so long with the fever he kept saying, '<i>Belle</i> +mustn't suffer. No matter what happens <i>Belle</i> must +be spared.' I remembered because that's my name, +and hearing it called out in the dead of night the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +way a man crazy with fever would call it, naturally +makes you recollect it."</p> + +<p>"That was just a friend of his," answered Uncle +Darcy, "the girl who was going to marry his chum."</p> + +<p>"Oh," was the answer in a tone which seemed to +convey a shade of <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'disappontment'">disappointment</ins>. "I thought +maybe——"</p> + +<p>She did not finish the sentence, for the engine had +begun to shake noisily, and it seemed to distract her +thoughts. And now there being really nothing more +to give them an excuse for lingering they said good-bye +to their wayside acquaintances, feeling that they +were parting from two old friends, so cordial were +the good wishes which accompanied the leave-taking.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/i002.png" width="400" height="176" alt="Girl in prow of rowboat" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE RAINBOW GAME</div> + + +<div class='cap'>WITH her arm stiff and cramped from being +held so long in one position, Georgina waked +suddenly and looked around her in bewilderment. +Uncle Darcy was in the room, saying something +about her riding home in the machine. He didn't +want to hurry her off, but Mr. Milford was waiting +at the gate, and it would save her a long walk +home——</div> + +<p>While he talked he was leaning over Aunt Elspeth, +patting her cheek, and she was clinging to his hand +and smiling up at him as if he had just been restored +to her after a long, long absence, instead of a separation +of only a few hours. And he looked so glad +about something, as if the nicest thing in the world +had happened, that Georgina rubbed her eyes and +stared at him, wondering what it could have been.</p> + +<p>Evidently, it was the honk of the horn which had +aroused Georgina, and when it sounded again she +sprang up, still confused by the suddenness of her +awakening, with only one thing clear in her mind, the +necessity for haste. She snatched her prism from +the window and caught up her hat as she ran through +the next room, but not until she was half-way home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +did she remember that she had said nothing about +the eggs and had asked no questions about the trip +to Brewster. She had not even said good-bye.</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford nodded pleasantly when she went +out to the car, saying, "Hop in, kiddie," but he did +not turn around after they started and she did not +feel well enough acquainted with him to shout out +questions behind his back. Besides, after they had +gone a couple of blocks he began explaining something +to Richard, who was sitting up in front of +him, about the workings of the car, and kept on explaining +all the rest of the way home. She couldn't +interrupt.</p> + +<p>Not until she climbed out in front of her own gate +with a shy "Thank you, Mr. Milford, for bringing +me home," did she find courage and opportunity to +ask the question she longed to know.</p> + +<p>"Did you find the woman? <i>Was</i> it her pouch?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford was leaning forward in his seat to +examine something that had to do with the shifting +of the gears, and he answered while he investigated, +without looking up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but she couldn't remember where the letter +was from, so we're not much wiser than we were before, +except that we know for a certainty that Dan +was alive and well less than two months ago. At +least Uncle Dan'l believes it is Dan. The woman +calls him Dave, but Uncle Dan'l vows they're one +and the same."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Having adjusted the difficulty, Mr. Milford, with +a good-bye nod to Georgina, started on down the +street again. Georgina stood looking after the rapidly +disappearing car.</p> + +<p>"Well, no wonder Uncle Darcy looked so happy," +she thought, recalling his radiant face. "It was +knowing that Danny is alive and well that made it +shine so. I wish I'd been along. Wish I could have +heard every thing each one of them said. I could +have remembered every single word to tell Richard, +but he won't remember even half to tell me."</p> + +<p>It was in the pursuit of all the information which +could be pumped out of Richard that Georgina +sought the Green Stairs soon after breakfast next +morning. Incidentally, she was on her way to a +nearby grocery and had been told to hurry. She +ran all the way down in order to gain a few extra +moments in which to loiter. As usual at this time +of morning, Richard was romping over the terraces +with Captain Kidd.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Georgina," he called, as he spied her coming. +"I've got a new game. A new way to play +tag. Look."</p> + +<p>Plunging down the steps he held out for her inspection +a crystal paperweight which he had picked +up from the library table. Its round surface had been +cut into many facets, as a diamond is cut to make it +flash the light, and the spots of color it threw as he +turned it in the sun were rainbow-hued.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"See," he explained. "Instead of tagging Captain +Kidd with my hand I touch him with a rainbow, +and it's lots harder to do because you can't always +make it light where you want it to go, or where you +think it is going to fall. I've only tagged him twice +so far in all the time I've been trying, because he +bobs around so fast. Come on, I'll get you before +you tag me," he added, seeing that her prism hung +from the ribbon on her neck.</p> + +<p>She did not wear it every day, but she had felt an +especial need for its comforting this morning, and +had put it on as she slowly dressed. The difficulty +of restoring the eggs loomed up in front of her as a +real trouble, and she needed this to remind her to +keep on hoping that some way would soon turn up +to end it.</p> + +<p>It was a fascinating game. Such tags are elusive, +uncertain things. The pursuer can never be certain +of touching the pursued. Georgina entered into it, +alert and glowing, darting this way and that to escape +being touched by the spots of vivid color. Her +prism threw it in bars, Richard's in tiny squares and +triangles.</p> + +<p>"Let's make them fight!" Richard exclaimed in +the midst of it, and for a few moments the color +spots flashed across each other like flocks of darting +birds. Suddenly Georgina stopped, saying:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I forgot. I'm on my way to the grocery, and +I must hurry back. But I wanted to ask you two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +things. One was, tell me all about what the woman +said yesterday, and the other was, think of some way +for me to earn twenty cents. There isn't time to +hear about the first one now, but think right quick +and answer the second question."</p> + +<p>She started down the street, skipping backwards +slowly, and Richard walked after her.</p> + +<p>"Aw, I don't know," he answered in a vague way. +"At home when we wanted to make money we always +gave a show and charged a penny to get in, or +we kept a lemonade stand; but we don't know enough +kids here to make that pay."</p> + +<p>Then he looked out over the water and made a +suggestion at random. A boy going along the beach +towards one of the summer cottages with a pail in +his hand, made him think of it.</p> + +<p>"Pick blueberries and sell them."</p> + +<p>"I thought of that," answered Georgina, still +progressing towards the grocery backward. "And +it would be a good time now to slip away while Tippy's +busy with the Bazaar. This is the third day. +But they've done so well they're going to keep on with +it another day, and they've thought up a lot of new +things to-morrow to draw a crowd. One of them +is a kind of talking tableau. I'm to be in it, so it +wouldn't do for me to go and get my hands all stained +with berries when I'm to be dressed up as a part of +the show for the whole town to come and take a look +at me."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>Richard had no more suggestions to offer, so with +one more flash of the prism and a cry of "last tag," +Georgina turned and started on a run to the grocery. +Richard and the paperweight followed in hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>Up at one of the front windows of the bungalow, +two interested spectators had been watching the game +below. One was Richard's father, the other was a +new guest of Mr. Milford's who had arrived only +the night before. He was the Mr. Locke who was +to take Richard and his father and Cousin James +away on his yacht next morning. He was also a +famous illustrator of juvenile books, and he sometimes +wrote the rhymes and fairy tales himself which +he illustrated. Everybody in this town of artists who +knew anything at all of the world of books and pictures +outside, knew of Milford Norris Locke. Now +as he watched the graceful passes of the two children +darting back and forth on the board-walk below, he +asked:</p> + +<p>"Who's the little girl, Moreland? She's the child +of my dreams—the very one I've been hunting for +weeks. She has not only the sparkle and spirit that +I want to put into those pictures I was telling you +about, but the grace and the curls and the mischievous +eyes as well. Reckon I could get her to pose for +me?"</p> + +<p>That is how it came about that Georgina found +Richard's father waiting for her at the foot of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +Green Stairs when she came running back from the +grocery. When she went home a few minutes later, +she carried with her something more than the cake +of sweet chocolate that Tippy had sent her for in +such a hurry. It was the flattering knowledge that +a famous illustrator had asked to make a sketch of +her which would be published in a book if it turned +out to be a good one.</p> + +<p>With a sailing party and a studio reception and +several other engagements to fill up his one day in +Provincetown, Mr. Locke could give only a part of +the morning to the sketches, and wanted to begin as +soon as possible. So a few minutes after Georgina +went dancing in with the news, he followed in Mr. +Milford's machine. He arrived so soon after, in +fact, that Tippy had to receive him just as she was +in her gingham house dress and apron.</p> + +<p>After looking all over the place he took Georgina +down to the garden and posed her on a stone +bench near the sun-dial, at the end of a tall, bright +aisle of hollyhocks. There was no time to waste.</p> + +<p>"We'll pretend you're sitting on the stone rim of +a great fountain in the King's garden," he said. +"You're trying to find some trace of the beautiful +Princess who has been bewitched and carried away +to a castle under the sea, that had 'a ceiling of +amber, a pavement of pearl.'"</p> + +<p>Georgina looked up, delighted that he had used<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +a line from a poem she loved. It made her feel as +if he were an old friend.</p> + +<p>"This is for a fairy tale that has just begun to +hatch itself out in my mind, so you see it isn't all +quite clear yet. There'll be lily pads in the fountain. +Maybe you can hear what they are saying, or maybe +the gold-fish will bring you a message, because you +are a little mortal who has such a kind heart that +you have been given the power to understand the +speech of everything which creeps or swims or flies."</p> + +<p>Georgina leaned over and looked into the imaginary +fountain dubiously, forgetting in her interest +of the moment that her companion was the great Milford +Norris Locke. She was entering with him into +the spirit of his game of "pretend" as if he were +Richard.</p> + +<p>"No, I'll tell you," she suggested. "Have it a +frog instead of a fish that brings the message. He +can jump right out of that lily pad on to the edge +of the fountain where I am sitting, and then when +you look at the picture you can see us talking together. +No one could tell what I was doing if they +saw me just looking down into the fountain, but they +could tell right away if the frog was here and I was +shaking my finger at him as if I were saying:</p> + +<p>"'Now tell me the truth, Mr. Frog, or the Ogre +of the Oozy Marsh shall eat you ere the day be +done.'"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't move. Don't move!" called Mr. Locke, +excitedly. "Ah, that's perfect. That's exactly what +I want. Hold that pose for a moment or two. Why, +Georgina, you've given me exactly what I wanted and +a splendid idea besides. It will give the fairy tale an +entirely new turn. If you can only hold that position +a bit longer, then you may rest."</p> + +<p>His pencil flew with magical rapidity and as he +sketched he kept on talking in order to hold the look +of intense interest which showed in her glowing +face.</p> + +<p>"I dearly love stories like that," sighed Georgina +when he came to the end and told her to lean back +and rest a while.</p> + +<p>"Barby—I mean my mother—and I act them all +the time, and sometimes we make them up ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you'll write them when you grow up," +suggested Mr. Locke not losing a moment, but +sketching her in the position she had taken of her +own accord.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I shall," exclaimed Georgina, thrilled +by the thought. "My grandfather Shirley said I +could write for his paper some day. You know he's +an editor, down in Kentucky. I'd like to be the editor +of a magazine that children would adore the way +I do the <i>St. Nicholas</i>."</p> + +<p>Tippy would have said that Georgina was "running +on." But Mr. Locke did not think so. Children +always opened their hearts to him. He held the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +magic key. Georgina found it easier to tell him her +inmost feelings than anybody else in the world but +Barby.</p> + +<p>"That's a beautiful game you and Dicky were +playing this morning," he remarked presently, "tagging +each other with rainbows. I believe I'll put it +into this fairy tale, have the water-nixies do it as +they slide over the water-fall."</p> + +<p>"But it isn't half as nice as the game we play in +earnest," she assured him. "In our Rainbow Club +we have a sort of game of tag. We tag a person +with a good time, or some kindness to make them +happy, and we pretend that makes a little rainbow +in the world. Do you think it does?"</p> + +<p>"It makes a very real one, I am sure," was the +serious answer. "Have you many members?"</p> + +<p>"Just Richard and me and the bank president, Mr. +Gates, so far, but—but you can belong—if you'd +like to."</p> + +<p>She hesitated a trifle over the last part of her invitation, +having just remembered what a famous +man she was talking to. He might think she was +taking a liberty even to suggest that he might care +to belong.</p> + +<p>"I'd like it very much," he assured her gravely, +"if you think I can live up to the requirements."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you already have," she cried. "Think of all +the happy hours you have made for people with +your books and pictures—just swarms and bevies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +and <i>flocks</i> of rainbows! We would have put you on +the list of honorary members anyhow. Those are +the members who don't know they are members," +she explained. "They're just like the prisms themselves. +Prisms don't know they are prisms but everybody +who looks at them sees the beautiful places they +make in the world."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<img src="images/i021.jpg" width="386" height="600" alt="Sea of dreams illustration" /> +</div> + +<p>"Georgina," he said solemnly, "that is the very +loveliest thing that was ever said to me in all my +life. Make me club member number four and I'll +play the game to my very best ability. I'll try to do +some tagging really worth while."</p> + +<p>He had been sketching constantly all the time he +talked, and now, impelled by curiosity, Georgina got +up from the stone bench and walked over to take +a look at his work. He had laid aside the several +outline studies he had made of her, and was now +exercising his imagination in sketching a ship.</p> + +<p>"This is to be the one that brings the Princess +home, and in a minute I want you to pose for the +Princess, for she is to have curls, long, golden ones, +and she is to hold her head as you did a few moments +ago when you were talking about looking off to +sea."</p> + +<p>Georgina brought her hands together in a quick +gesture as she said imploringly, "Oh, <i>do</i> put Hope at +the prow. Every time I pass the Figurehead House +and see Hope sitting up on the portico roof I wish I +could see how she looked when she was riding the +waves on the prow of a gallant vessel. That's where +she ought to be, I heard a man say. He said Hope +squatting on a portico roof may look ridiculous, but +Hope breasting the billows is superb."</p> + +<p>Mr. Locke was no stranger in the town. He knew +the story of the figurehead as the townspeople knew +it, now he heard its message as Uncle Darcy knew it. +He listened as intently to Georgina as she had listened +to him. At the end he lifted his head, peering +fixedly through half-closed eyes at nothing.</p> + +<p>"You have made me see the most beautiful ship," +he said, musingly. "It is a silver shallop coming +across a sea of Dreams, its silken sails set wide, and +at the prow is an angel. 'White-handed Hope, thou +hovering angel girt with golden wings,'" he quoted. +"Yes, I'll make it with golden wings sweeping back +over the sides this way. See?"</p> + +<p>His pencil flew over the paper again, showing her +in a few swift strokes an outline of the vision she +had given him.</p> + +<p>And now Tippy would have said not only that +Georgina was "running on," but that she was "wound +up," for with such a sympathetic and appreciative +listener, she told him the many things she would have +taken to Barby had she been at home. Especially, +she talked about her difficulties in living up to the +aim of the club. In stories there are always poor +people whom one can benefit; patient sufferers at +hospitals, pallid children of the slums. But in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a><br /><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +range of Georgina's life there seemed to be so few +opportunities and those few did not always turn out +the way they should.</p> + +<p>For instance, there was the time she tried to cheer +Tippy up with her "line to live by," and her efforts +were neither appreciated nor understood. And there +was the time only yesterday when she stayed with +Aunt Elspeth, and got into trouble with the eggs, and +now had a debt on her conscience equal to eight eggs +or twenty cents.</p> + +<p>It showed how well Mr. Locke understood children +when he did not laugh over the recital of that +last calamity, although it sounded unspeakably funny +to him as Georgina told it. In such congenial company +the time flew so fast that Georgina was amazed +when Mr. Milford drove up to take his distinguished +guest away. Mr. Locke took with him what he +had hoped to get, a number of sketches to fill in at his +leisure.</p> + +<p>"They're exactly what I wanted," he assured her +gratefully as he shook hands at parting. "And that +suggestion of yours for the ship will make the most +fetching illustration of all. I'll send you a copy in +oils when I get time for it, and I'll always think of +you, my little friend, as <i>Georgina of the Rainbows</i>."</p> + +<p>With a courtly bow he was gone, and Georgina +went into the house to look for the little blank book +in which she had started to keep her two lists of +Club members, honorary and real. The name of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +Milford Norris Locke she wrote in both lists. If +there had been a third list, she would have written +him down in that as the very nicest gentleman she had +ever met. Then she began a letter to Barby, telling +all about her wonderful morning. But it seemed to +her she had barely begun, when Mr. Milford's chauffeur +came driving back with something for her in a +paper bag. When she peeped inside she was so astonished +she nearly dropped it.</p> + +<p>"Eggs!" she exclaimed. Then in unconscious imitation +of Mrs. Saggs, she added, "Can you beat +<i>that!</i>"</p> + +<p>One by one she took them out and counted them. +There were exactly eight. Then she read the card +which had dropped down to the bottom of the bag.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Milford Norris Locke."</p> + +<p>Above the name was a tiny rainbow done in water +colors, and below was scribbled the words, "Last +tag."</p> + +<p>It was a pity that the new member could not +have seen her face at that instant, its expression was +so eloquent of surprise, of pleasure and of relief that +her trouble had thus been wiped out of existence.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>LIGHT DAWNS FOR UNCLE DARCY</div> + + +<div class='cap'>FOR some time the faint jangle of a bell had been +sounding at intervals far down the street. Ordinarily +it would have caught Georgina's attention +long before this, but absorbed in the letter to which +she had returned after putting the eggs down cellar, +she did not hear the ringing until it was near +enough for the Towncrier's message to be audible +also. He was announcing the extra day of the Bazaar, +and calling attention to the many new attractions +it would have to offer on the morrow.