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diff --git a/7047-h/7047-h.htm b/7047-h/7047-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2355c31 --- /dev/null +++ b/7047-h/7047-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10477 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!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" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Back to Billabong, by Mary Grant Bruce + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Back To Billabong, by Mary Grant Bruce + +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: Back To Billabong + +Author: Mary Grant Bruce + +Release Date: June 6, 2006 [EBook #7047] +Last Updated: March 15, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BACK TO BILLABONG *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + BACK TO BILLABONG + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Mary Grant Bruce + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + 1921 + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + “Beyond the distant sky-line + (Now pansy-blue and clear), + We know a land is waiting, + A brown land, very dear: + A land of open spaces, + Gaunt forest, treeless plain: + And if we once have loved it + We must come back again.” + + (Dorothea Mackellar.) +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>BACK TO BILLABONG</b></big> </a> + <br /><br /> <br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> + CHAPTER III </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> + CHAPTER VI </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> + CHAPTER X </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV </a><br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + BACK TO BILLABONG + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + LANCASTER GATE, LONDON, W + </h3> + <p> + “Do the beastly old map yourself, if you want it. I shan't, anyhow!” + </p> + <p> + “Wilfred!” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, Wil-fred!” The boy at the end of the schoolroom table, red-haired, + snub-nosed and defiant, mimicked the protesting tone. “I've done it once, + and I'm blessed if I do it again.” + </p> + <p> + “No one would dream that it was ever meant for Africa.” The young teacher + glanced at the scrawled and blotted map before her. “It—it doesn't + look like anything earthly. You must do it again, Wilfred.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you, Wilf.” Wilfred's sister leaned back in her chair, tilting it + on its hind legs. + </p> + <p> + “You have nothing to do with Wilfred's work, Avice. Go on with your + French.” + </p> + <p> + “Done it, thanks,” said Avice. “And I suppose I can speak to my own + brother if I like.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you can't—in lesson time,” said the teacher. + </p> + <p> + “Who's going to stop me?” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia Rainham controlled herself with an effort. + </p> + <p> + “Bring me your work,” she said. + </p> + <p> + She went over the untidy French exercise with a quick eye. When she had + finished it resembled a stormy sky—a groundwork of blue-black, + blotted writing, lit by innumerable dashes of red. Cecilia put down her + red pencil. + </p> + <p> + “It's hopeless, Avice. You haven't tried a bit. And you know it isn't hard—you + did a far more difficult piece of translation without a mistake last + Friday.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but the pantomime was coming off on Saturday,” said Wilfred, with a + grin. “Jolly little chance of tickets from Bob if she didn't!” + </p> + <p> + “You shut up!” said Avice. + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, both of you,” Cecilia ordered, a spot of red in each pale + cheek. “Remember, there will be other Saturdays. Bob will do nothing for + you if I can't give him a decent report of you.” It was the threat she + hated using, but without it she was helpless. And the red-haired pair + before her knew to a fraction the extent of her helplessness. + </p> + <p> + For the moment the threat was effective. Avice went back to her seat, + taking with her the excited-looking French exercise, while Wilfred + sullenly recommenced a dispirited attack upon the African coastline. + Cecilia leaned back in her chair, and took up a half-knitted sock—to + drop it hastily, as a long-drawn howl came from a low chair by the window. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever is the matter, Queenie?” + </p> + <p> + “I per-ricked my finger,” sobbed the youngest Miss Rainham. She stood up, + tears raining down her plump cheeks. No one, Cecilia thought, ever cried + so easily, so copiously, and so frequently as Queenie. As she stood + holding out a very grubby forefinger, on which appeared a minute spot of + blood, great tears fell in splashes on the dark green linoleum, while + others ran down her face to join them, and others trembled on her lower + eyelids, propelled from some artesian fount within. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dry up, Queenie!” said Wilfred irritably. “Anyone 'ud think you'd cut + your silly finger off!” + </p> + <p> + “Well—it'th bleed-in'!” wailed Queenie. She dabbed the injured + member with the pillow case she was hemming, adding a scarlet touch in + pleasant contrast to its prevailing grime. + </p> + <p> + “Well—you're too big a girl to cry for a prick,” said Cecilia + wearily. “People who are nearly seven really don't cry except for + something awfully bad.” + </p> + <p> + “There—I'll tell the mater you said awfully!” Avice jeered. “Who + bites our heads off for using slang, I'd like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't have much head left if I bit for every slang word you use,” + retorted her half-sister. “Do get on with your French, Avice—it's + nearly half-past twelve, and you know Eliza will want to lay the table + presently. Come here, Queenie.” She took the pillow case, and unpicked a + few stitches, which clearly indicated that the needle had been taking + giant strides. “Just hem that last inch or two again, and see if you can't + make it look nice. I believe the needle only stuck into your finger + because you were making it sew so badly. Have you got a handkerchief?—but, + of course, you haven't.” She polished the fat, tear-stained cheek with her + own. “Now run and sit down again.” + </p> + <p> + Queenie turned to go obediently enough—she was too young, and + possibly too fat, to plan, as yet, the deliberate malice in which her + brother and sister took their chief pleasure. Unfortunately, Wilfred + arrived at the end of Africa at the wrong moment for her. He pushed the + atlas away from him with a jerk that overturned the ink bottle, sending a + stream of ink towards Avice—who, shoving her chair backwards to + escape the deluge, cannoned into Queenie, and brought her headlong to the + floor. Howls broke out anew, mingled with a crisp interchange of abuse + between the elder pair, while Cecilia vainly sought to lessen the inky + flood with a duster. Upon this pleasant scene the door opened sharply. + </p> + <p> + “A nice way you keep order at lessons,” said Mrs. Mark Rainham acidly. + “And the ink all over the cloth. Well, all I can say is, you'll pay for a + new one, Cecilia.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not knock it over,” said Cecilia, in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “It's your business to look after the children, and see that they do not + destroy things,” said her stepmother. + </p> + <p> + “The children will not obey me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pouf!” said Mrs. Rainham. “A mere question of management. High-spirited + children want tact in dealing with them, that is all. You never trouble to + exercise any tact whatever.” Her eyes dwelt fondly on her high-spirited + son, whose red head was bent attentively over Africa while he traced a + mighty mountain range along the course of the Nile. “Wilfred, have you + nearly finished your work?” + </p> + <p> + “Nearly, Mater,” said the industrious Wilfred, manufacturing mountains + tirelessly. “Just got to stick in a few more things.” + </p> + <p> + “Say 'put,' darling, not 'stick.' Cecilia, you might point out those + little details—that is, if you took any interest in their English.” + </p> + <p> + “Thethilia thaid 'awfully' jutht now,” said Queenie, in a shrill pipe. + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt it,” said Mrs. Rainham, bitterly. “Of course, anyone + brought up in Paris is too grand to trouble about English—but we + think a good deal of these things in London.” A little smile hovered on + her thin lips, as Cecilia flushed, and Avice and her brother grinned + broadly. The Mater could always make old Cecilia go as red as a beetroot, + but it was fun to watch, especially when the sport beguiled the tedium of + lessons. + </p> + <p> + A clatter of dishes on a tray heralded the approach of Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “It is time the table was clear,” Mrs. Rainham said. “Wilfred, darling, I + want you to post a letter. Put up your work and get your cap. Cecilia, you + had better try to clean the cloth before lunch; it is ruined, of course, + but do what you can with it. I will choose another the next time I am in + London. And just make sure that the children's things are all in order for + the dancing lesson this afternoon. Avice, did you put out your slippers to + be cleaned?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgot all about it, Mater,” said Avice cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “Silly child—and it is Jackson's day off. Just brush them up for + her, Cecilia. When the children have gone this afternoon, I want you to + see to the drawing-room; some people are coming in to-night, and there are + fresh flowers from Brown's to arrange.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia looked up, with a sudden flush of dismay. The children's dancing + lesson gave her one free afternoon during the week. + </p> + <p> + “But—but I am going to meet Bob,” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Bob will wait, no doubt; you need not keep him long, if you hasten + yourself. Yes, Eliza, you can have the table.” Mrs. Rainham left the room, + with the children at her heels. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia whisked the lesson books hastily away; Eliza was waiting with a + lowering brow, and Eliza was by no means a person to be offended. Maids + were scarce enough in England in the months after the end of the war; and, + even in easier times, there had been a dreary procession of arriving and + departing servants in the Rainham household—the high-spirited + characteristics of the children being apt to pall quickly upon anyone but + their mother. In days when there happened to be no Eliza, it was Cecilia + who naturally inherited the vacant place, adding the duties of house-maid + to those of nurse, governess, companion and general factotum; all exacting + posts, and all of them unpaid. As Mrs. Rainham gracefully remarked, when a + girl was not earning her own living, as so many were, but was enjoying the + comfort of home, the least she could do was to make herself useful. + </p> + <p> + “Half a minute, Eliza.” She smiled at the slatternly girl. “Sorry to keep + you waiting; there's a river of ink gone astray here.” She placed the + soaked cloth on the waste-paper basket and polished the top of the table + vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “I'll bet it worn't you wot spilt it—but it's you wot 'as the + cleanin' up,” muttered Eliza. “Lemme rub that up now, Miss.” She put down + her tray and took the cloth from Cecilia's hand. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, ever so, Eliza—but you've got plenty to do yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if I 'ave, I ain't the on'y one wot 'as,” said Eliza darkly. Her + wizened little face suddenly flushed. “Lor, Miss,” she said + confidentially, “you doan't know wot a success that 'at you trimmed for me + is. It's a fair scream. I wore it larst night, an' me young man—'im + wot's in the Royal Irish—well, it fair knocked 'im! An' 'e wants me + to go out wiv 'im next Benk 'Oliday—out to 'Ampstead 'Eath. 'E never + got as far as arstin' me that before. I know it was that 'at wot done it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not it, Eliza,” Cecilia laughed. “It was just your hair under the hat. I + told you how pretty it would be, if you would only brush it more.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never 'ad no brush till you give me your old one,” said Eliza + practically. “I did brush it, though, a nundred times every night, till + Cook reckoned I was fair cracked. But 'air's on'y 'air, an' anyone 'as it—it's + not every one 'as an 'at like that.” She clattered plates upon the table + violently. “You goin' out this awfternoon, Miss?” + </p> + <p> + “As soon as I can, Eliza.” Cecilia's face fell. “I must arrange flowers + first.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll 'ave the vawses all ready wiv clean water for you,” said Eliza. “An' + don't you worry about the drorin'-room—I'll see as it's nice.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you can't, Eliza—you have no time. I know it's silver-cleaning + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, I'll squeeze it in some'ow.” Eliza stopped suddenly, at a decided + footstep in the passage, and began to rattle spoons and forks with a + vigour born of long practice. Cecilia picked up the inky cloth, and went + out. + </p> + <p> + Her stepmother was standing by the hall-stand, apparently intent on + examining Wilfred's straw hat. She spoke in a low tone as the girl passed + her. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you did not find so much pleasure in gossiping with servants, + Cecilia. It is such a bad example for Avice. I have spoken about it to you + before.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia did not answer. She went upstairs with flaming cheeks, and draped + the cloth across the hand basin in the bathroom, turning the tap + vengefully. A stream of water flowed through the wide stain. + </p> + <p> + “There's more real kindness in that poor little Cockney's finger than + there is in your whole body!” Cecilia whispered, apparently addressing the + unoffending cloth—which, having begun life as a dingy green and + black, did not seem greatly the worse for its new decoration. “Hateful old + thing!” A smile suddenly twitched the corners of her mouth. “Well, she + can't stop the money for a new cloth out of this quarter's allowance, + because I've just got it. That's luck, anyhow. I'll give it to Bob to + keep, in case she goes through my desk again.” She poured some ammonia + upon the stain, and rubbed gingerly, surveying the result with a tilted + nose. It was not successful. “Shall I try petrol? But petrol's an awful + price, and I've only got the little bottle I use for my gloves. Anyhow, + the horrible old cloth is so old and thin that it will fall to pieces if I + rub it. Oh, it's no use bothering about it—nothing will make it + better.” She squeezed the water from the cloth and spread the stained area + over a chair to dry, looking disgustedly at her own dyed finger-nails. + “Now for Avice's shoes before I scrub my hands.” + </p> + <p> + Avice's shoes proved a lengthy task, since the younger Miss Rainham had + apparently discovered some clay to walk through in Regent's Park on her + way home from the last dancing lesson; and well-hardened clay resists + ordinary cleaning methods, and demands edged tools. The luncheon bell rang + loudly before Cecilia had finished. She gave the shoes a final hurried + rub, and then fell to cleansing her hands; arriving in the dining-room, + pink and breathless, some minutes later, to find a dreary piece of tepid + mutton rapidly congealing on her plate. + </p> + <p> + “I think you might manage to be down in time for meals, Cecilia,” was Mrs. + Rainham's chilly greeting. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia said nothing. She had long realized the uselessness of any + excuses. To be answered merely gave her stepmother occasion for further + fault-finding—you might, as Cecilia told Bob, have a flawless + defence for the sin of the moment, but in that case Mrs. Rainham merely + changed her ground, and waxed eloquent about the sin of yesterday, or of + last Friday week, for which there might happen to be no defence at all. It + was so difficult to avoid being a criminal in Mrs. Rainham's eyes that + Cecilia had almost given up the attempt. She attacked her greasy mutton + and sloppy cabbage in silence, unpleasantly conscious of her stepmother's + freezing glance. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rainham was a short, stout woman, with colourless, rather pinched + features, and a wealth of glorious red hair. Some one had once told her + that her profile was classic, and she still rejoiced in believing it, was + always photographed from a side view, and wore in the house loose and + flowing garments of strange tints, calculated to bring out the colour of + her glowing tresses. Cecilia, who worshipped colour with every bit of her + artist soul, adored her stepmother's hair as thoroughly as she detested + her dresses. Bob, who was blunt and inartistic, merely detested her from + every point of view. “Don't see what you find to rave about in it,” he + said. “All the warmth of her disposition has simply gone to her head.” + </p> + <p> + There was certainly little warmth in Mrs. Rainham's heart, where her + stepdaughter was concerned. She disapproved very thoroughly of Cecilia in + every detail—of her pretty face and delicate colouring, of the fair + hair that rippled and curled and gleamed in a manner so light-hearted as + to seem distinctly out of place in the dingy room, of the slender grace + that was in vivid contrast to her own stoutness. She resented the very way + Cecilia put on her clothes—simple clothes, but worn with an air that + made her own elaborate dresses cheap and common by comparison. It was so + easy for her to look well turned out; and it would never be easy to dress + Avice, who bade fair to resemble her mother in build, and had already a + passion for frills and trimmings, and a contempt for plain things. Mrs. + Rainham had an uneasy conviction that the girl who bore all her scathing + comments in silence actually dared to criticize her in her own mind—perhaps + openly to Bob, whose blue eyes held many unspoken things as he looked at + her. Once she had overheard him say to Cecilia: “She looks like an + over-ornamented pie!” Cecilia had laughed, and Mrs. Rainham had passed on, + unsuspected, her mind full of a wild surmise. They would never dare to + mean her—and yet—that new dress of hers was plastered with + queer little bits of purposeless trimmings. She never again wore it + without that terrible sentence creeping into her mind. And she had been so + pleased with it, too! An over-ornamented pie. If she could only have been + sure they meant her! + </p> + <p> + She thought of it again as she sat looking at Cecilia. The new dress was + lying on her bed, ready to be worn that afternoon; and Cecilia was going + to meet Bob—Bob, who had uttered the horrible remark. Well, at least + there should be no haste about the meeting. It would do Bob no harm to + cool his heels for a little. She set her thin lips tightly together, as + she helped the rice pudding. + </p> + <p> + The meal ended, amidst loud grumbles from Wilfred that the pudding was + rice; and Cecilia hurried off to find the flowers and arrange them. The + florist's box was near the vases left ready by the faithful Eliza; she cut + the string with a happy exclamation of “Daffodils!” as she lifted the lid. + Daffodils were always a joy; this afternoon they were doubly welcome, + because easy to arrange. She sorted them into long-necked vases swiftly, + carrying each vase, when filled, to the drawing-room—a painful + apartment, crowded with knick-knacks until it resembled a bazaar stall, + with knobby and unsteady bamboo furniture and much drapery of a would-be + artistic nature. It was stuffy and airless. Cecilia wrinkled her pretty + nose as she entered. Mrs. Rainham held pronounced views on the subject of + what she termed the “fresh-air fad,” and declined to let London air—a + smoky commodity at best—attack her cherished carpets; with the + result that Cecilia breathed freely only in her little attic, which had no + carpet at all. + </p> + <p> + The lady of the house rustled in, in her flowing robe, as Cecilia put the + last vase into position on the piano—finding room for it with + difficulty amid a collection of photograph frames and china ornaments. She + carried some music, and cast a critical eye round the room. + </p> + <p> + “This place looks as if it had not been properly dusted for a week,” she + remarked. “See to it before you go, Cecilia.” She opened the piano. “Just + come and try the accompaniment to this song—it's rather difficult, + and I want to sing it to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia sat down before the piano, with woe in her heart. Her stepmother's + delusion that she could sing was one of the minor trials of her life. She + had been thoroughly trained in Paris, under a master who had prophesied + great things for her; now her hours at the Rainhams' tinkly piano, playing + dreary accompaniments to sentimental songs with Mrs. Rainham's weak + soprano wobbling and flattening on the high notes, were hours of real + distress, from which she would escape feeling her teeth on edge. Her + stepmother, however, had thoroughly enjoyed herself since the discovery + that no accompaniment presented any difficulty to Cecilia. It saved her a + world of trouble in practising; moreover, when standing, it was far easier + to let herself go in the affecting passages, which always suffered from + scantiness of breath when she was sitting down. Therefore she would stand + beside Cecilia, pouring forth song after song, with her head slightly on + one side, and one hand resting lightly on the piano—an attitude + which, after experiment with a mirror, she had decided upon as especially + becoming. + </p> + <p> + The song of the moment did make some demands upon her attention. It had a + disconcerting way of changing from sharps to flats; trouble being caused + by the singer failing to change also. Cecilia took her through it + patiently, going over and over again the tricky passages, and devoutly + wishing that Providence in supplying her stepmother with boundless energy, + a tireless voice and an enormous stock of songs, had also equipped her + with an ear for music. At length the lady desisted from her efforts. + </p> + <p> + “That's quite all right,” she said, with satisfaction. “I'll sing it + to-night. The Simons will be here, and they do like to hear what's new. Go + on with your dusting; I'll just run through a few pieces, and you can tell + me if I go wrong.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia hesitated, glancing at the clock. + </p> + <p> + “It is getting very late,” she said. “Eliza told me she could dust the + room.” + </p> + <p> + “Eliza!” said Mrs. Rainham. “Why, it's her silver day; she had no business + to tell you anything of the sort—and neither had you, to ask her to + do it. Goodness knows it's hard enough to make the lazy thing do her own + work. Just get your duster, and make sure as you come down that the + children are properly dressed for the dancing class.” She broke into a + waltz. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia ran. Sounds of woe greeted her as she neared Avice's room, and she + entered, to find that damsel plunged in despair over a missing button. + </p> + <p> + “It was on all right last time I wore the beastly dress,” wailed she. “If + you'd look after my clothes like Mater said you had to, I wouldn't be + late. Whatever am I to do? I can't make the old dress shut with a safety + pin.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you certainly can't,” said her half-sister. “Never mind; there are + spare buttons for that frock, and I can sew one on.” She accomplished the + task with difficulty, since Avice appeared quite unable to stand still. + </p> + <p> + “Now, are you ready, Avice? Shoes, hat, gloves—where are your + gloves? How do you ever manage to find anything in that drawer?” She + rooted swiftly in a wild chaos, and finally unearthed the gloves. “Yes, + you'll do. Now, where's Wilfred?” Search revealed Wilfred, who hated + dancing, reading a “penny dreadful” in his room—ready to start, save + for the trifling detail of having neglected to wash an extremely dirty + face. Cecilia managed to make him repair the omission, after a struggle, + and saw them off with a thankful heart—which sank anew as she heard + a neighbouring clock strike three. Three—and already she should be + meeting Bob in Hyde Park. She fled for a duster, and hurried to the + drawing-room. Eliza encountered her on the way. + </p> + <p> + “Now, wotcher goin' to do wiv that duster, Miss?” she inquired. “I told + yer I'd do it for yer.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Rainham is waiting for me to do it, Eliza. I'm sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “Ow!” Eliza's expression and her tilted nose spoke volumes. “Suppose she + finks I wouldn't clean 'er old silver proper. Silver, indeed!—'lectrer-plyte, + an' common at that. Just you cut and run as soon as she's out of the + 'ouse, Miss; I know she's goin', 'cause 'er green and yaller dress is + a-airin' on 'er bed.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not much good, Eliza. I ought to be in the Park now.” Cecilia knew + she should not allow the girl to speak of her mistress so contemptuously. + But she was disheartened enough at the moment not to care. + </p> + <p> + “Lor!” said Eliza. “A bloomin' shyme, I calls it!” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia found her stepmother happily engaged upon a succession of wrong + notes that made her wince. She dusted the room swiftly, aware all the time + of a watchful eye. Occasionally came a crisp comment: “You didn't dust + that window-sill.” “Cecilia, that table has four legs—did you only + notice two?”—the effort to speak while playing generally bringing + the performer with vigour upon a wrong chord. The so-called music became + almost a physical torment to the over-strained girl. + </p> + <p> + “If she would only stop—if she would only go away!” she found + herself murmuring, over and over. Even the thought of Bob waiting in Hyde + Park in the chill east wind became dim beside that horrible piano, banging + and tinkling in her ear. She dusted mechanically, picking up one cheap + ornament after another—leaving the collection upon the piano until + the last, in the hope that by the time she reached it the thirst for music + would have departed from the performer. But Mrs. Rainham's tea appointment + was not yet; she was thoroughly enjoying herself, the charm of her own + execution added to the knowledge that Cecilia was miserable, and Bob + waiting somewhere, with what patience he might. She held on to the bitter + end, while the girl dusted the piano's burden with a set face. Then she + finished a long and painful run, and shut the piano with a bang. + </p> + <p> + “There—I've had quite a nice practice, and it isn't often the + drawing-room gets really decently dusted,” she remarked. “Nothing like the + eye of the mistress; I think I must practise every day while you are + dusting, Cecilia. Oh, and, Cecilia, give the legs of the piano a good + rubbing. Dear me, I must go and dress.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia dragged herself upstairs a few minutes later. All the spring was + gone out of her; it really did not seem to matter much now whether she met + Bob or not; she was too tired to care. This was only a sample of many + days; so it had been for two years—so it would be for two more, + until she was twenty-one, and her own mistress. But it did not seem + possible that she could endure through another two years. + </p> + <p> + She reached her own room, and was about to shut the door, when the harsh + voice rasped upwards. + </p> + <p> + “Cecilia! Cecilia! Come here a minute.” + </p> + <p> + The girl went down slowly. Mrs. Rainham was standing before her mirror. + </p> + <p> + “Just come and hook my dress, Cecilia. This new dressmaker has a knack of + making everything hard to fasten. There—see that you start with the + right hook and eye.” + </p> + <p> + At the moment, physical contact with her stepmother was almost the last + straw for the girl. She obeyed in silence, shrinking back as far as she + could from the stout, over-scented body and the powdered face with the + thin lips. Mrs. Rainham watched her with a little smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's all right,” she said. “Now, my hat, Cecilia—it's in the + bandbox under the bed. I can't stoop in this dress, that's the worst of + it. And my gloves are in that box on the chest of drawers—the white + pair. Hurry, Cecilia, my appointment is for four o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine was for three o'clock,” said the girl in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, you should manage your work better. I always tell you that. + Nothing like method in getting through every day. However, Bob is only + your brother—it would be more serious if it was a young man you were + meeting. Brothers don't matter much.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia flamed round upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Bob is more to me than anyone in the world,” she cried. “And I would + rather keep any other man waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “Really? But I shouldn't think it very likely that you'll ever have to + trouble about other young men, Cecilia; you're not the sort. Too thin and + scraggy.” Mrs. Rainham surveyed her own generous proportions in the glass, + and gathered up her gloves with a pleased air. For the moment she could + not possibly believe that anyone could have referred to her as “an + over-ornamented pie.” “Good-bye, Cecilia; don't be late for tea.” She + sailed down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Even the bang of the hall door failed to convey any relief to Cecilia. For + the second time she toiled upstairs, to the bare freshness of her little + room. Generally, it had a tonic effect upon her; to-day it seemed that + nothing could help her. She leaned her head against the window, a wave of + homesick loneliness flooding all her soul. So deep were its waters that + she did not hear the hall door open and close again, and presently swift + feet pounding up the stairs. Someone battered on her door. + </p> + <p> + “Cecilia! Are you there?” + </p> + <p> + She ran to open the door. Bob stood there, a short, muscular fellow, in + Air Force blue, with twinkling eyes. She put out her hands to him with a + little pitiful gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that horrible name again,” she whispered. “If anyone else calls + me Cecilia I'll just go mad.” + </p> + <p> + Bob came in, and flung a brotherly arm round her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Has it been so beastly?” he said. “Poor little Tommy. Oh, Tommy, I saw + the over-ornamented pie sailing down the street, and I dived into a side + alley until she'd gone out of range. I guessed from her proud and happy + face that you'd been scarified.” + </p> + <p> + “Scarified!” murmured Cecilia. But Bob was not listening. His face was + radiant. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't wait in the park any longer,” he said. “I had to come and tell + you. Tommy, old thing—I'm demobilized!