</div> + +<p>Instantly, Georgina dropped her pencil and flew +out to meet him. Here was an opportunity to find +out all about the Brewster trip. As he came towards +her she saw the same look in his weather-beaten old +face which she had wondered at the day before, when +he was bending over Aunt Elspeth, patting her on +the cheek. It was like the shining of a newly-lighted +candle.</p> + +<p>She was not the only one who had noticed it. All +the way up the street glances had followed him. People +turned for a second look, wondering what good +fortune had befallen the old fellow. They had come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +to expect a cheery greeting from him. He always +left a kindly glow behind him whenever he passed. +But to-day the cheeriness was so intensified that he +seemed to be brimming over with good will to everybody.</p> + +<p>"Why, Uncle Darcy!" cried Georgina. "You look +so happy!"</p> + +<p>"Well, is it any wonder, lass, with such news from +Danny? Him alive and well and sure to come back +to me some of these days! I could hardly keep from +shouting it out to everybody as I came along the +street. I'm afraid it'll just naturally tell itself some +day, in spite of my promise to Belle. I'm glad I +can let off steam up here, you knowing the secret, too, +for this old heart of mine is just about to burst with +all the gladness that's inside of me."</p> + +<p>Here was someone as anxious to tell as she was +to hear; someone who could recall every word of +the interview with the wild-cat woman. Georgina +swung on to his arm which held the bell, and began +to ask questions, and nothing loath, he let her lead +him into the yard and to the rustic seat running +around the trunk of the big willow tree. He was +ready to rest, now that his route was traveled and +his dollar earned.</p> + +<p>Belle, back in the kitchen, preparing a light dinner +for herself and Georgina, Tippy being away for the +day, did not see him come in. She had not seen +him since the day the old rifle gave up its secret, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +she tried to put him out of her mind as much as +possible, for she was miserable every time she +thought of him. She would have been still more +miserable could she have heard all that he was saying +to Georgina.</p> + +<p>"Jimmy Milford thought that the liniment folks +calling the boy 'Dave,' proved that he wasn't the +same as my Danny. But just one thing would have +settled all doubts for me if I'd a had any. That was +what he kept a calling in his fever when he was out +of his head: 'Belle mustn't suffer. Belle must be +spared, no matter what happens!'</p> + +<p>"And that's the one thing that reconciles me to +keeping still a while longer. It was his wish to spare +her, and if he could sacrifice so much to do it, I can't +make his sacrifice seem in vain. I lay awake last +night till nearly daylight, thinking how I'd like to +take this old bell of mine, and go from one end of +the town to the other, ringing it till it cracked, crying +out, '<i>Danny is innocent</i>,' to the whole world. +But the time hasn't come yet. I'll have to be patient +a while longer and bear up the best I can."</p> + +<p>Georgina, gazing fixedly ahead of her at nothing +in particular, pondered seriously for a long, silent +moment.</p> + +<p>"If you did that," she said finally, "cried the good +news through the town till everybody knew—then +when people found out that it was Emmett Potter +who was the thief and that he was too much of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +coward to own up and take the blame—would they +let the monument go on standing there, that they'd +put up to show he was brave? It would serve him +right if they took it down, wouldn't it!" she exclaimed +with a savage little scowl drawing her brows together.</p> + +<p>"No, no, child!" he said gently. "Give the lad +his due. He <i>was</i> brave that one time. He saved all +of those lives as it is chiseled on his headstone. It is +better he should be remembered for the best act in +his life than for the worst one. A man's measure +should be taken when he's stretched up to his full +height, just as far as he can lift up his head; not +when he's stooped to the lowest. It's only fair to +judge either the living or the dead that way."</p> + +<p>For some time after that nothing more was said. +The harbor was full of boats this morning. It was +a sight worth watching. One naturally drifted into +day-dreams, following the sweep of the sails moving +silently toward the far horizon. Georgina was busy +picturing a home-coming scene that made the prodigal +son's welcome seem mild in comparison, when +Uncle Darcy startled her by exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Oh, it <i>pays</i> to bear up and steer right onward! +S'pose I hadn't done that. S'pose I <i>hadn't</i> kept Hope +at the prow. I believe I'd have been in my grave +by this time with all the grief and worry. But +now——"</p> + +<p>He stopped and shook his head, unable to find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +words to express the emotion which was making his +voice tremble and his face glow with that wonderful +inner shining. Georgina finished the sentence +for him, looking out on the sail-filled harbor and +thinking of the day he had taken her out in his boat +to tell her of his son.</p> + +<p>"But now you'll be all ready and waiting when +your ship comes home from sea with its precious +cargo." They were his own words she was repeating.</p> + +<p>"Danny'll weather the storms at last and come +into port with all flags flying."</p> + +<p>The picture her words suggested was too much +for the old father. He put his hat up in front of his +face, and his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Georgina +laid a sympathetic little hand on the rough +sleeve next her. Suddenly the sails in the harbor +seemed to run together all blurry and queer. She +drew her hand across her eyes and looked again at +the heaving shoulders. A happiness so deep that it +found its expression that way, filled her with awe. +It must be the kind of happiness that people felt +when they reached "the shining shore, the other side +of Jordan," and their loved ones came down to welcome +them "into their desired haven."</p> + +<p>That last phrase came to her lips like a bit of remembered +music and unconsciously she repeated it +aloud. Uncle Darcy heard it, and looked up. His +cheeks were wet when he put down his hat, but it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +was the happiest face she had ever seen, and there +was no shake in his voice now when he said solemnly:</p> + +<p>"And nobody but the good Lord who's helped his +poor sailors through shipwreck and storm, knows +how mightily they've desired that haven, or what it +means to them to be brought into it."</p> + +<p>A delivery wagon from one of the fruit stores +stopped in front of the gate, and the driver came in, +carrying a basket. Uncle Darcy spoke to him as he +passed the willow tree.</p> + +<p>"Well, Joe, this looks like a chance for me to get +a lift most of the way home."</p> + +<p>"Sure," was the cordial reply. "Climb in. I'll be +right back."</p> + +<p>Georgina thought of something as he rose to go.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wait just a minute, Uncle Darcy, I want to +get something of yours that's down cellar."</p> + +<p>When she came back there was no time or opportunity +for an explanation. He and the driver +were both in the wagon. She reached up and put +the bag on the seat beside him.</p> + +<p>"I—I did something to some of your eggs, yesterday," +she stammered, "and these are to take the +place of the ones I broke."</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy peered into the bag with a puzzled +expression. He had not missed any eggs from the +crock of bran. He didn't know what she was talking +about. But before he could ask any questions the +driver slapped the horse with the reins, and they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +rattling off down street. Georgina stood looking +after them a moment, then turned her head to listen. +Somebody was calling her. It was Belle, who +had come to the front door to say that dinner was +ready.</p> + +<p>Whenever Mrs. Triplett was at home, Belle made +extra efforts to talk and appear interested in what +was going on around her. She was afraid her keen-eyed +Aunt Maria would see that she was unhappy. +But alone with Georgina who shared her secret, she +relapsed into a silence so deep it could be felt, responding +only with a wan smile when the child's +lively chatter seemed to force an answer of some +kind. But to-day when Georgina came to the table +she was strangely silent herself, so mute that Belle +noticed it, and found that she was being furtively +watched by the big brown eyes opposite her. Every +time Belle looked up she caught Georgina's gaze fastened +on her, and each time it was immediately transferred +to her plate.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Georgina?" she asked finally. +"Why do you keep staring at me?"</p> + +<p>Georgina flushed guiltily. "Nothing," was the +embarrassed answer. "I was just wondering +whether to tell you or not. I thought maybe you'd +like to know, and maybe you ought to know, but I +wasn't sure whether you'd want me to talk to you +about it or not."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>Belle put down her tea-cup. It was her turn to +stare.</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake! What <i>are</i> you beating +around the bush about?"</p> + +<p>"About the news from Danny," answered Georgina. +"About the letter he wrote to the wild-cat +woman and that got buried in the dunes too deep +ever to be dug up again."</p> + +<p>As this was the first Belle had heard of either the +letter or the woman, her expression of astonishment +was all that Georgina could desire. Her news +had made a sensation. Belle showed plainly that +she was startled, and as eager to hear as Georgina +was to tell. So she began at the beginning, from the +time of the opening of the pouch on the Green +Stairs, to the last word of the wild-cat woman's conversation +which Uncle Darcy had repeated to her +only a few moments before under the willow.</p> + +<p>Instinctively, she gave the recital a dramatic touch +which made Belle feel almost like an eye witness as +she listened. And it was with Uncle Darcy's own +gestures and manner that she repeated his final statement.</p> + +<p>"Jimmy Milford thought the liniment folks calling +the boy Dave proved he wasn't the same as my +Danny. But just one thing would have settled all +doubts for me if I'd had any. That was what he +kept a calling in his fever when he was out of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +head: '<i>Belle</i> mustn't suffer. <i>Belle</i> must be spared +no matter what happens.'"</p> + +<p>At the bringing of her own name into the story +Belle gave a perceptible start and a tinge of red +crept into her pale cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Did he say that, Georgina?" she demanded, leaning +forward and looking at her intently. "Are you +sure those are his exact words?"</p> + +<p>"His very-own-exactly-the-same words," declared +Georgina solemnly. "I cross my heart and body +they're just as Uncle Darcy told them to me."</p> + +<p>Rising from the table, Belle walked over to the +window and stood with her back to Georgina, looking +out into the garden.</p> + +<p>"Well, and what next?" she demanded in a queer, +breathless sort of way.</p> + +<p>"And then Uncle Darcy said that his saying that +was the one thing that made him feel willing to keep +still a while longer about—you know—what was in +the rifle. 'Cause if Danny cared enough about sparing +you to give up home and his good name and +everything else in life he couldn't spoil it all by telling +now. But Uncle Darcy said he lay awake nearly +all last night thinking how he'd love to take that old +bell of his and go ringing it through the town till it +cracked, calling out to the world, 'My boy is innocent.'</p> + +<p>"And when I said something about it's all coming +out all right some day, and that Danny would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +weather the storms and come into port with all flags +flying——" Here Georgina lowered her voice and +went on slowly as if she hesitated to speak of what +happened next—"he just put his old hat over his +face and cried. And I felt so sorry——"</p> + +<p>Georgina's voice choked. There were tears in her +eyes as she spoke of the scene.</p> + +<p>"<i>Don't!</i>" groaned Belle, her back still turned.</p> + +<p>The note of distress in Belle's voice stilled Georgina's +lively tongue a few seconds, but there was one +more thing in her mind to be said, and with the persistence +of a mosquito she returned to the subject to +give that final stab, quite unconscious of how deeply +it would sting. She was only wondering aloud, something +which she had often wondered to herself.</p> + +<p>"I should think that when anybody had suffered +as long as Danny has to spare you, it would make +you want to spare him. Doesn't it? I should think +that you'd want to do something to sort of make up +to him for it all. Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>don't!</i>" exclaimed Belle again, sharply this +time. Then to Georgina's utter amazement she buried +her face in her apron, stood sobbing by the window +a moment, and ran out of the room. She did +not come downstairs again until nearly supper time.</p> + +<p>Georgina sat at the table, not knowing what to +do next. She felt that she had muddled things dreadfully. +Instead of making Belle feel better as she +hoped to do, she realized she had hurt her in some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +unintentional way. Presently, she slowly drew herself +up from her chair and began to clear the table, +piling the few dishes they had used, under the dishpan +in the sink. The house stood open to the summer +breeze. It seemed so desolate and deserted +with Belle upstairs, drawn in alone with her troubles +and Tippy away, that she couldn't bear to stay in the +silent rooms. She wandered out into the yard and +climbed up into the willow to look across the water.</p> + +<p>Somewhere out there on those shining waves, +Richard was sailing along, in the party given for +Mr. Locke, and to-morrow he would be going away +on the yacht. If he were at home she wouldn't be +up in the willow wondering what to do next. Well, +as long as she couldn't have a good time herself +she'd think of someone else she could make happy. +For several minutes she sent her thoughts wandering +over the list of all the people she knew, but it +seemed as if her friends were capable of making +their own good times, all except poor Belle. Probably +<i>she</i> never would be happy again, no matter what +anybody did to try to brighten her life. It was so +discouraging when one was trying to play the game +of "Rainbow Tag," for there to be no one to tag. +She wished she knew some needy person, some unfortunate +soul who would be glad of her efforts to +make them happy.</p> + +<p>Once she thought of slipping off down street to +the library. Miss Tupman always let her go in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +where the shelves were and choose her own book. +Miss Tupman was always so interesting, too, more +than any of the books when she had time to talk. +But that grim old word Duty rose up in front of her, +telling her that she ought not to run away and leave +the house all open with Belle locked in her room upstairs. +Somebody ought to be within hearing if +the telephone rang or anyone came. She went +into the house for a book which she had read many +times but which never failed to interest her, and +curled up in a big rocking chair on the front porch.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon she smelled burning pine +chips and smoke from the kitchen chimney which +told that a fire was being started in the stove. After +a while she went around the house to the kitchen door +and peeped in, apprehensively. Belle was piling the +dinner dishes into the pan, preparatory to washing +them while supper was cooking. Her eyes were red +and she did not look up when Georgina came in, but +there was an air of silent determination about her +as forcible as her Aunt Maria's. Picking up the +tea-kettle, she filled the dishpan and carried the kettle +back to the stove, setting it down hard before she +spoke. Then she said:</p> + +<p>"Nobody'll ever know what I've been through +with, fighting this thing out with myself. I can't go +all the way yet. I <i>can't</i> say the word that'll let the +blow fall on poor old Father Potter. But I don't +seem to care about my part of it any more. I see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +things differently from what I did that first day—<i>you</i> +know. Even Emmett don't seem the same any +more."</p> + +<p>For several minutes there was a rattling of dishes, +but no further speech from Belle. Georgina, not +knowing what to say or do, stood poised uncertainly +on the door-sill. Then Belle spoke again.</p> + +<p>"I'm willing it should be told if only it could be +kept from getting back to Father Potter, for the +way Dan's done <i>does</i> make me want to set him square +with the world. I would like to make up to him in +some way for all he's suffered on my account. I +can't get over it that it was <i>him</i> that had all the +bravery and the nobleness that I was fairly worshiping +in Emmett all these years. Seems like the whole +world has turned upside down."</p> + +<p>Georgina waited a long time, but Belle seemed to +have said all that she intended to say, so presently +she walked over and stood beside the sink.</p> + +<p>"Belle," she said slowly, "does what you said +mean that you're really willing I should tell Barby? +Right away?"</p> + +<p>Belle waited an instant before replying, then taking +a deep breath as if about to make a desperate +plunge into a chasm on whose brink she had long +been poised, said:</p> + +<p>"Yes. Uncle Dan'l would rather have her know +than anybody else. He sets such store by her good +opinion. But oh, <i>do</i> make it plain it mustn't be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +talked about outside, so's it'll get back to Father +Potter."</p> + +<p>The next instant Georgina's arms were around +her in a silent but joyful squeeze, and she ran upstairs +to write to Barby before the sun should go +down or Tippy get back from the Bazaar.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<img src="images/i022.png" width="425" height="314" alt="Sailboat" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A CONTRAST IN FATHERS</div> + + +<div class='cap'>GEORGINA was having a beautiful day. It was +the first time she had ever taken part in a Bazaar, +and so important was the role assigned her +that she was in a booth all by herself. Moreover, +the little mahogany chair in which she sat was on a +high platform inside the booth, so that all might behold +her. Dressed in a quaint old costume borrowed +from the chests in the Figurehead House, she represented +"A Little Girl of Long Ago."</div> + +<p>On a table beside her stood other borrowed treasures +from the Figurehead House—a doll bedstead +made by an old sea captain on one of his voyages. +Each of its high posts was tipped with a white point, +carved from the bone of a whale. Wonderful little +patchwork quilts, a feather bed and tiny pillows +made especially for the bed, were objects of interest +to everyone who crowded around the booth. So +were the toys and dishes brought home from other +long cruises by the same old sea captain, who evidently +was an indulgent father and thought often +of the little daughter left behind in the home port. +A row of dolls dressed in fashions half a century old +were also on exhibition.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> + +<p>With unfailing politeness Georgina explained to +the curious summer people who thronged around +her, that they all belonged in the house where the +figurehead of Hope sat on the portico roof, and +were not for sale at any price.</p> + +<p>Until to-day Georgina had been unconscious that +she possessed any unusual personal charms, except +her curls. Her attention had been called to them +from the time she was old enough to understand remarks +people made about them as she passed along +the street. Their beauty would have been a great +pleasure to her if Tippy had not impressed upon her +the fact that looking in the mirror makes one vain, +and it's wicked to be vain. One way in which Tippy +guarded her against the sin of vanity was to mention +some of her bad points, such as her mouth being +a trifle too large, or her nose not quite so shapely as +her mother's, each time anyone unwisely called attention +to her "glorious hair."</p> + +<p>Another way was to repeat a poem from a book +called "Songs for the Little Ones at Home," the +same book which had furnished the "Landing of the +Pilgrims" and "Try, Try Again." It began:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>What! Looking in the glass again?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Why's my silly child so vain?"</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>The disgust, the surprise, the scorn of Tippy's +voice when she repeated that was enough to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +one hurry past a mirror in shame-faced embarrassment.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Beauty soon will fade away.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Your rosy cheeks must soon decay.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">There's nothing lasting you will find,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But the treasures of the mind."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>Rosy cheeks might not be lasting, but it was certainly +pleasant to Georgina to hear them complimented +so continually by passers-by. Sometimes the +remarks were addressed directly to her.</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear</i>," said one enthusiastic admirer, "if I +could only buy <i>you</i> and put you in a gold frame, I'd +have a prettier picture than any artist in town can +paint." Then she turned to a companion to add:</p> + +<p>"Isn't she a love in that little poke bonnet with +the row of rose-buds inside the rim? I never saw +such exquisite coloring or such gorgeous eyes."</p> + +<p>Georgina blushed and looked confused as she +smoothed the long lace mitts over her arms. But +by the time the day was over she had heard the sentiment +repeated so many times that she began to expect +it and to feel vaguely disappointed if it were +not forthcoming from each new group which approached +her.</p> + +<p>Another thing gave her a new sense of pleasure +and enriched her day. On the table beside her, under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +a glass case, to protect it from careless handling, +was a little blank book which contained the records +of the first sewing circle in Provincetown. The +book lay open, displaying a page of the minutes, and +a column of names of members, written in an exquisitely +fine and beautiful hand. The name of +Georgina's great-great grandmother was in that column. +It gave her a feeling of being well born and +distinguished to be able to point it out.</p> + +<p>The little book seemed to reinforce and emphasize +the claims of the monument and the silver porringer. +She felt it was so nice to be beautiful and <i>to belong;</i> +to have belonged from the beginning both to a first +family and a first sewing circle.</p> + +<p>Still another thing added to her contentment whenever +the recollection of it came to her. There was +no longer any secret looming up between her and +Barby like a dreadful wall. The letter telling all +about the wonderful and exciting things which had +happened in her absence was already on its way to +Kentucky. It was not a letter to be proud of. It +was scrawled as fast as she could write it with a +pencil, and she knew perfectly well that a dozen +or more words were misspelled, but she couldn't +take time to correct them, or to think of easy words +to put in their places. But Barby wouldn't care. +She would be so happy for Uncle Darcy's sake and +so interested in knowing that her own little daughter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +had had an important part in finding the good news +that she wouldn't notice the spelling or the scraggly +writing.</p> + +<p>As the day wore on, Georgina, growing more and +more satisfied with herself and her lot, felt that there +was no one in the whole world with whom she would +change places. Towards the last of the afternoon +a group of people came in whom Georgina recognized +as a family from the Gray Inn. They had +been at the Inn several days, and she had noticed +them each time she passed them, because the children +seemed on such surprisingly intimate terms with +their father. That he was a naval officer she knew +from the way he dressed, and that he was on a long +furlough she knew from some remark which she +overheard.</p> + +<p>He had a grave, stern face, and when he came into +the room he gave a searching glance from left to +right as if to take notice of every object in it. His +manner made Georgina think of "Casabianca," another +poem of Tippy's teaching:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<i><span style="margin-left: 7em;">"He stood</span><br /> +As born to rule the storm.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A creature of heroic blood,</span><br /> +A brave though ... form.</i>"<br /> +</div> + +<p>"Childlike" was the word she left out because it +did not fit in this case. "A brave and manlike form"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +would be better. She repeated the verse to herself +with this alteration.</p> + +<p>When he spoke to his little daughter or she spoke +to him his expression changed so wonderfully that +Georgina watched him with deep interest. The oldest +boy was with them. He was about fourteen and +as tall as his mother. He was walking beside her +but every few steps he turned to say something to +the others, and they seemed to be enjoying some +joke together. Somebody who knew them came up +as they reached the booth of "The Little Girl of +Long Ago," and introduced them to Georgina, so +she found out their names. It was Burrell. He +was a Captain, and the children were Peggy and +Bailey.</p> + +<p>As Georgina looked down at Peggy from the little +platform where she sat in the old mahogany chair, +she thought with a throb of satisfaction that she +was glad she didn't have to change places with that +homely little thing. Evidently, Peggy was just up +from a severe illness. Her hair had been cut so +short one could scarcely tell the color of it. She +was so thin and white that her eyes looked too large +for her face and her neck too slender for her head, +and the freckles which would scarcely have shown +had she been her usual rosy self, stood out like big +brown <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'spotches'">splotches</ins> on her pallid little face. She limped +a trifle too, as she walked.</p> + +<p>With a satisfied consciousness of her own rose-leaf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +complexion, Georgina was almost patronizing +as she bent over the table to say graciously once more +after countless number of times, "no, that is not for +sale."</p> + +<p>The next instant Peggy was swinging on her father's +arm exclaiming, "Oh, Dad-o'-my-heart! See that +cunning doll bathing suit. Please get it for me." +Almost in the same breath Bailey, jogging the Captain's +elbow on the other side, exclaimed, "Look, +Partner, <i>that's</i> a relic worth having."</p> + +<p>Georgina listened, fascinated. To think of calling +one's father "Dad-o'-my-heart" or "Partner!" +And they looked up at him as if they adored him, +even that big boy, nearly grown. And a sort of +laugh come into the Captain's eyes each time they +spoke to him, as if he thought everything they said +and did was perfect.</p> + +<p>A wave of loneliness swept over Georgina as she +listened. There was an empty spot in her heart that +ached with longing—not for Barby, but for the +father whom she had never known in this sweet intimate +way. She knew now how it felt to be an orphan. +What satisfaction was there in having +beautiful curls if no big, kind hand ever passed over +them in a fatherly caress such as was passing over +Peggy Burrell's closely-clipped head? What pleasure +was there in having people praise you if they +said behind your back:</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's Justin Huntingdon's daughter. Don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +you think a man would want to come home once or +twice in a lifetime to such a lovely child as that?"</p> + +<p>Georgina had heard that very remark earlier in +the day, also the answer given with a significant shrug +of the shoulders:</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has other fish to fry."</p> + +<p>The remarks had not annoyed her especially at the +time, but they rankled now as she recalled them. +They hurt until they took all the pleasure and satisfaction +out of her beautiful day, just as the sun, going +under a cloud, leaves the world bereft of all its +shine and sparkle. She looked around, wishing it +were time to go home.</p> + +<p>Presently, Captain Burrell, having made the +rounds of the room, came back to Georgina. He +smiled at her so warmly that she wondered that she +could have thought his face was stern.</p> + +<p>"They tell me that you are Doctor Huntingdon's +little girl," he said with a smile that went straight +to her heart. "So I've come back to ask you all +about him. Where is he now and how is he? You +see I have an especial interest in your distinguished +father. He pulled me through a fever in the Philippines +that all but ended me. I have reason to remember +him for his many, many kindnesses to me at +that time."</p> + +<p>The flush that rose to Georgina's face might naturally +have been taken for one of pride or pleasure, +but it was only miserable embarrassment at not being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +able to answer the Captain's questions. She +could not bear to confess that she knew nothing of +her father's whereabouts except the vague fact that +he was somewhere in the interior of China, and that +there had been no letter from him for months and +that she had not seen him for nearly four years.</p> + +<p>"He—he was well the last time we heard from +him," she managed to stammer. "But I haven't +heard anything lately. You know my mother isn't +home now. She went to Kentucky because my grandfather +Shirley was hurt in an accident."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," was the answer in +a cordial, sympathetic voice. "I hoped to have the +pleasure of meeting her and I wanted Mrs. Burrell +to know her, too. But I hope you'll come over to +the Inn and play with Peggy sometimes. We'll be +here another week."</p> + +<p>Georgina thanked him in her prettiest manner, but +she was relieved when he passed on, and she was +freed from the fear of any more embarrassing questions +about her father. Yet her hand still tingled +with the friendliness of his good-bye clasp, and she +wished that she could know him better. As she +watched him pass out of the door with Peggy holding +his hand and swinging it as they walked, she +thought hungrily:</p> + +<p>"How good it must seem to have a father like +<i>that</i>."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett came up to her soon after. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +time to close the Bazaar. The last probable customer +had gone, and the ladies in charge of the +booths were beginning to dismantle them. Someone's +chauffeur was waiting to take Georgina's costume +back to the Figurehead House.</p> + +<p>She followed Mrs. Triplett obediently into an +improvised dressing-room in the corner, behind a +tall screen, and in a very few minutes was about to +emerge clad in her own clothes, when Mrs. Triplett +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"For pity sakes! Those gold beads!"</p> + +<p>Georgina's hand went up to the string of gold +beads still around her neck. They also were borrowed +from Mrs. Tupman of the Figurehead House.</p> + +<p>"I was going to ask Mrs. Tupman to take them +home herself," said Mrs. Triplett, "but she left +earlier than I thought she would, and I had no chance +to say anything about them. We oughtn't to trust +anything as valuable as gold beads that are an heirloom +to any outsider, no matter how honest. They +might be lost. Suppose you just <i>wear</i> them home +to her. Do you feel like doing that? And keep +them on your neck till she unclasps them with her +own hands. Don't leave them with a servant."</p> + +<p>Georgina, tired of sitting all day in the booth, was +glad of an excuse for a long walk. It was almost +six o'clock, but the sun was still high. As she went +along, jostled off the narrow sidewalk and back on +to it again every few steps by the good-natured crowd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +which swarmed the streets at this hour, she could +smell supper cooking in the houses along the way. +It would be delayed in many homes because the tide +was in and people were running down the beach +from the various cottages for a dip into the sea. +Some carried their bathing suits in bundles, some +wore them under raincoats or dressing gowns, and +some walked boldly along bare-armed and bare-legged +in the suits themselves.</p> + +<p>It was a gay scene, with touches of color in every +direction. Vivid green grass in all the door-yards, +masses of roses and hollyhocks and clematis against +the clean white of the houses. Color of every shade +in the caps and sweaters and bathing suits and floating +motor veils and parasols, jolly laughter everywhere, +and friendly voices calling back and forth +across the street. It was a holiday town full of +happy holiday people.</p> + +<p>Georgina, skipping along through the midst of it, +added another pretty touch of color to the scene, with +her blue ribbons and hat with the forget-me-nots +around it, but if her thoughts could have been seen, +they would have showed a sober drab. The meeting +with Captain Burrell had left her depressed and +unhappy. The thought uppermost in her mind was +why should there be such a difference in fathers? +Why should Peggy Burrell have such an adorable +one, and she be left to feel like an orphan?</p> + +<p>When she reached the Figurehead House she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +told that Mrs. Tupman had stepped out to a neighbor's +for a few minutes but would be right back. +She could have left the beads with a member of the +family, but having been told to deliver them into +the hands of the owner only, she sat down in the +swing in the yard to wait.</p> + +<p>From where she sat she could look up at the +figurehead over the portico. It was the best opportunity +she had ever had for studying it closely. Always +before she had been limited to the few seconds +that were hers in walking or driving by. Now she +could sit and gaze at it intently as she pleased.</p> + +<p>The fact that it was weather-stained and dark as +an Indian with the paint worn off its face in patches, +only enhanced its interest in her eyes. It seemed +to bear the scars of one who has suffered and come +up through great tribulation. No matter how battered +this Lady of Mystery was in appearance, to +Georgina she still stood for "Hope," clinging to her +wreath, still facing the future with head held high, +the symbol of all those, who having ships at sea, +watch and wait for their home-coming with proud, +undaunted courage.</p> + +<p>Only an old wooden image, but out of a past of +shipwreck and storm its message survived and in +some subtle manner found its way into the heart of +Georgina.</p> + +<p>"And I'll do it, too," she resolved valiantly, looking +up at it. "I'm going to hope so hard that he'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +be the way I want him to be, that he'll just <i>have</i> to. +And if he isn't—then I'll just steer straight onward +as if I didn't mind it, so Barby'll never know how +disappointed I am. Barby must never know that."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, the gold beads being delivered +into Mrs. Tupman's own hands, Georgina took +her way homeward, considerably lighter of heart, +for those moments of reflection in the swing. As +she passed the antique shop a great gray cat on the +door-step, rose and stretched itself.</p> + +<p>"Nice kitty!" she said, stopping to smooth the +thick fur which stood up as he arched his back.</p> + +<p>It was "Grandpa," to whose taste for fish she +owed her prism and the bit of philosophy which was +to brighten not only her own life but all those which +touched hers. But she passed on, unconscious of her +debt to him.</p> + +<p>When she reached the Gray Inn she walked more +slowly, for on the beach back of it she saw several +people whom she recognized. Captain Burrell was +in the water with Peggy and Bailey and half a dozen +other children from the Inn. They were all splashing +and laughing. They seemed to be having some +sort of a game. She stood a moment wishing that +she had on her bathing suit and was down in the +water with them. She could swim better than any +of the children there. But she hadn't been in the +sea since Barby left. That was one of the things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +she promised in their dark hour of parting, not to +go in while Barby was gone.</p> + +<p>While she stood there, Mrs. Burrell came out on +the piazza of the Inn, followed by the colored nurse +with the baby who was just learning to walk. The +Captain, seeing them, threw up his hand to signal +them. Mrs. Burrell fluttered her handkerchief in +reply.</p> + +<p>Georgina watched the group in the water a moment +longer, then turned and walked slowly on. She +felt that if she could do it without having to give up +Barby, she'd be willing to change places with Peggy +Burrell. She'd take her homely little pale, freckled +face, straight hair and—yes, even her limp, for the +right to cling to that strong protecting shoulder as +Peggy was doing there in the water, and to whisper +in his ear, "Dad-o'-my-heart."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 166px;"> +<img src="images/i023.png" width="166" height="250" alt="Female figurehead" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A LETTER TO HONG-KONG</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THERE are some subjects one hesitates to discuss +with one's family. It is easier to seek +information from strangers or servants, who do not +feel free to come back at you with the disconcerting +question, "But why do you ask?"</div> + +<p>It was with the half-formed resolution of leading +up to a certain one of these difficult subjects if she +could, that Georgina wandered down the beach next +morning to a little pavilion near the Gray Inn. It +was occupied by Peggy Burrell, her baby brother and +the colored nurse Melindy.</p> + +<p>Georgina, sorely wanting companionship now that +Richard and Captain Kidd were off on their yachting +trip, was thankful that Mrs. Triplett had met +Captain Burrell the day before at the Bazaar, and +had agreed with him that Georgina and Peggy ought +to be friends because their fathers were. Otherwise, +the occupants of the pavilion would have been +counted as undesirable playmates being outside the +pale of her acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Peggy welcomed her joyfully. She wasn't strong +enough yet to go off on a whole morning's fishing +trip with brother and Daddy, she told Georgina, and +her mother was playing bridge on the hotel piazza. +Peggy was a little thing, only eight, and Georgina<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +not knowing what to do to entertain her, resurrected +an old play that she had not thought of for several +summers. She built Grandfather Shirley's house in +the sand.</p> + +<p>It took so long to find the right kind of shells +with which to make the lanterns for the gate-posts, +and to gather the twigs of bayberry and beach plum +for the avenues (she had to go into the dunes for +them), that the question she was intending to ask +Melindy slipped from her mind for a while. It +came back to her, however, as she scooped a place +in the wall of pebbles and wet sand which stood for +the fence.</p> + +<p>"Here's the place where the postman drops the +mail."</p> + +<p>Then she looked up at Melindy, the question on +the tip of her tongue. But Peggy, on her knees, was +watching her so intently that she seemed to be looking +straight into her mouth every time it opened, +and her courage failed her. Instead of saying what +she had started to say, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Here's the hole in the fence where the little pigs +squeezed through." Then she told the story that +went with this part of the game. When it was time +to put in the bee-hives, however, and Peggy volunteered +to look up and down the beach for the right +kind of a pebble to set the bee-hives on, Georgina +took advantage of the moment alone with Melindy. +There wasn't time to lead up to the question properly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +There wasn't even time to frame the question +in such a way that it would seem a casual, matter-of-course +one. Georgina was conscious that the +blood was surging up into her cheeks until they must +seem as red as fire. She leaned forward toward the +sand-pile she was shaping till her curls fell over her +face. Then she blurted out:</p> + +<p>"How often do husbands write to wives?"</p> + +<p>Melindy either did not hear or did not understand, +and Georgina had the mortifying experience +of repeating the question. It was harder to give +utterance to it the second time than the first. She +was relieved when Melindy answered without showing +any surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, most every week I reckon, when they +loves 'em. Leastways white folks do. It comes easy +to them to write. An' I lived in one place where the +lady got a lettah every othah day."</p> + +<p>"But I mean when the husband's gone for a long, +long time, off to sea or to another country, and is +dreadfully busy, like Captain Burrell is when he's +on his ship."</p> + +<p>Melindy gave a short laugh. "Huh! Let me tell +you, honey, when a man <i>wants</i> to write he's gwine +to write, busy or no busy."</p> + +<p>Later, Georgina went home pondering Melindy's +answer. "Most every week when they love's 'em. +Sometimes every other day." And Barby had had +no letter for over four months.