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + THE RAINHAMS + </h3> + <p> + It was one of Mrs. Mark Rainham's grievances that, comparatively late in + her married life, she should suddenly find herself brought into + association with the children of her husband's first marriage. They were + problems that Fate had previously removed from her path; she found it + extremely annoying—at first—that Fate should cease to be so + tactful, casting upon her a burden long borne by other shoulders. It was + not until she had accepted Mark Rainham, eleven years before, that she + found out the very existence of Bob and Cecilia; she resented the manner + of the discovery, even as she resented the children themselves. Not that + she ever dreamed of breaking off her engagement on their account. She was + a milliner in a Kensington shop, and to marry Mark Rainham, who was + vaguely “something in the city,” and belonged to a good club, and dressed + well, was a distinct step in the social scale, and two unknown children + were not going to make her draw back. But to mother them was quite another + question. + </p> + <p> + Luckily, Fate had a compassionate eye upon the young Rainhams, and was + quite willing to second their stepmother's resolve that they should come + into her life as little as possible. Their father had never concerned + himself greatly about them. A lazy and selfish man, he had always been + willing to shelve the care of his small son and daughter—babies were + not in his line, and the aunt who had brought up their mother was only too + anxious to take Bob and Cecilia when that girl-mother had slipped away + from life, leaving a week-old Cecilia and a sturdy, solemn Bob of three. + </p> + <p> + The arrangement suited Mark Rainham very well. Aunt Margaret's house at + Twickenham was big enough for half a dozen babies; the children went + there, with their nurse, and he was free to slip back into bachelor ways, + living in comfortable chambers within easy reach of his club and not too + far, with a good train service, from a golf links. The regular week-end + visits to the babies suffered occasional interruptions, and gradually grew + fewer and fewer, until he became to the children a vague and mysterious + person named Papa, who dropped from the skies now and then, asked them a + number of silly questions, talked with great politeness to Aunt Margaret—who, + they instinctively felt, liked him no better than they did—and then + disappeared, whereupon every one was immensely relieved. Even the fact + that he generally brought them a packet of expensive sweets was as nothing + beside the harrowing knowledge that they must kiss him, thereby having + their faces brushed with a large and scrubby moustache. Aunt Margaret and + nurse did not have to endure this infliction—which seemed to Bob and + Cecilia obviously unfair. But the visits did not often happen—not + enough to disturb seriously an existence crammed with interesting things + like puppies and kittens, the pony cart, boats on the river that ran just + beyond the lawn, occasional trips to London and the Zoo, and delirious + fortnights at the seaside or on Devonshire moors. Cecilia had never known + even Bobby's shadowy memories of their own mother. Aunt Margaret was + everything that mattered, and the person called Papa was merely an + unpleasant incident. Other little boys and girls whom they knew owned, in + their houses, delightful people named Daddy and Mother; but Cecilia and + Bob quite understood that every one could not have the same things, for + possibly these fortunate children had no puppies or pony carts. Nurse had + pointed out this, so that it was perfectly clear. + </p> + <p> + It was when Cecilia was eight and Bob eleven, that their father married + again. To the children it meant nothing; to Aunt Margaret it was a bomb. + If Mark Rainham had happened to die, or go to the North Pole, she would + have borne the occurrence calmly; but that he should take a step which + might mean separating her from her beloved babies shook her to her + foundations. Even when she was assured that the new Mrs. Rainham disliked + children, and had not the slightest intention of adding Bob and Cecilia to + her household, Aunt Margaret remained uneasy. The red-haired person, as + she mentally labelled her, might change her mind. Mark Rainham was wax in + her hands, and would always do as he was told. Aunt Margaret, goaded by + fear, became heroic. She let the beloved house at Twickenham while Mr. and + Mrs. Rainham were still on their honeymoon; packed up the children, her + maids, nurse, the parrot and most of the puppies; and kept all her plans a + profound secret until she was safely established in Paris. + </p> + <p> + To the average Londoner, Paris is very far off. There are, of course, very + many people who run across the Channel as easily as a Melbourne man may + week-end in Gippsland or Bendigo, but the suburban section of London is + not fond of voyaging across a strip of water with unpleasant possibilities + in the way of choppiness, to a strange country where most of the + inhabitants have the bad taste not to speak English. Neither Mark Rainham + nor his new wife had ever been in France, and to them it seemed, as Aunt + Margaret had shrewdly hoped it would, almost as though the Twickenham + household had gone to the North Pole. A great relief fell upon them, since + there could now be no question of assuming duties when those duties were + suddenly beyond their reach. And Aunt Margaret's letter was convincing—such + a good offer, suddenly, for the Twickenham house; such excellent + educational opportunities for the children, in the shape of semi-English + schools, where Bob and Cecilia might mix with English children and retain + their nationality while acquiring Parisian French. If Mark Rainham felt + any inward resentment at the summary disposal of his son and daughter, he + did not show it; as of old, it was easier to let things slide. Aunt + Margaret was given a free hand, save that at fourteen Bob returned to + school in England; an arrangement that mattered little, since all his + holidays were spent at the new home at Fontainebleau—a house which, + even to the parrot, was highly reminiscent of Twickenham. + </p> + <p> + Bob and Cecilia found life extremely interesting. They were cheery, + happy-go-lucky youngsters, with an immense capacity for enjoyment; and + Aunt Margaret, while much too shrewd an old lady to spoil children, + delighted in giving them a good time. They found plenty of friends in the + little English community in Paris, as well as among their French + neighbours. Paris itself was full of fascination; then there were + wonderful excursions far afield—holidays in Brussels, in the South + of France, even winter sporting in Switzerland. Aunt Margaret was + determined that her nurselings should miss nothing that she could give + them. The duty letters which she insisted on their writing, once a month, + to their father told of happenings that seemed strangely remote from the + humdrum life of London. “By Jove, the old lady gives those youngsters a + good time!” Mark Rainham would comment, tossing them across the table to + his wife. He did not guess at the dull rage that filled her as she read + them—the unreasoning jealousy that these children should have + opportunities so far beyond any that were likely to occur for her own, who + squabbled angrily over their breakfast while she read. + </p> + <p> + “She seems to have any amount of money to spend on gadding about,” she + would say unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pots of money. Wish to goodness I had some of it,” her husband would + answer. Money was always scarce in the Rainham household. + </p> + <p> + When the thunderbolt of war fell upon the world, Aunt Margaret, after the + first pangs of panic, stiffened her back, and declined to leave France. + England, she declared, was not much safer than anywhere else; and was it + likely that she and Cecilia would run away when Bob was coming back? Bob, + just eighteen, captain of his school training corps, stroke of its racing + boat, and a mighty man of valour at football, slid naturally into khaki + within a month of the outbreak of war, putting aside toys, with all the + glad company of boys of the Empire, until such time as the Hun should be + taught that he had no place among white men. Aunt Margaret and Cecilia, + knitting frantically at socks and mufflers and Balaclava helmets, were + desperately proud of him, and compared his photograph, in uniform, with + all the pictures of Etienne and Henri and Armand, and other French boys + who had played with him under the trees at Fontainebleau, and had now + marched away to join him at the greater game. It was difficult to realize + that they were not still little boys in blouses and knickerbockers—difficult + even when they swooped down from time to time on short leave, filling the + quiet houses with pranks and laughter that were wholly boyish. Even when + Bob had two stars on his cuff, and wore the ribbon of the Military Cross, + it would have astonished Aunt Margaret and Cecilia very much had anyone + suggested that he was grown up. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, Aunt Margaret was never to think of him as anything but “one of + the children.” Illness, sudden and fierce, fell upon her after a long + spell of duty at the hospital where she worked from the first few months + of the war—working as cook, since she had no nursing experience, and + was, she remarked, too old to learn a new trade. Brave as she was, there + was no battling for her against the new foe; she faded out of life after a + few days, holding Cecilia's hand very tightly until the end. + </p> + <p> + Bob, obtaining leave with much difficulty, arrived a few days later, to + find a piteous Cecilia, white-faced, stunned and bewildered. She pleaded + desperately against leaving France; amidst all the horror and chaos that + had fallen upon her, it seemed unthinkable that she should put the sea + between herself and Bob. But to remain was impossible. Aunt Margaret's + English maids wanted to go back to their friends, and a girl of seventeen + could scarcely stay alone in a country torn by two years of war. Besides, + Aunt Margaret's affairs were queerly indefinite; there seemed very little + money where there had formerly been plenty. There was no alternative for + Cecilia but England—and England meant the Rainham household, and + such welcome as it might choose to give her. + </p> + <p> + She was still bewildered when they made the brief journey across the + Channel—a new Channel, peopled only with war-ships of every kind, + from grim Dreadnoughts to submarines; with aircraft, bearing the red, + white and blue circles of Britain, floating and circling overhead. Last + time Cecilia had crossed, it had been with Aunt Margaret on a big turbine + mail boat; they had reached Calais just as an excursion steamer from + Margate came up, gay with flags and light dresses, with a band playing + ragtime on the well-deck, and people dancing to a concertina at the stern. + Now they zig-zagged across, sometimes at full speed, sometimes stopping + dead or altering their course in obedience to the destroyer nosing ahead + of them through the Channel mist; and she could see the face of the + captain on the bridge, strained and anxious. There were so few civilians + on board that Cecilia and the two old servants were greeted with curious + stares; nearly all the passengers were in uniform, their boots caked with + the mud of the trenches, their khaki soiled with the grime of war. It was + all rather dream-like to Cecilia; and London itself was a very bad dream; + darkened and silent, with the great beams of searchlights playing back and + forth over the black skies in search of marauding Zeppelins. And then came + her father's stiff greeting, and the silent drive to the tall, narrow + house in Lancaster Gate, where Mrs. Rainham met her coldly. In after years + Cecilia never could think without a shudder of that first meal in her + father's house—the struggle to eat, the lagging talk round the + table, with Avice and Wilfred, frankly hostile, staring at her in silence, + and her stepmother's pale eyes appraising every detail of her dress. It + was almost like happiness again to find herself alone, later; in a dingy + little attic bedroom that smelt as though it had never known an open + window—a sorry little hole, but still, out of the reach of those + unblinking eyes. + </p> + <p> + For the first year Cecilia had struggled to get away to earn her own + living. But a very few weeks served to show Mrs. Rainham that chance had + sent her, in the person of the girl whose coming she had sullenly + resented, a very useful buffer against any period of domestic stress. Aunt + Margaret had trained Cecilia thoroughly in all housewifely virtues, and + her half-French education had given her much that was lacking in the + stodgy damsels of Mrs. Rainham's acquaintance. She was quick and courteous + and willing; responding, moreover, to the lash of the tongue—after + her first wide-eyed stare of utter amazement—exactly as a well-bred + colt responds to a deftly-used whip. “I'll keep her,” was Mrs. Rainham's + inward resolve. “And she'll earn her keep too!” + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt that Cecilia did that. Wilfred and Avice saw to it, + even had not their mother been fully capable of exacting the last ounce + from the only helper she had ever had who had not the power to give her a + week's notice. Cecilia's first requests to be allowed to take up work + outside had been shelved vaguely. “We'll find some nice war-work for you + presently”. . . and meanwhile, the household was short-handed, Mrs. + Rainham was overstrained—Cecilia found later that her stepmother was + always “overstrained” whenever she spoke of leaving home—and duties + multiplied about her and hemmed her in. Mrs. Rainham was clever; the net + closed round the girl so gradually that she scarcely realized its meshes + until they were drawn tightly. Even Bob helped. “You're awfully young to + start work on your own account,” he wrote. “Can't you stick it for a bit, + if they are decent to you?” And, rather than cause him any extra worry, + Cecilia decided that she must “stick it.” + </p> + <p> + Of her father she saw little. He was, just as she remembered him in her + far-back childhood at Twickenham, vague and colourless. Rather to her + horror, she found that the ordeal of being kissed by his large and scrubby + moustache was just as unpleasant as ever. Cecilia had no idea of how he + earned his living—he ate his breakfast hurriedly, concealed behind + the Daily Mail, and then disappeared, bound for some mysterious place in + the city—the part of London that was always full of mystery to + Cecilia. Golf was the one thing that roused him to any enthusiasm, and + golf was even more of a mystery than the city. Cecilia knew that it was + played with assorted weapons, kept in a bag, and used for smiting a small + ball over great expanses of country, but beyond these facts her knowledge + stopped. Mrs. Rainham had set her to clean the clubs one day, but her + father, appearing unexpectedly, had taken them from her hands with + something like roughness. “No, by Jove!” he said. “You do a good many odd + jobs in this house, but I'm hanged if you shall clean my golf sticks.” + Cecilia did not realize that the assumed roughness covered something very + like shame. + </p> + <p> + Money matters were rather confusing. A lawyer—also in the city—paid + her a small sum quarterly—enough to dress on, and for minor + expenses. Bob wrote that Aunt Margaret's affairs were in a beastly tangle. + An annuity had died with her, and many of her investments had been hit by + the war, and had ceased to pay dividends—had even, it seemed, ceased + to be valuable at all. There was a small allowance for Bob also, and some + day, if luck should turn, there might be a little more. Bob did not say + that his own allowance was being hoarded for Cecilia, in case he “went + west.” He lived on his pay, and even managed to save something out of + that, being a youth of simple tastes. His battalion had been practically + wiped out of existence in the third year of the war, and after a peaceful + month in a north country hospital, near an aerodrome, the call of the air + was too much for him—he joined the cheerful band of flying men, and + soon filled his letters to Cecilia with a bewildering mixture of + technicalities and aviation slang that left her gasping. But he got his + wings in a very short time, and she was prouder of him than ever—and + more than ever desperately afraid for him. + </p> + <p> + The children's daily governess, a down-trodden person, left after Cecilia + had been in England for a few months, and the girl stepped naturally into + the vacant position until some one else should be found. She had no idea + that Mrs. Rainham made no effort at all to discover any other successor to + Miss Simpkins. Where, indeed, Mrs. Rainham demanded of herself, would she + be likely to find anyone with such qualifications—young, docile, + with every advantage of a modern education, speaking French like a native, + and above and beyond all else, requiring no pay? It would be flying in the + face of Providence to ignore such a chance. Wherefore Cecilia continued to + lead her step-sisters and brother in the paths of learning, and life + became a thing of utter weariness. For Mrs. Rainham, though shrewd enough + to get what she wanted, in the main was not a far-sighted woman; and in + her unreasoning dislike and jealousy of Cecilia she failed to see that she + defeated her own ends by making her a drudge. Whatever benefit the girl + might have given the children was lost in their contempt for her. She had + no authority, no power to enforce a command, or to give a punishment, and + the children quickly discovered that, so long as they gave her the merest + show of obedience in their mother's presence, any shortcomings in + education would be laid at Cecilia's door. Lesson time became a period of + rare sport for the young Rainhams; it was so easy to bait the new sister + with cheap taunts, to watch the quick blood mount to the very roots of her + fair hair, to do just as little as possible, and then to see her blamed + for the result. Mrs. Rainham's bitter tongue grew more and more + uncontrolled as time went on and she felt the girl more fully in her + power. And Cecilia lived through each day with tight-shut lips, conscious + of one clear thing in her mist of unhappy bewilderment—that Bob must + not know: Bob, who would probably leave his job of skimming through the + air of her beloved France after the Hun, and snatch an hour to fly to + England and annihilate the entire Rainham household, returning with + Cecilia tucked away somewhere in his aeroplane. It was a pleasant dream, + and served to carry her through more than one hard moment. But it did not + always serve; and there were nights when Cecilia mounted to her attic with + dragging footsteps, to sit by her window in the darkness, gripping her + courage with both hands, afraid to let herself think of the dear, happy + past; of Aunt Margaret, whose very voice was love; least of all of Bob, + perhaps even now flying in the dark over the German lines. There was but + one thing that she could hold to: she voiced it to herself, over and over + with clenched hands, “It can't last for ever! It can't last for ever!” + </p> + <p> + And then, after the long years of clutching anxiety, came the Armistice, + and Cecilia forgot all her troubles in its overwhelming relief. No one + would shoot at Bob any longer; there were no more hideous, squat guns, + with muzzles yawning skywards, ready to shell him as he skimmed high + overhead, like a swallow in the blue. Therefore she sang as she went about + her work, undismayed by the laboured witticisms of Avice and Wilfred, or + by Mrs. Rainham's venom, which increased with the realization that her + victim might possibly slip from her grasp, since Bob would come home, and + Bob was a person to be reckoned with. Certainly Bob had scarcely any + money; moreover, Cecilia was not of age, and, therefore, still under her + father's control. But Mrs. Rainham felt vaguely uneasy, and visions + floated before her of the old days when governesses and maids had departed + with unpleasant frequency, leaving her to face all sorts of disagreeable + consequences. She set her thin lips, vowing inwardly that Cecilia should + remain. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless it was a relief to her that early demobilization did not come + for Bob. At the time of the Armistice he was attached to an Australian + flying squadron, and for some months remained abroad; then he was sent + back to England, and employed in training younger fliers at a Surrey + aerodrome. This had its drawbacks in Mrs. Rainham's eyes, since he was + often able to run up to London, and, to Bob, London merely meant Cecilia. + It was only a question of time before he discovered something of what life + at Lancaster Gate meant—his enlightenment beginning upon an + afternoon when, arriving unexpectedly, and being left by Eliza to find + Cecilia for himself, he had the good fortune to overhear Mrs. Rainham in + one of her best efforts—a “wigging” to which Avice and Wilfred were + listening delightedly, and which included not only Cecilia's sin of the + moment, but her upbringing, her French education, her “foreign fashion of + speaking,” and her sinful extravagance in shoes. These, and other matters, + were furnishing Mrs. Rainham with ample material for a bitter discourse + when she became aware of another presence in the room, and her eloquence + faltered at the sight of Bob's astonished anger. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rainham did not recall with any enjoyment the interview which + followed—Cecilia and the children having been brushed out of the way + by the indignant soldier. Things which had been puzzling to Bob were + suddenly made clear—traces of distress which Cecilia had often + explained away vaguely, the children's half-contemptuous manner towards + her, even Eliza's tone in speaking of her—a queer blend of anger and + pity. Mrs. Rainham held her ground to some extent, but the brother's + questions were hard to parry, and some of his comments stung. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll take her away,” he stormed at length. “It's evident that she + does not give you satisfaction, and she certainly isn't happy. She had + better come away with me to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said his stepmother freezingly, “and where will you take her?” + </p> + <p> + Bob hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “There are plenty of places—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “Not for a young girl alone. Cecilia is very ignorant of England; you + could not be with her. Your father would not hear of it. You must remember + that Cecilia is under his control until she is twenty-one.” + </p> + <p> + “My father has never bothered about either of us,” Bob said bitterly. “He + surely won't object if I take her off your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “He will certainly not permit any such thing. Whatever arrangement he made + during your aunt's lifetime was quite a different matter. If you attempt + to take Cecilia from his control you commit an illegal action,” said Mrs. + Rainham—hoping she was on safe ground. To her relief Bob did not + contradict her. English law and its mysteries were beyond him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see that that matters,” he began doubtfully. His stepmother cut + him short. + </p> + <p> + “You would very soon find that it matters a good deal,” she said coldly. + “It would be quite simple for your father to get some kind of legal + injunction, forbidding you to interfere with your sister. Home training is + what she needs, and we are determined that she shall get it. You will only + unsettle and injure her by trying to induce her to disobey us.” + </p> + <p> + The hard voice fell like lead on the boy's ears. He felt very helpless; if + he did indeed snatch his sister away from this extremely unpleasant home, + and their father had only to stretch out a long, legal tentacle and claw + her back, it was clear that her position would be harder than ever. He + could only give in, at any rate, for the present, and in his anxiety for + the little sister whom Aunt Margaret had always trained him to protect, he + humbled himself to beg for better treatment for her. “No one ever was + angry with her,” he said. “She'll do anything for you if you're decent to + her.” + </p> + <p> + “She might give less cause for annoyance if she had had a little more + severity,” said Mrs. Rainham with an unspoken sneer at poor Aunt Margaret. + “You had better advise her to do her best in return for the very + comfortable home we give her.” With which Bob had to endeavour to be + content, for the present. He went off to find Cecilia, with a lowering + brow, leaving his stepmother not nearly so easy in her mind as she seemed. + For Bob had a square jaw, and was apt to talk little and do a good deal; + and his affection for Cecilia was, in Mrs. Rainham's eyes, little short of + ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + Thereafter, the brother and sister took counsel together and made great + plans for the future, when once the Air Force should decide that it had no + further wish to keep Captain Robert Rainham from earning his living on + terra firma. What that future was to be for Bob was very difficult to + plan. Aunt Margaret had intended him for a profession; but the time for + that had gone by, even had the money been still available. “I'm half glad + that it isn't,” Bob said; “I don't see how a fellow could go back to + swotting over books after being really alive for nearly five years.” There + seemed nothing but “the land” in some shape or form; they were not very + clear about it, but Bob was strenuously “keeping his ears open”—like + so many lads of his rank in the early months of 1919, when the future that + had seemed so indefinite during the years of war suddenly loomed up, very + large and menacing. Cecilia had less anxiety; she had a cheerful faith + that Bob would manage something—a three-roomed cottage somewhere in + the country, where he could look after sheep, or crops, or something of + the kind, while she cooked and mended for him, and grew such flowers as + had bloomed in the dear garden at Fontainebleau. Sheep and crops, she was + convinced, grew themselves, in the main; a person of Bob's ability would + surely find little difficulty in superintending the process. And, whatever + happened, nothing could be worse than life in Lancaster Gate. + </p> + <p> + Neither of them ever thought of appealing to their father, either for + advice or for help. He remained, as he had always been to them, utterly + colourless; a kind of well-bred shadow of his wife, taking no part in her + hard treatment of Cecilia, but lifting not a finger to save her. He did + not look happy; indeed, he seldom spoke—it was not necessary, when + Mrs. Rainham held the floor. He had a tiny den which he used as a + smoking-room, and there he spent most of his time when at home, being + blessed in the fact that his wife disliked the smell of smoke, and refused + to allow it in her drawing-room. Nobody took much notice of him. The + younger children treated him with cool indifference; Bob met him with a + kind of strained and uncomfortable civility. + </p> + <p> + Curiously enough, it was only Eliza who divined in him a secret hankering + after his eldest daughter—Cecilia, who would have been very much + astonished had anyone hinted at such a thing to her. The sharp eyes of the + little Cockney were not to be deceived in any matter concerning the only + person in the house who treated her as if she were a human being and not a + grate-cleaning automaton. + </p> + <p> + “You see 'im foller 'er wiv 'is eyes, that's all,” said Eliza to Cook, in + the privacy of their joint bedroom. “Fair 'ungry he looks, sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “No need for 'im to be 'ungry, if 'e 'ad the sperrit of a man,” said Cook + practically. “Ain't she 'is daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, in a manner of speakin',” said Eliza doubtfully. “But there + ain't much of father an' daughter about them two. I'd ruther 'ave my ole + man, down W'itechapel way; 'e can belt yer a fair terror, w'en 'e's drunk, + but 'e'll allers tike yer out an' buy yer a kipper arterwards. Thet's on'y + decent, fatherly feelin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Master don't belt 'er, does 'e?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but 'e don't buy 'er the kipper, neither. An' I'd ruther 'ave the + beltin' from my ole man, even wivout no kipper, than 'ave us allers + lookin' at each other as if we was wooden images. Even a beltin' shows as + 'ow a man 'as some regard for 'is daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “It do,” said Cook. “Pity is, you ain't 'ad more of it, that's the only + thing!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + PLAYING TRUANT + </h3> + <p> + “Demobilized! Oh, Bob—truly?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly and really,” said Bob. “At least, I shall be in twenty-seven days. + Got my orders. Show up for the last time on the fifteenth of next month. + Get patted on the head, and told to run away and play. That's the + programme, I believe, Tommy. The question is—What shall we play at?” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia brushed the hair from her brow. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” she said vaguely. “It's too big to think of; and I can't + think in this awful house, anyhow. Take me out, quick, please, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure,” said Bob, regarding her with an understanding eye. “But you want + to change or something, don't you, old girl?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I suppose I do,” said Cecilia, with a watery smile, looking at + her schoolroom overall. “I forgot clothes. I've had a somewhat packed + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You look as if this had been your busy day,” remarked Bob. “Right-oh, old + girl; jump into your things, and I'll wait on the mat. Any chance of the + she-dragon coming back?” + </p> + <p> + “No; she's gone out to tea.” + </p> + <p> + “More power to her,” said Bob cheerfully. “And the dragon puppies?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they're safely out of the way. I won't be five minutes, Bob. Don't + shut the door tight—you might disappear before I opened it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” said Bob, through the crack of the door. “I'm a fixture. Want + any shoes cleaned?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thanks, Bobby dear. I have everything ready.” + </p> + <p> + “From what the other fellows say about their sisters, I'm inclined to + believe that you're an ornament to your sex,” remarked Bob. “When you say + five minutes, it really does mean not more than five and a half, as a + rule; other girls seem to mean three-quarters of an hour.” + </p> + <p> + “I get all my things ready the night before when I'm going to meet you,” + said Cecilia. “Catch me losing any time on my one day out. You can come + back again—my coat's on the hanger there, Bobby.” He put her into it + deftly, and she leaned back against him. “If you knew how good it is to + see you again—and you smell of clean fresh air and good tobacco and + Russia leather, and all sorts of nice things.” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious, I'll excite attention in the street!” grinned Bob. “I + didn't imagine I was a walking scent-factory!” + </p> + <p> + “Neither you are—but everything in this house smells of coal-smoke + and cabbage-water and general fustiness, and you're a nice change, that's + all,” said Cecilia. They ran downstairs together light-heartedly, and let + themselves out into the street. + </p> + <p> + “Do we catch a train or a 'bus?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, can't we walk?” Cecilia said. “I think if I walked hard I might + forget Mrs. Rainham.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd hate you to remember her,” Bob said. “Tell me what she has been + doing, anyhow, and then we won't think of her any more.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't sound much,” Cecilia said. “There never is anything very much. + Only it goes on all the time.” She told him the story of her day, and + managed to make herself laugh now and then over it. But Bob did not laugh. + His good-humoured young face was set and angry. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't a whole lot in it, is there?” Cecilia finished. “And no one + would think I was badly off—especially when the thing that hit me + hardest of all was just dusting that awful drawing-room while she plays + her awful tunes. Yes, I know I shouldn't say awful, and that no lady says + it—that must be true because Mrs. Rainham frequently tells me so—but + it's such a relief to say whatever I feel like.” + </p> + <p> + “You can say what you jolly well please,” said Bob wrathfully. “Who's she, + I'd like to know, to tell us what to say? And she kept you there all the + afternoon, when she knew you were due to meet me!—my hat, she is a + venomous old bird! And now it's half-past four, and what time does she + expect you back?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—the usual thing; the children's tea-time at six. She told me not + to be late.” + </p> + <p> + Bob set his jaw. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you won't be late, because you won't be there,” he said. “No going + back to tea for you. We'll have dinner at the Petit Riche in Soho, and + then we'll do a theatre, and then I'll take you home and we'll face the + music. Are you game?” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Game? Why, of course—but there will be awful scenes, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what can she do to you?” asked Bob practically. “You're too big to + beat, or she'd certainly do it; she can't stop your pay, because you don't + get any; and as you have your meals with the youngsters, she can't dock + your rations. That doesn't leave her much beside her tongue. Of course, + she can do a good deal with that; do you think you can stand it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Cecilia. “You see, I generally have it, so it really + doesn't matter much. But if she forbids me to go out with you again, + Bobby?” + </p> + <p> + Bob pondered. + </p> + <p> + “Well—you're nineteen,” he said. “And the very first minute I can, + I'm going to take you away from her altogether. If you were a kid I + wouldn't let you defy her. But, hang it all, Tommy, I'm not going to let + her punish you as though you were ten. If she forbids you to meet me—well, + you must just take French leave, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Bob, you are a satisfying person!” said Cecilia, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know—it's you who will have to stand the racket,” + said Bob. “I only wish I could take my share, old girl. But, please + goodness, it won't be for long.” + </p> + <p> + “Bob,” said Cecilia, and paused. “What about that statement of hers—that + it would be illegal for you to take me away? Do you think it's true?” + </p> + <p> + “I've asked our Major, and he's a bit doubtful,” said Bob. “All the other + fellows say it's utter nonsense. But I'm going to ask the old lawyer chap + who has charge of Aunt Margaret's money—he'll tell me. We won't + bother about it, Tommy; if I can't get you politely, I'll steal you. Just + forget the she-dragon and all her works.” + </p> + <p> + “But have you thought about what you are going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think of much else, and that's the truth, Tommy,” said her + brother ruefully. “You see, there's mighty little in sight. I could get a + clerkship, I suppose. I could certainly get work as a day labourer. But I + don't see much in either of those possibilities towards a little home with + you, which is what I want. I'm going to answer every advertisement I can + find for fellows wanted on farms.” He straightened his square shoulders. + “Tommy, there must be plenty of work for any chap as strong as an ox, as I + am.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure there's work,” said Cecilia. “But the men who want jobs don't + generally advertise themselves as 'complete with sister.' I'm what's + technically known as an encumbrance, Bob.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” said Bob. “You're just part of the firm, so don't you forget it. + Didn't we always arrange that we should stick together?” + </p> + <p> + “We did—but it may not be easy to manage,” Cecilia said, doubtfully. + “Perhaps we could get some job together; I could do inside work, or teach, + or sew.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said Bob explosively. “If I can't earn enough for us both, I ought + to be shot, Aunt Margaret didn't bring you up to work.” + </p> + <p> + “But the world has turned upside down since Aunt Margaret died,” said + Cecilia. “And I have worked pretty hard for the last two years, Bob; and + it hasn't hurt me.” + </p> + <p> + “It has made you older—and you ought to be only a kid yet,” said Bob + wistfully. “You haven't had any of the fun girls naturally ought to have. + I don't want you to slave all your time, Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you!” said his sister. “But I wouldn't care a bit, as long as it + was near you—and not in Lancaster Gate.” + </p> + <p> + They had turned across Hyde Park, where a big company of girl guides was + drilling, watched by a crowd of curious on-lookers. Across a belt of grass + some boy scouts were performing similar evolutions, marching with all the + extra polish and swagger they could command, just to show the guides that + girls were all very well in their way, but that no one with skirts could + really hope to do credit to a uniform. Cecilia paused to watch them. + </p> + <p> + “Thank goodness, the children can come and drill in the park again!” she + said. “I hated to come here before the armistice—soldiers, soldiers, + drilling everywhere, and guns and searchlight fixings. Whenever I saw a + squad drilling it made me think of you, and of course I felt sure you'd be + killed!” + </p> + <p> + “I do like people who look on the bright side of life!” said Bob laughing. + “And whenever you saw an aeroplane I suppose you made sure I was crashing + somewhere?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I did,” said his sister with dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Women are queer things,” Bob remarked. “If you had these unpleasant + beliefs, how did you manage to write as cheerfully as you did? Your + letters were a scream—I used to read bits of 'em out to the + fellows.” + </p> + <p> + “You had no business to do any such thing,” said Cecilia, blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I did, anyhow. They used to make 'em yell. How did you manage + them?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was no good assuring you you'd be killed,” said Cecilia + practically. “I thought it was more sensible to try to make you laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly did that,” said Bob. “I fancied from your letters that life + with the she-dragon was one huge joke, and that Papa was nice and + companionable, and the kids, sweet little darlings who ate from your hand. + And all the time you were just the poor old toad under the harrow!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a toad!” rejoined his sister indignantly. “Don't you think you + could find pleasanter things to compare me to?” + </p> + <p> + “Toads aren't bad,” said Bob, laughing. “Ever seen the nice old fellow in + the Zoo who shoots out a tongue a yard long and picks up a grub every + time? He's quite interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly never had any inclination to do any such thing,” Cecilia + laughed. + </p> + <p> + They had turned into Piccadilly and were walking down, watching the + crowded motor traffic racing north and south. Suddenly Bob straightened up + and saluted smartly, as a tall staff officer, wearing a general's badges, + ran down the steps of a big club, and nearly cannoned into Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon!” he said—and then, noticing Bob—“How are + you, Rainham?” He dived into a waiting taxi, and was whisked away. + </p> + <p> + “Did he bump you?” inquired Bob. + </p> + <p> + “No—though it would be almost a privilege to be bumped by anyone as + splendid as that!” Cecilia answered. “He knows you, too!—who is he, + Bobby?” + </p> + <p> + “That's General Harran, the Australian,” said Bob proudly. “He's a great + man. I've run into him occasionally since I've been with the Australians + in France.” + </p> + <p> + “He looks nice.” + </p> + <p> + “He is nice,” replied Bob. “Awful martinet about duty, but he treats every + one under him jolly well. Never forgets a face or a name, and he's always + got a decent word for everybody. He's had some quite long talks to me, + when we were waiting for some 'plane or other to come back.” + </p> + <p> + “Why wouldn't he?” asked Cecilia, who considered it a privilege for anyone + to talk to her brother. + </p> + <p> + Bob regarded her in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious!” he ejaculated. “Why, he's a major-general; I can tell + you, most men of his rank haven't any use for small fry like me—to + talk to, that is.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia had a flash of memory. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he the general who was close by when you brought that German + aeroplane down behind our lines? Didn't he say nice things to you about + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that was only in the way of business,” said Bob somewhat confused. + “The whole thing was only a bit of luck—and, of course, it was luck, + too, that he was there. But he is just as nice to fellows who haven't had + a chance like that.” + </p> + <p> + Out of the crowd two more figures in Air Force uniform came, charging at + Bob with outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, old chap! What luck to meet you!” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands tumultuously, and Bob made them known to Cecilia—comrades + he had not seen for months, but with whom he had shared many strange + experiences in the years of war. They fell into quick talk, full of the + queer jargon of the air. The newcomers, it appeared, had been with the + army of occupation in Germany; there seemed a thousand things they + urgently desired to tell Bob within the next few minutes. One turned to + Cecilia, presently, with a laughing interpretation of some highly + technical bit of slang. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you needn't bother to translate to Tommy,” Bob said. “She knows all + about it.” + </p> + <p> + The other boys suddenly gave her all their attention. + </p> + <p> + “Are you Tommy? But we know you awfully well.” + </p> + <p> + “Me?” Cecilia turned pink. + </p> + <p> + “Rather. We used to hear your letters.” + </p> + <p> + The pink deepened to a fine scarlet. + </p> + <p> + “Bob!” said his sister reproachfully. “You really shouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't say that,” said the taller boy, by name Harrison. “They were a + godsend—there used to be jolly little to laugh about, pretty often, + and your letters made us all yell. Didn't they, Billy?” + </p> + <p> + “They did,” said Billy, who was small and curly-haired—and + incidentally a captain, with a little row of medal ribbons. “Jolliest + letters ever. We passed a vote of thanks to you in the mess, Miss Tommy, + after old Bob here had gone. Some one was to write and tell him about it, + but I don't believe anyone ever did. I say, you must have had a cheery + time—all the funny things that ever happened seemed to come your + way.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia stammered something, her scarlet confusion deepening. A rather + grim vision of the war years swept across her mind—of the ceaseless + quest in papers and journals, and wherever people talked, for “funny + things” to tell Bob; and of how, when fact and rumour gave out, she used + to sit by her attic window at night, deliberately inventing merry jests. + It had closely resembled a job of hard work at the time; but apparently it + had served its purpose well. She had made them laugh; and some one had + told her that no greater service could be rendered to the boys who risked + death, and worse than death, during every hour of the day and night. But + it was extremely difficult to talk about it afterwards. + </p> + <p> + Bob took pity on her. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you just what sort of a cheery time she had, some time or + other,” he remarked. “What are you fellows doing this evening?” + </p> + <p> + “We were just going to ask you the same thing,” declared Billy. “Can't we + all go and play about somewhere? We've just landed, and we want to be + looked after. Any theatres in this little town still?” + </p> + <p> + “Cheer-oh!” ejaculated Billy. “Let's all go and find out.” + </p> + <p> + So they went, and managed very successfully to forget war and even + stepmothers. They were all little more than children in enjoyment of + simple pleasures still, since war had fallen upon them at the very + threshold of life, cutting them off from all the cheery happenings that + are the natural inheritance of all young things. The years that would + ordinarily have seen them growing tired of play had been spent in grim + tasks; now they were children again, clamouring for the playtime they had + lost. They found enormous pleasure in the funny little French restaurant, + where Madame, a lady whose sympathies were as boundless as her waist, + welcomed them with wide smiles, delighting in the broken French of Billy + and Harrison, and deftly tempting them to fresh excursions in her + language. She put a question in infantile French to Bob presently, + whereupon that guileless youth, with a childlike smile, answered her with + a flood of idiomatic phrases, in an accent purer than her own—collapsing + with helpless laughter at her amazed face. After which, Madame neglected + her other patrons to hover about their table like a stout, presiding + goddess, guiding them gently to the best dishes on the menu, and + occasionally putting aside their own selection with a hasty, “Mon-non; you + vill not like that one to-day.” She patted Cecilia in a motherly fashion + at parting, and their bill was only about half what it should have been. + </p> + <p> + They found a musical comedy, and laughed their way through it—Billy + and Harrison had apparently no cares in the world, and Bob and Cecilia + were caught up in the whirl of their high spirits, so that anything became + a huge joke. The evening flew by on airy wings, when Billy insisted on + taking them to supper after the theatre. Cecilia allowed herself a + fleeting vision of Mrs. Rainham, and then, deciding that she might as well + be hanged for a sheep as a lamb, followed gaily. And supper was so cheery + a meal that she forgot all about time—until, just at the end, she + caught sight of the restaurant clock. + </p> + <p> + “Half-past eleven! Oh, Bobby!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if it is—you poor little old Cinderella,” said Bob. + </p> + <p> + But he hurried her away, for all that, amid a chorus of farewells and + efforts, on the part of Billy and Harrison, to arrange further meetings. + They ran to the nearest tube station, and dived into its depths; and, + after being whisked underground for a few minutes, emerged into the cool + night. Cecilia slipped her arm through her brother's as they hurried along + the empty street. + </p> + <p> + “Now, you keep your nose in the air,” Bobby told her. “You aren't exactly + a kid now, and she can't really do anything to you. Oh, by Jove—I + was thinking, in the theatre, she might interfere with our letters.” + </p> + <p> + “She's quite equal to it,” said Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + “Just what she'd revel in doing. Well, you can easily find out. I'll write + to you to-morrow, and again the next day—just ordinary letters, with + nothing particular in them except an arrangement to meet next Saturday. If + you don't get them you'll know she's getting at the mail first.” + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Drop me a line—or, better still, wire to me,” said Bob. “Just say, + 'Address elsewhere.' Then I'll write to you at Mr. M'Clinton's; the old + solicitor chap in Lincoln's Inn; and you'll have to go there and get the + letters. You know his address, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. I have to write to him every quarter when he sends me my + allowance. You'll explain to him, then, Bob, or he'll simply redirect your + letters here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course. I want to go and see the old chap, anyhow, to talk over + Aunt Margaret's affairs. I might as well know a little more about them. + Tommy, the she-dragon can't actually lock you up, can she?” + </p> + <p> + “No—it couldn't be done,” said Cecilia. “Modern houses aren't built + with dungeons and things. Moreover, if she tried to keep me in the house + she would have to take the children out for their walks herself; and she + simply hates walking.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you can certainly post to me, and get my letters, and I'll be up + again as soon as ever I can. Buck up, old girl—it can't be for long + now.” + </p> + <p> + They turned in at the Rainhams' front gate, and Cecilia glanced up + apprehensively. All the windows were in darkness; the grey front of the + house loomed forbiddingly in the faint moonlight. + </p> + <p> + “You're coming in, aren't you?” she asked, her hand tightening on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Rather—we'll take the edge off her tongue together.” Bob rang the + bell. “Wonder if they have all gone to bed. The place looks pretty dark.” + </p> + <p> + “She's probably in the little room at the back—the one she calls her + boudoir.” + </p> + <p> + “Horrible little den, full of bamboo and draperies and pampas grass—I + know,” nodded Bob. “Well, either she's asleep or she thinks it's fun to + keep us on the mat. I'll try her again.” He pressed the bell, and the + sound of its whirring echoed through the silent house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + COMING HOME + </h3> + <p> + The bolt grated, as if grudgingly, and slowly the door opened as far as + the limits of its chain would permit, and Mrs. Rainham's face appeared in + the aperture. She glared at them for a minute without speaking. + </p> + <p> + “So you have come home?” she said at last. The chain fell, and the door + opened. “I wonder you trouble to come home at all. May I ask where you + have been?” + </p> + <p> + “She has been with me, Mrs. Rainham,” Bob said cheerfully. “May I come + in?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rainham did not move. She held the door half open, blocking the way. + </p> + <p> + “It is far too late for me to ask you in,” she answered frigidly. “Cecilia + can explain her conduct, I presume.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there's really nothing to explain,” Bob answered. “It was so late + when she got out this afternoon that I kept her—why, it was after + half-past four before she was dressed.” + </p> + <p> + “I told her to be in for tea.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I felt sure you couldn't realize how late she was in getting + out,” said Bob in a voice of honey. + </p> + <p> + “That was entirely her own mismanagement—” began the hard tones. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, Mrs. Rainham; really it wasn't,” said Cecilia mildly. “Your + accompaniments, you remember—your dress—your music,” she + stopped, in amazement at herself. It was rarely indeed that she answered + any accusation of her stepmother's. But to be on the mat at midnight, with + Bob in support, seemed to give her extraordinary courage. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Mrs. Rainham, there seems to have been quite a number of little + details that Cecilia couldn't mismanage,” said Bob, following up the + advantage. It was happily evident that his stepmother's rage was + preventing her from speaking, and, as he remarked later, there was no + knowing when he would ever get such a chance again. “She really needed + rest. I'm sure you'll agree that every one is entitled to some free time. + Of course, you couldn't possibly have realized that it was a week since + she had been off duty.” + </p> + <p> + “It's her business to do what I tell her,” said Mrs. Rainham, finding her + voice, in an explosive fashion that made a passing policeman glance up + curiously. “She knew I had company, and expected her help. I had to see to + the children's tea myself. And how do I know where she's been?—gallivanting + round to all sorts of places! I tell you, young lady, you needn't think + you're going to walk in here at midnight as if nothing was the matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I never expected to,” said Cecilia cheerfully. “But it was worth it.” + </p> + <p> + Bob regarded her in solemn admiration. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think we gallivanted at all reprehensibly,” he said. “Just dinner + and a theatre. I haven't made much claim to her time during the last four + years, Mrs. Rainham; surely I'm entitled to a little of it now.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” Mrs. Rainham's tone was vicious. “You don't give her a home, do + you? And as long as I do, she'll do what I tell her.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I don't give her a home—yet,” said Bob very quietly. “But I + very soon will, I assure you; and meanwhile, she earns a good deal more + than her keep in her father's house. You can't treat her worse than your + servants—” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia suddenly turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, don't, Bob darling. It doesn't matter—truly—not a bit.” + With the end of the long penance before her, it seemed beyond the power of + the angry woman in the doorway to hurt her much. What she could not bear + was that their happy evening should be spoiled by hard and cruel words at + its close. Bob's face, that had been so merry, was sterner than she had + ever seen it, all its boyishness gone. She put up her own face, and kissed + him. + </p> + <p> + “Good night—you mustn't stay any longer. I'll be all right.” She + whispered a few quick words of French, begging him to go, and Bob, though + unwillingly, gave in. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said. “Go to bed, little 'un. I'll do as I promised about + writing.” He saluted Mrs. Rainham stiffly. “You'll remember, Mrs. Rainham, + that she stayed out solely at my wish—I take full responsibility, + and I'll be ready to tell my father so.” The door closed behind Cecilia, + and he strode away down the street, biting his lip. He felt abominably as + though he had deserted the little sister—and yet, what else could he + do? One could not remain for ever, brawling on a doorstep at midnight—and + Tommy had begged him to go. Still— + </p> + <p> + “Hang it!” he said viciously. “If she were only a decent Hun to fight!” + </p> + <p> + In the grim house in Lancaster Gate Cecilia was facing the music alone. + She listened unmoved, as she had listened many times before, to the + catalogue of her sins and misdeeds—only she had never seen her + stepmother quite so angry. Finally, a door above opened, and Mark Rainham + looked out, his dull, colourless face weakly irritable. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd stop that noise, and let the girl go to bed,” he said. “Come + here, Cecilia.” + </p> + <p> + She went to him hesitating, and he looked at her with a spark of + compassion. Then he kissed her. + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” he said, as though he had called her to him simply to say + it, and not to separate her from the furious woman who stood looking at + them. “Run off to bed, now—no more talking.” Cecilia ran upstairs + obediently. Behind her, as she neared her attic, she heard her + stepmother's voice break out anew. + </p> + <p> + “Just fancy Papa!” she muttered. Any mother sensations were lost in wonder + at her father's actually having intervened. The incredible thing had + happened. For a moment she felt a wave of pity for him, left alone to face + the shrill voice. Then she shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well—he married her,” she said. “I suppose he has had it many a + time. Perhaps he knows how to stop it—I don't!” She laughed, turning + the key in the lock, and sitting down beside the open window. The glamour + of her happy evening was still upon her; even the scene with her + stepmother had not had power to chase it away. The scene was only to be + expected; the laughter of the evening was worth so every-day a penalty. + And the end of Mrs. Rainham's rule was nearly in sight. Not even to + herself for a moment would she admit that there was any possibility of Bob + failing to “make good” and take her away. + </p> + <p> + She went downstairs next morning to an atmosphere of sullen resentment. + Her father gave her a brief, abstracted nod, in response to her greeting, + and went on with his bacon and his Daily Mail; her stepmother's forbidding + expression checked any attempt at conversation. The children stared at her + with a kind of malevolent curiosity; they knew that a storm had been + brewing for her the night before, and longed to know just how thoroughly + she had “caught it.” Eliza, bringing in singed and belated toast, looked + at her with pity, tinged with admiration. Cook and she had been awakened + at midnight by what was evidently, in the words of Cook, “a perfickly + 'orrible bust-up,” and knowing Cecilia to have been its object, Eliza + looked at her as one may look who expects to see the scars of battle. + Finding none, but receiving instead a cheerful smile, she returned to the + kitchen, and reported to Cook that Miss Cecilia was “nuffink less than a + neroine.” + </p> + <p> + But as that day and the next wore on, Cecilia found it difficult to be + cheerful. That she was in disgrace was very evident, Mrs. Rainham said no + more about her sins of the night before; instead, she showed her + displeasure by a kind of cold rudeness that gave a subtle insult to her + smallest remark. The children were manifestly delighted. Cecilia was more + or less in the position of a beetle on a pin, and theirs was the precious + opportunity of seeing her wriggle. Wherefore they adopted their mother's + tone, openly defied her, and turned school-hours into a pandemonium. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia at last gave up the attempt to keep order. She opened her desk and + took out her knitting. + </p> + <p> + “Well, this is all very pleasant,” she said, calmly. “You seem determined + to do no work at all, so I can only hope that in time you will get tired + of being idle. I can't attempt to teach you any more. I am quite ready, + however, if you bring your lessons to me.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll get into a nice row from the Mater,” jeered Wilfred. + </p> + <p> + “Very possibly. She may even punish me by finding another governess,” said + Cecilia, with a twinkle. “However that may be, I do not feel compelled to + talk to such rude little children as you any more. When you are able to + speak politely you may come to me for anything you want; until then, I + shall not answer you.” She bent her attention to the mysteries of + heel-turning. + </p> + <p> + The children were taken aback. To pinprick with rudeness a victim who + answered back was entertaining; but there was small fun in baiting anybody + who sat silently knitting with a half-smile of contempt at the corners of + her mouth. They gave it up after a time, and considered the question of + going out; a pleasant thing to do, only that their mother had laid upon + them a special injunction not to leave Cecilia, and she was in a mood that + made disobedience extremely dangerous. Cecilia quite understood that she + was being watched. No letters had yet come from Bob, and she knew that her + stepmother had been hovering near the letter-box whenever the postman had + called. Mrs. Rainham had accompanied them on their walk the day before; a + remark of Avice's revealed that she meant to do so again to-day. + </p> + <p> + “It's all so silly,” the girl said to herself. “If I chose to dive into a + tube station or board a motor-bus she couldn't stop me; and she can't go + on watching me and intercepting my letters indefinitely. I suppose she + will get tired of it after a while.” But meanwhile she found the spying + rather amusing. Avice popped up unexpectedly if she went near the front + door; Wilfred's bullet head peeped in through the window whenever she + fancied herself alone in the schoolroom. Only her attic was safe—since + to spy upon it would have required an aeroplane. + </p> + <p> + The third day brought no letter from Bob. Cecilia asked for her mail when + she went down to breakfast, and was met by a blank stare from her + stepmother—“I suppose if there had been any letters for you they + would be on your plate.” She flushed a little under the girl's direct + gaze, and turned her attention to Queenie's table manners, which were at + all times peculiar; and Cecilia sat down with a faint smile. It was time + to obey orders and telegraph to Bob. + </p> + <p> + She planned how to do it, during a long morning when the children actually + did some work—since to be rude or idle meant that their teacher + immediately retired into her shell of silence, and knitted, and life + became too dull. To employ Eliza was her first thought—rejected, + since it seemed unlikely that Eliza would be able to get time off to go + out. If Mrs. Rainham's well-known dislike for walking proved too strong + for her desire to watch her stepdaughter, it would be easy enough to do it + during the afternoon; but this hope proved vain, for when she appeared in + the hall with her charges at three o'clock the lady of the house sailed + from the drawing-room, ready for the march. They moved off in procession; + Mrs. Rainham leading the way, with Avice and Wilfred, while Cecilia + brought up the rear, holding Queenie's podgy hand. + </p> + <p> + She had telegraph forms in her desk, and the message, already written, and + even stamped, was in the pocket of her coat. There was nothing for it but + to act boldly, and accordingly, when they entered a street in which there + was a post office, she let Queenie lag until they were a little distance + behind the others. Then, as they reached the post office, she turned + sharply in. + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, Queenie.” + </p> + <p> + She thrust her message across the counter hurriedly. The clerk on duty was + provokingly slow; he finished checking a document, and then lounged across + to the window and took the form, running over it leisurely. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you've got the stamps on. All right,” he said, and turned away just + as quick steps were heard, and Mrs. Rainham bustled in, panting. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia met her with steady eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing wrong, I assure you.” She had had visions of covering her real + purpose by buying stamps—but rejected it with a shrug. + </p> + <p> + “Thethilia gave the man a pieth of paper!” said Queenie shrilly. + </p> + <p> + “What was it? I demand to know!” cried Mrs. Rainham. She turned to the + clerk, who stood open-mouthed, holding the telegram in his hand. “Show me + that telegram. I am this young lady's guardian.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk grinned broadly. The stout and angry lady made no appeal to him, + and Cecilia was a pretty girl, and moreover her telegram was for a flying + captain. The clerk wore a returned soldier's badge himself. He fell back + on Regulations. + </p> + <p> + “Can't be done, ma'am. The message is all in order.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Much as my billet's worth, if I did,” said the clerk. “Property of the + Postmaster-General now, ma'am. Couldn't even give it back to the young + lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll report you!” Mrs. Rainham fumed. + </p> + <p> + “Do, ma'am. I'll get patted on the head for doin' me duty.” The clerk's + grin widened. Cecilia wished him good afternoon gravely, and slipped out + of the office, pursued by her stepmother. + </p> + <p> + “What was in that telegram?” + </p> + <p> + “It was to my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “What was in it?” + </p> + <p> + “It was to Bob, and that is guarantee that there was nothing wrong in it,” + Cecilia said steadily. “It was on private business.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no right to have any business that I do not know about.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia found her temper rising. + </p> + <p> + “My father may have the power to say that—I do not know,” she said. + “But you have none, Mrs. Rainham.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll let you see whether I have the right!” her stepmother blazed. “For + two pins, young lady, I'd lock you up.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia laughed outright. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's not done now,” she said. “You really couldn't, Mrs. Rainham—especially + as I have done nothing wrong.” She dropped her voice—passers-by were + looking with interest at the elder woman's face. “Why not let me go? You + do not approve of me—let me find another position.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll stay in your father's house,” Mrs. Rainham said. “We'll see what + the law has to say to your leaving with your precious Bob. Your father's + your legal guardian, and in his control you stay until you're twenty-one, + and be very thankful to make yourself useful. The law will deal with Bob + if he tries to take you away—you're a minor, and it'd be abduction.” + The word had a pleasantly legal flavour; she repeated it with emphasis. + “Abduction; that's what it is, and there's a nice penalty for it. Now you + know, and if you don't want to get Bob into trouble, you'd best be + careful.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia had grown rather white. The law was a great and terrible + instrument, of which she knew nothing. It seemed to have swallowed up Aunt + Margaret's money; it might very well have left her defenceless. Her + stepmother seemed familiar with its powers, and able to evoke them at + will; and though she did not trust her, there was something in her glib + utterance that struck fear into the girl's heart. She did not answer, and + Mrs. Rainham followed up her advantage. + </p> + <p> + “We'll go home,” she said. “And you make up your mind to tell me what was + in that telegram, and not to have any secrets from me. One thing I can + tell you—until you decide to behave yourself—Bob shan't show + his nose in my house, and you shan't go out to meet him, either. He only + leads you into mischief; I don't consider he has at all a good influence + over you. The sooner he's away somewhere, earning his own living in a + proper manner, the better for every one; and it'll be many a long day + before he can give you as good a home as you've got now.” She paused for + breath. “Anyhow, he's not going to have the chance,” she finished grimly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + THE TURN OF FORTUNE'S WHEEL + </h3> + <p> + “Is Mr. M'Clinton in?” + </p> + <p> + The clerk, in a species of rabbit hutch, glanced out curiously at the + young flying officer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he's very busy. Have you an appointment?” + </p> + <p> + “No—I got leave unexpectedly. Just take him my card, will you?” + </p> + <p> + The clerk handed the card to another clerk, who passed it to an + office-boy, who disappeared with it behind a heavy oaken door. He came + back presently. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. M'Clinton will see you in ten minutes, if you can wait, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll wait,” said Bob, sitting down upon a high stool. “Got a paper?” + </p> + <p> + “To-day's Times is here, sir.” He whisked off, to return in a moment with + the paper, neatly folded. + </p> + <p> + “You'll find a more comfortable seat behind the screen, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” said Bob, regarding him with interest—he was so dapper, so + alert, so all that an office-boy in a staid lawyer's establishment ought + to be. “How old might you be?” + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And are you going to grow into a lawyer?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I'll never do that, sir,” said the office-boy gravely. “I may + be head clerk, perhaps. But—” he stopped, confused. + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd rather fly, sir, than anything in the world!” He looked worshippingly + at Bob's uniform. “If the war had only not stopped before I was old + enough, I might have had a chance!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you'll have plenty of chances,” Bob told him consolingly. “In five + years' time you'll be taking Mr. M'Clinton's confidential papers across to + Paris in an aeroplane—and bringing him back a reply before lunch!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so, sir?” The office-boy's eyes danced. Suddenly he resumed + his professional gravity. + </p> + <p> + “I must get back to my work, sir.” He disappeared behind another + partition; the office seemed to Bob to be divided into water-tight + compartments, in each of which he imagined that a budding lawyer or head + clerk was being brought up by hand. It was all rather grim and solid and + forbidding. To Bob the law had always been full of mystery; this grey, + silent office, in the heart of the city, was a fitting place for it. He + felt a little chill at his heart, a foreboding that no comfort could come + of his mission there. + </p> + <p> + The inner door opened, after a little while, and a woman in black came + out. She passed hurriedly through the outer office, pulling down her veil + over a face that showed traces of tears. Bob looked after her + compassionately. + </p> + <p> + “Poor soul!” he thought. “She's had her gruel, evidently. Now I suppose + I'll get mine.” + </p> + <p> + A bell whirred sharply. The alert office-boy sprang to the summons, + returning immediately. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. M'Clinton can see you now, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Bob followed him through the oaken door, and along a narrow passage to a + room where a spare, grizzled man sat at a huge roll-top desk. He rose as + the boy shut the door behind his visitor. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Captain Rainham. How do you do?” + </p> + <p> + Bob gripped the lean hand offered him—it felt like a claw in his + great palm. Then he sat down and looked uncomfortably at the lawyer. + </p> + <p> + “I had thought to have seen you here before, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I should have shown up,” said Bob—concealing the fact + that the idea had never occurred to him. “But I've been very busy since + I've been back to England.” + </p> + <p> + “And what brings you now?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all but demobilized,” Bob told him, “and I'm trying to get + employment.” + </p> + <p> + “What—in this office?” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, no!” ejaculated Bob, and at once turned a fine red. “That is—I + beg your pardon, sir; but I'm afraid I'm not cut out for an office. I want + to get something to do in the country, where I can support my sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister? But does not your father support her? She is an inmate of + his house, is she not?” + </p> + <p> + “Very much so,” said Bob bitterly. “She's governess, and lady-help, and a + good many other things. You couldn't call it a home. Besides, we have + always been together. I want to take her away.” + </p> + <p> + “And what does your father say?” + </p> + <p> + “He says she mustn't go. At least, that's what my stepmother says, so my + father will certainly say it too.” + </p> + <p> + “Your sister is under age, I think?” + </p> + <p> + “She's just nineteen—I'm over twenty-two. Can my father prevent her + going with me, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Mph,” said the lawyer, pondering. “Do I gather that the young lady is + unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + “If she isn't, it's because she has pluck enough for six people, and + because she always hopes to get away.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you consider that you could support her?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Bob unhappily. “I would certainly have thought I + could, but there seems mighty little chance for a fellow whose only + qualification is that he's been fighting Huns for nearly five years. I've + answered advertisements and interviewed people until my brain reels; but + there's nothing in it, and I can't leave Tommy there.” + </p> + <p> + “Tommy?” queried the lawyer blankly. + </p> + <p> + Bob laughed. + </p> + <p> + “My sister, I mean, sir. Her name's Cecilia, but, of course, we've never + called her that. Even Aunt Margaret called her Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. M'Clinton made no reply. He thought deeply for a few moments. Then he + looked up, and there was a glint of kindness in his hard grey eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I think you had better tell me all about it, Captain Rainham. Would it + assist you to smoke?” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks awfully, sir,” said Bob, accepting the proffered cigarette. He + plunged into his story; and if at times it was a trifle incoherent, + principally from honest wrath, yet on the whole Cecilia's case lost + nothing in the telling. The lawyer nodded from time to time, + comprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” he said at last, when Bob paused. “Just so, just so. And why did + you come to me, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + “I want your advice, sir,” Bob answered. “And I should like to know + something about my aunt's property—if I can hope for any help from + that source. I should have more chance of success if I had a little + capital to start with. But I understand that most of it was lost. My + father seemed very disappointed over the small amount she left.” He + hesitated. “But apart from money, I should like to know if I am within the + law in taking my sister away.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. M'Clinton thought deeply before replying. + </p> + <p> + “I had better speak frankly to you, Captain Rainham,” he said. “Your aunt, + as you probably know, did not like your father. I am not sure that she + actually distrusted him. But she considered him weak and indolent, and she + recognized that he was completely under the thumb of his second wife. Your + late aunt, my old friend, had an abhorrence for that lady that was quaint, + considering that she had scarcely ever seen her.” He permitted himself the + ghost of a smile. “She was deeply afraid of any of her property coming + under the control of your father—and through him, of his wife. And + so she tied up her money very carefully. She left direct to you and your + sister certain assets. The rest of her property she left, in trust, to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “To you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye. Very carefully tied up, too,” said Mr. M'Clinton, with a twinkle. “I + can't make ducks and drakes of it, no matter how much I may wish to. It is + tied up until your sister comes of age. Then my trust ceases.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” Bob stared at him. “Then—do we get something?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. Unfortunately, many of your aunt's investments were very hard + hit through the war. Certain stocks which paid large dividends ceased to + pay altogether; others fell to very little. The sum left to you and your + sister for immediate use should have been very much larger, but all that + is left of it is the small allowance paid to you both. I imagine that a + smart young officer like yourself found it scarcely sufficient for + tobacco.” + </p> + <p> + “I've saved it all,” said Bob simply. “A bit more, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Saved it!” said the lawyer in blank amazement. “Do you tell me, now? You + lived on your pay?” + </p> + <p> + “Flying pay's pretty good,” said Bob. “And there was always Tommy to think + of, you know, sir. I had to put something away for her, in case I + crashed.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” said Mr. M'Clinton. “Your aunt had great confidence in you as a + boy, and it seems she was justified. I'm very glad to hear this, Captain, + for it enables me to do with a clear conscience something which I have the + power to do. There is a discretionary clause in your aunt's will, which + gives me power to realize a certain sum of money, should you need it. I + could hand you over about three thousand pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Three thousand!” Bob stared at him blankly. + </p> + <p> + “Aye. And I see no reason why I should not do it—provided I am + satisfied as to the use you will make of it. As a matter of form I should + like a letter from your commanding officer, testifying to your general + character.” + </p> + <p> + “That's easy enough,” said Bob. “But—three thousand! My hat, what a + difference it will make to Tommy and me! Poor old Aunt Margaret—I + might have known she'd look after us.” + </p> + <p> + “She loved you very dearly. And now, Captain, about your sister.” + </p> + <p> + “She's the big thing,” said Bob. “Can I kidnap her?” + </p> + <p> + “It's rather difficult to say just how your father might act. Left to + himself, I do not believe he would do anything. But urged by your + stepmother, he might make trouble. And the good lady is more likely to + make trouble if she suspects that there is any money coming to your + sister.” + </p> + <p> + “That's very certain,” Bob remarked. “I wish to goodness I could get her + right out of England, sir. How about Canada?” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer pondered. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know any one there?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a soul. But I suppose one could get introductions. And one can always + get Government expert advice there, I believe, to prevent one chucking + away one's money foolishly.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. M'Clinton nodded approvingly. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, but you might do worse,” he said. “I believe in these new + countries for young people; the old ones are getting overcrowded and worn + out. And your relations are likely to give trouble if you are within their + reach. A terrible woman, that stepmother of yours; a terrible woman. She + came to see me with your father; he said nothing, but she talked like a + mill-race. Miss Tommy has my full sympathy. A brawling woman in a wide + house, as the Scripture says. I reproach myself, Captain, that I did not + inquire personally into Miss Tommy's well-being. She told you nothing of + her trials, you say, during the war?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word. Wrote as if life were a howling joke always. I only found out + for myself by accident a few months ago.” + </p> + <p> + “A brave lassie. Well, I'll do what I can to help you, Captain. I'll keep + a lookout for a likely land investment for your money, and endeavour to + prepare a good legal statement to frighten Mrs. Rainham if she objects to + your taking your sister away. Much may be done by bluffing, especially if + you do it very solemnly and quietly. So keep a good heart, and come and + see me next time you're in London. Miss Tommy will be in any day, I + presume, after the telegram you told me about?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure to be,” said Bob. “She'll be anxious for her letters. I'm leaving + one for her, if you don't mind, and I'll write to her again to-night.” He + got up, holding out his hand. “Good-bye—and I don't know how to + thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless the boy—you've nothing to thank me for,” said the lawyer. + “Just send me that letter from your commanding officer, and remember that + there's no wild hurry about plans—Miss Tommy can stand for a few + weeks longer what she has borne for two years.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose she can—but I don't want her to,” Bob said. + </p> + <p> + The brisk office-boy showed him out, and he marched down the grey streets + near Lincoln's Inn with his chin well up. Life had taken a sudden and + magical turn for the better. Three thousand pounds!—surely that + meant no roughing it for Tommy, but a comfortable home and a chance of + success in life. It seemed a sum of enormous possibilities. Everything was + very vague still, but at least the money was certain—it seemed like + fairy gold. He felt a sudden desire to get away somewhere, with Tommy, + away from crowded England to a country where a man could breathe; his + heart rejoiced at the idea, just as he had often exulted when his + aeroplane had lifted him away from the crowded, buzzing camp, into the + wide, free places of the air. Canada called to him temptingly. His brain + was seething with plans to go there when, waiting for a chance to cross a + crowded thoroughfare, he heard his own name. + </p> + <p> + “Asleep, Rainham?” + </p> + <p> + Bob looked up with a start. General Harran, the Australian, was beside + him, also waiting for a break in the crawling string of motor-buses and + taxi-cabs. He was smiling under his close-clipped moustache. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, sir,” stammered the boy, coming to the salute stiffly. + “I was in a brown study, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “You looked it. I spoke to you twice before you heard me. What is it?—demobilization + problems?” + </p> + <p> + “Just that, sir,” said Bob, grinning. “Most of us have got them, I suppose—fellows + of my age, anyhow. It's a bit difficult to come down to earth again, after + years spent in the air.” + </p> + <p> + “Very difficult,” Harran agreed gravely. He glanced down with interest at + the alert face and square-built figure of the boy beside him. There were + so many of them, these boys who had played with Death for years. They have + saved their country from horror and ruin, and now it seemed very doubtful + if their country wanted them. They were in every town in England, looking + for work; their pitiful, plucky advertisements greeted the eye in every + newspaper. The problem of their future interested General Harran keenly. + He liked his boys; their freshness and pluck and unspoiled enthusiasm had + been a tonic to him during the long years of war. Now it hurt him that + they should be looking for the right to live. + </p> + <p> + “I'm just going to lunch, Rainham,” he said. “Would you care to come with + me?” + </p> + <p> + Bob lifted a quaintly astonished face. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, awfully, sir,” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Then jump on this 'bus, and we'll go to my club,” said the General, + swinging his lean, athletic body up the stairs of a passing motor-'bus as + he spoke. Bob followed, and they sped, rocking, through the packed traffic + until the General, who had sat in silence, jumped up, threaded his way + downstairs, and dropped to the ground again from the footboard of the + hurrying 'bus—with a brief shake of the head to the conductor, who + was prepared to check the speed of his craft to accommodate a passenger + with such distinguished badges of rank. Bob was on the ground almost as + quickly, and they turned out of the crowded street into a quieter one that + presently led them into a silent square, where dignified grey houses + looked out upon green trees, and the only traffic was that of gliding + motors. General Harran led the way into one of the grey houses, up the + steps of which officers were constantly coming and going. A grizzled + porter in uniform, with the Crimean medal on his tunic, swung the door + open and came smartly to attention as they passed through. The General + greeted him kindly. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, O'Shea? The rheumatism better?” + </p> + <p> + “It is, sir, thank you.” They passed on, through a great hall lined with + oil-paintings of famous soldiers, and trophies of big game from all over + the world; for this was a Service club, bearing a proud record of soldier + and sailor members for a hundred years. Presently they were in the + dining-room, already crowded. The waiter found them a little table in a + quiet corner. + </p> + <p> + There was a sprinkling of men whom Bob already knew; he caught several + friendly nods of recognition us he glanced round. Then General Harran + pointed out others to him—Generals, whose names were household words + in England—a notable Admiral, and a Captain with the V.C. ribbon—earned + at Zeebrugge. He seemed to know every one, and once or twice he left his + seat to speak to a friend—during which absence Bob's friends shot + him amazed glances, with eyebrows raised in astonishment that he should be + lunching with a real Major-General. Bob was somewhat tongue-tied with + bewilderment over the fact himself. But when their cold beef came, General + Harran soon put him at his ease, leading him to talk of himself and his + plans with quiet tact. Before Bob fairly realized it he had unfolded all + his little story—even to Tommy and her hardships. The General + listened with interest. + </p> + <p> + “And was it Tommy I saw you with on Saturday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. She was awfully interested because it was you,” blurted Bob. + “You see, she and I have always been pals. I'm jolly keen to get some + place to take her to.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think of Canada. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—I really don't know, except that it would be out of reach of + England and unpleasantness,” Bob answered. “And my money would go a lot + further there than here, wouldn't it, sir? Three thousand won't buy much + of a place in England—not to make one's living by, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true. I advise every youngster to get out to one of the new + countries, and, of course, a man with a little capital has a far greater + chance. But why Canada? Why not Australia?” + </p> + <p> + “There's no reason why not,” said Bob laughing. “Only it seems further + away. I don't know more of one country than the other—except the + sort of vague idea we all have that Canada is all cold and Australia all + heat!” + </p> + <p> + General Harran laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—the average Englishman's ideas about the new countries are + pretty sketchy,” he said. “People always talk to me about the fearfully + hot climate of Australia, and seem mildly surprised if I remark that we + have about a dozen different climates, and that we have snow and ice, and + very decent winter sports, in Victoria. I don't think they believe me, + either. But seriously, Rainham, if you have no more leaning towards one + country than the other, why not think of Australia? I could help you + there, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “You, sir!” Bob stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can pull strings. I dare say I could manage a passage out for you + and your sister—you see, you were serving with the Australians, and + you're both desirable immigrants—young and energetic people with a + little capital. That would be all right, I think, especially now that the + first rush is over. And I could give you plenty of introductions in + Australia to the right sort of people. You ought to see something of the + country, and what the life and work are, before investing your money. It + would be easy enough to get you on to a station or big farm—you to + learn the business, and your sister to teach or help in the house. She + wouldn't mind that for about a year, with nice people, would she?” + </p> + <p> + “Not she!” said Bob. “It was her own idea, in fact; only I didn't want to + let her work. But I can see that it might be best. Only I don't know how + to thank you, sir—I never imagined—” + </p> + <p> + General Harran cut him short. + </p> + <p> + “Don't worry about that. If I can help you, or any of the flying boys, out + of a difficulty, and at the same time get the right type of settlers for + Australia—she needs them badly—then I'm doing a + double-barrelled job that I like. But see here—do I understand that + what you really want to do is to take your sister without giving your + father warning? To kidnap her, in short?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see anything else to do, sir. I spoke to him a while ago about + taking her away, and he only hummed and hawed and said he'd consult Mrs. + Rainham. And my stepmother will never let her go as long as she can keep + her as a drudge. We owe them nothing—he's never been a father to us, + and as for my stepmother—well, she should owe Tommy for two years' + hard work. But honestly, to all intents and purposes, they are strangers + to us—it seems absolutely ridiculous that we should be controlled by + them.” + </p> + <p> + “You say your aunt's family lawyer approves?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, or he wouldn't let me have the money. I could get him to see you, + sir, if you like; though I don't see why you should be bothered about us,” + said Bob flushing. + </p> + <p> + “Give me his address—I'll look in on him next time I'm in Lincoln's + Inn,” said the General. “Your own, too. Now, if I get you and your sister + passages on a troopship, can you start at short notice—say + forty-eight hours?” + </p> + <p> + Bob gasped, but recovered himself. After all, his training in the air had + taught him to make swift decisions. + </p> + <p> + “Any time after the fifteenth, sir. I'll be demobilized then, and a free + agent. I'll get my kit beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't get much,” counselled the General. “You can travel in uniform—take + flannels for the tropics; everything you need in Australia you can get + just as well, or better, out there. Most fellows who go out take tons of + unnecessary stuff. Come into the smoking-room and give me a few more + details.” + </p> + <p> + They came out upon the steps of the club a little later. Bob's head was + whirling. He tried to stammer out more thanks and was cut short, kindly + but decisively. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, my boy. I'll send you letters of introduction to + various people who will help you, and a bit of advice about where to go + when you land. Tell your sister not to be nervous—she isn't going to + a wild country, and the people there are much the same as anywhere else. + Now, good-bye, and good luck”; and Bob found himself walking across the + Square in a kind of solemn amazement. + </p> + <p> + “This morning I was thinking of getting taken on as a farm hand in + Devonshire, with Tommy somewhere handy in a labourer's cottage,” he + pondered. “And now I'm a bloated capitalist, and Tommy and I are going + across the world to Australia as calmly as if we were off to Margate for + the day! Well, I suppose it's only a dream, and I'll wake up soon. I guess + I'd better go back and tell Mr. M'Clinton; and I've got to see Tommy + somehow.” He bent his brows over the problem as he turned towards + Lincoln's Inn. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + SAILING ORDERS + </h3> + <p> + “Are you there, miss?” + </p> + <p> + The sepulchral whisper came faintly to Cecilia's ears as she sat in her + little room, sewing a frock of Queenie's. The children were out in the + garden at the back of the house. Mrs. Rainham was practising in the + drawing-room. The sound of a high trill floated upwards as she opened the + door. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a letter, miss. A kid brought it to the kitchen door—a bit of + a boy. Arsked for me as if 'e'd known me all 'is life—called me + Elizer! 'E's waitin' for an answer. I'll wait in me room, miss, till you + calls me.” The little Cockney girl slipped away, revelling in furthering + any scheme to defeat Mrs. Rainham and help Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia opened the letter hurriedly. It contained only one line. + </p> + <p> + “Can you come at once to Lincoln's Inn? Important.—BOB.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia knitted her brows. It was nearly a month since the memorable + evening when she and Bob had revolted; and though she was still made to + feel herself in disgrace, and she knew her letters were watched, the close + spying upon her movements had somewhat relaxed. It had been too + uncomfortable for Mrs. Rainham to keep it up, since it made heavy demands + upon her own time, and interfered with too many plans; moreover, in spite + of it, Cecilia had slipped away from the house two or three times, going + and coming openly, and replying to any questions by the simple answer that + she had been to meet Bob. Angry outbreaks on the part of her stepmother + she received in utter silence, against which the waves of Mrs. Rainham's + wrath spent themselves in vain. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the girl lived in a kind of waking dream of happy anticipation, + beside which none of the trials of life in Lancaster Gate had power to + trouble her. For on her first stolen visit to Mr. M'Clinton's office the + wonderful plan of flight to Australia had been revealed to her, and the + joy of the prospect blotted out everything else. Mr. M'Clinton, watching + her face, had been amazed by the wave of delight that had swept over it. + </p> + <p> + “You like it, then?” he had said. “You are not afraid to go so far?” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid—with Bob? Oh, the farther I can get from England the + better,” she had answered. “I have no friends here; nothing to leave, + except the memory of two bad years. And out there I should feel safe—she + could not get a policeman to bring me back.” There was no need to ask who + “she” was. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia had made her preparations secretly. She had not much to do—Aunt + Margaret had always kept her well dressed, and the simple and pretty + things she had worn two years before, and which had never been unpacked + since she put on mourning for her aunt, still fitted her, and were + perfectly good. It had never seemed worth while to leave off wearing + mourning in Lancaster Gate—only when Bob had come home had she + unpacked some of her old wardrobe. Much was packed still, and in store + under Mr. M'Clinton's direction, together with many of Aunt Margaret's + personal possessions. It was as well that it was so, since Mrs. Rainham + had managed to annex a proportion of Cecilia's things for Avice. To + Lancaster Gate she had only taken a couple of trunks, not dreaming of + staying there more than a short time. So packing and flitting would be + easy, given ordinary luck and the certain co-operation of Eliza. Her few + necessary purchases had been made on one of her hurried excursions with + Bob; she had not dared to have the things sent home, and they had been + consigned in a tin uniform case to Bob's care. + </p> + <p> + She pondered over his note now, knitting her brows. It would be easy + enough to act defiantly and go at once; but if this meant that the final + flight were near at hand she did not wish to excite anew her stepmother's + anger and suspicion. Then, as she hesitated, she heard a heavy step on the + stairs, and she crushed the note hurriedly into her pocket. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Rainham came into the room without the formality of knocking—a + formality she had never observed where Cecilia was concerned. The + afternoon post had just come, and she carried some letters in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Cecilia, I want you to put on your things and go to Balding's for me,” + she said, her voice more civil than it had been for a month. “I'm asked up + to Liverpool for a few days; my sister there is giving a big At Home—an + awfully big thing, with the Lady Mayoress and all the Best People at it—and + she wants me to go up. I suppose she'll want me to sing.” + </p> + <p> + “That is nice,” said Cecilia, speaking with more truth than Mrs. Rainham + guessed. “What will you wear?” + </p> + <p> + “That's just it,” said her stepmother eagerly. “My new evening dress isn't + quite finished—we ran short of trimming. I can't go out, because the + Simons are coming in to afternoon tea; so you just hurry and go over to + Balding's to match it. I got it there, and they had plenty. Here's a bit.” + She held out a fragment of gaudy sequin trimming. “I think you could + finish the dress without me getting in the dressmaker again—she's + that run after she makes a regular favour of coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Cecilia—who would, at the moment, have agreed to + sew anything or everything that might hasten her stepmother's journey. + “When do you go?” + </p> + <p> + “The day after to-morrow. I'll stay there a few days, I suppose; not worth + going so far for only one evening. Mind, Cecilia, you're not to have Bob + here while I'm away. When I come back, if I'm satisfied with you, I'll see + about asking him again.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very good of you,” said the girl slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's all right—you hurry and get ready; there's always a + chance they may have sold out, because it was a bargain line, and if they + have you'll have to try other places. I don't know what on earth I'll do + if you can't match it.” She turned to go, and then hesitated. “I was + thinking you might take Avice with you—but you'll get about quicker + alone, and she isn't ready. The tubes and buses are that crowded it's no + catch to take a child about with you.” In moments of excitement Mrs. + Rainham's English was apt to slip from her. At other times she cultivated + it carefully, assisted by a dramatic class, which an enthusiastic maiden + lady, with leanings towards the stage, conducted each winter among + neighbouring kindred souls. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia had caught her breath in alarm, but she breathed a sigh of relief + as the stout, over-dressed figure went down the narrow stairs, with a + final injunction to hurry. There was, indeed, no need to give Cecilia that + particular command. She scribbled one word, “Coming,” on Bob's note, + thrust it into an envelope and addressed it hastily, and then tapped on + the wall between the servants' room and her own. + </p> + <p> + Eliza appeared with the swiftness of a Jack-in-the-box, full of suppressed + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Lor! I fought she was never goin',” she breathed. “Got it ready, Miss? + The boy'll fink I've gorn an' eloped wiv it.” She took the envelope and + pattered swiftly downstairs. + </p> + <p> + A very few moments saw Cecilia flying in her wake—to Balding's + first, as quickly as tube and motor-bus could combine to take her, since + she dared not breathe freely until Mrs. Rainham's commission had been + settled. Balding's had never seemed so huge and so complicated, and when + she at length made her way to the right department the suave assistant + regretted that the trimming was sold out. It was Cecilia's face of blank + dismay that made him suddenly remember that there was possibly an odd + length somewhere, and a search revealed it, put away in a box of odds and + ends. Cecilia's thanks were so heartfelt that the assistant was mildly + surprised. + </p> + <p> + “For she don't seem the sort to wear ghastly stuff like that,” he + pondered, glancing after the pretty figure in the well-cut coat and skirt. + </p> + <p> + Outside the great shop Cecilia glanced up and caught the eye of a + taxi-driver who had just set down a fare. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be extravagant for once,” she thought. She beckoned to the man, and + in a moment was whirring through the streets in the peculiar comfort a + motor gives to anyone in a hurry in London—since it can take direct + routes instead of following the roundabout methods of buses and + underground railways. She leaned back, closing her eyes. If this summons + to Bob indeed meant that their sailing orders had come, she would need all + her wits and her coolness. For the first time she realized what her + stepmother's absence from home might mean—a thousandfold less + plotting and planning, and no risk of a horrible scene at the end. Cecilia + loathed scenes; they had not existed in Aunt Margaret's scheme of + existence. Since Bob's plans had become at all definite, she had looked + forward with dread to a final collision with Mrs. Rainham—it was + untold relief to know that it might not come. + </p> + <p> + She hurried up the steps of Mr. M'Clinton's office. The alert office boy—who + had been Bob's messenger to Lancaster Gate—met her. + </p> + <p> + “You're to go straight in, miss. The Captain's there.” + </p> + <p> + Bob was in the inner sanctum with Mr. M'Clinton. They rose to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “Well—are you ready, young lady?” the old man asked. + </p> + <p> + “Is it—are we to sail soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Next Saturday—and this is Monday. Can you manage it, Tommy?” Bob's + eyes were dancing with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Bobby—truly?” She caught at his coat sleeve. “When did you + hear?” + </p> + <p> + “I had a wire from General Harran this morning. A jolly good ship, too, + Tommy; one of the big Australian liners—the Nauru. You're all ready, + aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. And there's the most tremendous piece of luck, Bobby—Mrs. + Rainham's going away on Wednesday!” + </p> + <p> + “Going away! How more than tactful!” ejaculated Bob. “Where is she going?” + </p> + <p> + “To Liverpool.” + </p> + <p> + “Liverpool? Oh, by Jove!” Bob ended on a low whistle, while his face + assumed a comical expression of dismay. He turned to the lawyer. “Did you + ever hear of anything so queer?” + </p> + <p> + “Queer? Why?” demanded Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it looks as if she wanted to see the last of you, that's all. The + Nauru sails from Liverpool.” + </p> + <p> + “Bobby!” Cecilia's face fell. “I thought we went from Gravesend or + Tilbury, or somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “So did I. But the General's wire says Liverpool, so it seems we don't,” + said Bob. “And that she-dragon is going there too!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you need really worry,” Mr. M'Clinton said drily. + “Liverpool is not exactly a village. The chances are that if you went + there, trying to meet some one, you would hunt for him for a week in vain. + And you'll probably go straight from the train to the docks, so that you + won't be in the least likely to encounter Mrs. Rainham.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course, we'd never run into her in a huge place like Liverpool,” + Bob said, laughing. “Don't be afraid, Tommy—you'll have seen the + last of her when you say good-bye on Wednesday.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems too good to be true,” said Cecilia solemnly. “I remember how I + felt once before, when she went away to visit her sister in Liverpool; the + beautiful relief when one woke, to think that not all through the day + would one even have to look at her. It's really very terrible to look at + her often; her white face and hard eyes seem to fascinate one. Oh, I don't + suppose I ought to talk like that, especially here.” She looked + shamefacedly at Mr. M'Clinton, and blushed scarlet. + </p> + <p> + Both men laughed. + </p> + <p> + “The good lady had something of the same effect on me,” Mr. M'Clinton + admitted. “I found her a very terrible person. Cheer up, Miss Tommy, + you've nearly finished with her. And, now, what about getting you away?” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia turned to her brother. + </p> + <p> + “What am I to do, Bob?” + </p> + <p> + “We'll have to go to Liverpool on Friday,” Bob replied promptly. “I can't + find out the Nauru's sailing time, and it isn't safe to leave it until + Saturday. There's a train somewhere about two o'clock that gets up + somewhere about seven or eight that evening. Mr. M'Clinton and I don't + want to leave it to the last moment to get your luggage away from + Lancaster Gate. Can you have it ready the night before?” + </p> + <p> + “It would really be safer to take it in the afternoon,” Cecilia said after + a moment's thought. “Mrs. Rainham's absence will make that quite easy, for + I know I can depend upon Eliza and Cook. I can get my trunks ready, leave + them in my room, and tell Eliza you will be there to call for them, say, + at four o'clock. Then I take the three children out for a walk, and when + we return everything is gone. Will that do?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” said Bob, laughing. “And four o'clock suits me all right. + Then you'll saunter out on Friday morning with an inoffensive brown paper + parcel containing the rest of your worldly effects, and meet me for lunch + at the Euston Hotel. Is that clear?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite. I suppose I had better put no address on my trunks?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a line—I'll see to that. And don't even mention the word + 'Australia' this week, just in case your eye dances unconsciously, and + sets people thinking! I think you'd better cultivate a downtrodden look, + at any rate until Mrs Rainham is out of the house; at present you look far + too cheerful to be natural—doesn't she, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “You have to see to it that she does not look downtrodden again, after + this week,” said Mr. M'Clinton. “Remember that, Captain—she's going + a long way, and she'll have no one but you.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, sir. But, bless you, it's me that will look downtrodden,” said + Bob with a grin. “She bullies me horribly—always did.” He slipped + his hand through her arm, and they looked up at him with such radiant + faces that the old man smiled involuntarily. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I think you'll be all right,” he said. “Remember, Miss Tommy, I'll + expect to hear from you—fairly often, too. I shall not say good-bye + now—you'll see me on Friday at luncheon.” + </p> + <p> + They found themselves down in the grey precincts of Lincoln's Inn, which, + it may be, had rarely seen two young things prancing along so dementedly. + In the street they had to sober down, to outward seeming; but there was + still something about them, as they hurried off to find a teashop to + discuss final details, that made people turn to look at them. Even the + waitress beamed on them, and supplied them with her best cakes—and + London waitresses are a bored race. But at the moment, neither Cecilia nor + Bob could have told you whether they were eating cakes or sausages. + </p> + <p> + “The money is all right,” Bob said. “It'll be available at a Melbourne + bank when we get there; and meanwhile, there's plenty of ready money, with + what I've saved and my war gratuity. So if you want anything, Tommy, you + just say so, and don't go without any pretties just because you think + we'll be in the workhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you—but I don't really need anything,” she told him + gratefully. “It would be nice to have a little money to spend at the + ports, but I think we ought to keep the rest for Australia, don't you, + Bob?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, of course; but you're not to go without a few pounds if you want + 'em,” said Bob. “And, Tommy, don't leave meeting me on Friday until lunch + time. I'll be worrying if you do, just in case things may have gone wrong. + Make it eleven o'clock at the Bond Street tube exit, and if you're not + there in half an hour I'll jolly well go and fetch you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be there,” Cecilia nodded. “You had better give me the half-hour's + grace, though, in case I might be held up at the last moment. One never + knows—and Avice and Wilfred are excellent little watchdogs.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, you won't have the she-dragon to reckon with, and that's a big + thing,” Bob said. “I don't see how you can have any trouble—Papa + certainly will not give you any.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he won't bother,” said Cecilia slowly. “It's queer to think how + little he counts—our own father.” + </p> + <p> + “A pretty shoddy apology for one, I think,” Bob said bitterly. “What has + he ever done for us? But I'd forgive him that when I can't forgive him + something else—the way he has let you be treated these two years.” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn't known everything, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “He has known quite enough. And if he had the spirit of a man he'd have + saved you from it. No; we don't owe him any consideration, Tommy; and he + saw to it years ago that we should never owe him any affection. So we + really needn't worry our heads about him. By the way, there are to be some + Australians on the Nauru who General Harran says may be of use to us—I + don't remember their names, but he's going to give me a letter to them. + And probably there will be some other flying people whom I may know. I + think the voyage ought to be rather good fun.” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, too. It will be exciting to be on a troopship,” Cecilia said. + “But, then, anything will be heavenly after Lancaster Gate!” + </p> + <p> + She hurried home, as soon as the little meal was over, knowing that Mrs. + Rainham would be impatiently awaiting her. Luckily, her success in + matching the trimming made her stepmother forget how long she had been + away; and from that moment until a welcome four-wheeler removed the + mistress of the house on Wednesday, she sewed and packed for her + unceasingly. Her journey excited Mrs. Rainham greatly. She talked almost + affably of her sister's grandeur, and of the certainty of meeting wealthy + and gorgeously dressed people at her party. + </p> + <p> + “Not that I'll be at all ashamed of my dress,” she added, looking at the + billowy waves on which Cecilia was plastering yet more trimming. “Unusual + and artistic, that's what it is; and it'll show off my hair. Don't forget + the darning when I'm gone, Cecilia. There's a tablecloth to mend, as well + as the stockings. I'll be home on Saturday night, unless they persuade me + to stay over the week-end.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia nodded, sewing busily. + </p> + <p> + “And just see if you can't get on a bit better with the children. You've + got to make allowances for their high spirits, and treat them tactfully. + Of course you can't expect them to be as obedient to you as they would be + to a regular governess, you being their own half-sister, and not so much + older than Avice, after all. But tact does wonders, especially with + children.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Cecilia, and said no more. + </p> + <p> + “Well, just bear it in mind. I don't suppose you'll see much of your + father, so you needn't worry about him. But don't let Eliza gossip and + idle; she never does any work if she's not kept up to it, and you know + you're much too familiar with her. Always keep girls like her at a + distance, and they'll work all the better, that's what I say. Treat her as + an equal, and the next thing you know she'll be trying on your hats!” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't caught Eliza at that yet,” said Cecilia with the ghost of a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “It'll come, though, if you're not more stand-offish with her—you + mark my words. Keep them in their place—that's what I always do with + my servants and governesses,” said Mrs. Rainham without the slightest idea + that she was saying anything peculiar. “Now, I'll go and put my things out + on my bed, and as soon as you've finished that you can come up and pack + for me.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia stood at the hall door that afternoon to watch her go—bustling + into the cab, with loud directions to the cabman, her hard face full of + self-importance and satisfaction. The plump hand waved a highly scented + handkerchief as the clumsy four-wheeler moved off. + </p> + <p> + “To think I'll never see you again!” breathed the girl. “It seems too good + to be true!” + </p> + <p> + A kind of wave of relief seemed to have descended upon the house. The + children were openly exulting in having no one to obey; an attitude which, + in the circumstances, failed to trouble their half-sister. Eliza went + about her work with a cheery face; even Cook, down in the basement, + manifested lightness of heart by singing love songs in a cracked soprano + and by making scones for afternoon tea. Mark Rainham did not come home + until late—he had announced his intention of dining at his club. + Late in the evening he sauntered into the dining-room, where Cecilia sat + sewing. + </p> + <p> + “Still at it?” he asked. He sat down and poked the fire. “What are you + sewing?” + </p> + <p> + “Just darning,” Cecilia told him. + </p> + <p> + He sat looking at her for a while—at the pretty face and the + well-tended hair; and who shall say what thoughts stirred in his dull + brain? + </p> + <p> + “You look a bit pale,” he said at last. “Do you go out enough?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I think so,” Cecilia answered in astonishment. Not in two years + had he shown so much interest in her; and it braced her to a sudden + resolve. She had never been quite satisfied to leave him without a word; + whatever he was, he was still her father. She put her darning on her knee, + and looked at him gravely. + </p> + <p> + “You know Bob is demobilized, don't you, Papa?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—he told me so,” Mark Rainham answered. + </p> + <p> + “And you know he wants to take me away?” + </p> + <p> + Her father's eyes wavered and fell before her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—but the idea's ridiculous, I'm afraid. You're under age, + and your stepmother won't hear of it.” He poked the fire savagely. + </p> + <p> + “But if Bob could make a home for me! We have always been together, you + know, Papa.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well—wait and see. Time enough when you're twenty-one, and your + own mistress; Bob will have had a chance to make good by then. I—I + can't oppose my wife in the matter—she says she's not strong enough + to do without your help.” + </p> + <p> + “But she never seems satisfied with me.” + </p> + <p> + Mark Rainham rose with an irritably nervous movement. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no one is ever perfect. I suspect, if each of you went a little way + to meet the other, things would be better. Your stepmother says her nerves + are all wrong, and I'm sure you do take a great deal of trouble off her + shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't let me go?” The girl's low voice was relentless, and her + father wriggled as though he were a beetle and she were pinning him down. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm afraid it's out of the question, Cecilia. I should have to be + very satisfied first that Bob could offer you a home—and by that + time he'll probably be thinking of getting married, and won't want you. + Why can't you settle down comfortably to living at home?” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any home for me apart from Bob,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can't help it.” Mark Rainham's voice had a hopeless tone. He + walked to the door, and then half turned. “If you can make my wife agree + to your going, I won't forbid it. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good night,” said Cecilia. The slow footsteps went up the stairs, and she + turned to her darning with a lip that curled in scorn. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that let's me out. I don't owe you anything—not even a + good-bye note on my pincushion,” she said presently; and laughed a little. + She folded a finished pair of socks deliberately, and, rising, stretched + her arms luxuriously above her head. “Two more days,” she whispered. She + switched off the light, and crept noiselessly upstairs. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + THE WATCH DOGS + </h3> + <p> + “Well, if you ask me, she's up to something,” said Avice with conviction. + </p> + <p> + “How d'you mean?” Wilfred looked up curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Lots of things. She looks all different. First of all—look how red + she is all the time, and the excited look in her eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all look—look!” jeered her brother. “Girls always have those + rotten ideas about nothing at all. Just because Cecilia's got a bit + sunburnt, and because she's havin' an easy time 'cause Mater's away—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you think because you're a boy, you know everything,” retorted his + sister hotly. “You just listen, and see if I've got rotten ideas. Did you + know, she's kept her room locked for days?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—if she has? That's nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “You shut up and let me go on. Yesterday she forgot, and left it open + while she was down talking to Cook, and I slipped in. And there was one of + her great big trunks, that she always keeps in the box room, half-packed + with her things. I nicked this necklace out of it, too,” said Avice with + triumph, producing a quaint string of Italian beads. + </p> + <p> + “Good business,” said Wilfred with an appreciative grin. “Did she catch + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not she—I can tell you I didn't wait long, 'cause she always comes + upstairs as quick as lightning. She did come, too, in an awful hurry, and + locked up the room—I only got out of the way just in time. And every + minute she could, yesterday, she was up there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't see much in that.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but look here, I got another chance of looking into her room this + morning, and that trunk was gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Gone back to the box-room,” said Wilfred with superiority. + </p> + <p> + “No, it wasn't—I went up and looked. And her other trunk's not + there, either.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're dreaming! I bet she'd just pushed it under her bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Avice. “That great big trunk wouldn't go under her bed—you + know she's only got a little stretcher-bed. And I tell you they'd both + gone. I bet you anything she's going to run away.” + </p> + <p> + “Where'd she run to?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, somewhere with Bob.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let her go.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and Mater 'd have to spend ever so much on a new governess; and most + likely she'd be a worse beast than Cecilia. And no governess we ever had + did half the things Mater makes Cecilia do to help in the house. Why she's + like an extra servant, as well as a governess. Mater told me all about it. + I tell you what, Wilfred, it's our business to see she doesn't run away.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Wilfred, “I suppose we'd better watch out. When do you + reckon she'd go? People generally run away at night, don't they?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyone can see she's just taking advantage of Mater being away. + Yes, of course she'd go at night. She might have sent her boxes away + yesterday by a carrier—I bet that horrid little Eliza would help + her. Ten to one she means to sneak out to-night—she knows Mater will + be home to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “What a sell it will be for her if we catch her!” said Wilfred with glee. + “I say, what about telling Pater?” + </p> + <p> + Avice looked sour. + </p> + <p> + “I did tell him something yesterday, and he only growled at me. At least, + I said, 'Do you think Cecilia would ever be likely to run away?' And he + just stared at me, and then he said, 'Not your business if she does.' So + I'm not going to speak to him again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we'd better take it in turns to watch her,” Wilfred said. “After + dark's the most likely time, I suppose, but we'd better be on the look-out + all the time. Where's she now, by the way?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know. I say, she's been away a long time—I never + noticed,” said Avice, in sudden alarm. “She said we were to go on with our + French exercises—and that's ages ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on and see,” said Wilfred jumping up. + </p> + <p> + Outside the room he caught Avice by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Kick off your shoes,” he said. “We'll sneak up to her room.” + </p> + <p> + They crept up silently. The door of Cecilia's room was ajar. Peeping in, + they saw her standing before her tiny looking-glass, pinning on her hat. A + small parcel lay upon her bed, with her gloves and parasol. The children + were very silent—but something struck upon the girl's tightly strung + nerves. She turned swiftly and saw them. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” she demanded. “How dare you come into my room?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, we thought you were lost,” said Avice. “We finished our French ages + ago. Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going out,” said Cecilia. “I'll set you more work to do while I'm + away.” + </p> + <p> + “But where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “That has nothing to do with you. Come down to the schoolroom.” + </p> + <p> + Avice held her brother firmly by the arm. Together they blocked the way. + </p> + <p> + “Mater wouldn't let you go out in lesson time. I believe you're going to + run away!” + </p> + <p> + A red spot flamed in each of Cecilia's white cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Stand out of my way, you little horrors!” she said angrily. She caught up + her things and advanced upon them. + </p> + <p> + “I'm hanged if you're going,” said Wilfred doggedly. He pushed her back + violently, and slammed the door. + </p> + <p> + The attic doors in Lancaster Gate, like those of many London houses, were + fitted with heavy iron bolts on the outside—a precaution against + burglars who might enter the house by rooms ordinarily little used. It was + not the first time that Cecilia had been bolted into her room by her + step-brother. When first she came, it had been a favourite pastime to make + her a prisoner—until their mother had made it an offence carrying a + heavy penalty, since it had often occurred that Cecilia was locked up when + she happened to need her. + </p> + <p> + But this time Cecilia heard the heavy bolt shoot home with feelings of + despair. It was already time for her to leave the house. Bob would be + waiting for her in Bond Street, impatiently scanning each crowd of + passengers that the lift shot up from underground. She battered at the + door wildly. + </p> + <p> + “Let me out! How dare you, Wilfred? Let me out at once!” + </p> + <p> + Wilfred laughed disagreeably. + </p> + <p> + “Not if we know it—eh, Avice?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather not,” said Avice. “What d'you think Mater'd say to us if we let + you run away?” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Cecilia, controlling her voice with difficulty. “I was + going to meet Bob.” + </p> + <p> + There was silence, and a whispered consultation. Then Avice spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give us your word of honour you weren't going to run away?” + </p> + <p> + Words of honour meant little to the young Rainhams. But they knew that + Cecilia held it as a commonplace of decent behaviour that people did not + tell lies. They had, indeed, often marvelled that she preferred to “take + her gruel” rather than use any ready untruth that would have shielded her + from their mother's wrath. Avice and Wilfred had no such scruples on their + own account: but they knew that they could depend upon Cecilia's word. + They were, indeed, just a little afraid of their own action in locking her + up; their mother might have condoned it as “high spirits,” but their + father was not unlikely to take a different view. So they awaited her + reply with some anxiety. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia hesitated. Never in her life had she been so tempted. Perhaps + because the temptation was so strong she answered swiftly. + </p> + <p> + “No—I won't tell you anything of the kind. But look here—if + you will let me out I'll give you each ten shillings.” + </p> + <p> + Ten shillings! It was wealth, and the children gasped. Wilfred, indeed, + would have shot back the bolt instantly. It was Avice who caught at his + arm. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you!” she whispered. “It'll cost heaps more than that to get a new + governess—and we'll make Mater give us each ten shillings for + keeping her. I say, we'll have to get the Pater home.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” Wilfred looked at her blankly. + </p> + <p> + “Easy. You go to the post office and telephone to him at his office. Tell + him to come at once. I'll watch here, in case Eliza lets her out. Run—hard + as you can. Mater'll never forgive us if she gets away.” + </p> + <p> + Wilfred clattered off obediently, awed by his sister's urgency. Avice sat + down on the head of the stairs, close to the bolted door; and when Cecilia + spoke again, repeating her offer, she answered her in a voice unpleasantly + like her mother's: + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't, my fine lady. Wilfred's gone for the Pater—he'll be + here presently. You just stay there quietly till he comes.” + </p> + <p> + “Avice!” The word was a wail. “Oh, you don't know how important it is—let + me out. I'll give you anything in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “So'll Mater if I stop your little game,” said Avice. “You just keep + quiet.” + </p> + <p> + Eliza's sharp little face appeared at the foot of the flight of stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Wot's up, Miss Avice? Anyfink wrong with Miss 'Cilia?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing to do with you,” said Avice rudely. “I'm looking after her.” But + Cecilia's sharp ears had caught the new voice. + </p> + <p> + “Eliza! Eliza!” she called. + </p> + <p> + The girl came up the stairs uncertainly. Avice rose to confront her. + </p> + <p> + “Now, you just keep off,” she said. “You're not coming past here. The + master'll be home directly, and till he comes, no one's going up these + stairs.” She raised her voice, to drown that of Cecilia, who was speaking + again. + </p> + <p> + Eliza looked at her doubtfully. She was an undersized, wizened little + Cockney, and Avice was a big, stoutly-built girl—who held, moreover, + the advantage of a commanding position on the top step. In an encounter of + strength there was little doubt as to who would win. She turned in + silence, cowed, and went down to the kitchen, while Avice sang a + triumphant song, partly as a chant of victory, and partly to make sure + that no one would hear the remarks that Cecilia was steadily making. She + herself had caught one phrase—“Tell my brother”—and her sharp + little mind was busy. Did that mean that Bob would be coming, against its + mistress's orders, to Lancaster Gate. + </p> + <p> + In the kitchen Eliza poured out a frantic appeal to Cook. + </p> + <p> + “She's got Miss 'Cilia locked up—the little red-'eaded cat! An' + Master Wilfred gorn to fetch the Master! Oh, come on, Cookie darlin', an' + we'll let 'er out.” + </p> + <p> + Cook shook her head slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Not good enough,” she said. “I got a pretty good place. I ain't goin' to + risk it by 'avin' a rough-an'-tumble with the daughter of the 'ouse on the + hattic stairs. You better leave well alone, Liza. You done your bit, + 'elpin' 'er git them trunks orf yes'day.” + </p> + <p> + “Wot's the good of 'avin the trunks off if she can't go, too?” demanded + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she'll git another chance. Don't worry your 'ead so much over other + people's business. If the Master comes 'ome an' finds us scruffin' 'is + daughter, 'e'll 'and us both over to the police for assault—an' then + you'll 'ave cause for worry. Now you git along like a good gel—I got + to mike pastry.” Cook turned away decisively. + </p> + <p> + Wilfred had come home and had raced up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Did you get him?” Avice cried. + </p> + <p> + “No—he was out. So I left a message that he was to come home at + once, 'cause something was wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “That'll bring him,” said Avice with satisfaction. “Now, look here, Wilf—I + believe Bob may come. You go and be near the front door, to block Eliza, + if he does. Answer any ring.” + </p> + <p> + “What'll I say if he comes?” + </p> + <p> + “Say she's gone out to meet him—if he thinks that, he'll hurry back + to wherever they were to meet. Don't give him a chance to get in. Hurry!” + </p> + <p> + “Right,” said Wilfred, obeying. He sat down in a hall chair, and took up a + paper, with an eye wary for Eliza. Half an hour passed tediously, while + upstairs Cecilia begged and bribed in vain. Then he sprang to his feet as + a ring came. + </p> + <p> + Bob was at the door; and suddenly Wilfred realized that he had always been + afraid of Bob. He quailed inwardly, for never had he seen his half-brother + look as he did now—with a kind of still, terrible anger in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Cecilia?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone out,” said the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone to meet you.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she tell you so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course—how'd I know if she didn't?” + </p> + <p> + “Then that's a lie, for she wouldn't tell you. Let me in.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, she's gone out,” said Wilfred, whose only spark of remaining + courage was due to the fact that he had prudently kept the door on the + chain. “And Mater said you weren't to come in here.” + </p> + <p> + From the area below a shrill voice floated upwards. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bob! Mr. Bob! Daon't you believe 'im. They got Miss 'Cilia locked up + in 'er room.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said Bob between his teeth. “Bless you, Eliza! Open that door, + Wilfred, or I'll make it hot for you.” He thrust a foot into the opening, + with a face so threatening that Wilfred shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “I shan't,” he said. “You're not going to get her.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I not?” said Bob. He leaned back, and then suddenly flung all his + weight against the door. The chain was old and the links eaten with rust—it + snapped like a carrot, and the door flew open. Bob brushed Wilfred out of + his way, and went upstairs, three at a time. + </p> + <p> + Avice blocked his path. + </p> + <p> + “You aren't coming up.