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + +<p>Something happened that afternoon which had +never happened before in all Georgina's experience. +She was taken to the Gray Inn to call. Mrs. Triplett, +dressed in her new black summer silk, took her.</p> + +<p>"As long as Barbara isn't here to pay some attention +to that Mrs. Burrell," Tippy said to Belle, +"it seems to me it's my place as next of kin. The +Captain couldn't get done saying nice things about +Justin."</p> + +<p>Evidently, she approved of both Mrs. Burrell and +Peggy, for when each begged that Georgina be allowed +to stay to supper she graciously gave permission.</p> + +<p>"Peggy has taken the wildest fancy to you, dear," +Mrs. Burrell said in an aside to Georgina. "You +gave her a beautiful morning on the beach. The +poor little thing has suffered so much with her lame +knee, that we are grateful to anyone who makes her +forget all that she has gone through. It's only last +week that she could have the brace taken off. She +hasn't been able to run and play like other children +for two years, but we're hoping she may outgrow the +trouble in time."</p> + +<p>The dining-room of the Gray Inn overlooked the +sea, and was so close to the water one had the feeling +of being in a boat, when looking out of its windows. +There were two South American transports +in the harbor. Some of the officers had come ashore +and were dining with friends at the Gray Inn. Afterwards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +they stayed to dance a while in the long +parlor with the young ladies of the party.</p> + +<p>Peggy and Georgina sat on the piazza just outside +one of the long French windows, where they +could watch the gay scene inside. It seemed almost +as gay outside, when one turned to look across the +harbor filled with moving lights. Captain and Mrs. +Burrell were outside also. They sat farther down +the piazza, near the railing, talking to one of the +officers who was not dancing. Once when the music +stopped, Peggy turned to Georgina to say:</p> + +<p>"Do you hear Daddy speaking Spanish to that +officer from South America? Doesn't he do it well? +I can understand a little of what they say because +we lived in South America a while last year. We +join him whenever he is stationed at a port where +officers can take their families. He says that children +of the navy have to learn to be regular gypsies. +I love going to new places. How many languages +can your father speak?"</p> + +<p>Georgina, thus suddenly questioned, felt that she +would rather die than acknowledge that she knew so +little of her father that she could not answer. She +was saved the mortification of confessing it, however, +by the music striking up again at that moment.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can play that!" she exclaimed. "That's +the dance of the tarantula. Isn't it a weird sort of +thing?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p> + +<p>The air of absorbed interest with which Georgina +turned to listen to the music made Peggy forget her +question, and listen in the same way. She wanted +to do everything in the same way that Georgina did +it, and from that moment that piece of music held +special charm for her because Georgina called it +weird.</p> + +<p>The next time Georgina glanced down the piazza +Mrs. Burrell was alone. In her dimly-lighted corner, +she looked like one of the pretty summer girls +one sees sometimes on a magazine cover. She was +all in white with a pale blue wrap of some kind about +her that was so soft and fleecy it looked like a pale +blue cloud. Georgina found herself looking down +that way often, with admiring glances. She happened +to have her eyes turned that way when the Captain +came back and stood beside her chair. The blue +wrap had slipped from her shoulders without her +notice, and he stooped and picked it up. Then he +drew the soft, warm thing up around her, and bending +over, laid his cheek for just an instant against +hers.</p> + +<p>It was such a fleeting little caress that no one saw +it but Georgina, and she turned her eyes away instantly, +feeling that she had no right to look, yet +glad that she had seen, because of the warm glow +it sent through her. She couldn't tell why, but somehow +the world seemed a happier sort of place for +everybody because such things happened in it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wonder," she thought wistfully, as her eyes +followed the graceful steps of the foreign dancers +and her thoughts stayed with what she had just +witnessed, "I wonder if that had been Barby and my +father, would <i>he?</i>"——</p> + +<p>But she did not finish even to herself the question +which rose up to worry her. It came back every +time she recalled the little scene.</p> + +<p>On the morning after her visit to the Gray Inn +she climbed up on the piano stool when she had finished +practising her scales. She wanted a closer +view of the portrait which hung over it. It was an +oil painting of her father at the age of five. He +wore kilts and little socks with plaid tops, and he +carried a white rabbit in his arms. Georgina knew +every inch of the canvas, having admired it from the +time she was first held up to it in someone's arms to +"see the pretty bunny." Now she looked at it long +and searchingly.</p> + +<p>Then she opened the book-case and took out an +old photograph album. There were several pictures +of her father in that. One taken with his High +School class, and one with a group of young medical +students, and one in the white service dress of an +assistant surgeon of the navy. None of them corresponded +with her dim memory of him.</p> + +<p>Then she went upstairs to Barby's room, and stood +before the bureau, studying the picture upon it in +a large silver frame. It was taken in a standing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +position and had been carefully colored, so that she +knew accurately every detail of the dress uniform +of a naval surgeon from the stripes of gold lace and +maroon velvet on the sleeves, to the eagle on the belt +buckle and the sword knot dangling over the scabbard. +There were various medals pinned on his +breast which had always interested her.</p> + +<p>But this morning it was not the uniform or the +decorations which claimed her attention. It was the +face itself. She was looking for something in the +depths of those serious dark eyes, that she had seen +in Captain Burrell's when he looked at Peggy; something +more than a smile, something that made his +whole face light up till you felt warm and happy just +to look at him. She wondered if the closely-set +lips she was studying could curve into a welcoming +smile if anybody ran to meet him with happy outstretched +arms. But the picture was baffling and disappointing, +because it was a profile view.</p> + +<p>Presently, she picked it up and carried it to her +own room, placing it on the table where she always +sat to write. She had screwed up her courage at +last, to the point of writing the letter which long +ago she had decided ought to be written by somebody.</p> + +<p>Once Barby said, "When you can't think of anything +to put in a letter, look at the person's picture, +and pretend you're talking to it." Georgina followed +that advice now. But one cannot talk enthusiastically<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +to a listener who continues to show +you only his profile.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, her resentment flamed hot against this +handsome, averted face which was all she knew of a +father. She thought bitterly that he had no business +to be such a stranger to her that she didn't even +know what he looked like when he smiled. Something +of the sternness of her old Pilgrim forbears +crept into her soul as she sat there judging him and +biting the end of her pen. She glanced down at +the sheet of paper on which she had painstakingly +written "Dear Father." Then she scratched out +the words, feeling she could not honestly call him +that when he was such a stranger. Taking a clean +sheet of paper, she wrote even more painstakingly:</p> + +<p>"Dear Sir: There are two reesons——"</p> + +<p>Then she looked up in doubt about the spelling +of that last word. She might have gone downstairs +and consulted the dictionary but her experience had +proved that a dictionary is an unsatisfactory book +when one does not know how to spell a word. It is +by mere chance that what one is looking for can be +found. After thinking a moment she put her head +out of the window and called softly down to Belle, +who was sewing on the side porch. She called softly +so that Tippy could not hear and answer and maybe +add the remark, "But why do you ask? Are you +writing to your mother?"</p> + +<p>Belle spelled the word for her, and taking another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +sheet of paper Georgina made a fresh start. This +time she did not hesitate over the spelling, but scribbled +recklessly on until all that was crowding up +to be said was on the paper.</p> + +<p>"Dear Sir: There are two reasons for writing +this. One is about your wife. Cousin Mehitable +says something is eating her heart out, and I thought +you ought to know. Maybe as you can cure so many +strange diseeses you can do something for her. The +other is to ask you to send us another picture of +yourself. The only ones we have of you are looking +off sideways, and I can't feel as well acquainted +with you as if I could look into your eyes.</p> + +<p>"There is a lovely father staying at the Gray Inn. +He is Peggy Burrell's. He is a naval officer, too. +It makes me feel like an orfan when I see him going +down the street holding her hand. He asked me to +tell him all about where you are and what you are +doing, because you cured him once on a hospital +ship, and I was ashamed to tell him that I didn't +know because Barby has not had a letter from you +for over four months. Please don't let on to her +that I wrote this. She doesn't know that I was +under the bed when Cousin Mehitable was talking +about you, and saying that everybody thinks it is +queer you never come home. If you can do only +one of the things I asked, please do the first one. +Yours truly, Georgina Huntingdon."</p> + +<p>Having blotted the letter, Georgina read it over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +carefully, finding two words that did not look quite +right, although she did not know what was the matter +with them. So she called softly out of the window +again to Belle:</p> + +<p>"How do you spell diseases?"</p> + +<p>Belle told her but added the question, "Why do +you ask a word like that? Whose diseases can you +be writing about?"</p> + +<p>Georgina drew in her head without answering. +She could not seek help in that quarter again, especially +for such a word as "orfan." After studying +over it a moment she remembered there was a poem +in "Songs for the Little Ones at Home," called "The +Orphan Nosegay Girl."</p> + +<p>A trip downstairs for the tattered volume gave +her the word she wanted, and soon the misspelled +one was scratched out and rewritten. There were +now three unsightly blots on the letter and she hovered +over them a moment, her pride demanding that +she should make a clean, fair copy. But it seemed +such an endless task to rewrite it from beginning to +end, that she finally decided to send it as it stood.</p> + +<p>Addressed, stamped and sealed, it was ready at +last and she dropped it into the mail-box. Then +she had a moment of panic. It was actually started +on its way to Hong-Kong and nothing in her power +could stop it or bring it back. She wondered if she +hadn't done exactly the wrong thing, and made a +bad matter worse.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>PEGGY JOINS THE RAINBOW-MAKERS</div> + + +<div class='cap'>ONLY one more thing happened before Barby's +return that is worth recording. Georgina went +to spend the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'way'">day</ins> at the Gray Inn. Captain Burrell, +himself, came to ask her. Peggy had to be put back +into her brace again he said. He was afraid it had +been taken off too soon. She was very uncomfortable +and unhappy on account of it. They would be +leaving in the morning, much earlier than they had +intended, because it was necessary for her physician +to see her at once, and quite probable that she would +have to go back to the sanitarium for a while. She +didn't want to leave Provincetown, because she did +not want to go away from Georgina.</div> + +<p>"You have no idea how she admires you," the +Captain added, "or how she tries to copy you. Her +dream of perfect happiness is to look and act just +like you. Yesterday she made her mother tie a big +pink bow on her poor little cropped head because +you passed by wearing one on your curls. You can +cheer her up more than anyone else in the world."</p> + +<p>So Georgina, touched both by the Captain's evident +distress over Peggy's returning lameness, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +Peggy's fondness for her, went gladly. The knowledge +that everything she said and did was admired, +made it easy for her to entertain the child, and the +pity that welled up in her heart every time she +watched the thin little body move around in the tiresome +brace, made her long to do something that +would really ease the burden of such a misfortune.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Burrell was busy packing all morning, and +in the afternoon went down the street to do some +shopping that their hurried departure made necessary. +Peggy brought out her post-card album, in +which to fasten all the postals she had added to her +collection while on the Cape. Among them was one +of the Figurehead House, showing "Hope" perched +over the portico.</p> + +<p>"Bailey says that's a sea-cook," Peggy explained +gravely. "A sea-cook who was such a wooden-head +that when he made doughnuts they turned green. +He's got one in his hand that he's about to heave +into the sea."</p> + +<p>"Oh, horrors! No!" exclaimed Georgina, as scandalized +as if some false report had been circulated +about one of her family.</p> + +<p>"That is Hope with a wreath in her hand, looking +up with her head held high, just as she did when +she was on the prow of a gallant ship. Whenever +I have any trouble or disappointment I think of her, +and she helps me to bear up and be brave, and go +on as if nothing had happened."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How?" asked Peggy, gazing with wondering +eyes at the picture of the figurehead, which was too +small on the postal to be very distinct. Anything +that Georgina respected and admired so deeply, +Peggy wanted to respect and admire in the same +way, but it was puzzling to understand just what it +was that Georgina saw in that wooden figure to make +her feel so. Accustomed to thinking of it in Bailey's +way, as a sea-cook with a doughnut, it was hard to +switch around to a point of view that showed it as +Hope with a wreath, or to understand how it could +help one to be brave about anything.</p> + +<p>Something of her bewilderment crept into the +wondering "why," and Georgina hesitated, a bit puzzled +herself. It was hard to explain to a child two +years younger what had been taught to her by the +old Towncrier.</p> + +<p>"You wait till I run home and get my prism," +she answered. "Then I can show you right away, +and we can play a new kind of tag game with it."</p> + +<p>Before Peggy could protest that she would rather +have her question unanswered than be left alone, +Georgina was off and running up the beach as fast +as her little white shoes could carry her. Her cheeks +were as red as the coral necklace she wore, when she +came back breathless from her flying trip.</p> + +<p>There followed a few moments of rapture for +Peggy, when the beautiful crystal pendant was placed +in her own hands, and she looked through it into a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +world transformed by the magic of its coloring. +She saw the room changed in a twinkling, as when +a fairy wand transforms a mantle of homespun to +cloth-of-gold. Through the open window she saw +an enchanted harbor filled with a fleet of rainbows. +Every sail was outlined with one, every mast edged +with lines of red and gold and blue. And while she +looked, and at the same time listened, Georgina's +explanation caught some of the same glamor, and +sank deep into her tender little heart.</p> + +<p>That was the way that <i>she</i> could change the world +for people she loved—put a rainbow around their +troubles by being so cheery and hopeful that everything +would be brighter just because she was there. +To keep Hope at the prow simply meant that she +mustn't get discouraged about her knee. No matter +how much it hurt her or the brace bothered her, +she must bear up and steer right on. To do that +bravely, without any fretting, was the surest way in +the world to put a rainbow around her father's +troubles.</p> + +<p>Thus Georgina mixed her "line to live by" and her +prism philosophy, but it was clear enough to the +child who listened with heart as well as ears. And +clear enough to the man who sat just outside the +open window on the upper porch, with his pipe, listening +also as he gazed off to sea.</p> + +<p>"The poor little lamb," he said to himself. "To<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +think of that baby trying to bear up and be brave on +<i>my</i> account! It breaks me all up."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later as he started across the hall, +Peggy, seeing him pass her door, called to him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy! Come look through this wonderful +fairy glass. You'll think the whole world is bewitched."</p> + +<p>She was lying back in a long steamer chair, and impatient +to reach him, she started to climb out as he +entered the room. But she had not grown accustomed +to the brace again, and she stumbled clumsily +on account of it. He caught her just in time to save +her from falling, but the prism, the shining crystal +pendant, dropped from her hands and struck the +rocker of a chair in its fall to the floor.</p> + +<p>She gave a frightened cry, and stood holding her +breath while Georgina stooped and picked it up. +It was in two pieces now. The long, radiant point, +cut in many facets like a diamond, was broken off.</p> + +<p>Georgina, pale and trembling at this sudden destruction +of her greatest treasure, turned her back, +and for one horrible moment it was all she could do +to keep from bursting out crying. Peggy, seeing her +turn away and realizing all that her awkwardness +was costing Georgina, buried her face on her father's +shoulder and went into such a wild paroxysm of sobbing +and crying that all his comforting failed to comfort +her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I wish I'd <i>died</i> first," she wailed. "She'll +never love me again. She said it was her most precious +treasure, and now I've broken it——"</p> + +<p>"There, there, there," soothed the Captain, patting +the thin little arm reached up to cling around +his neck. "Georgina knows it was an accident. She's +going to forgive my poor little Peggykins for what +she couldn't help. She doesn't mind its being broken +as much as you think."</p> + +<p>He looked across at Georgina, appealingly, helplessly. +Peggy's grief was so uncontrollable he was +growing alarmed. Georgina wanted to cry out:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>do</i> mind! How can you say that? I can't +stand it to have my beautiful, beautiful prism +ruined!"</p> + +<p>She was only a little girl herself, with no comforting +shoulder to run to. But something came to her +help just then. She remembered the old silver porringer +with its tall, slim-looped letters. She remembered +there were some things she could not do. She +<i>had</i> to be brave now, because her name had been +written around that shining rim through so many +brave generations. She could not deepen the hurt of +this poor little thing already nearly frantic over what +she had done. Tippy's early lessons carried her +gallantly through now. She ran across the room to +where Peggy sat on her father's knee, and put an +arm around her.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Peggy," she said brightly. "There's a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +piece of prism for each of us now. Isn't that nice? +You take one and I'll keep the other, and that will +make you a member of our club. We call it the +Rainbow Club, and we're running a race seeing who +can make the most bright spots in the world, by making +people happy. There's just four members in it +so far; Richard and me and the president of the +bank and Mr. Locke, the artist, who made the pictures +in your blue and gold fairy-tale book. And +you can be the fifth. But you'll have to begin this +minute by stopping your crying, or you can't belong. +What did I tell you about fretting?"</p> + +<p>And Peggy stopped. Not instantly, she couldn't +do that after such a hard spell. The big sobs kept +jerking her for a few minutes no matter how hard +she tried to <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'stiffle'">stifle</ins> them; but she sat up and let her +father wipe her face on his big handkerchief, and +she smiled her bravest, to show that she was worthy +of membership in the new club.