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I think so,” Bob said. He stooped, with a quick movement, and + picked her up, holding her across his shoulder, while she beat and clawed + unavailingly at his back. So holding her, he thrust back the bolt of + Cecilia's door and flung it open. + </p> + <p> + “Did you think they had got you, Tommy?” + </p> + <p> + She could only cling to his free arm for a moment speechless. Then she + lifted her face, her voice shaking, still in fear. + </p> + <p> + “We must hurry, Bob. They've sent for Papa.” + </p> + <p> + “Have they?” said Bob, with interest. “Well, not a regiment of papas + should stop you now, old girl. Got everything?” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia gathered up her things, nodding. + </p> + <p> + “Then we'll leave this young lady here,” said Bob. He placed Avice + carefully on Cecilia's bed, and made for the door, having the pleasure, as + he shot the bolt, of hearing precisely what the younger Miss Rainham + thought of him and all his attributes, including his personal appearance. + </p> + <p> + “A nice gift of language, hasn't she?” he said. “Inherits it from her + mamma, I should think.” He put his arm round Cecilia and held her closely + as they went downstairs, his face full of the joy of battle. Wilfred was + nowhere to be seen, but by the door Eliza waited. Bob slipped something + into her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I expect you'll lose your place over this, Eliza,” he said. “Well, you'll + get a better—I'll tell my lawyer to see to that. He'll write to you—by + the way, what's your surname? Oh, Smithers—I'll remember. And thank + you very much.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands with her, and passed out into the street. Cecilia was + still too shaken to speak—but as Bob pulled her hand through his arm + and hurried her along, her self-control returned, and the face that looked + up at his presently was absolutely content. Bob returned the look with a + little smile. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know I'd come?” he asked. “You dear old stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew you'd come—but I thought Papa would get there first,” + Cecilia answered. “Somehow, it seemed the end of everything.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't—it's only the beginning,” Bob answered. + </p> + <p> + There was a narrow side street that made a short cut from the tube station + to the Rainhams' home; and as they passed it Mark Rainham came hurrying up + it. Bob and Cecilia did not see him. He looked at them for a moment, as if + reading the meaning of the two happy faces—and then shrank back into + an alley and remained hidden until his son and daughter had passed out of + sight. They went on their way, without dreaming that the man they dreaded + was within a stone's throw of them. + </p> + <p> + “So it was that,” said Mark Rainham slowly, looking after them. “Out of + gaol, are you—poor little prisoner! Well, good luck to you both!” He + turned on his heel, and went back to his office. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + HOW TOMMY BOARDED A STRANGE TAXI + </h3> + <p> + “We're nearly in, Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia looked up from her corner with a start, and the book she had been + trying to read slipped to the floor of the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you were asleep,” said Bob, laughing. “Poor old Tommy, are you + very tired?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, really. Only I was getting a bit sleepy,” his sister + answered. “Are we late, Bob?” + </p> + <p> + “Very, the conductor says. This train generally makes a point of being + late. I wish it had made a struggle to be on time to-night; it would have + been jolly to get to the ship in daylight.” Bob was strapping up rugs + briskly as he talked. + </p> + <p> + “How do we get down to the ship, Bob?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no doubt there'll be taxis,” Bob answered. “But it may be no end of a + drive—the conductor tells me there are miles and miles of docks, and + the Nauru may be lying anywhere. But he says there's always a military + official on duty at the station—a transport officer, and he'll be + able to tell me everything.” He did not think it worth while to tell the + tired little sister what another man had told him, that it was very + doubtful whether they would be allowed to board any transport at night, + and that Liverpool was so crowded that to find beds in it might be an + impossibility. Bob refused to be depressed by the prospect. “If the worst + came to the worst, there'd be a Y.W.C.A. that would take in Tommy,” he + mused. “And it wouldn't be the first time I've spent a night in the open.” + Nothing seemed to matter now that they had escaped. But, all the same, + there seemed no point in telling Tommy, who was extremely cheerful, but + also very white-faced. + </p> + <p> + They drew into an enormous station, where there seemed a dense crowd of + people, but no porters at all. Bob piled their hand luggage on the + platform, and left Cecilia to guard it while he went on a tour of + discovery. He hurried back to her presently. + </p> + <p> + “Come on,” he said, gathering up their possessions. “There's a big station + hotel opening on to the platforms. I can leave you sitting in the + vestibule while I gather up the heavy luggage and find the transport + officer. I'm afraid it's going to take some time, so don't get worried if + I don't turn up very soon. There seem to be about fifty thousand people + struggling round the luggage vans, and I'll have to wait my turn. But I'll + be as quick as I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry on my account,” Cecilia said. “This is ever so + comfortable. I don't mind how long you're away!” She laughed up at him, + sinking into a big chair in the vestibule of the hotel. There were heavy + glass doors on either side that were constantly swinging to let people in + or out; through them could be seen the hurrying throng of people on the + station, rushing to and fro under the great electric lights, gathered + round the bookstall, struggling along under luggage, or—very + occasionally—moving in the wake of a porter with a barrow heaped + with trunks. There were soldiers everywhere, British and Australian, and + officers in every variety of Allied uniform. + </p> + <p> + An officer came in with a lady and two tiny boys—Cecilia recognized + them as having been passengers on their train. With them came an old Irish + priest, who had met them, and the officer left them in his care while he + also went off on the luggage quest. The small boys were apparently untired + by their journey; they immediately began to use the swinging glass doors + as playthings to the imminent risk of their own necks, since they were too + little to be noticed by anyone coming in or out, and were nearly knocked + flat a dozen times by the swing of the doors. The weary mother spent a + busy time in rescuing them, and was not always entirely successful—bumps + and howls testified to the doors being occasionally quicker than the boys. + Finally, the old priest gathered up the elder, a curly-haired, slender + mite, into his arms and told him stories, while his plump and solemn + brother curled up on his mother's knee and dozed. It was clearly long + after their bed-time. + </p> + <p> + The procession of people came and went unceasingly, the glass doors always + aswing. In and out, in and out, men and women hurried, and just beyond the + kaleidoscope of the platforms moved and changed restlessly under the + glaring arc lights. Cecilia's bewildered mind grew weary of it all, and + she closed her eyes. It was some time later that she woke with a start, to + find Bob beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Sleepy old thing,” he said. “Oh, I've had such a wild time, Tommy; to get + information of any kind is as hard as to get one's luggage. However, I've + got both. And the first thing is we can't go on board to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Bob! What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “I was rather anxious about that same thing myself,” said Bob, “since + everyone tells me that Liverpool is more jammed with people than even + London—which is saying something. However, we've had luck. I went to + ask in here, never imagining I had the ghost of a chance, and they'd just + had telegrams giving up two rooms. So we're quite all right; and so is the + luggage. I've had all the heavy stuff handed over to a carrier to be put + on the Nauru to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “You're the great manager,” said Cecilia comfortably. “Where is the Nauru, + by the way?” + </p> + <p> + “Sitting out in the river, the transport officer says. She doesn't come + alongside until the morning; and we haven't to be on board until three + o'clock. She's supposed to pull out about six. So we really needn't have + left London to-day—but I think it's as well we did.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” said Cecilia, with a shiver. “I don't think I could have + stood another night in Lancaster Gate. I've been awake for three nights + wondering what we should do if any hitch came in our plans.” + </p> + <p> + “Just like a woman!” said Bob, laughing. “You always jump over your hedges + before you come to them.” He pulled her gently out of her chair. “Come + along; I'll have these things sent up to our rooms, and then we'll get + some dinner—after which you'll go to bed.” It was a plan which + sounded supremely attractive to his sister. + </p> + <p> + Not even the roar and rattle of the trains under the station hotel kept + Cecilia awake that night. She slept, dreamlessly at first; then she had a + dream that she was just about to embark in a great ship for Australia; + that she was going up the gangway, when suddenly behind her came her + father and her stepmother, with Avice, Wilfred and Queenie, who all seized + her, and began to drag her back. She fought and struggled with them, and + from the top of the gangway came Mr. M'Clinton and Eliza, who tugged her + upwards. Between the two parties she was beginning to think she would be + torn to pieces, when suddenly came swooping from the clouds an areoplane, + curiously like a wheelbarrow, and in it Bob, who leaned out as he dived, + grasped her by the hair, and swung her aboard with him. They whirred away + over the sea; where, she did not know, but it did not seem greatly to + matter. They were still flying between sea and sky when she woke, to find + the sunlight streaming into her room, and some one knocking at her door. + </p> + <p> + “Are you awake, Tommy?” It was Bob's voice. “Lie still, and I'll send you + up a cup of tea.” + </p> + <p> + That was very pleasant, and a happy contrast to awakening in Lancaster + Gate; and breakfast a little later was delightful, in a big sunny room, + with interesting people coming and going all the time. Bob and Cecilia + smiled at each other like two happy children. It was almost unbelievable + that they were free; away from tryanny and coldness, with no more plotting + and planning, and no more prying eyes. + </p> + <p> + Bob went off to interview the transport officer after breakfast, and + Cecilia found the officer's wife with the two little boys struggling to + attend to her luggage, while the children ran away and lost themselves in + the corridors or endeavoured to commit suicide by means of the lift. So + Cecilia took command of them and played with them until the harassed + mother had finished, and came to reclaim her offspring—this time + with the worry lines smoothed out of her face. She sat down by Cecilia and + talked, and presently it appeared that she also was sailing in the Nauru. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I thought it was only wives who were going,” she said. “I didn't + know sisters were permitted.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe General Harran managed our passages,” Cecilia said. “He has + been very kind to my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you should have a merry voyage, for there will be scarcely any + young girls on board,” said Mrs. Burton, her new friend. “Most of the + women on the transports are brides, of course. Ever so many of our men + have married over here.” + </p> + <p> + “You are an Australian?” Cecilia asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. My husband isn't. He was an old regular officer, and returned to + his regiment as soon as war broke out. I don't think there will be many + women on board: the Nauru isn't a family ship, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” Cecilia queried. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a ship with hundreds of women and children—privates' wives and + families, as well as officers'. I believe they are rather awful to travel + on—they must be terrible in rough weather. The non-family ships + carry only a few officers' wives, as a rule: a much more comfortable + arrangement for the lucky few.” + </p> + <p> + “And we are among the lucky few?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I only hope my small boys won't be a nuisance. I've never been + without a nurse for them until last night. However, I suppose I'll soon + get into their ways.” + </p> + <p> + “You must let me help you,” Cecilia said. “I love babies.” She stroked + Tim's curly head as she spoke: Dickie, his little brother, had suddenly + fallen asleep on his mother's knee. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Burton smiled her thanks. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is pleasant to think we shan't go on board knowing no one,” she + said. “I hope our cabins are not far apart. Oh, here is my husband; I hope + that means all our luggage is safely on board.” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Burton came up—a pleasant soldierly man, bearing the + unmistakable stamp of the regular officer. They were still chatting when + Bob arrived, to be introduced—a ceremony which appeared hardly + necessary in the case of the colonel and himself. + </p> + <p> + “We've met at intervals since last night in various places where they hide + luggage,” said the colonel. “I'm beginning to turn faint at the sight of a + trunk!” + </p> + <p> + “It's the trunks I can't get sight of that make me tremble,” grinned Bob. + “One of mine disappeared mysteriously this morning, and finally, after a + breathless hunt, turned up in a lamp-room—your biggest Saratoga, + Tommy! Why anyone should have put it in a lamp-room seems to be a + conundrum that is going to excite the station for ever. But there it was.” + </p> + <p> + “And have they really started for the ship?” asked Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + “Well—I saw them all on a lorry, checked over my list with the + driver's, and found everything right, and saw him start,” said Bob, + laughing. “More than that no man may say.” + </p> + <p> + “It would simplify matters if we knew our cabin numbers,” said Colonel + Burton. “But we don't; neither does anyone, as far as I can gather, since + cabins appear to be allotted just as you go on board—a peculiar + system. Can you imagine the ghastly heap of miscellaneous luggage that + will be dumped on the Nauru, with frenzied owners wildly trying to sort it + out!” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't bear thinking of,” said Bob, laughing. “Come along, Tommy, and + we'll explore Liverpool.” + </p> + <p> + They wandered about the crowded streets of the great port, where may, + perhaps, be seen a queerer mixture of races than anywhere in England, + since ships from all over the world ceaselesly come and go up and down the + Mersey. Then they boarded a tram and journeyed out of the city, among + miles of beautiful houses, and, getting down at the terminus, walked + briskly for an hour, since it would be long before there would be any land + for them to walk on again. They got back to the hotel rather late for + lunch, and very hungry; and afterwards it was time to pack up their light + luggage and get down to the docks. General Harran had warned them to take + enough hand-baggage to last them several nights, since it was quite + possible that their cabin trunks would be swept into the baggage room, and + fail to turn up for a week after sailing. + </p> + <p> + A taxi whisked them through streets that became more and more crowded. The + journey was not a long one; they turned down a slope presently, and drew + up before a great gate across the end of a pier where two policemen were + on duty to prevent the entrance of anyone without a pass. Porters were + there in singular numbers—England had grown quite used to being + without them; and Bob had just transferred their luggage to the care of a + cheerful lad with a barrow when Cecilia gave a little start of dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Bob, I've left my watch!” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” whistled her brother. “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “I washed my hands just before I left my room,” said the shamefaced + Cecilia. “I remember slipping it off my wrist beside the basin.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's no need to worry,” said Bob cheerfully. “Ten to one it's + there still. You'll have to take the taxi and go back for it, Tommy: I + can't leave the luggage, and I may be wanted to show our papers, besides; + but you won't have any difficulty. Come along, and I'll see that the + policeman lets you through when you come back.” + </p> + <p> + The constable was sympathetic. He examined Cecilia's passport, declared + that he would know her anywhere again, and that she had no cause for + anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Is it time? Sure, ye'll be tired of waitin' on the ould pier hours afther + ye get back,” he said cheerfully. “I know thim transports. Why, there's + not one of the throops marched in yet. There comes the furrst lot.” + </p> + <p> + A band swung round the turn of the street playing a quickstep: behind it, + a long line of Australian soldiers, marching at ease, each man with his + pack on his shoulder. A gate with a military sentry swung wide to admit + them, and they passed on to where a high overhead bridge carried them + aboard a great liner moored to the pier. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis the soldiers have betther treatment than the officers whin it comes + to boardin' transports,” said the friendly policeman. “They get marched + straight on board. The officers and their belongin's has to wait till + they've gone through hivin knows what formalities. So you needn't worry, + miss, an' take your time. The ould ship'll be there hours yet.” + </p> + <p> + The taxi driver appeared only too glad of further employment, and Cecilia, + much cheered, though still considerably ashamed of herself, leaned back + comfortably in the cab as they whisked through the streets. At the hotel + good fortune awaited her, for a chambermaid had just found her watch and + had brought it to the office for safe keeping. Cecilia left her thanks, + with something more substantial, for the girl, and hurried back to the + cab. + </p> + <p> + The streets seemed more thronged than ever, and presently traffic was + blocked by a line of marching men—more “diggers” on their way to the + transport. Cecilia's chauffeur turned back into a side street, evidently a + short cut. Half-way along it the taxi jarred once or twice and came to a + standstill. + </p> + <p> + The chauffeur got out and poked his head into the bonnet, performing + mysterious rites, while Cecilia watched him, a little anxiously. Presently + he came round to the door. + </p> + <p> + “I'm awful sorry, miss,” he said respectfully. “The old bus has broke + down. I'm afraid I can't get another move out of 'er—I'll 'ave to + get 'er towed to a garage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Cecilia, jumping out. “Do you think I can find another near + here?” + </p> + <p> + “You oughter pick one up easy in the street up there,” said the chauffeur. + “Plenty of 'em about 'ere. Even if you shouldn't, miss, you can get a tram + down to the docks—any p'liceman 'll direct you. You could walk it, + if you liked—you've loads of time.” He touched his cap as she paid + him. “Very sorry to let you down like this, miss—it ain't my fault. + All the taxis in England are just about droppin' to pieces—it'll be + a mercy when repair shops get goin' again.” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't matter,” Cecilia said cheerfully. She decided that she would + walk; it would be more interesting, and the long wait on the pier would be + shortened. She set off happily towards the main street where the tram + lines ran, feeling that short cuts were not for strangers in a big city. + </p> + <p> + Even in the side street the shops were interesting. She came upon a + fascinating curio shop, and stopped a moment to look at the queer medley + in its window; such a medley as may be seen in any port where sailor-men + bring home strange things from far countries. She was so engrossed that + she failed to notice a woman who passed her, and then, with an astonished + stare, turned back. A heavy hand fell on her wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Cecilia!” + </p> + <p> + She turned, with a little cry. Mrs. Rainham's face, inflamed with sudden + anger, looked into her own. The hard grasp tightened on her wrist. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, you wicked girl? You've run away.” + </p> + <p> + At the moment no speech was possible to Cecilia. She twisted her arm away + fiercely, freeing herself with difficulty, and turning, ran, with her + stepmother at her heels. Once, Mrs. Rainham gasped “Police!” after which + she required all the breath to keep near the flying girl. The street was + quiet; only one or two interested passers-by turned to look at the race, + and a street urchin shouted: “Go it, red 'ead—she's beatin' yer!” + </p> + <p> + It follows naturally, when one person pursues another through city + streets, that the pursued falls under public suspicion and is liable to be + caught and held by any officious person. Cecilia felt this, and her + anxiety was keen as she darted round the corner into the next street, + looking about wildly for a means of escape. A big van, crawling across the + road, held Mrs. Rainham back for a moment, giving her a brief respite. + </p> + <p> + Just in front of her, a block in the traffic was beginning to move. A taxi + was near her. She held up her hand desperately, trying to catch the + driver's eye. He shook his head, and she realized that he was already + engaged—there was a pile of luggage beside him with big labels, and + a familiar name struck her—“H.M.T. Nauru.” A girl, leaning from the + window of the taxi, met her glance, and Cecilia took a sudden resolve. She + sprang forward, her hand on the door. + </p> + <p> + “I am a passenger by the Nauru. Could you take me in your car?” she + gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” said the other girl. “Plenty of room, isn't there, dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly,” said the other occupant of the cab—a big, grizzled + man, who looked at the new-comer in blank amazement. He had half risen, + but there was no time for him to assist his self-invited guest; she had + opened the door and jumped in before his daughter had finished speaking. + Leaning forward, Cecilia saw her stepmother emerge from the traffic, + crimson-faced, casting wild and wrathful glances about her. Then her + wandering eye fell upon Cecilia, and she began to run forward. Even as she + did the chauffeur quickened his pace, and the taxi slid away, until the + running, shouting figure was lost to view. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia sat back with a gasp, and began to laugh helplessly. The others + watched her with faces that clearly showed that they began to suspect + having entertained a lunatic unawares. + </p> + <p> + “I do beg your pardon,” said Cecilia, recovering. “It was inexcusable. But + I was running away.” + </p> + <p> + “So it seemed,” said the big man, in a slow, pleasant voice. “I hope it + wasn't from the police?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no!” Cecilia flushed. “Only from my stepmother. My own taxi had just + broken down, and she found me, and she would have made a scene in the + street—and scenes are so vulgar, are they not? When I saw Nauru on + your luggage, you seemed to me to have dropped from heaven.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at them, her pretty face pink, her eyes dancing with + excitement. There was something appealing about her, in the big childish + eyes, and in the well-bred voice with its faint hint of a French accent. + The girl she looked at could hardly have been called pretty—she was + slender and long-limbed, with honest grey eyes and a sensitive mouth that + seemed always ready to break into smiles. A little smile hovered at its + corners now, but her voice held a note of protection. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think we need bother you to tell us,” she said. “In our country + it's a very ordinary thing to give anyone a lift, if you have a seat to + spare. Isn't it, daddy?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said her father. “And we are to be fellow-passengers, so it + was very lucky that we were there in the nick of time.” + </p> + <p> + Cecilia looked at them gratefully. It might have been so different, she + thought; she might have flung herself on the mercy of people who would + have been suspicious and frigid, or of others who would have treated her + with familiarity and curious questioning. These people were pleasantly + matter-of-fact; glad to help, but plainly anxious to show her that they + considered her affairs none of their business. There was a little catch in + her throat as she answered. + </p> + <p> + “It is very good of you to take me on trust—I know I did an + unwarrantable thing. But my brother, Captain Rainham, will explain + everything, and he will be as grateful to you as I am. He is at the ship + now.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we can hand you over to his care,” said her host. “By the way, is + there any need to guard against the—er—lady you spoke of? Is + she likely to follow you to the docks?” + </p> + <p> + “She doesn't know I'm going,” said Cecilia, dimpling. “Of course, if it + were in a novel she would leap into a swift motor and bid the driver + follow us, and be even now on our heels—” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness!” said the other girl. She twisted so that she could look out of + the tiny window at the back; turning back with a relieved face. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing near us but a carrier's van and a pony cart,” she said. “I + shouldn't think you need worry.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I really don't think I need. My stepmother did see me in the taxi, + but her brain doesn't move very swiftly, nor does she, for that matter—and + I'm sure she wouldn't try to follow me. She knows, too, that if she found + me she couldn't drag me away as if I were two years old. Oh, I'm sure I'm + safe from her now,” finished Cecilia, with a sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, if she comes to the docks she will have your brother to deal + with,” said the big man. “And here we are.” + </p> + <p> + They got out at the big gate where the Irish policeman greeted Cecilia + with a friendly “Did ye find it now, miss?” and beamed upon her when she + held up her wrist, with her watch safely in its place. He examined her + companions' passports, but let her through with an airy “Sure, this young + lady's all right,” which made Cecilia feel that no further proof could be + needed of her respectability. Then Bob came hurrying to meet her. + </p> + <p> + “I was just beginning to get uneasy about you,” he said. “Did you have any + trouble?” + </p> + <p> + “My taxi broke down,” Cecilia answered. “But this lady and gentleman most + kindly gave me a seat, and saved me ever so much trouble. I'll tell you my + story presently.” + </p> + <p> + Bob turned, saluting. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, awfully,” he said. “I wasn't too happy at letting my little + sister run about alone in a strange city, but it couldn't be helped.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very glad we were there,” said the big man. “Now, can you tell me + where luggage should go? My son and a friend are somewhere on the pier, I + suppose, but it doesn't seem as though finding them would be an easy + matter.” + </p> + <p> + The pier, indeed, resembled a hive in which the bees have broken loose. + Beside it lay the huge bulk of the transport, towering high above all the + dock buildings near. Already she swarmed with Australian soldiers, and a + steady stream was still passing aboard by the overhead gangway to the + blare and crash of a regimental march. The pier itself was crowded with + officers, with a sprinkling of women and children—most of them + looking impatient enough at being kept ashore instead of being allowed to + seek their quarters on the ship. Great heaps of trunks were stacked here + and there, and a crane was steadily at work swinging them aboard. + </p> + <p> + “We can't go aboard yet, nobody seems to know why,” Bob said. “An + individual called an embarkation officer, or something of the kind, has to + check our passports; he was supposed to be here before three o'clock, but + there's no sign of him yet, and every one has to wait his convenience. + It's hard on the women with little children—the poor mites are + getting tired and cross. Luggage can be left in the care of the ship's + hands, to be loaded; I'll show you where, sir, if you like. Is this + yours?” His eye fell on a truck-load of trunks, wheeled up by a porter, + and lit up suddenly as he noticed the name on their labels. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—are you Mr. Linton?” he exclaimed. “I believe I've got a letter + for you, from General Harran.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, I was wondering where I'd heard your name before, when your sister + happened to say you were Captain Rainham,” said the big man. “How stupid + of me—of course, I met Harran at my club this week, and he told me + about you.” He held out his hand, and took Bob's warmly; then he turned to + his daughter. “Norah, it's lucky that we have made friends with Miss + Rainham already, because you know she's in our care, after a fashion.” + </p> + <p> + Norah Linton turned with a quick smile. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad,” she said. “I've been wondering what you would be like, + because we didn't know of anyone else on board.” + </p> + <p> + “General Harran told my brother that you would befriend us, but I did not + think you would begin so early,” Cecilia said. “Just fancy, Bob, they + rescued me almost from the clutches of the she-dragon!” + </p> + <p> + Bob jumped. + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean to say you met her?” + </p> + <p> + “I did—as soon as my cab broke down. And I lost my head and ran from + her like a hare, and jumped into Mr. Linton's car!” + </p> + <p> + Bob regarded her with solemn amazement. + </p> + <p> + “So this is what happens when I let you go about alone!” he ejaculated. + “Why, you might have got yourself into an awful mess—it might have + been anybody's car—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it wasn't,” said his sister serenely. “You see, I looked at Miss + Linton first, and I knew it would be all right.” + </p> + <p> + The Lintons laughed unrestrainedly. + </p> + <p> + “That's your look of benevolent old age, Norah,” said her father. “I've + often noticed it coming on.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd mention it to Wally,” Norah said. “He might treat me with + more respect if you did.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt it; it isn't in Wally,” said her father. “Now, Rainham, shall we + see about this luggage?” + </p> + <p> + They handed it over to the care of deck hands, and watched it loaded, with + many other trunks, into a huge net, which the crane seized, swung to an + enormous height and then lowered gently upon the deck of the Nauru. Just + as the operation was finished two figures threaded their way through the + crowd towards them; immensely tall young officers, with the badge of a + British regiment on their caps. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, dad,” said the taller—a good-looking grave-faced fellow, + with a strong resemblance to Norah. “We hardly expected you down so + early.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Norah and I had nothing to do, so we thought we might as well come; + though it appears that we would have been wiser not to hurry,” said Mr. + Linton. “Jim, I want to introduce you to two courageous emigrants—Miss + Rainham, Captain Rainham—my son.” + </p> + <p> + Jim Linton shook hands, and introduced his companion, Captain Meadows, who + was dark and well built, with an exceedingly merry eye. + </p> + <p> + “We've been trying to get round the powers that be, to make our way on + board,” he said. “The chief difficulty is that the powers that be aren't + there; everything is hung up waiting for this blessed official. I suppose + the honest man is sleeping off the effects of a heavy lunch.” + </p> + <p> + “If he knew what hearty remarks are being made about him by over two + hundred angry people, it might disturb his rest,” said Wally Meadows. + “Come along and see them—you're only on the fringe of the crowd + here.” + </p> + <p> + “Wally's been acting as nursemaid for the last half hour,” Jim said, as + they made their way along the pier. “He rescued a curly-haired kid from a + watery grave—at least, it would have been in if he hadn't caught it + by the hind leg—and after that the kid refused to let him go.” + </p> + <p> + “He was quite a jolly kid,” said Wally. “Only he seems to have quicksilver + in him, instead of blood. I'm sorry for his mother—she'll have a + packed time for the next five weeks.” He sighed. “Hide me, Norah—there + he is now!” + </p> + <p> + The curly-haired one proved to be little Tim Burton, who detached himself + from his mother on catching sight of Wally, and trotted across to him with + a shrill cry of “There's mine officer!”—whereat Wally swung him up + on his shoulder, to his infinite delight. Mrs. Burton hurried up to claim + her offspring, and was made known to every one by Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + “It's such an awful wait,” she said wearily. “We came here soon after two + o'clock, thinking we would get the children on board early for their + afternoon sleep; now it's after four, and we have stood here ever since. + It's too tantalizing with the ship looking at us, and the poor babies are + so tired. Still, I'm not the worst off. Look at that poor girl.” + </p> + <p> + She pointed out a white-faced girl who was sitting in a drooping attitude + on a very dirty wooden case. She was dainty and refined in appearance; and + looking at her, one felt that the filthy case was the most welcome thing + she had found that afternoon. Her husband, an officer scarcely more than a + boy, stood beside, trying vainly to hush the cries of a tiny baby. She put + up her arms wearily as they looked at her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, give her to me, Harry.” She took the little bundle and crooned over + it; and the baby wailed on unceasingly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Norah Linton. She took a quick stride forward. They watched her + accost the young mother—saw the polite, yet stiff, refusal on the + English girl's face; saw Norah, with a swift decided movement stoop down + and take the baby from the reluctant arms, putting any protest aside with + a laugh. A laugh went round the Linton party also. + </p> + <p> + “I knew she'd get it,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Rather!” his friend echoed. “But she hasn't arms enough for all the + babies who want mothering here.” + </p> + <p> + There were indeed plenty of them. Tired young mothers stood about + everywhere, with children ranging from a few months to three or four + years, all weary by this time, and most of them cross. Harassed young + husbands, unused to travelling with children—unused, indeed, to + anything but War—went hither and thither trying to hasten the + business of getting on board—coming back, after each useless + journey, to try and soothe a screaming baby or restrain a tiny boy anxious + to look over the edge of the pier. It was only a few minutes before + Cecilia had found a mother exhausted enough to yield up her baby without + much protest; and Jim and Wally Meadows and Bob “adopted” some of the + older children, and took them off to see the band; which diversions helped + to pass the time. But it was after five o'clock before a stir went round + the pier, and a rush of officers towards a little wooden room at the foot + of the gangway told that the long-waited-for official had arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we won't hurry,” said Mr. Linton. “Let the married men get on + first.” + </p> + <p> + There were not many who did not hurry. A few of the older officers kept + back; the majority, who were chiefly subalterns, made a dense crowd about + the little room, their long-pent impatience bursting out at last. + Passports examined, a procession began up the gangway; each man compelled + to halt at a barrier on top, where two officers sat allotting cabins. It + was difficult to see why both these preliminaries could not have been + managed before, instead of being left until the moment of boarding; the + final block strained every one's patience to breaking-point. + </p> + <p> + The Lintons and the Rainhams were almost the last to board the ship, + having, not without thankfulness, relinquished their adopted babies. The + officers allotting berths nodded comprehendingly on hearing the names of + the two girls. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes—you're together.” He gave them their number. + </p> + <p> + “Together—how curious!” said Cecilia. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit; you're the only unmarried ladies on board. And they're packed + like sardines—not a vacant berth on the ship. Over two thousand men + and two hundred officers, to say nothing of wives and children.” He leaned + back, thankful that his rush of work was over. “Well, when I make a long + voyage I hope it won't be on a trooper!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's a bad remark to begin one's journey on,” said Jim Linton, + following the girls up the gangway. “Doesn't it scare you, Miss Rainham?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, with a little laugh. “Nothing would scare me except not + going.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's all right,” he said. His hand fell on his sister's shoulder. + “And what about you, Nor?” + </p> + <p> + The face she turned him was so happy that words were hardly needed. + </p> + <p> + “Why—I'm going back to Billabong!” she said. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE WELCOME OF AUSTRALIA + </h3> + <p> + A path of moonlight lay across the sea. Into it drifted a great ship, her + engines almost stopped, so that only a dull, slow throb came up from + below, instead of the swift thud-thud of the screw that had pounded for + many weeks. It was late; so late that most of the ship's lights were + extinguished. But all through her was a feeling of pulsating life, of + unrest, of a kind of tense excitement, of long-pent expectation. There + were low voices everywhere; feet paced the decks; along the port railings + on each deck soldiers were clustered thickly, looking out across the grey, + tossing sea to a winking light that flashed and twinkled out of the + darkness like a voice that cried “Greeting!” For it was the Point Lonsdale + light, at the sea gate of Victoria; and the men of the Nauru were nearly + home. + </p> + <p> + There was little sleep for anyone on board on that last night. Most of the + Nauru's great company were to disembark in Melbourne; the last two days + had seen a general smartening up, a mighty polishing of leather and brass, + a “rounding-up” of scattered possessions. The barber's shop had been + besieged by shaggy crowds; and since the barber, being but human, could + not cope with more than a small proportion of his would-be customers, + amateur clipping parties had been in full swing forward, frequently with + terrifying results. Nobody minded. “Git it orf, that's all that matters!” + was the motto of the long-haired. + </p> + <p> + No one knew quite when the Nauru would berth; it was wrapped in mystery, + like all movements of troopships. So every one was ready the night before—kit + bags packed, gear stowed away, nothing left save absolute necessaries. + Then, with the coming of dusk, unrest settled down upon the ship, and the + men marched restlessly, up and down, or, gripping pipe stems between their + teeth, stared from the railings northwards. And then, like a star at + first, the Point Lonsdale light twinkled out of the darkness, and a low + murmur ran round the decks—a murmur without words, since it came + from men whose only fashion of meeting any emotion is with a joke; and + even for a “digger” there is no joke ready on the lips, but only a catch + at the heart, at the first glimpse of home. + </p> + <p> + Norah Linton had tucked herself away behind a boat on the hurricane deck, + and there Cecilia Rainham found her just after dusk. The two girls had + become sworn friends during the long voyage out, in the close + companionship of sharing a cabin—which is a kind of acid test that + generally brings out the best—and worst—of travellers. There + was something protective in Norah's nature that responded instantly to the + lonely position of the girl who was going across the world to a strange + country. Both were motherless, but in Norah's case the blank was softened + by a father who had striven throughout his children's lives to be father + and mother alike to them, while Cecilia had only the bitter memory of the + man who had shirked his duty until he had become less than a stranger to + her. If any pang smote her heart at the sight of Norah's worshipping love + for the tall grey “dad” for whom she was the very centre of existence, + Cecilia did not show it. The Lintons had taken them into their little + circle at once—more, perhaps, by reason of Cecilia's extraordinary + introduction to them than through General Harran's letter—and Bob + and his sister were already grateful for their friendship. They were a + quiet quartet, devoted to each other in their undemonstrative fashion; + Norah was on a kind of boyish footing with Jim, the huge silent brother + who was a major, with three medal ribbons to his credit, and with Wally + Meadows, his inseparable chum, who had been almost brought up with the + brother and sister. + </p> + <p> + “They were always such bricks to me, even when I was a little scrap of a + thing,” she had told Cecilia. “They never said I was 'only a girl,' and + kept me out of things. So I grew up more than three parts a boy. It was so + much easier for dad to manage three boys, you see!” + </p> + <p> + “You don't look much like a boy,” Cecilia had said, looking at the tall, + slender figure and the mass of curly brown hair. They were getting ready + for bed, and Norah was wielding a hair-brush vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “No, but I really believe I feel like one—at least, I do whenever I + am with Jim and Wally,” Norah had answered. “And when we get back to + Billabong it will be just as it always was—we'll be three boys + together. You know, it's the most ridiculous thing to think of Jim and + Wally as grown-ups. Dad and I can't get accustomed to it at all. And as + for Jim being a major!—a major sounds so dignified and respectable, + and Jim isn't a bit like that!” + </p> + <p> + “And what about Captain Meadows?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—Wally will simply never grow up.” Norah laughed softly. “He's + like Peter Pan. Once he nearly managed it—in that bad time when Jim + was a prisoner, and we thought he was killed. But Jim got back just in + time to save him from anything so awful. One of the lovely parts of + getting Jim again was to see the twinkle come back into Wally's eyes. You + see, Wally is practically all twinkle!” + </p> + <p> + “And when you get back to Australia, what will you all do?” + </p> + <p> + Norah had looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know that we've ever thought of it,” she said. “We'll just + all go to Billabong—we don't seem to think further than that. + Anyway, you and Bob are coming too—so we can plan it all out then.” + </p> + <p> + Looking at her, on this last night of the voyage, Cecilia wondered whether + the unknown “Billabong” would indeed be enough, after the long years of + war. They had been children when they left; now the boys were seasoned + soldiers, with scars and honours, and such memories as only they + themselves could know; and Norah and her father had for years conducted + what they termed a “Home for Tired People,” where broken and weary men + from the front had come to be healed and tended, and sent back refitted in + mind and body. This girl, who leaned over the rail and looked at the Point + Lonsdale light, had seen suffering and sorrow; the mourning of those who + had given up dear ones, the sick despair of young and strong men crippled + in the very dawn of life; and had helped them all. Beside her, in + experience, Cecilia felt a child. And yet the old bush home, with its + simple life and the pleasures that had been everything to her in + childhood, seemed everything to her now. + </p> + <p> + Cecilia went softly to her side, and Norah turned with a start. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, Tommy!” she said, slipping her arm through the new-comer's—Cecilia + had become “Tommy” to them all in a very short time, and her hated, if + elegant, name left as a legacy to England. “I didn't hear you come. Oh, + Tommy, it's lovely to see home again!” + </p> + <p> + “You can't see much,” said Tommy, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “No, but it's there. I can feel it; and that old winking eye on Point + Lonsdale is saying fifty nice things a minute. And I can smell the gum + leaves—don't you tell me I can't, Tommy, just because your nose + isn't tuned up to gum leaves yet!” + </p> + <p> + “Does it take long to tune a nose?” asked Tommy, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Not a nice nose like yours.” Norah gave a happy little sigh. “Do you see + that glow in the sky? That's the lights of Melbourne. I went to school + near Melbourne, but I never loved it much; but somehow, it seems different + now. It's all just shouting welcomes. And back of beyond that light is + Billabong.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to see Billabong,” said the other girl. “I never had a home that + meant anything like that—I want to see yours.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you'll just think it's an ordinary, untidy old place—not + a bit like the trim English places, where the woods look as though they + were swept and dusted before breakfast every morning. I suppose it is all + ordinary. But it has meant just everything I wanted, all my life, and I + can't imagine its meaning anything less now.” + </p> + <p> + “And what about Homewood—the Home for Tired People?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Homewood certainly is lovely,” Norah said. “I like it better than any + place in the world that isn't Billabong—and it was just wonderful to + be able to carry it on for the Tired People: dad and I will always be + thankful we had the chance. But it never was home: and now it's going to + run itself happily without us, as a place for partly-disabled men, with + Colonel Hunt and Captain Hardress to manage it. It was just a single + chapter in our lives, and now it is closed. But we're—all of us—parts + of Billabong.” + </p> + <p> + Some one came quietly along the deck and to the vacant place on her other + side. + </p> + <p> + “Who's talking Billabong again, old kiddie?” Jim Linton's deep voice was + always gentle. Norah gave his shoulder a funny little rub with her head. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you're just as bad as I am, so you needn't laugh at me, Jimmy.” + </p> + <p> + “I wasn't laughing at you,” Jim defended himself. “I expected to find you + ever so much worse. I thought you'd sing anthems on the very word + Billabong all through the voyage, especially in your bath. Of course I + don't know what Tommy has suffered!” + </p> + <p> + “Tommy doesn't need your sympathy,” said that lady. “However, she wants to + look her best for Melbourne, so she's going to bed. Don't hurry, Norah; I + know you want to exchange greetings with that light for hours yet!” + </p> + <p> + She slipped away, and Norah drew closer to Jim. Presently came Wally, on + her other side, and a few moments later a deep voice behind them said, + “Not in bed yet, Norah?”—and Wally made room for Mr. Linton. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't go to bed, dad.” + </p> + <p> + “Apparently most of the ship is of your mind—I didn't feel like bed + myself,” admitted the squatter, letting his hand rest for a moment on his + daughter's shoulder. He gave a great sigh of happiness. “Eh, children, + it's great to be near home again!” + </p> + <p> + “My word, isn't it!” said Jim. “Only it's hard to take in. I keep fancying + that I'll certainly wake up in a minute and find myself in a trench, just + getting ready to go over the top. What do you suppose they're doing at + Billabong now, Nor?” + </p> + <p> + “Asleep,” said Norah promptly. “Oh, I don't know—I don't believe + Brownie's asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “I know she's not,” Wally said. He and the old nurse-housekeeper of + Billabong were sworn allies; though no one could ever quite come up to Jim + and Norah in Brownie's heart, Wally had been a close third from the day, + long years back, that he had first come to the station, a lonely, + dark-eyed little Queenslander. “She's made the girls scrub and polish + until there's nothing left for them to rub, and she's harried Hogg and Lee + Wing until there isn't a leaf looking crooked in all the garden, and she + and Murty have planned all about meeting you for the hundred and first + time.” + </p> + <p> + “And she's planning to make pikelets for you!” put in Norah. + </p> + <p> + “Bless her. I wouldn't wonder. She's planning the very wildest cooking, of + course—do you remember what the table used to be the night we came + home from school? And now she's gone round all the rooms to make sure she + couldn't spend another sixpence on them, and she's sitting by her window + trying to see us all on the Nauru. 'Specially you, old Nor.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis the gift of second sight you have,” said Jim admiringly. “A few + hundred years ago you'd have got yourself ducked as a witch or something.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Wally and Brownie were always twin souls; no wonder each knows what + the other is thinking of,” Norah said, laughing. “It all sounds exactly + true, at any rate. Boys, what a pity you can't land in uniform—wouldn't + they all love to see you!” + </p> + <p> + “Can't do it,” Jim said. “Too long since we were shot out of the army; any + enterprising provost-marshal could make himself obnoxious about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know—but I'm sorry,” answered Norah. “Brownie won't be satisfied + unless she sees you in all your war paint.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll put it on some night for dinner,” Jim promised. He peered suddenly + into the darkness. “There's a moving light—it's the pilot steamer + coming out for us.” + </p> + <p> + They watched the light pass slowly from the dim region that meant the + Heads, until, as the pilot boat swung out through the Rip to where the + Nauru lay, her other lights grew clear, and presently her whole outline + loomed indistinctly, suddenly close to them. She lay to across a little + heaving strip of sea, and presently the pilot was being pulled across to + them by a couple of men and was coming nimbly up the Nauru's ladder, hand + over hand. He nodded cheerily at his welcome—a fusillade of + greetings from every “digger” who could find a place at the railings, and + a larger number who could not, but contented themselves with shouting + sweet nothings from behind their comrades. A lean youngster near Jim + Linton looked down enviously at the retreating boat. + </p> + <p> + “If I could only slide down into her, an' nick off to the old Alvina over + there, I'd be home before breakfast,” he said. “Me people live at + Queenscliff—don't it seem a fair cow to have to go past 'em, right + up to Melbourne?” + </p> + <p> + The pilot's head appeared above on the bridge, beside the captain's, and + presently the Nauru gathered way, and, slowly turning, forged through the + tossing waters of the Rip. Before her the twin lights of the Heads opened + out; soon she was gliding between them, and under the silent guns of the + Queenscliff forts, and past the twinkling house lights of the little + seaside town. There were long coo-ees from the diggers, with shrill, + piercing whistles of greeting for Victoria; from ashore came faint + answering echoes. But the four people from Billabong stood silently, glad + of each other's nearness, but with no words, and in David Linton's heart + and Norah's was a great surge of thankfulness that, out of many perils, + they were bringing their boys safely home. + </p> + <p> + The Nauru turned across Port Phillip Bay, and presently they felt the + engines cease, and there came the rattle of the chain as the anchor shot + into the sea. + </p> + <p> + “As the captain thought,” said Jim. “He fancied they'd anchor us off + Portsea for the night and bring us up to Port Melbourne in the morning, + after we'd been inspected. Wouldn't it be the limit if some one developed + measles now, and they quarantined us!” + </p> + <p> + “You deserve quarantining, if ever anyone did,” said Norah, indignantly. + “Why do you have such horrible ideas?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—they just seem to waft themselves to me,” said Jim + modestly. “Anyhow, the quarantine station is a jolly little place for a + holiday, and the sea view is delightful.” He broke off, laughing, and + suddenly flung his arm round her shoulders in the dusk of the deck. “I + think I'm just about insane at getting home,” he said. “Don't mind me, old + kiddie—and you'd better go to bed, or you'll be a ghost in the + morning.” + </p> + <p> + They weighed anchor after breakfast, following a perfunctory medical + inspection—so perfunctory that one youth who, having been a medical + student, and knowing well that he had a finely-developed feverish cold, + with a high temperature, and not wishing to embarrass his + fellow-passengers, placed in his mouth the wrong end of the clinical + thermometer handed him by the visiting nurse. He sucked this gravely for + the prescribed time, reversing it just as she reappeared; and, being + marked normal and given a clean bill of health, returned to his berth to + shiver and perspire between huge doses of quinine. More than one such hero + evaded the searching eye of regulations; until finally the Nauru, free to + land her passengers, steamed slowly up the Bay. + </p> + <p> + One by one the old, familiar landmarks opened out—Mornington, + Frankston, Mordialloc, while Melbourne itself lay hidden in a mist cloud + ahead. Then, as the sun grew stronger the mist lifted, and domes and + spires pierced the dun sky, towering above the jumbled mass of the grey + city. They drew closer to Port Melbourne, and lo! St. Kilda and all the + foreshore were gay with flags, and all the ships in the harbour were + dressed to welcome them; and beyond the pier were long lines of motors, + each beflagged, waiting for the fighting men whom the Nauru was bringing + home. + </p> + <p> + “Us!” said a boy. “Why, it's us! Flags an' motors—an' a blessed band + playin' on the pier! Wot on earth are they fussin' over us for? Ain't it + enough to get home?” + </p> + <p> + The band of the Nauru was playing Home, Sweet Home, very low and tenderly, + and there were lumps in many throats, and many a pipe went out unheeded. + Slowly the great ship drew in to the pier, where officers in uniform + waited, and messengers of welcome from the Government. Beyond the barriers + that held the general public back from the pier was a black mass of + people; cheer upon cheer rose, to be wafted back from the transport, where + the “diggers” lined every inch of the port side, clinging like monkeys to + yards and rigging. Then the Nauru came to rest at last, and the gangways + rattled down, and the march off began, to the quick lilt of the band + playing “Oh, it's a Lovely War.” The men took up the words, singing as + they marched back to Victoria—coming back, as they had gone, with a + joke on their lips. So the waiting motors received them, and rolled them + off in triumphal procession to Melbourne, between the cheering crowds. + </p> + <p> + From the top deck the Lintons, with the Rainhams, watched the men go—disembarkation + was for the troops first, and not till all had gone could the unattached + officers leave the ship. The captain came to them, at last a normal and + friendly captain—no more the official master of a troopship, in + which capacity, as he ruefully said, he could make no friends, and could + scarcely regard his ship as his own, provided he brought her safely from + port to port. He cast a disgusted glance along the stained and littered + decks. + </p> + <p> + “This is her last voyage as a trooper, and I'm not sorry,” he said. “After + this she'll lie up for three months to be refitted; and then I'll command + a ship again and not a barracks. You wouldn't think now, to see her on + this voyage, that the time was when I had to know the reason why if there + was so much as a stain the size of a sixpence on the deck. Oh yes, it's + been all part of the job, and I'm proud of all the old ship has done, and + the thousands of men she's carried; and we've had enough narrow squeaks, + from mines and submarines, to fill a book. But I'm beginning to hanker + mightily to see her clean!” + </p> + <p> + The Lintons laughed unfeelingly. A little mild grumbling might well be + permitted to a man with his record; few merchant captains had done finer + service in the war, and the decoration on his breast testified to his cool + handling of his ship in the “narrow squeaks” he spoke of lightly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. I never get any sympathy,” said the captain, laughing himself. + “And yet I'll wager Miss Linton was 'house-proud' in that 'Home for Tired + People' of hers, and she ought to sympathize with a tidy man. You should + have seen my wife's face when she came aboard once at Liverpool, and saw + the ship; and she's never had the same respect for me since! There—the + last man is off the ship, and the gangways are clear; nothing to keep all + you homesick people now.” He said good-bye, and ran up the steps to his + cabin under the bridge. + </p> + <p> + It was a queer home-coming at first, to a vast pier, empty save for a few + officials and policemen—for no outsiders were allowed within the + barriers. But once clear of customs officials and other formalities they + packed themselves into cabs, and in a few moments were outside the + railed-off space, turning into a road lined on either side with people—all + peering into the long procession of cabs, in the hope of finding their own + returning dear ones. It was but a few moments before a posse of uncles, + aunts and cousins swooped down upon the Lintons, whose cab prudently + turned down a side street to let the wave of welcome expend itself. In the + side street, too, were motors belonging to the aunts and uncles; and + presently the new arrivals were distributed among them, and were being + rushed up to Melbourne, along roads still crowded by the people who had + flocked to welcome the “diggers” home. The Rainhams found themselves + adopted by this new and cheery band of people—at least half of whose + names they never learned; not that this seemed to matter in the least. It + was something new to them, and very un-English; but there was no doubt + that it made landing in a new country a very different thing from their + half-fearful anticipations. + </p> + <p> + “And you really came out all alone—not knowing anyone!” said an + aunt. “Aren't you English people plucky! And I believe that most of you + think we're all black fellows—or did until our diggers went home, + and proved unexpectedly white!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think we're quite so bad as that!” Bob said, laughing. “But + certainly we never expected quite so kind a welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we're all immensely interested in people who take the trouble to come + across the world to see us,” said Mrs. Geoffrey Linton. “That is, if they + don't put on 'side'; we don't take kindly to being patronized. And you + have no idea how many new chums do patronize us. Did you know, by the way, + that you're new chums now?” + </p> + <p> + “It has been carefully drilled into us on the ship,” Bob said gravely. “I + think we know pretty well all we have to face—the snakes that creep + into new chums' boots and sleep under their pillows, the goannas that bite + our toes if we aren't watchful, and the mosquitoes that sit on the trees + and bark!” + </p> + <p> + “Also the tarantulas that drop from everywhere, especially into food,” + added Tommy, dimpling. “And the bush fires every Sunday morning, and the + blacks that rush down—what is it? Oh yes, the Block, casting + boomerangs about! There is much spare time on a troopship, Mrs. Linton, + and all of it was employed by the subalterns in telling us what we might + expect!” + </p> + <p> + “I can quite imagine it,” Mrs. Geoffrey laughed. “Oh well, Billabong will + be a good breaking-in. Norah tells me you are going up there at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not quite at once,” Bob said. “We think it is only fair to let them + get home without encumbrances, and as we have to present other letters of + introduction in Melbourne, we'll stay here for a few days, and then follow + them.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must come out to us,” said Mrs. Geoffrey firmly. “No use to ask + my brother-in-law, of course; he has just one idea, and that is to stay at + Scott's, get his luggage through the customs, see his bankers as quickly + as possible, and then get back to his beloved Billabong. If we get them + out to dinner to-night, it's as much as we can hope for. But you two must + come to us—we can run you here and there in the car to see the + people you want.” She put aside their protests, laughing. “Why, you don't + know how much we like capturing bran-new English people—and think + what you have done for our boys all these four years! From what they tell + us, if anyone wants to go anywhere or do anything he likes in England, all + he has to do is to wear a digger's slouched hat!” + </p> + <p> + They stopped in Collins Street, and in a moment the new-comers, slightly + bewildered, found themselves in a tea-room; a new thing in tea-rooms to + Tommy and Bob, since it was a vision of russet and gold—brown wood, + masses of golden wattle and daffodils, and of bronze gum leaves; and even + the waitresses flitted about in russet-brown dresses. David Linton hung + back at the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't a party, Winifred?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear David, only a few people who want to welcome you back. Really, + you're just as bad as ever!” said his sister-in-law, half vexed. “The + children's school friends, too—Jim and Wally's mates. You can't + expect us to get you all back, after so long—and with all those + honours, too!—and not give people a chance of shaking hands with + you.” At which point Norah said, gently, but firmly, “Dad, you mustn't be + naughty,” and led him within. + </p> + <p> + Some one grasped his hand. “Well, Linton, old chap!” And he found himself + greeting the head of a big “stock and station” firm. Some one else clapped + him on the shoulder, and he turned to meet his banker; behind them towered + half a dozen old squatter friends, with fellow clubmen, all trying at once + to get hold of his hand. David Linton's constitutional shyness melted in + the heartiness of their greeting. Beyond them Norah seemed to be the + centre of a mass of girls, one of whom presently detached herself, and + came to him. He said in amazement, “Why, it's Jean Yorke—and grown + up!” and actually kissed her, to the great delight of Jean, who had been + an old mate of Norah's. As for Jim and Wally, they were scarcely to be + seen, save for their heads, in a cluster of lads, who were pounding and + smiting them wherever space permitted. Altogether, it was a confused and + cheerful gathering, and, much to the embarrassment of the russet-brown + waitresses, the last thing anybody thought of was tea. + </p> + <p> + Still, when the buzz of greetings had subsided, and at length “morning + tea”—that time-honoured institution of Australia—had a chance + to appear, it was of a nature to make the new arrivals gasp. The last four + years in England had fairly broken people in to plain living; dainties and + luxuries had disappeared so completely from the table that every one had + ceased to think about them. Therefore, the Linton party blinked in + amazement at the details of what to Melbourne was a very ordinary tea, + and, forgetting its manners, broke into open comment. + </p> + <p> + “Cakes!” said Wally faintly. “Jean, you might catch me if I swoon.” + </p> + <p> + “What's wrong with the cakes?” said Jean Yorke, bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—except that they are cakes! Jim!”