</p> + +<p>The Captain suddenly drew Georgina to his other +knee and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"You blessed little rainbow maker!" he exclaimed. +"I'd like to join your club myself. What a happy +world this would be if everybody belonged to it."</p> + +<p>Peggy clasped her hands together beseechingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>please</i> let him belong, Georgina. I'll lend +him my piece of prism half the time."</p> + +<p>"Of course he can," consented Georgina. "But he +can belong without having a prism. Grown people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +don't need anything to help them remember about +making good times in the world."</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said the Captain, as if he were talking +to himself. Georgina, looking at him shyly from +the corner of her eye, wondered what it was he wondered.</p> + +<p>It was almost supper time when she went home. +She had kept the upper half of the prism which had +the hole in it, and it dangled from her neck on the +pink ribbon as she walked.</p> + +<p>"If only Barby could have seen it first," she +mourned. "I wouldn't mind it so much. But she'll +never know how beautiful it was."</p> + +<p>But every time that thought came to her it was +followed by a recollection which made her tingle +with happiness. It was the Captain's deep voice saying +tenderly, "You blessed little rainbow-maker!"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/i017.png" width="450" height="183" alt="girl walking dog" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A MODERN "ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON"</div> + + +<div class='cap'>BARBY was at home again. Georgina, hearing +the jangle of a bell, ran down the street to meet +the old Towncrier with the news. She knew now, +how he felt when he wanted to go through the town +ringing his bell and calling out the good tidings +about his Danny to all the world. That's the way +she felt her mother's home-coming ought to be proclaimed. +It was such a joyful thing to have her back +again.</div> + +<p>And Grandfather Shirley wasn't going to be blind, +Georgina confided in her next breath. The sight of +both eyes would be all right in time. They were so +thankful about that. And Barby had brought her +the darlingest little pink silk parasol ever made or +dreamed of, all the way from Louisville, and some +beaten biscuit and a comb of honey from the beehives +in her old home garden.</p> + +<p>It was wonderful how much news Georgina managed +to crowd into the short time that it took to +walk back to the gate. The Burrells had left town +and Belle had gone home, and Richard had sent her +a postal card from Bar Harbor with a snapshot of +himself and Captain Kidd on it. And—she lowered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +her voice almost to a whisper as she told the +next item:</p> + +<p>"Barby knows about Danny! Belle said I might +tell her if she'd promise not to let it get back to Mr. +Potter."</p> + +<p>They had reached the house by this time, and +Georgina led him in to Barby who rose to welcome +him with both hands outstretched.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Uncle Darcy," she exclaimed. "I know—and +I'm <i>so</i> glad. And Justin will be, too. I sent +Georgina's letter to him the very day it came. I +knew he'd be so interested, and it can do no harm +for him to know, away off there in the interior of +China."</p> + +<p>Georgina was startled, remembering the letter +which <i>she</i> had sent to the interior of China. Surely +her father wouldn't send that back to Barby! Such +a panic seized her at the bare possibility of such a +thing, that she did not hear Uncle Darcy's reply. +She wondered what Barby would say if it should +come back to her. Then she recalled what had happened +the first few moments of Barby's return and +wondered what made her think of it.</p> + +<p>Barby's first act on coming into the house, was +to walk over to the old secretary where the mail +was always laid, and look to see if any letters were +waiting there for her. And that was before she +had even stopped to take off her veil or gloves. +There were three which had arrived that morning,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +but she only glanced at them and tossed them aside. +The one she wanted wasn't there. Georgina had +turned away and pretended that she wasn't watching, +but she was, and for a moment she felt that +the sun had gone behind a cloud, Barby looked +so disappointed.</p> + +<p>But it was only for a moment, for Barby immediately +began to tell about an amusing experience +she had had on her way home, and started upstairs +to take off her hat, with Georgina tagging after to +ask a thousand questions, just as she had been tagging +ever since.</p> + +<p>And later she had thrown her arms around her +mother, exclaiming as she held her fast, "You haven't +changed a single bit, Barby," and Barby answered +gaily:</p> + +<p>"What did you expect, dearest, in a few short +weeks? White hair and spectacles?"</p> + +<p>"But it doesn't seem like a few short weeks," +sighed Georgina. "It seems as if years full of things +had happened, and that I'm as old as you are."</p> + +<p>Now as Uncle Darcy recounted some of these +happenings, and Barby realized how many strange +experiences Georgina had lived through during her +absence, how many new acquaintances she had made +and how much she had been allowed to go about +by herself, she understood why the child felt so +much older. She understood still better that night +as she sat brushing Georgina's curls. The little girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +on the footstool at her knee was beginning to reach +up—was beginning to ask questions about the strange +grown-up world whose sayings and doings are always +so puzzling to little heads.</p> + +<p>"Barby," she asked hesitatingly, "what do people +mean exactly, when they say they have other +fish to fry?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, just other business to attend to or something +else they'd rather do."</p> + +<p>"But when they shrug their shoulders at the same +time," persisted Georgina.</p> + +<p>"A shrug can stand for almost anything," answered +Barby. "Sometimes it says meaner things +than words can convey."</p> + +<p>Then came the inevitable question which made +Georgina wish that she had not spoken.</p> + +<p>"But why do you ask, dear? Tell me how the expression +was used, and I can explain better."</p> + +<p>Now Georgina could not understand why she had +brought up the subject. It had been uppermost in +her mind all evening, but every time it reached the +tip of her tongue she drove it back. That is, until +this last time. Then it seemed to say itself. Having +gone this far she could not lightly change the subject +as an older person might have done. Barby +was waiting for an answer. It came in a moment, +halting but truthful.</p> + +<p>"That day I was at the Bazaar, you know, and +everybody was saying how nice I looked, dressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +up like a little girl of long ago, I heard Mrs. Whitman +say to Miss Minnis that one would think that +Justin Huntingdon would want to come home once +or twice in a lifetime to see me; and Miss Minnis +shrugged her shoulders, this way, and said:</p> + +<p>"'Oh, he has other fish to fry.'"</p> + +<p>Georgina, with her usual aptitude for mimicry, +made the shrug so eloquent that Barby understood +exactly what Miss Minnis intended to convey, and +what it had meant to the wondering child.</p> + +<p>"Miss Minnis is an old cat!" she exclaimed impatiently. +Then she laid down the brush, and gathering +Georgina's curls into one hand, turned her +head so that she could look into the troubled little +face.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Baby," she demanded. "Have you +heard anyone else say things like that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," admitted Georgina, "several times. And +yesterday a woman who came into the bakery while +I was getting the rolls Tippy sent me for, asked me +if I was Doctor Huntingdon's little girl. And when +I said yes, she asked me when he was coming home."</p> + +<p>"And what did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought she hadn't any right to ask, specially +in the way she made her question sound. She +doesn't belong in this town, anyhow. She's only one +of the summer boarders. So I drew myself up the +way the Duchess always did in 'The Fortunes of +Romney Tower.' Don't you remember? and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +said, 'It will probably be some time, Madam.' Then +I took up my bag of hot rolls and marched out. I +think that word Madam always sounds so freezing, +when you say it the way the Duchess was always doing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you ridiculous baby!" exclaimed Barby, +clasping her close and kissing her again and again. +Then seeing the trouble still lingering in the big +brown eyes, she took the little face between her hands +and looked into it long and intently, as if reading +her thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Georgina," she said presently, "I understand +now, what is the matter. You're wondering the same +thing about your father that these busybodies are. +It's my fault though. I took it for granted that +you understood about his long absence. I never +dreamed that it was hurting you in any way."</p> + +<p>Georgina hid her face in Barby's lap, her silence +proof enough that her mother had guessed aright. +For a moment or two Barby's hand strayed caressingly +over the bowed head. Then she said:</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you remember this old story I used +to tell you, beginning, 'St. George of Merry England +was the youngest and the bravest of the seven +champions of Christendom. Clad in bright armor +with his magic sword Ascalon by his side, he used +to travel on his war horse in far countries in search +of adventure.' Do you remember that?"</p> + +<p>Georgina nodded yes without raising her head.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you remember he came to a beach where +the Princess Saba called to him to flee, because the +Dragon, the most terrible monster ever seen on +earth, was about to come up out of the sea and destroy +the city. Every year it came up to do this, +and only the sacrifice of a beautiful maiden could +stop it from destroying the people.</p> + +<p>"But undismayed, Saint George refused to flee. +He stayed on and fought the dragon, and wounded +it, and bound it with the maiden's sash and led it +into the market place where it was finally killed. +And the people were forever freed from the terrible +monster because of his prowess. Do you remember +all that?"</p> + +<p>Again Georgina nodded. She knew the story well. +Every Christmas as far back as she could remember +she had eaten her bit of plum pudding from a +certain rare old blue plate, on which was the picture +of Saint George, the dragon and the Princess.</p> + +<p>"Nowadays," Barby went on, "because men do not +ride around 'clad in bright armor,' doing knightly +deeds, people do not recognize them as knights. But +your father is doing something that is just as great +and just as brave as any of the deeds of any knight +who ever drew a sword. Over in foreign ports +where he has been stationed, is a strange disease +which seems to rise out of the marshes every year, +just as the dragon did, and threaten the health and +the lives of the people. It is especially bad on ship-board,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +and it is really harder to fight than a real +dragon would be, because it is an invisible foe, a +sickness that comes because of a tiny, unseen microbe.</p> + +<p>"Your father has watched it, year after year, attacking +not only the sailors of foreign navies but +our own men, when they have to live in those ports, +and he made up his mind to go on a quest for this +invisible monster, and kill it if possible. It is such +a very important quest that the Government was +glad to grant him a year's leave of absence from the +service.</p> + +<p>"He was about to come home to see us first, when +he met an old friend, a very wealthy Englishman, +who has spent the greater part of his life collecting +rare plants and studying their habits. He has written +several valuable books on Botany, and the last +ten years he has been especially interested in the +plants of China. He was getting ready to go to the +very places that your father was planning to visit, +and he had with him an interpreter and a young +American assistant. When he invited your father to +join him it was an opportunity too great to be refused. +This Mr. Bowles is familiar with the country +and the people, even speaks the language himself +a little. He had letters to many of the high +officials, and could be of the greatest assistance to +your father in many ways, even though he did not +stay with the party. He could always be in communication +with it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So, of course, he accepted the invitation. It is +far better for the quest and far better for himself +to be with such companions.</p> + +<p>"I am not uneasy about him, knowing he has +friends within call in case of sickness and accident, +and he will probably be able to accomplish his purpose +more quickly with the help they will be able to +give. You know he has to go off into all sorts of +dirty, uncomfortable places, risk his own health and +safety, go among the sick and suffering where he +can watch the progress of the disease under different +conditions.</p> + +<p>"The whole year may be spent in a vain search, +with nothing to show for it at the end, and even if +he is successful and finds the cause of this strange illness +and a remedy, his only reward will be the satisfaction +of knowing he has done something to relieve +the suffering of his fellow-creatures. People +can understand the kind of bravery that shows. If +he were rescuing one person from a burning house +or a sinking boat they would cry out, 'What a hero.' +But they don't seem to appreciate this kind of rescue +work. It will do a thousand times more good, +because it will free the whole navy from the teeth +of the dragon.</p> + +<p>"If there were a war, people would not expect him +to come home. We are giving him up to his country +now, just as truly as if he were in the midst of battle. +A soldier's wife and a soldier's daughter—it is the +proof of our love and loyalty, Georgina, to bear his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +long absence cheerfully, no matter how hard that is +to do; to be proud that he can serve his country if +not with his sword, with the purpose and prowess of +a Saint George."</p> + +<p>Barby's eyes were wet but there was a starry light +in them, as she lifted Georgina's head and kissed her. +Two little arms were thrown impulsively around her +neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Barby! I'm so sorry that I didn't know all +that before! I didn't understand, and I felt real +ugly about it when I heard people whispering and +saying things as if he didn't love us any more. And—when +I said my prayers at bedtime—I didn't sing +'Eternal Father Strong to Save' a single night while +you were gone."</p> + +<p>Comforting arms held her close.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you write and tell mother about it?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to make you feel bad. I was afraid +from what Cousin Mehitable said you were going +to <i>die</i>. I worried and worried over it. Oh, I had +the miserablest time!"</p> + +<p>Another kiss interrupted her. "But you'll never +do that way again, Georgina. Promise me that no +matter what happens you'll come straight to me +and have it set right."</p> + +<p>The promise was given, with what remorse and +penitence no one could know but Georgina, recalling +the letter she had written, beginning with a stern +"Dear Sir." But to justify herself, she asked after +the hair-brushing had begun again:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But Barby, why has he stayed away from home +four whole years? He wasn't hunting dragons before +this, was he?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I thought you understood that, too. He +didn't come back here to the Cape because there were +important things which kept him in Washington during +his furloughs. Maybe you were too small to remember +that the time you and I were spending the +summer in Kentucky he had planned to join us there. +But he wired that his best friend in the Navy, an old +Admiral, was at the point of death, and didn't want +him to leave him. The Admiral had befriended him +in so many ways when he first went into the service +that there was nothing else for your father to do but +stay with him as long as he was needed. You were +only six then, and I was afraid the long, hot trip +might make you sick, so I left you with mamma while +I went on for several weeks. Surely you remember +something of that time."</p> + +<p>"No, just being in Kentucky is all I remember, +and your going away for a while."</p> + +<p>"And the next time some business affairs of his +own kept him in Washington, something very important. +You were just getting over the measles +and I didn't dare take you, so you stayed with Tippy. +So you see it wasn't your father's fault that he didn't +see you. He had expected you to be brought down +to Washington."</p> + +<p>Georgina pondered over the explanation a while,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +then presently said with a sigh, "Goodness me, how +easy it is to look at things the wrong way."</p> + +<p>Soon after her voice blended with Barby's in a +return to the long neglected bedtime rite:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For those in peril on the sea."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>Afterward, her troubles all smoothed and explained +away, she lay in the dark, comforted and +at peace with the world. Once a little black doubt +thrust its head up like a snake, to remind her of +Melindy's utterance, "When a man <i>wants</i> to write, +he's gwine to write, busy or no busy." But even +that found an explanation in her thoughts.</p> + +<p>Of course, Melindy meant just ordinary men. +Not those who had great deeds to do in the world +like her father. Probably Saint George himself +hadn't written to his family often, if he had a family. +He couldn't be expected to. He had "other fish +to fry," and it was perfectly right and proper for +him to put his mind on the frying of them to the neglect +of everything else.</p> + +<p>The four months' long silence was unexplained +save for this comforting thought, but Georgina worried +about it no longer. Up from below came the +sound of keys touched softly as Barby sang an old +lullaby. She sang it in a glad, trustful sort of way.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>He is far across the sea,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But he's coming home to me,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Baby mine!</span></i>" +</div> + +<p>Lying there in the dark, Georgina composed another +letter to send after her first one, and next +morning this is what she wrote, sitting up in the +willow tree with a magazine on her knees for a writing +table:</p> + +<p>"Dearest Father: I am sorry that I wrote that last +letter, because everything is different from what I +thought it was. I did not know until Barby came +home and told me, that you are just as brave as St. +George was, clad in bright armor, when he went to +rescue the people from the dragon. I hope you get +the monster that comes up out of the sea every year +after the poor sailors. Barby says we are giving +you to our country in this way, as much as if there +was war, so now I'm prouder of having a St.-George-and-the-dragon-kind +of a father than one like +Peggy Burrell's, even if she does know him well +enough to call him 'Dad-o'-my-heart.' Even if people +don't understand, and say things about your never +coming home to see us, we are going to 'still bear +up and steer right onward,' because that's our line +to live by. And we hope as hard as we can every +day, that you'll get the mike-robe you are in kwest of. +Your loving little daughter, Georgina Huntingdon."</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE DOCTOR'S DISCOVERY</div> + + +<div class='cap'>IN due time the letter written in the willow tree +reached the city of Hong-Kong, and was carried +to the big English hotel, overlooking the loveliest +of Chinese harbors. But it was not delivered to +Doctor Huntingdon. It was piled on top of all the +other mail which lay there, awaiting his return. +Under it was Georgina's first letter to him and the +one she had written to her mother about Dan Darcy +and the rifle. And under that was the one which +Barbara called the "rainbow letter," and then at +least half a dozen from Barbara herself, with the +beautiful colored photograph of the Towncrier and +his lass. Also there were several bundles of official-looking +documents and many American newspapers.</div> + +<p>Nothing had been forwarded to him for two +months, because he had left instructions to hold his +mail until further notice. The first part of that time +he was moving constantly from one out-of-the-way +place to another where postal delivery was slow and +uncertain. The last part of that time he was lying +ill in the grip of the very disease which he had gone +out to study and to conquer.</p> + +<p>He was glad then to be traveling in the wake of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +the friendly old Englishman and his party. Through +their interpreter, arrangements were made to have +him carried to one of the tents of a primitive sort +of a hospital, kept by some native missionaries. +The Englishman's young assistant went with him. +He was a quiet fellow whom Mr. Bowles had jokingly +dubbed David the silent, because it was so hard +to make him talk. But Doctor Huntingdon, a reserved, +silent man himself, had been attracted to him +by that very trait.</p> + +<p>During the months they had been thrown together +so much, Dave had taken great interest in the Doctor's +reports of the experiments he was making in +treating the disease. When the Doctor was told +that Mr. Bowles had gone back to the coast, having +found what he wanted and made his notes for his +next book, and consequently Dave was free to stay +and nurse him, he gave a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>Dave stopped his thanks almost gruffly.</p> + +<p>"There's more than one reason for my staying," +he said. "I've been sick among strangers in a strange +country, myself, and I know how it feels. Besides, +I'm interested in seeing if this new treatment of +yours works out on a white man as well as it did on +these natives. I'll be doing as much in the way of +scientific research, keeping a chart on you, as if I +were taking notes for Mr. Bowles."</p> + +<p>That was a long speech for Dave, the longest that +he made during the Doctor's illness. But in the days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +which followed, one might well have wondered if +there was not a greater reason than those he offered +for such devoted attendance. He was always within +call, always so quick to notice a want that usually a +wish was gratified before it could be expressed. His +was a devotion too constant to be prompted merely +by sympathy for a fellow-country-man or interest in +medical experiments.</p> + +<p>Once, when the Doctor was convalescing, he +opened his eyes to find his silent attendant sitting beside +him reading, and studied him for some time, +unobserved.</p> + +<p>"Dave," he said, after watching him a while—"it's +the queerest thing—lately every time I look at you +I'm reminded of home. You must resemble someone +I used to know back there, but for the life of me +I can't recall who."</p> + +<p>Dave answered indifferently, without glancing up +from the page.</p> + +<p>"There's probably a thousand fellows that look +like me. I'm medium height and about every third +person you see back in the States has gray eyes like +mine, and just the ordinary every-day sort of features +that I have."</p> + +<p>The Doctor made no answer. It never would have +occurred to him to tell Dave in what way his face +differed from the many others of his type. There +was a certain kindliness of twinkle in the gray eyes +at times, and always a straightforward honesty of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +gaze that made one instinctively trust him. There +was strength of purpose in the resolute set of his +mouth, and one could not imagine him being turned +back on any road which he had made up his mind to +travel to the end.</p> + +<p>Several days after that when the Doctor was sitting +up outside the tent, the resemblance to someone +whom he could not recall, puzzled him again. Dave +was whittling, his lips pursed up as he whistled softly +in an absent-minded sort of way.</p> + +<p>"Dave," exclaimed the Doctor, "there's something +in the way you sit there, whittling and whistling that +brings little old Provincetown right up before my +eyes. I can see old Captain Ames sitting there on +the wharf on a coil of rope, whittling just as you +are doing, and joking with Sam and the crew as they +pile into the boat to go out to the weirs. I can see +the nets spread out to dry alongshore, and smell tar +and codfish as plain as if it were here right under +my nose. And down in Fishburn Court there's the little +house that was always a second home to me, with +Uncle Darcy pottering around in the yard, singing +his old sailors' songs."</p> + +<p>The Doctor closed his eyes and drew in a long, +slow breath.</p> + +<p>"Um! There's the most delicious smell coming +out of that kitchen—blueberry pies that Aunt Elspeth's +baking. What wouldn't I give this minute for +one of those good, juicy blueberry pies of hers, smoking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +hot. I can smell it clear over here in China. +There never was anything in the world that tasted +half so good. I was always tagging around after +Uncle Darcy, as I called him. He was the Towncrier, +and one of those staunch, honest souls who +make you believe in the goodness of God and man +no matter what happens to shake the foundations of +your faith."</p> + +<p>The Doctor opened his eyes and looked up inquiringly, +startled by the knocking over of the stool +on which Dave had been sitting. He had risen abruptly +and gone inside the tent.</p> + +<p>"Go on," he called back. "I can hear you."</p> + +<p>He seemed to be looking for something, for he was +striding up and down in its narrow space. The Doctor +raised his voice a trifle.</p> + +<p>"That's all I had to say. I didn't intend to bore +you talking about people and places you never heard +of. But it just came over me in a big wave—that +feeling of homesickness that makes you feel you've +got to get back or die. Did you ever have it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," came the answer in an indifferent tone. +"Several times."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's got me now, right by the throat."</p> + +<p>Presently he called, "Dave, while you're in there +I wish you'd look in my luggage and see what newspapers +are folded up with it. I have a dim recollection +that a <i>Provincetown Advocate</i> came about +the time I was taken sick and I never opened it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, that's it!" he exclaimed when Dave emerged +presently, holding out the newspaper. "Look at the +cut across the top of the first page. Old Provincetown +itself. It's more for the name of the town +printed across that picture of the harbor than for the +news that I keep on taking the paper. Ordinarily, +I never do more than glance at the news items, but +there's time to-day to read even the advertisements. +You've no idea how good those familiar old names +look to me."</p> + +<p>He read some of them aloud, smiling over the +memories they awakened. But he read without an +auditor, for Dave found he had business with one +of the missionaries, and put off to attend to it. On +his return he was greeted with the announcement:</p> + +<p>"Dave, I want to get out of here. I'm sure there +must be a big pile of mail waiting for me right now +in Hong-Kong, and I'm willing to risk the trip. Let's +start back to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Several days later they were in Hong-Kong, enjoying +the luxuries of civilization in the big hotel. +Still weak from his recent illness and fatigued by +the hardships of his journey, Doctor Huntingdon +did not go down to lunch the day of their arrival. +It was served in his room, and as he ate he stopped +at intervals to take another dip into the pile of mail +which had been brought up to him.</p> + +<p>In his methodical way he opened the letters in the +order of their arrival, beginning with the one whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +postmark showed the earliest date. It took a long +time to finish eating on account of these pauses. Hop +Ching was bringing in his coffee when Dave came +back, having had not only his lunch in the dining-room, +but a stroll through the streets afterward. +He found Doctor Huntingdon with a photograph +propped up in front of him, studying it intently while +Hop Ching served the coffee. The Doctor passed +the photograph to Dave.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;"> +<img src="images/i025.jpg" width="388" height="600" alt="the Town Crier and his lass" /> +</div> + +<p>"Take it over to the window where you can get a +good light on it," he commanded. "Isn't that a +peach of a picture? That's my little daughter and +the old friend I'm always quoting. The two seem +to be as great chums as he and I used to be. I don't +want to bore you, Dave, but I would like to read you +this letter that she wrote to her mother, and her +mother sent on to me. In the first place I'm proud +of her writing such a letter. I had no idea she could +express herself so well, and secondly the subject matter +makes it an interesting document.</p> + +<p>"On my little girl's birthday Uncle Darcy took +her out in his boat, <i>The Betsey</i>. The name of that +old boat certainly does sound good to me! He told +her—but wait! I'd rather read it to you in her own +words. It'll give you such a good idea of the old +man. Perhaps I ought to explain that he had a son +who got into trouble some ten years ago, and left +home. He was just a little chap when I saw him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +last, hardly out of dresses, the fall I left home for +college.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Darcy and Aunt Elspeth were fairly foolish +about him. He had come into their lives late, +you see, after their older children died. I don't believe +it would make any difference to them what he'd +do. They would welcome him back from the very +gallows if he'd only come. His mother never has +believed he did anything wrong, and the hope of the +old man's life is that his 'Danny,' as he calls him, +will make good in some way—do something to wipe +out the stain on his name and come back to him."</p> + +<p>The Doctor paused as if waiting for some encouragement +to read.</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Dave. "I'd like to hear it, best in +the world."</p> + +<p>He turned his chair so that he could look out of +the window at the harbor. The Chinese sampans +of every color were gliding across the water like a +flock of gaily-hued swans. He seemed to be dividing +his attention between those native boats and the +letter when the Doctor first began to read. It was +Georgina's rainbow letter, and the colors of the rainbow +were repeated again and again by the reds and +yellows and blues of that fleet of sampans.</p> + +<p>But as the Doctor read on Dave listened more intently, +so intently, in fact, that he withdrew his attention +entirely from the window, and leaning forward,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting +on his knees. The Doctor found him in this attitude +when he looked up at the end, expecting some +sort of comment. He was used to Dave's silences, +but he had thought this surely would call forth some +remark. Then as he studied the bowed figure, it +flashed into his mind that the letter must have +touched some chord in the boy's own past. Maybe +Dave had an old father somewhere, longing for his +return, and the memory was breaking him all up.</p> + +<p>Silently, the Doctor turned aside to the pile of letters +still unread. Georgina's stern little note beginning +"Dear Sir" was the next in order and was in +such sharp contrast to the loving, intimate way she +addressed her mother, that he felt the intended reproach +of it, even while it amused and surprised him. +But it hurt a little. It wasn't pleasant to have his +only child regard him as a stranger. It was fortunate +that the next letter was the one in which she +hastened to call him "a Saint-George-and-the-dragon +sort of father."</p> + +<p>When he read Barbara's explanation of his long +silence and Georgina's quick acceptance of it, he +wanted to take them both in his arms and tell them +how deeply he was touched by their love and loyalty; +that he hadn't intended to be neglectful of them or so +absorbed in his work that he put it first in his life. +But it was hard for him to put such things into words, +either written or spoken. He had left too much to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +be taken for granted he admitted remorsefully to +himself.</p> + +<p>For a long time he sat staring sternly into space. +So people had been gossiping about him, had they? +And Barbara and the baby had heard the whispers +and been hurt by them——He'd go home and put a +stop to it. He straightened himself up and turned +to report his sudden decision to Dave. But the chair +by the window was empty. The Doctor glanced over +his shoulder. Dave had changed his seat and was +sitting behind him. They were back to back, but a +mirror hung in such a way the Doctor could see +Dave's face.</p> + +<p>With arms crossed on a little table in front of +him, he was leaning forward for another look at the +photograph which he had propped up against a vase. +A hungry yearning was in his face as he bent towards +it, gazing into it as if he could not look his +fill. Suddenly his head went down on his crossed +arms in such a hopeless fashion that in a flash +Doctor Huntingdon divined the reason, and recognized +the resemblance that had haunted him. Now +he understood why the boy had stayed behind to +nurse him. Now a dozen trifling incidents that had +seemed of no importance to him at the time, confirmed +his suspicion.</p> + +<p>His first impulse was to cry out "<i>Dan!</i>" but his +life-long habit of repression checked him. He felt +he had no right to intrude on the privacy which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +boy guarded so jealously. But Uncle Darcy's son! +Off here in a foreign land, bowed down with remorse +and homesickness! How he must have been tortured +with all that talk of the old town and its +people!</p> + +<p>A great wave of pity and yearning tenderness +swept through the Doctor's heart as he sat twisted +around in his chair, staring at that reflection in the +mirror. He was uncertain what he ought to do. He +longed to go to him with some word of comfort, but +he shrank from the thought of saying anything +which would seem an intrusion.</p> + +<p>Finally he rose, and walking across the room, laid +his hand on the bowed shoulder with a sympathetic +pressure.</p> + +<p>"Look here, my boy," he said, in his deep, quiet +voice. "I'm not asking you what the trouble is, but +whatever it is you'll let me help you, won't you? +You've given me the right to ask that by all you've +done for me. Anything I could do would be only +too little for one who has stood by me the way you +have. I want you to feel that I'm your friend in the +deepest meaning of that word. You can count on me +for anything." Then in a lighter tone as he gave the +shoulder a half-playful slap he added, "I'm <i>for</i> you, +son."</p> + +<p>The younger man raised his head and straightened +himself up in his chair.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't be!" he exclaimed, "if you knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +who I am." Then he blurted out the confession: +"I'm Dan Darcy. I can't let you go on believing in +me when you talk like that."</p> + +<p>"But I knew it when I said what I did," interrupted +Doctor Huntingdon. "It flashed over me +first when I saw you looking at your father's picture. +No man could look at a stranger's face that way. +Then I knew what the resemblance was that has +puzzled me ever since I met you. The only wonder +to me is that I did not see it long ago."</p> + +<p>"You knew it," repeated Dan slowly, "and yet +you told me to count you as a friend in the deepest +meaning of that word. How could you mean it?"</p> + +<p>The Doctor's answer came with deep impressiveness.</p> + +<p>"Because, despite whatever slip you may have +made as a boy of eighteen, you have grown into a +man worthy of such a friendship. A surgeon in my +position learns to read character, learns to know an +honest man when he sees one. No matter what lies +behind you that you regret, I have every confidence +in you now, Dan. I am convinced you are worthy +to be the son of even such a man as Daniel Darcy."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand to have it taken in a long, +silent grip that made it ache.</p> + +<p>"Come on and go back home with me," urged the +Doctor. "You've made good out here. Do the +brave thing now and go back and live down the past. +It'll make the old folks so happy it'll wipe out the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +heart-break of all those years that you've been +away."</p> + +<p>Dan's only response was another grasp of the +Doctor's hand as strong and as painful as the first. +Pulling himself up by it he stood an instant trying +to say something, then, too overcome to utter a word, +made a dash for the door.</p> + +<p>Doctor Huntingdon was so stirred by the scene +that he found it difficult to go back to his letters, but +the very next one in order happened to be the one +Georgina wrote to her mother just after Belle had +given her consent to Barby's being told of Emmett's +confession. He read the latter part of it, standing, +for he had sprung to his feet with the surprise of its +opening sentence. He did not even know that Emmett +had been dead all these years, and Dan, who +had had no word from home during all his absence, +could not know it either. He was in a tremor of +eagerness to hurry to him with the news, but he +waited to scan the rest of the letter.</p> + +<p>Then with it fluttering open in his hand he strode +across the hall and burst into Dan's room without +knocking.</p> + +<p>"Pack up your junk, this minute, boy," he shouted. +"We take the first boat out of here for home. Look +at this!"</p> + +<p>He thrust Georgina's letter before Dan's bewildered +eyes.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WHILE THEY WAITED</div> + + +<div class='cap'>"THERE comes the boy from the telegraph +office." Mrs. Triplett spoke with such a +raven-like note of foreboding in her voice that Georgina, +practising her daily scales, let her hands fall +limply from the keys.</div> + +<p>"The Tishbite!" she thought uneasily. What evil +was it about to send into the house now, under cover +of that yellow envelope? Would it take Barby +away from her as it had done before?</p> + +<p>Sitting motionless on the piano stool, she waited +in dread while Mrs. Triplett hurried to the door before +the boy could ring, signed for the message and +silently bore it upstairs. The very fact that she +went up with it herself, instead of calling to Barby +that a message had come, gave Georgina the impression +that it contained bad news.</p> + +<p>"A <i>cablegram</i> for me?" she heard Barby ask. +Then there was a moment's silence in which she +knew the message was being opened and read. Then +there was a murmur as if she were reading it aloud +to Tippy and then—an excited whirlwind of a Barby +flying down the stairs, her eyes like happy stars, her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +arms outstretched to gather Georgina into them, and +her voice half laugh, half sob, singing:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Oh, he's coming home to me<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Baby mine!"</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>Never before had Georgina seen her so radiant, +so excited, so overflowingly happy that she gave vent +to her feelings as a little schoolgirl might have done. +Seizing Georgina in her arms she waltzed her around +the room until she was dizzy. Coming to a pause +at the piano stool she seated herself and played, +"The Year of Jubilee Has Come," in deep, crashing +chords and trickly little runs and trills, till the +old tune was transformed into a paen of jubilation.</p> + +<p>Then she took the message from her belt, where +she had tucked it and re-read it to assure herself of +its reality.</p> + +<p>"Starting home immediately. Stay three months, +dragon captured."</p> + +<p>"That must mean that his quest has been fairly +successful," she said. "If he's found the cause of +the disease it'll be only a matter of time till he finds +how to kill it."</p> + +<p>Then she looked up, puzzled.</p> + +<p>"How strange for him to call it the <i>dragon</i>. +How could he know we'd understand, and that we've +been calling it that?"</p> + +<p>Georgina's time had come for confession.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I wrote him a little note after you told me +the story and told him I was proud of having a +Saint-George-kind of a father, and that we hoped +every day he'd get the microbe."</p> + +<p>"You darling!" exclaimed Barbara, drawing her +to her for another impulsive hug. She did not ask +as Georgina was afraid she would:</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me you were writing to your +father?" Barbara understood, without asking, remembering +the head bowed in her lap after that confession +of her encounter with the prying stranger in +the bakery.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Georgina asked:</p> + +<p>"Barby, what is the 'Tishbite?'"</p> + +<p>"The what?" echoed Barby, wrinkling her forehead +in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Tishbite</i>. Don't you know it says in the +Bible, Elijah and the Tishbite——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, dear, you've turned it around, and put +the and in the wrong place. It is '<i>And</i> Elijah the +Tishbite,' just as we'd say William the Norman or +Manuel the Portuguese."</p> + +<p>"Well, for pity sakes!" drawled Georgina in a +long, slow breath of relief. "Is <i>that</i> all? I wish I'd +known it long ago. It would have saved me a lot of +scary feelings."</p> + +<p>Then she told how she had made the wish on the +star and tried to prove it as Belle had taught her, by +opening the Bible at random.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you had read on," said Barby, "you'd have +found what it meant your own self."</p> + +<p>"But the book shut up before I had a chance," explained +Georgina. "And I never could find the place +again, although I've hunted and hunted. And I +was sure it meant some sort of devil, and that it +would come and punish me for using the Bible that +way as if it were a hoodoo."</p> + +<p>"Then why didn't you ask me?" insisted Barby. +"There's another time you see, when a big worry +and misunderstanding could have been cleared away +with a word. To think of your living in dread all +that time, when the Tishbite was only a good old +prophet whose presence brought a blessing to the +house which sheltered him."</p> + +<p>That night when Georgina's curls were being +brushed she said, "Barby, I know now who my +Tishbite is; it's Captain Kidd. He's brought a +blessing ever since he came to this town. If it hadn't +been for his barking that day we were playing in +the garage I wouldn't be here now to tell the tale. +If it hadn't been for him I wouldn't have known +Richard, and we'd never have started to playing +pirate. And if we hadn't played pirate Richard +wouldn't have asked to borrow the rifle, and if he +hadn't asked we never would have found the note +hidden in the stock, and if we hadn't found the note +nobody would have known that Danny was innocent. +Then if Captain Kidd hadn't found the pouch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +we wouldn't have seen the compass that led to finding +the wild-cat woman who told us that Danny was +alive and well."</p> + +<p>"What a House-That-Jack-Built sort of tale that +was!" exclaimed Barby, much amused. "We'll have +to do something in Captain Kidd's honor. Give him +a party perhaps, and light up the holiday tree."</p> + +<p>The usual bedtime ceremonies were over, and +Barby had turned out the light and reached the door +when Georgina raised herself on her elbow to call:</p> + +<p>"Barby, I've just thought of it. The wish I made +on that star that night is beginning to come true. +Nearly everybody I know is happy about something." +Then she snuggled her head down on the pillow +with a little wriggle of satisfaction. "Ugh! this is +such a good world. I'm so glad I'm living in it. +Aren't you?"</p> + +<p>And Barby had to come all the way back in the +dark to emphasize her heartfelt "yes, indeed," with +a hug, and to seal the restless eyelids down with a +kiss—the only way to make them stay shut.</p> + +<p>Richard came back the next day. He brought a +picture to Georgina from Mr. Locke. It was the +copy of the illustration he had promised her, the +fairy shallop with its sails set wide, coming across +a sea of Dreams, and at the prow, white-handed +Hope, the angel girt with golden wings, which swept +back over the sides of the vessel.</p> + +<p>"Think of having a painting by the famous Milford<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +Norris Locke!" exclaimed Barby. She hung +over it admiringly. "Most people would be happy +to have just his autograph." She bent nearer to examine +the name in the corner of the picture. "What's +this underneath? Looks like number IV."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that means he's number four in our Rainbow +Club. Peggy Burrell is number five and the +Captain is number six. That's all the members we +have so far."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to count me in?" asked Barby.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you <i>are</i> counted in. You've belonged from +the beginning. We made you an <i>honary</i> member +or whatever it is they call it, people who deserve to +belong because they're always doing nice things, +but don't know it. There's you and Uncle Darcy +and Captain Kidd, because he saved our lives and +saved our families from having to have a double +funeral."</p> + +<p>Barby stooped to take the little terrier's head between +her hands and pat-a-cake it back and forth +with an affectionate caress.</p> + +<p>"Captain Kidd," she said gaily, "you shall have +a party this very night, and there shall be bones and +cakes on the holiday tree, and you shall be the best +man with a 'normous blue bow on your collar, and +we'll all dance around in your honor this way."</p> + +<p>Springing to her feet and holding the terrier's +front paws, she waltzed him around and around on +his hind legs, singing:</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>All around the barberry bush,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Barberry bush, barberry bush.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">All around the barberry bush</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">So early in the morning."</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p>Georgina, accustomed all her life to such frisky +performances, took it as a matter of course that +Barby should give vent to her feelings in the same +way that she herself would have done, but Richard +stood by, bewildered. It was a revelation to him +that anybody's mother could be so charmingly and +unreservedly gay. She seemed more like a big sister +than any of the mothers of his acquaintance. +He couldn't remember his own, and while Aunt Letty +was always sweet and good to him he couldn't imagine +her waltzing a dog around on its hind legs any +more than he could imagine Mrs. Martha Washington +doing it.</p> + +<p>The holiday tree was another revelation to him, +when he came back at dusk to find it lighted with the +colored lanterns and blooming with flags and hung +with surprises for Georgina and himself.</p> + +<p>"You've never seen it lighted," Barby explained, +"and Georgina's birthday had to be skipped because +I wasn't here to celebrate, so we've rolled all the +holidays into one, for a grand celebration in Captain +Kidd's honor."</p> + +<p>It was to shorten the time of waiting that Barbara +threw herself into the children's games and pleasures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> +so heartily. Every night she tore a leaf off the calendar +and planned something to fill up the next day +to the brim with work or play. They climbed to the +top of the monument when she found that Richard +had never made the ascent, and stood long, looking +off to Plymouth, twenty miles away, and at the town +spread out below them, seeming from their great +height, a tiny toy village. They went to Truro to +see the bayberry candle-dipping. They played Maud +Muller, raking the yard, because the boy whom old +Jeremy had installed in his place had hurt his foot. +Old Jeremy, being well on toward ninety now, no +longer attempted any work, though still hale and +hearty. But the garden had been his especial domain +too long for him to give it up entirely, and +he spent hours in it daily, to the disgust of his easy-going +successor.</p> + +<p>There were picnics at Highland Light and the +Race Point life-saving station. There were long +walks out the state road, through the dunes and by +the cranberry bogs. But everything which speeded +Barbara's weeks of feverish waiting, hurrying her +on nearer her heart's desire, brought Richard nearer +to the time of parting from the old seaport town +and the best times he had ever known. He had +kodak pictures of all their outings. Most of them +were light-struck or out of focus or over-exposed, +but he treasured them because he had taken them +himself with his first little Brownie camera. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +was nothing wrong or queer with the recollection of +the scenes they brought to him. His memory photographed +only perfect days, and he dreaded to have +them end.</p> + +<p>Before those weeks were over Richard began to +feel that he belonged to Barby in a way, and she to +him. There were many little scenes of which no +snapshot could be taken, which left indelible impressions.</p> + +<p>For instance, those evenings in the dim room +lighted only by the moonlight streaming in through +the open windows, when Barby sat at the piano with +Georgina beside her, singing, while he looked out +over the sea and felt the soul of him stir vaguely, as +if he had wings somewhere, waiting to be unfurled.</p> + +<p>The last Sunday of his vacation he went to church +with Barbara and Georgina. It wasn't the Church +of the Pilgrims, but another white-towered one near +by. The president of the bank was one of the ushers. +He called Richard by name when he shook +hands with the three of them at the door. That in +itself gave Richard a sense of importance and of +being welcome. It was a plain old-fashioned church, +its only decoration a big bowl of tiger-lilies on a table +down in front of the pulpit. When he took his seat +in one of the high front pews he felt that he had +never been in such a quiet, peaceful place before.</p> + +<p>They were very early. The windows were open, +and now and then a breeze blowing in from the sea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> +fluttered the leaves of a hymn-book lying open on the +front seat. Each time they fluttered he heard another +sound also, as faint and sweet as if it were +the ringing of little crystal bells. Georgina, on the +other side of Barby, heard it too, and they looked at +each other questioningly. Then Richard discovered +where the tinkle came from, and pointed upward +to call her attention to it. There, from the center +of the ceiling swung a great, old-fashioned chandelier, +hung with a circle of pendant prisms, each one +as large and shining as the one Uncle Darcy had +given her.</p> + +<p>Georgina knew better than to whisper in such a +place, but she couldn't help leaning past Barby so +that Richard could see her lips silently form the +words, "Rainbow Club." She wondered if Mr. +Gates had started it. There were enough prisms +for nearly every member in the church to claim one.</p> + +<p>Barby, reading the silent message of her lips and +guessing that Georgina was wondering over the discovery, +moved her own lips to form the words, "just +<i>honorary</i> members."</p> + +<p>Georgina nodded her satisfaction. It was good +to know that there were so many of them in the +world, all working for the same end, whether they +realized it or not.</p> + +<p>Just before the service began an old lady in the +adjoining pew next to Richard, reached over the partition +and offered him several cloves. He was too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +astonished to refuse them and showed them to Barby, +not knowing what to do with them. She leaned down +and whispered behind her fan:</p> + +<p>"She eats them to keep her awake in church."</p> + +<p>Richard had no intention of going to sleep, but +he chewed one up, finding it so hot it almost strangled +him. Every seat was filled in a short time, and presently +a drowsiness crept into the heated air which +began to weave some kind of a spell around him. +His shoes were new and his collar chafed his neck. +His eyelids grew heavier and heavier. He stared +at the lilies till the whole front of the church seemed +filled with them. He looked up at the chandelier +and began to count the prisms, and watch for the +times that the breeze swept across them and set them +to tinkling.</p> + +<p>Then, the next thing that he knew he was waking +from a long doze on Barby's shoulder. She was +fanning him with slow sweeps of her white-feathered +fan which smelled deliciously of some faint perfume, +and the man from Boston was singing all +alone, something about still waves and being brought +into a haven.</p> + +<p>A sense of Sabbath peace and stillness enfolded +him, with the beauty of the music and the lilies, the +tinkling prisms, the faint, warm perfume wafted +across his face by Barby's fan. The memory of it +all stayed with him as something very sacred and +sweet, he could not tell why, unless it was that Barby's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> +shoulder was such a dear place for a little motherless +lad's head to lie.</p> + +<p>Georgina, leaning against Barby on the other +side, half asleep, sat up and straightened her hat +when the anthem began. Being a Huntingdon she +could not turn as some people did and stare up at +the choir loft behind her when that wonderful voice +sang alone. She looked up at the prisms instead, +and as she looked it seemed to her that the voice +was the voice of the white angel Hope, standing +at the prow of a boat, its golden wings sweeping +back, as storm-tossed but triumphant, it brought the +vessel in at last to happy anchorage.</p> + +<p>The words which the voice sang were the words +on which the rainbow had rested, that day she read +them to Aunt Elspeth: "<i>So He bringeth them into +their desired haven.</i>" They had seemed like music +then, but now, rolling upward, as if Hope herself +were singing them at the prow of Life's tossing shallop, +they were more than music. They voiced the +joy of great desire finding great fulfilment.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/i005.png" width="200" height="104" alt="hand bell" /> +</div><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>NEARING THE END</div> + + +<div class='cap'>"OLD Mr. Potter has had a stroke."</div> + +<p>Georgina called the news up to Richard as +she paused at the foot of the Green Stairs on her +way to the net-mender's house.</p> + +<p>"Belle sent a note over a little while ago and I'm +taking the answer back. Come and go with me."</p> + +<p>Richard, who had been trundling Captain Kidd +around on his forefeet in the role of wheelbarrow, +dropped the dog's hind legs which he had been using +as handles and came jumping down the steps, two at +a time to do her bidding.</p> + +<p>"Belle's gone over to take care of things," Georgina +explained, with an important air as they walked +along. "There's a man to help nurse him, but she'll +stay on to the end." Her tone and words were Tippy's +own as she made this announcement.</p> + +<p>"End of what?" asked Richard. "And what's a +stroke?"</p> + +<p>Half an hour earlier Georgina could not have answered +his question, but she explained now with the +air of one who has had a lifetime of experience. It +was Mrs. Triplett's fund she was drawing on, however, +and old Jeremy's. Belle's note had started +them to comparing reminiscences, and out of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +conversation Georgina had gathered many gruesome +facts.</p> + +<p>"You may be going about as well and hearty as +usual, and suddenly it'll strike you to earth like lightning, +and it may leave you powerless to move for +weeks and sometimes even years. You may know all +that's going on around you but not be able to speak +or make a sign. Mr. Potter isn't as bad as that, but +he's speechless. With him the end may come any +time, yet he may linger on for nobody knows how +long."</p> + +<p>Richard had often passed the net-mender's cottage +in the machine, and stared in at the old man +plying his twine-shuttle in front of the door. The +fact that he was Emmett's father and ignorant of +the secret which Richard shared, made an object of +intense interest out of an otherwise unattractive and +commonplace old man. Now that interest grew +vast and overshadowing as the children approached +the house.</p> + +<p>Belle, stepping to the front door when she heard +the gate click, motioned for them to go around to +the back. As they passed an open side window, each +looked in, involuntarily attracted by the sight of a +bed drawn up close to it. Then they glanced at each +other, startled and awed by what they saw, and +bumped into each other in their haste to get by as +quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>On the bed lay a rigid form, stretched out under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +a white counterpane. All that showed of the face +above the bushy whiskers was as waxen looking as +if death had already touched it, but the sunken eyes +half open, showed that they were still in the mysterious +hold of what old Jeremy called a "living +death." It was a sight which neither of them could +put out of their minds for days afterward.</p> + +<p>Belle met them at the back door, solemn, unsmiling, +her hushed tones adding to the air of mystery +which seemed to shroud the house. As she finished +reading the note a neighbor came in the back way +and Belle asked the children to wait a few minutes. +They dropped down on the grass while Belle, leaning +against the pump, answered Mrs. Brown's questions +in low tones.</p> + +<p>She had been up all night, she told Mrs. Brown. +Yes, she was going to stay on till the call came, no +matter whether it was a week or a year. Mrs. Brown +spoke in a hoarse whisper which broke now and then, +letting her natural voice through with startling effect.</p> + +<p>"It's certainly noble of you," she declared. +"There's not many who would put themselves out to +do for an old person who hadn't any claim on them +the way you are doing for him. There'll surely be +stars in <i>your</i> crown."</p> + +<p>Later, as the children trudged back home, sobered +by all they had seen and heard, Georgina broke the +silence.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I think we ought to put Belle's name on +the very top line of our club book. She ought to be +an honary member—the very honaryest one of all."</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Richard.</p> + +<p>"You heard all Mrs. Brown said. Seems to me +what she's doing to give old Mr. Potter a good time +is the very noblest——"</p> + +<p>There was an amazed look on Richard's face as +he interrupted with the exclamation:</p> + +<p>"Gee-minee! You don't call what that old man's +having a good time, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's good to what it would be if Belle wasn't +taking care of him. And if she does as Mrs. Brown +says, 'carries some comfort into the valley of the +shadow for him, making his last days bright,' isn't +that the very biggest rainbow anybody could make?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," admitted Richard in a doubtful tone. +"Maybe it is if you put it that way."</p> + +<p>They walked a few blocks more in silence, then +he said:</p> + +<p>"I think <i>Dan</i> ought to be an honary member."</p> + +<p>It was Georgina's turn to ask why.</p> + +<p>"Aw, you know why! Taking the blame on himself +the way he did and everything."</p> + +<p>"But he made just as bad times for Uncle Darcy +and Aunt Elspeth as he made good times for Mr. +Potter and Emmett. I don't think he has any right +to belong at all."</p> + +<p>They argued the question hotly for a few minutes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +coming nearer to a quarrel than they had ever +been before, and only dropping it as they crossed +to a side street which led into the dunes.</p> + +<p>"Let's turn here and go home this way," suggested +Richard. "Let's go look at the place where +we buried the pouch and see if the sand has shifted +any."</p> + +<p>Nothing was changed, however, except that the +holes they had dug were filled to the level now, and +the sand stretched an unbroken surface as before the +day of their digging.</p> + +<p>"Cousin James says that if ever the gold comes +to the top we can have it, because he paid the woman. +But if it ever does I won't be here to see it. I've +got to go home in eight more days."</p> + +<p>He stood kicking his toes into the sand as he +added dolefully, "Here it is the end of the summer +and we've only played at being pirates. We've +never gone after the real stuff in dead earnest, one +single time."</p> + +<p>"I know," admitted Georgina. "First we had to +wait so long for your portrait to be finished and +then you went off on the yacht, and all in between +times things have happened so fast there never was +any time. But we found something just as good as +pirate stuff—that note in the rifle was worth more +to Uncle Darcy than a chest of gold."</p> + +<p>"And Captain Kidd was as good as a real pirate," +said Richard, brightening at the thought, "for he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> +brought home a bag of real gold, and was the one +who started us after the wild-cat woman. I guess +Uncle Darcy would rather know what she told him +than have a chest of ducats and pearls."</p> + +<p>"We can go next summer," suggested Georgina.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I won't be here next summer. Dad always +wants to try new places on his vacation. He +and Aunt Letty like to move. But I'd like to stay +here always. I hate to go away until I find out the +end of things. I wish I could stay until the letter is +found and Dan comes home."</p> + +<p>"You may be a grown-up man before either of +those things happen," remarked Georgina sagely.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll know I'll be here to see 'm," was the +triumphant answer, "because when I'm a man I'm +coming back here to live all the rest of my life. It's +the nicest place there is."</p> + +<p>"If anything happens sooner I'll write and tell +you," promised Georgina.</p> + +<p>Something happened the very next morning, however, +and Georgina kept part of her promise though +not in writing, when she came running up the Green +Stairs, excited and eager. Her news was so tremendously +important that the words tumbled over +each other in her haste to tell it. She could hardly +make herself understood. The gist of it was that a +long night letter had just arrived from her father, +saying that he had landed in San Francisco and was +taking the first homeward bound train. He would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> +stop in Washington for a couple of days to attend +to some business, and then was coming home for +a long visit. And—this was the sentence Georgina +saved till last to electrify Richard with:</p> + +<p>"<i>Am bringing Dan with me.</i>"</p> + +<p>"He didn't say where he found him or anything +else about it," added Georgina, "only 'prepare his +family for the surprise.' So Barby went straight +down there to Fishburn Court and she's telling Aunt +Elspeth and Uncle Darcy now, so they'll have time +to get used to the news before he walks in on them."</p> + +<p>They sat down on the top step with the dog between +them.</p> + +<p>"They must know it by this time," remarked Georgina. +"Oh, don't you wish you could see what's +happening, and how glad everybody is? Uncle +Darcy will want to start right out with his bell and +ring it till it cracks, telling the whole town."</p> + +<p>"But he won't do it," said Richard. "He promised +he wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow till Belle says he can," amended Georgina. +"I'm sure she'll say so when 'the call' comes, +but nobody knows when that will be. It may be soon +and it may not be for years."</p> + +<p>They sat there on the steps a long time, talking +quietly, but with the holiday feeling that one has +when waiting for a procession to pass by. The very +air seemed full of that sense of expectancy, of waiting +for something to happen.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>COMINGS AND GOINGS</div> + + +<div class='cap'>OUT towards the cranberry bogs went the Towncrier. +No halting step this time, no weary +droop of shoulders. It would have taken a swift-footed +boy to keep pace with him on this errand. He +was carrying the news to Belle. What he expected +her to say he did not stop to ask himself, nor did +he notice in the tumultuous joy which kept his old +heart pounding at unwonted speed, that she turned +white with the suddenness of his telling, and then a +wave of color surged over her face.</div> + +<p>Her only answer was to lead him into the room +where the old net-mender lay helpless, turning appealing +eyes to her as she entered, with the look +in them that one sees in the eyes of a grateful dumb +animal. His gaze did not reach as far as the Towncrier, +who halted on the threshold until Belle joined +him there. She led him outside.</p> + +<p>"You see for yourself how it is," was all she said. +"Do as you think best about it."</p> + +<p>Out on the road again the Towncrier stood hesitating, +uncertain which course to take. Twice he +started in the direction of home, then retraced his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> +steps again to stand considering. Finally he straightened +up with a determined air and started briskly +down the road which led to the center of the town. +Straight to the bank he went, asking for Mr. Gates, +and a moment later was admitted into the president's +private office.</p> + +<p>"And what can I do for you, Uncle Dan'l?" was +the cordial greeting.</p> + +<p>The old man dropped heavily into the chair set +out for him. He was out of breath from his rapid +going.</p> + +<p>"You can do me one of the biggest favors I ever +asked of anybody if you only will. Do you remember +a sealed envelope I brought in here the first of +the summer and asked you to keep for me till I +called for it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, do you want it now?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to show you what's in it."</p> + +<p>He had such an air of suppressed excitement as he +said it and his breathing was so labored, that Mr. +Gates wondered what could have happened to affect +him so. When he came back from the vault he carried +the envelope which had been left in his charge +earlier in the summer. Uncle Darcy tore it open +with fingers that trembled in their eagerness.</p> + +<p>"What I'm about to show you is for your eyes +alone," he said. He took out a crumpled sheet of +paper which had once been torn in two and pasted +together again in clumsy fashion. It was the paper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +which had been wadded up in the rifle, which Belle +had seized with hysterical fury, torn in two and +flung from her.</p> + +<p>"There! Read that!" he commanded.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gates knew everybody in town. He had been +one of the leading citizens who had subscribed to +the monument in Emmett Potter's honor. He could +scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyes as he +read the confession thrust into his hands, and he had +never been more surprised at any tale ever told him +than the one Uncle Darcy related now of the way +it had been found, and his promise to Belle Triplett.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to make it public while old Potter +hangs on," he said in conclusion. "I'll wait till he's +past feeling the hurts of earth. But Mr. Gates, I've +had word that my Danny's coming home. I can't +let the boy come back to dark looks and cold shoulders +turned on him everywhere. I thought if you'd +just start the word around that he's all right—that +somebody else confessed to what he's accused of—that +you'd seen the proof with your own eyes and +could vouch for his being all right—if <i>you'd</i> just +give him a welcoming hand and show you believed in +him it would make all the difference in the world in +Danny's home-coming. You needn't mention any +names," he pleaded. "I know it'll make a lot of talk +and surmising, but that won't hurt anybody. If +you could just do that——"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the old man walked out of the president's +office he carried his head as high as if he had been +given a kingdom. He had been given what was +worth more to him, the hearty handclasp of a man +whose "word was as good as a bond," and the promise +that Dan should be welcomed back to the town +by great and small, as far as was in his power to +make that welcome cordial and widespread.</p> + +<div class='center'><b>* * * * * * *</b></div> + +<p>Dan did not wait in Washington while Doctor +Huntingdon made his report. He came on alone, +and having missed the boat, took the railroad journey +down the Cape. In the early September twilight +he stepped off the car, feeling as if he were in +a strange dream. But when he turned into one of +the back streets leading to his home, it was all so +familiar and unchanged that he had the stranger +feeling of never having been away. It was the past +ten years that seemed a dream.</p> + +<p>He had not realized how he loved the old town +or the depth of his longing for it, until he saw it +now, restored to him. Even the familiar, savory +smells floating out from various supper tables as he +passed along, gave him keen enjoyment. Some of +them had been unknown all the time of his wanderings +in foreign lands. The voices, the type of features, +the dress of the people he passed, the veriest +trifles which he never noticed when he lived among<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> +them, thrilled him now with a sense of having come +back to his own.</p> + +<p>Half a dozen fishermen passed him, their boots +clumping heavily. He recognized two of them if not +as individuals, as members of families he had known, +from their resemblance to the older ones. Then he +turned his head aside as he reached the last man. +He was not ready to be recognized himself, yet. He +wanted to go home first, and this man at the end +was Peter Winn. He had sailed in his boat many +a time.</p> + +<p>A cold fog was settling over the Court when he +turned into it. As silently as the fog itself he stole +through the sand and in at the gate. The front door +was shut and the yellow blind pulled down over the +window, but the lamp behind it sent out a glow, +reaching dimly through the fog. He crept up close +to it to listen for the sound of voices, and suddenly +two blended shadows were thrown on the blind. The +old man was helping his wife up from her rocking +chair and supporting her with a careful arm as he +guided her across to the table. His voice rang out +cheerfully to the waiting listener.</p> + +<p>"That's it, Mother! That's it! Just one more +step now. Why, you're doing fine! I knew the word +of Danny's coming home would put you on your feet +again. The lad'll be here soon, thank God! Maybe +before another nightfall."</p> + +<p>A moment later and the lamp-light threw another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +shadow on the yellow blind, plain as a photograph. +It was well that the fog drew a white veil between it +and the street, for it was a picture of joy too sacred +for curious eyes to see.</p> + +<p><i>Danny had come home!</i></p> + +<div class='center'><b>* * * * * * *</b></div> + +<p>It was the tenth of September. The town looked +strangely deserted with nearly all the summer people +gone. The railroad wharf was the only place where +there was the usual bustle and crowd, and that was +because the <i>Dorothy Bradford</i> was gathering up its +passengers for the last trip of the season.</p> + +<p>Richard was to be one of them, and a most unwilling +one. Not that he was sorry to be going back +to school. He had missed Binney and the gang, +and could hardly wait to begin swapping experiences +with them. But he was leaving Captain Kidd behind. +Dogs were not allowed in the apartment house +to which his father and Aunt Letty intended moving +the next week.</p> + +<p>There had been a sorry morning in the garage +when the news was broken to him. He crept up into +the machine and lay down on the back seat, and cried +and cried with his arms around Captain Kidd's +neck. The faithful little tongue reached out now +and then to lap away his master's tears, and once he +lifted his paw and clawed at the little striped shirt +waist as if trying to convey some mute comfort.</p> + +<p>"You're just the same as folks!" sobbed Richard,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +hugging the shaggy head, laid lovingly on his breast. +"And it's <i>cruel</i> of 'em to make me give you away."</p> + +<p>Several days had passed since that unhappy morning, +however, and Richard did not feel quite so desolate +over the separation now. For one thing it had +not been necessary to give up all claim on Captain +Kidd to insure him a good home. Georgina had +gladly accepted the offer of half of him, and had +coaxed even Tippy into according him a reluctant +welcome.</p> + +<p>The passengers already on deck watched with interest +the group near the gang-plank. Richard was +putting the clever little terrier through his whole list +of tricks.</p> + +<p>"It's the last time, old fellow," he said imploringly +when the dog hesitated over one of them. "Go +on and do it for me this once. Maybe I'll never see +you again till I'm grown up and you're too old to remember +me."</p> + +<p>"That's what you said about Dan's coming home," +remarked Georgina from under the shade of her +pink parasol. That parasol and the pink dress and +the rose-like glow on the happy little face was attracting +even more admiration from the passengers +than Captain Kidd's tricks. Barbara, standing beside +her, cool and dainty in a white dress and pale +green sweater and green parasol, made almost as +much of a picture.</p> + +<p>"You talked that way about never expecting to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> +see Danny till you were grown," continued Georgina, +"and it turned out that you not only saw him, +but were with him long enough to hear some of his +adventures. It would be the same way about your +coming back here if you'd just keep hoping hard +enough."</p> + +<p>"Come Dicky," called Mr. Moreland from the +upper deck. "They're about to take in the gang-plank. +Don't get left."</p> + +<p>Maybe it was just as well that there was no time +for good-byes. Maybe it was more than the little +fellow could have managed manfully. As it was his +voice sounded suspiciously near breaking as he called +back over his shoulder, almost gruffly:</p> + +<p>"Well you—you be as good to my half of him +as you are to yours."</p> + +<p>A moment or two later, leaning over the railing +of the upper deck he could see Captain Kidd struggling +and whining to follow him. But Barby held +tightly to the chain fastened to his collar, and Georgina, +her precious pink parasol cast aside, knelt on +the wharf beside the quivering, eager little body to +clasp her arms about it and pour out a flood of comforting +endearments.</p> + +<p>Wider and wider grew the stretch of water between +the boat and the wharf. Richard kept on +waving until he could no longer distinguish the little +group on the end of the pier. But he knew they +would be there until the last curl of smoke from the +steamer disappeared around Long Point.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here," said the friendly voice of a woman standing +next to him. She had been one of the interested +witnesses of the parting. She thrust an opera-glass +into his hands. For one more long satisfying moment +he had another glimpse of the little group, still +faithfully waving, still watching. How very, very +far away they were!</p> + +<p>Suddenly the glass grew so blurry and queer it +was no more good, and he handed it back to the +woman. At that moment he would have given all +the pirate gold that was ever on land or sea, were it +his to give, to be back on that pier with the three of +them, able to claim that old seaport town as his +home for ever and always. And then the one thing +that it had taught him came to his help. With his +head up, he looked back to the distant shore where +the Pilgrim monument reared itself like a watchful +giant, and said hopefully, under his breath:</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>some day!</i>"</p> + +<div class='center'><b>* * * * * * *</b></div> + +<p>Georgina, waking earlier than usual that September +morning, looked up and read the verse on the +calendar opposite her bed, which she had read every +morning since the month came in.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>Like ships my days sail swift to port,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I know not if this be</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The one to bear a cargo rare</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Of happiness to me."</span></i><br /> +</div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But I <i>do</i> know this time," she thought exultingly, +sitting up in bed to look out the window and see what +kind of weather the dawn had brought. This was +the day her father was coming home. He was coming +from Boston on a battleship, and she and Barby +were going out to meet him as soon as it was sighted +in the harbor.</p> + +<p>She had that quivery, excited feeling which sometimes +seizes travelers as they near the journey's end, +as if she herself were a little ship, putting into a +long-wished-for port. Well, it would be like that in +a way, she thought, to have her father's arms folded +around her, to come at last into the strange, sweet +intimacy she had longed for ever since she first saw +Peggy Burrell and the Captain.</p> + +<p>And it was reaching another long-desired port +to have Barby's happiness so complete. As for +Uncle Darcy he said himself that he couldn't be +gladder walking the shining streets of heaven, than +he was going along that old board-walk with Danny +beside him, and everybody so friendly and so pleased +to see him.</p> + +<p>Georgina still called him Danny in her thoughts, +but it had been somewhat a shock the first time she +saw him, to find that he was a grown man with a +grave, mature face, instead of the boy which Uncle +Darcy's way of speaking of him had led her to expect. +He had already been up to the house to tell +them the many things they were eager to know about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> +the months he had spent with Doctor Huntingdon +and their long trip home together. And listening, +Georgina realized how very deep was the respect +and admiration of this younger man for her father +and his work, and everything he said made her +more eager to see and know him.</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy and Dan were with them when they +put out in the motor boat to meet the battleship. It +was almost sunset when they started, and the man +at the wheel drove so fast they felt the keen whip +of the wind as they cut through the waves. They +were glad to button their coats, even up to their +chins. Uncle Darcy and Dan talked all the way +over, but Georgina sat with her hand tightly locked +in her mother's, sharing her tense expectancy, never +saying a word.</p> + +<p>Then at last the little boat stopped alongside the +big one. There were a few moments of delay before +Georgina looked up and saw her father coming down +to them. He was just as his photograph had pictured +him, tall, erect, commanding, and strangely +enough her first view of him was with his face turned +to one side. Then it was hidden from her as he +gathered Barby into his arms and held her close.</p> + +<p>Georgina, watching that meeting with wistful, +anxious eyes, felt her last little doubt of him vanish, +and when he turned to her with his stern lips curved +into the smile she had hoped for, and with outstretched +arms, she sprang into them and threw her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> +arms around his neck with such a welcoming clasp +that his eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>Then, remembering certain little letters which he +had re-read many times on his homeward voyage, +he held her off to look into her eyes and whisper with +a tender smile which made the teasing question a +joy to her:</p> + +<p>"Which is it now? 'Dear Sir' or 'Dad-o'-my-heart?'"</p> + +<p>The impetuous pressure of her soft little cheek +against his face was answer eloquent enough.</p> + +<p>As they neared the shore a bell tolled out over +the water. It was the bell of Saint Peter, patron +saint of the fisher-folk and all those who dwell by +the sea. Then Long Point lighthouse flashed a welcome, +and the red lamp of Wood End blinked in +answer. On the other side Highland Light sent its +great, unfailing glare out over the Atlantic, and the +old Towncrier, looking up, saw the first stars shining +overhead.</p> + +<p>Alongshore the home lights began to burn. One +shone out in Fishburn Court where Aunt Elspeth +sat waiting. One threw its gleam over the edge of +the cranberry bog from the window where Belle +kept faithful vigil—where she would continue to +keep it until "the call" came to release the watcher +as well as the stricken old soul whose peace she +guarded. And up in the big gray house by the break-water, +where Tippy was keeping supper hot, a supper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +fit to set before a king, lights blazed from every +window.</p> + +<p>Pondering on what all these lights stood for, the +old man moved away from the others, and took his +place near the prow. His heart was too full just +now to talk as they were doing. Presently he felt a +touch on his arm. Georgina had laid her hand on it +with the understanding touch of perfect comradeship. +They were his own words she was repeating +to him, but they bore the added weight of her own +experience now.</p> + +<p>"It <i>pays</i> to keep Hope at the prow, Uncle Darcy."</p> + +<p>"Aye, lass," he answered tremulously, "it does."</p> + +<p>"And we're coming into port with all flags flying!"</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> we are!"</p> + +<p>She stood in silent gladness after that, the rest +of the way, her curls flying back in the wind made by +the swift motion of the boat, the white spray dashing +up till she could taste the salt of it on her lips; a little +figure of Hope herself, but of Hope riding +triumphantly into the port of its fulfillment. It was +for them all—those words of the old psalm on which +the rainbow had rested, and which the angel voice +had sung—"<i>Into their desired haven.</i>"</p> + + +<div class='center'><br /><br />THE END</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<div class='tnote'> +<h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are listed below and indicated by dotted lines under the corrections within the text. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> + +<p>Page 12, "somthing" changed to "something" (if it were something)</p> + +<p>Page 23, "Portugese" changed to "Portuguese" (A Portuguese woman on one)</p> + +<p>Page 33, "far" changed to "for" (gladly for an hour's)</p> + +<p>Page 33, "Portugese" changed to "Portuguese" (with two little Portuguese)</p> + +<p>Page 214, "make" changed to "made" (picture made Georgina)</p> + +<p>Page 223, "loose" changed to "lose" (to lose track of)</p> + +<p>Page 229, "disappont" changed to "disappoint" (shade of disappointment)</p> + +<p>Page 263, "spotches" changed to "splotches" (brown splotches on her)</p> + +<p>Page 283, "way" changed to "day" (spend the day at the Gray)</p> + +<p>Page 289, "stiffle" changed to "stifle" (tried to stifle them)</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Georgina of the Rainbows, by Annie Fellows Johnston + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEORGINA OF THE RAINBOWS *** + +***** This file should be named 39596-h.htm or 39596-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/5/9/39596/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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