—he caught at his + chum's sleeve—“that substance in enormous layers in that enormous + slice is called cream. Real cream. When did you see cream last, my son?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm hanged if I know,” Jim answered, grinning. “About four years ago, I + suppose. I'd forgotten it existed. And the cakes look as if they didn't + fall to pieces if you touched 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “What, do the English cakes do that?” asked a pained aunt. + </p> + <p> + “Rather—when there are any. It's something they take out of the war + flour—what is it, Nor?” + </p> + <p> + “Gluten, I think it's called,” said Norah doubtfully. “It's something that + ordinarily makes flour stick together, but they took it all out of the war + flour, and put it into munitions. So everything you made with war flour + was apt to be dry and crumbly. And when you made cakes with it, and war + sugar, which was half full of queer stuff like plaster of paris, and egg + substitute, because eggs—when you could get them—were + eightpence halfpenny, and butter substitute (and very little of that)—well, + they weren't exactly what you would call cakes at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Butter substitute!” said the aunt faintly. “I could not live without good + butter!” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, Norah and dad hadn't tasted butter for nearly three years + before they came on board the Nauru,” said Jim. “It was affecting to see + Nor greeting a pat of butter for the first time!” + </p> + <p> + “But you had some butter—we read about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Two ounces per head weekly—but they put all their ration into the + 'Tired People's food,'” said Wally. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't only dad and I,” said Norah quickly. “Every soul we employed + did that—Irish maids, butler, cook-lady and all. And we hadn't to + ask one of them to do it. The Tired People always had butter. They used to + think we had a special allowance from Government, but we hadn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” said the aunt. “It's too terrible. And meat?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, meat was very short,” said Norah, laughing. “Of course we were fairly + well off for our Tired People, because they had soldiers' rations; but + even so, we almost forgot what a joint looked like. Stews and hot pots and + made dishes—you call them that because you make them of anything but + meat! We became very clever at camouflaging meat dishes. Somehow the Tired + People ate them all. But”—she paused, laughing—“you know I + never thought I could feel greedy for meat. And I did—I just longed, + quite often, for a chop!” + </p> + <p> + “And could you not have one?” + </p> + <p> + “Gracious, no!” Norah looked amazed. “Chops were quite the most + extravagant thing of all—too much bone. You see, the meat ration + included bone and fat, and I can tell you we were pretty badly worried if + we got too much of either.” + </p> + <p> + “To think of all she knows,” said the aunt, regarding her with a tearful + eye. Whereat Norah laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I could tell you lots of homely things,” she said. “How we always + boiled bones for soup at least four times before we looked on them as used + up; and how we worked up sheep's heads into the most wonderful chicken + galantines; and—but would you mind if I ate some walnut cake + instead? It's making me tremble even to look at it.” + </p> + <p> + After which Jean Yorke and the russet-brown waitresses vied in plying the + new-comers with the most elaborate cakes, until even Jim and Wally begged + for mercy. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to remember we're not used to these things,” Wally protested, + waving away a strange erection of cream, icing and wafery pastry. “If I + ate that it would go to my head, and I'd have to be removed in an + ambulance. And the awful part of it is—I want to eat it. Take it out + of my sight, Jean, or I'll yield, and the consequences will be awful.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is too dreadful to think of all you poor souls have gone through,” + said an aunt soulfully. “How little we in Australia know of what war + means!” + </p> + <p> + “But if it comes to that, how little we knew!” Norah exclaimed, “Why, + there we were, only a few miles from the fighting—you could hear the + guns on a still day, when a big action was going on; and except for the + people who came directly in the way of air raids, England knew little or + nothing of war: I mean, war as the people of Belgium and Northern France + knew it. The worst we had to admit was that we didn't get everything we + liked to eat, and that was a joke compared to what we might have had. + Hardly anyone in England went cold or hungry through the war, and so I + don't think we knew much about it either.” She broke off blushing + furiously, to find every one listening to her. “I didn't mean to make a + speech.” + </p> + <p> + “It's quite true, though,” said her father, “even if you did make a speech + about it. There were privations in some cases, no doubt—invalids + sometimes suffered, or men used to a heavy meat diet, whose wives had not + knowledge—or fuel—enough to cook substitutes properly. On the + other hand, there was no unemployment, and the poor were better fed than + they had ever been, since every one could make good wages at munitions. + The death rate among civilians was very much lower than usual. People + learned to eat less, and not to waste—and the pre-war waste in + England was terrific. And I say—and I think we all say—that + anyone who grumbles about 'privations' in England deserves to know what + real war means—as the women of Belgium know it.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, and Norah regarded him with great pride, since his remarks + were usually strictly limited to the fewest possible words. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's rather refreshing to hear you talk,” remarked another + squatter. “A good many people have come back telling most pathetic tales + of all they had to endure. I suppose, though, that some were worse off + than you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly,” David Linton said. “We knew one Australian, an officer's + wife, who was stranded in a remote corner of South Wales with two servants + and two babies; it was just at the time of greatest scarcity before + compulsory rationing began, when most of the food coming in was kept in + the big towns and the Midlands. That woman could certainly get milk for + her youngsters; but for three months the only foods she and her maids were + sure of getting were war bread, potatoes, haricot beans and salt herrings. + She was a good way from the nearest town, and there was deep snow most of + the time. There was no carting out to her place, and by the time she could + get into the town most of the food shops would be empty.” + </p> + <p> + “And if you saw the salt herrings!” said Norah. “They come down from + Scotland, packed thousands in a barrel. They're about the length and + thickness of a comb, and if you soak them for a day in warm water and then + boil them, you can begin to think about them as a possible food. But Mrs. + Burton and her maids ate them for three months. She didn't seem to think + she had anything to grumble about—in fact, she said she still felt + friendly towards potatoes, but she hoped she'd never see a herring or a + bean again!” + </p> + <p> + “She had her own troubles about coal, too,” remarked Jim. “The only coal + down there is a horrible brownish stuff that falls into damp slack if you + look at it; it's generally used only for furnaces, but people had to draw + their coal allowance from the nearest supply, and it was all she could + get. The only way to use the beastly stuff was to mix it with wet, salt + mud from the river into what the country people call culm—then you + cut it into blocks, or make balls of it, and it hardens. She couldn't get + a man to do it for her, and she used to mix all her culm herself—and + you wouldn't call it woman's work, even in Germany. But she used to tell + it as a kind of joke.” + </p> + <p> + “She used to look on herself as one of the really lucky women,” said David + Linton, “because her husband didn't get killed. And I think she was—herrings + and culm and all. And we're even luckier, since we've all come back to + Australia, and to such a welcome as you've given us.” He stood up, smiling + his slow, pleasant smile at them all. “And now I think I've got to go + chasing the Customs, if I'm ever to disinter our belongings and get home.” + </p> + <p> + The girls took possession of Norah and Tommy, who left their menfolk to + the drear business of clearing luggage, and thankfully spent the afternoon + in the Botanical Gardens, glad to have firm ground under their feet after + six weeks of sea. Then they all met at dinner at Mrs. Geoffrey Linton's, + where they found her son, Cecil, who greeted Norah with something of + embarrassment. There was an old score between Norah and Cecil Linton, + although they had not seen each other for years; but its memory died out + in Norah's heart as she looked at her cousin's military badge and noted + that he dragged one foot slightly. Indeed, there was no room in Norah's + heart for anything but happiness. + </p> + <p> + The aunts and uncles tried hard to persuade David Linton to remain a few + days in Melbourne, but he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I've been homesick for five years,” he told them. “And it feels like + fifty. I'll come down again, I promise—yes, and bring the children, + of course. But just now I can't wait. I've got to get home.” + </p> + <p> + “That old Billabong!” said Mrs. Geoffrey, half laughing. “Are you going to + live and die in the backblocks, David?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly—at least I hope so,” he said. “I suppose there must + be lucid intervals, now that Norah is grown up, or imagines she is—not + that she seems to me a bit different from the time when her hair was down. + Still I suppose I must bring her to town, and let her make her curtsy at + Government House, and do all the correct things—” + </p> + <p> + Some one slipped a hand through his arm. + </p> + <p> + “But when we've done them, daddy,” said Norah cheerfully, “there will + always be Billabong to go home to!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + BILLABONG + </h3> + <p> + “Will it be fine, Murty?” + </p> + <p> + The person addressed made no answer for a moment, continuing to stare at + the western horizon with his eyes wrinkled and his face anxious. He turned + presently; a tall, grizzled man, with the stooping shoulders and the + slightly bowed legs that are the heritage of those who spend nine-tenths + of their time in the saddle. + </p> + <p> + “Sorra a one of me knows,” he said. “It's one of thim unchancy days that + might be annything. Have ye looked at the glass?” + </p> + <p> + “It's mejum,” replied the first speaker. She was a vast woman, with a + broad, kindly face, lit by shrewd and twinkling blue eyes, dressed, as was + her custom, in a starched blue print, with a snowy apron. “Mejum only. But + I don't feel comferable at that there bank of clouds, Murty.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd not say meself it was good,” admitted Murty O'Toole, head stockman on + the Billabong run. He looked again at the doubtful sky, and then back to + Mrs. Brown. “Have ye no corns, at all, that 'ud be shootin' on ye if rain + was coming?” + </p> + <p> + “Corns I 'ave, indeed,” said Mrs. Brown, with the sigh of one who admits + that she is but human. “But no—they ain't shootin' worth speakin' + about, Murty. Nor me rheumatic knee ain't givin' tongue, as Master Jim + would say.” + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, that's all to the good,” said the stockman, much cheered. “I'll + not look at the ould sky anny longer—leastways, not till I have that + cup of tea ye were speakin' about.” + </p> + <p> + “Come in then,” said Mrs. Brown, leading the way into the kitchen—a + huge place so glittering with cleanliness and polish that it almost hurt + the eye. “Kettle's boilin'—I'll have it made in a jiffy. No, Murty, + you will not sit on that table. Pounds of bath-brick 'ave gone into me + tables this last week.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye have them always that white I do not see how ye'd want them to be + whiter,” remarked Murty, gazing round him. “But I niver see anything to + aiqual the shine ye have on them tins an' copper. And the stove is that + fine it's a shame to be cookin' with it.” He looked with respect at the + black satin and silver of the stove, where leaping flames glowed redly. + “Well, I'll always say there isn't a heartsomer place to come into than + the Billabong kitchen. And isn't it the little misthress that thinks so?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless her, she was always in and out of it from the time she could + toddle,” said Mrs. Brown, pausing with the teapot in her hand. “And she + wasn't much more than toddlin' before she was at me to teach her to cook. + When she was twelve she could cook a dinner as well as anyone twice her + age. I never see the beat of her—handy as a man out on the run, too—” + </p> + <p> + “She was that,” said Murty solemnly. “Since she was a bit of a thing I + never see the bullock as could get away from her. And the ponies she'd + ride! There was nothin' ever looked through a bridle that cud frighten + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Poof! Miss Norah didn't know what it was to be afraid,” said Mrs. Brown, + filling the huge brown teapot. “Sometimes I've wished she was, for me + heart's been in me mouth often and often when I see her go caperin' down + the track on some mad-'eaded pony.” + </p> + <p> + “An' there was niver a time when they was late home but you made sure the + whole lot of 'em was killed,” said Murty, grinning. “I'd come in here an' + find you wit' all the funerals planned, so to speak—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, go on! At least, I alwuz stayed at home when I was nervis,” said Mrs. + Brown. “Who was it I've known catch an 'orse in the dark, an' go off to + look for 'em when they were a bit late? Not me, Mr. O'Toole!” She filled + his cup and handed it to him with a triumphant air. + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, I misremember doin' any such thing,” said Murty, slightly + confused. “'Tis the way I was most likely goin' afther a sick bullock, or + it might be 'possum shootin'.” He raised his cup and took a deep draught; + then, with a wry face, gazed at its contents. “I dunno is this a new brand + of tea you're afther usin', now? Sure, it looks pale.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brown cast a glance at the cup he held out, and gave a gasp of + horror. + </p> + <p> + “Well, not in all me born days 'ave I made tea an' forgot to put the tea + in!” she exclaimed, snatching it from his hand. “Don't you go an' tell + Dave and Mick, Murty, or I'll never hear the end of it. Lucky there's + plenty of hot water.” She emptied the teapot swiftly, and refilled it, + this time with due regard to the tea-caddy. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Murty, don't you sit there grinnin' at me like a hyener—it + isn't every day I get Miss Norah home.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not,” said Murty, taking his renewed cup and a large piece of bread + and butter. “Sure, I'd not blame ye if ye fried bacon in the tea-pot—not + this morning. I dunno, meself, am I on me head or me heels. All the men is + much the same; they've been fallin' over each other, tryin' to get a + little bit of extra spit-an'-polish on the whole place. I b'lieve Dave + Boone wud 'a' set to work an' whitewashed the paddock fences if I'd + encouraged him at all.” + </p> + <p> + “There's that Sarah,” said Mrs. Brown. “Ornery days it takes me, an alarum + clock, an' Mary, to say nothin' of a wet sponge, to get her out of bed. + But bless you—these last three days she's up before the pair of us, + rubbin' an' polishin' in every corner. An' she an' 'Ogg at each other's + throats over flowers; she wantin' to pick every one to look pretty in the + 'ouse, an' 'Ogg wantin' every one to look pretty in the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hogg's got enough an' to spare,” was Murty's comment. “No union + touch about his work. I reckon he's put in sixteen hours a day at that + garden since we heard they were comin'.” + </p> + <p> + “But there never was any union touch about Billabong,” said Mrs. Brown. + </p> + <p> + “Not much! We all know when we're well off,” said Murty. “I'll bet no + union was ever as good a boss as David Linton.” + </p> + <p> + Two other men appeared at the kitchen door—Mick Shanahan and Dave + Boone—each wearing, in defiance of regulations, some battered + remnant of uniform that marked the “digger,” while Mick, in addition, + would walk always with a slight limp. He was accustomed to say 'twas a + mercy it didn't hinder his profession—which, being that of a + horsebreaker, freed him, as a rule, from the necessity of much walking. + Other men Billabong had sent to the war, and not all of them had come + back; the lonely station had been a place of anxiety and of mourning. But + to-day the memories of the long years of fighting and waiting were blotted + out in joy. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, boys,” Mrs. Brown nodded at the men. “Tea's ready. What's it + going to be?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine, I think,” said Boone, replying to this somewhat indefinite question + with complete certainty as to the questioner's meaning. “I seen you an' + Murty pokin' your heads up at them clouds, but there ain't nothin' in + them.” A smile spread over his good-looking, dark face. “Bless you, it + couldn't rain today, with Miss Norah comin' home!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe, meself, that Providence 'ud 'ave the 'eart,” said Mrs. + Brown. “Picksher them now, all flyin' round and gettin' ready to start, + and snatchin' a bite of breakfast—” + </p> + <p> + “If I know Master Jim 'twill be no bite he'll snatch!” put in Mick. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all I 'ope is that the 'otel don't poison them,” said Mrs. Brown + darkly. “I on'y stopped in a Melbin' 'otel once, and then I got + pot-o'-mine poisoning, or whatever they call it. I've 'eard they never + wash their saucepans!” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder you get rummy flavours in what you eat down there, if that's + so,” said Dave. “Surprisin' what the digestions of them city people learn + to put up with. Well, I suppose you won't be addin' to their risks by + puttin' up much of a dinner for them to-day, Mrs. Brown.” He grinned + wickedly. + </p> + <p> + “You go on, imperence!” said the lady. “If I let you look into the larder + now (w'ich I won't, along of knowin' you too well), there'd be no gettin' + you out to work to-day. Murty, that turkey weighed five-and-thirty pound!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure he looked every ounce of it,” said Murty. “I niver see his aiqual—he + was a regular Clydesdale of a bird!” + </p> + <p> + “I rose him from the aig meself,” said Mrs. Brown, “and I don't think I + could 'a' brung meself to 'ave 'im killed for anythink less than them + comin' 'ome. As it was, I feel 'e's died a nobil death. An' 'e'll eat + beautiful, you mark my words.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it'll be something to think of the Boss at the head of his table, + investigatin' a Billabong turkey again,” said Boone, putting down his + empty cup. “And as there's nothing more certain than that they'll all be + out at the stables d'reckly after dinner, wantin' to see the 'orses, you + an' I'd better go an' shine 'em up a bit more, Mick.” They tramped out of + the kitchen, while Mrs. Brown waddled to the veranda and cast further + anxious glances at the bank of clouds lying westward. + </p> + <p> + Norah was watching them, too. She was sitting in the corner of the + compartment, as the swift train bore them northward, with her eyes glued + to the country flying past. Just for once the others did not matter to + her; her father, Jim, and Wally, each in his own corner, as they had + travelled so many times in the past, coming back from school. Then she had + had eyes only for them; to-day her soul was hungry for the dear country + she had not seen for so long. It lay bare enough in the early winter—long + stretches of stone-walled paddocks where the red soil showed through the + sparse, native grass; steep, stony hillsides, with little sheep grazing on + them—pygmies, after the great English sheep; oases of irrigation, + with the deep green of lucerne growing rank among weed-fringed + water-channels; and so on and on, past little towns and tiny settlements, + and now and then a stop at some place of more importance. But Norah did + not want the towns; she was homesick for the open country, for the scent + of the gum trees coming drifting in through the open window, for the long, + lonely plains where grazing cattle raised lazy eyes to look at the roaring + engine, or horses flung up nervous heads and went racing away across the + grass—more for the fun of it than from fear. The gum trees called to + her, beckoned to her; she forgot the smooth perfection of the English + landscape as she feasted her eyes on the dear, untidy trees, whose + dangling strips of bark seemed to wave to her in greeting, telling her she + was coming home. They passed a great team of working bullocks in a wagon + loaded with an enormous tree trunk; twenty-four monsters, roan and red and + speckled, with a great pair of polled Angus in the lead; they plodded + along in their own dust, their driver beside them with his immense whip + over his shoulder. Norah pointed them out to the others with a quick + exclamation, and Jim and Wally came to look out from her window. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, what a team!” said Jim. “Well, just at this moment I'd rather + see those fellows than the meet of the Coaching Club in Hyde Park—and + I had a private idea that that was the finest sight in the world!” + </p> + <p> + “Aren't you a jungly animal!” quoth Wally. + </p> + <p> + “Rather—just now,” Jim rejoined. “Some day, I suppose, I'll be glad + to go back to London, and look at it all again. But just now there doesn't + seem to be anything to touch a fellow's own country—and that team of + old sloggers there is just a bit of it. Isn't it, old Nor?” She nodded up + at him; there was no need of words. + </p> + <p> + The morning was drawing towards noon when they came in sight of their own + little station: Cunjee, looking just as they had left it years ago, its + corrugated iron roofs gleaming in the sunlight, its one street green with + feathery pepper trees along each side. The train pulled up, and they all + tumbled out hastily; presumably the express wasted no more time upon + Cunjee than in days gone by, when it was necessary to hustle out of the + carriage, and to race along to the van, lest the whistle should sound and + your trunks be whisked away somewhere down the line. + </p> + <p> + There were many people on the platform, and, wonderful to relate, a band + was playing—Home Sweet Home; a little band, some of its musicians + still in the aprons in which they had rushed from their shop duties; with + instruments few and poor, and with not much training, so that the cornet + was apt to be half a bar ahead of the euphonium. The Lintons had heard + many bands since they had been away, and some had played before the King + himself; but no music had ever gripped at their heartstrings like the + music of the little backblocks band that stood on the gravelled platform + of Cunjee and played to welcome them home. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, as they stood bewildered, there seemed people all round them; + kindly, homely faces, gripping their hands, shouting greetings. Evans, the + manager of Billabong, showed a delighted face for a moment, said, “Luggage + in the van. I'll see to it; don't you bother,” and was gone. Little Dr. + Anderson and his wife, friends of long years, were trying to shake hands + with all four at once. They were the centre of an excited little crowd—and + found it hard to believe that it was really for them. The train roared + away, unnoticed, and the station-master and the porter ran up to add their + voices to the chorus. Somehow they were outside the station, gently + propelled; and there was a great arch of gum leaves, with a huge WELCOME + in red letters, and beneath it were the shire president and his + councillors, and other weighty men, all with speeches ready. But the + speeches did not come to much, for the shire president had lads himself + who had gone to the war, and a lump came in his throat as he looked at the + tall boys from Billabong, whom he had known as little children; so that + half the fine things he had prepared were never said—which did not + matter, since he had it all written out and gave it to the reporter of the + local paper afterwards! Something of speech-making there undoubtedly was, + but no one could have told you much about it—and suddenly it ended + in some one calling for “Three cheers!” which every one gave with a will, + while the band played that they were Jolly Good Fellows—and some of + the band cheered while they played, with very curious results. Then David + Linton tried to speak, and that was a failure also, as far as eloquence + went; but nobody seemed to mind. So, between hand grips and cheers, they + made their way through the welcome of Cunjee to where the big double buggy + of Billabong stood, with three fidgeting brown horses, each held by a + volunteer. Beyond that was the carry-all of the bush; an express wagon, + with a grinning black boy at the horses' heads—and Norah went to him + with outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Billy!” she said. + </p> + <p> + Billy's grin expanded in a perfectly reckless fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Plenty glad!” he stammered—and thereby doubled his usual output of + words. + </p> + <p> + Willing hands were tossing their luggage into the wagon—unfamiliar + luggage to Cunjee, with its jumble of ship labels, Continental hotel + brands, and the names of towns all over England, Ireland and Scotland. + There were battered tin uniform cases of Jim and Wally's, bearing their + rank and regiment in half effaced letters: “Major J. Linton”; “Captain W. + Meadows”—it was hard to realize that they belonged to the two + merry-faced boys, who did not seem much changed from the days when Cunjee + had seen them arrive light-heartedly from school. Mr. Linton ran his eye + over the pile, pronouncing it complete. Then Evans was at his side. + </p> + <p> + “The motor you sent is ready at the garage in the township if you want + it,” he said. “But you wired that I was to bring the buggy.” + </p> + <p> + “I did,” said David Linton, with a slow smile. “I suppose for convenience + sake we'll have to shake down to using the motor. But I drove the old + buggy away from Billabong, and I'll drive home now. Jump in, children.” + </p> + <p> + He gathered up the reins, sitting, erect and spare, with one foot on the + brake, while the brown horses plunged impatiently, and the volunteers + found their work cut out in holding them. Norah was by him, Evans on her + other hand; Jim and Wally “tumbled up” into the back seat, as they had + done so many times. David Linton looked down at the crowd below. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you all again,” he said. “We'll see you soon—it's not + good-bye now, only 'so-long.' Let 'em go, boys.” + </p> + <p> + The volunteers sprang back, thankfully. The browns stood on their hind + legs for a moment, endeavouring to tie themselves in knots; then the whip + spoke, and they came to earth, straightened themselves out with a flying + plunge, and wheeled out of the station yard and up the street. Behind them + cheers broke out afresh, and the band blared once more—which acted + as a further spur to the horses; they were pulling double as the high + buggy flashed along the street, where every house and every shop showed + smiling faces, and handkerchiefs waved in welcome. So they passed through + Cunjee, and wheeled to the right towards the open country—the + country that meant Billabong. + </p> + <p> + There were seventeen miles of road ahead, but the browns made little of + them. They had come into the township the evening before, and had done + nothing since but eat the hotel oats and wish to be out of a close stable + and back in their own free paddocks. They took the hills at a swift, + effortless trot, and on the down slopes broke into a hand-gallop; + light-hearted, but conscious all the time of the hand on the reins, that + was as steel, yet light as a feather upon a tender mouth. They danced + merrily to one side when they met a motor or a hawker's van with flapping + cover; when the buggy rattled over a bridge they plainly regarded the + drumming of their own hoofs as the last trump, and fled wildly for a few + hundred yards, before realizing that nothing was really going to happen to + them. But the miles fled under their swift feet. The trim villas near the + township gave place to scattered farms. These in their turn became further + and further apart, and then they entered a wide belt of timber, ragged and + wind-swept gums, with dense undergrowth of dogwood and bracken fern. The + metalled road gave place to a hard, earthern track, on which the spinning + tyres made no sound; it curved in and out among the trees, which met + overhead and cast upon it a waving pattern of shadows. Grim things had + once happened to Norah in this belt of trees, and the past came back to + her as she looked at its gloomy recesses again. + </p> + <p> + They were all silent. There had been few questions to ask of Evans, a few + to be answered; then speech fled from them and the old spell of the + country held them in its power. Every yard was familiar; every little + bridge, every culvert, every quaint old skeleton tree or dead grey log. + Here Jim's pony had bolted at sight of an Indian hawker, in days long + gone, and had ended by putting his foot into a hole and turning a + somersault, shooting Jim into a well-grown clump of nettles. Here Norah + had dropped her whip when riding alone, and her fractious young mare had + succeeded in pulling away when she dismounted, and had promptly departed + post-haste for home; leaving her wrathful owner to follow as she might. A + passing bullock-wagon had given her a lift, and the somewhat anxious + rescue party, setting out from Billabong, had met its youthful mistress, + bruised from much bumping, but otherwise cheerful, progressing in slow + majesty towards its gates. Here—but the memories were legion, even + to the girl and the two boys. And David Linton's went further back, to the + day when he had first driven Norah's mother over the Billabong track; + little and dainty and merry, while he had been as always, silent, but + unspeakably proud of her. The little mother's grave had long been green, + and the world had turned topsy-turvy since then, but the old track was the + same, and the memory, and the pride, were no less clear. + </p> + <p> + They emerged from the timber at last, and spun across a wide plain, + scattered with clumps of gum-trees. Then another belt of bush, a narrow + one this time; and they came out within view of a great park-like paddock + where Shorthorn bullocks, knee-deep in grass, scarcely moved aside as the + buggy spun past, with the browns pulling hard. The track ran near the + fence, and turned in at a big white gate glistening with new paint. It + stood wide open, and beside it was a man on a splendid bay horse. + </p> + <p> + “There's Murty, and he's on Garryowen,” spoke Jim quickly. “The old + brick!” + </p> + <p> + “I guess if anyone else had wanted to open the gate for you to-day, he'd + have had to fight Murty for the job,” said Evans. “And Garryowen's been + groomed till he turns pale at the sight of a brush, Great horse he's made, + Mr. Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “He's all that,” said his owner, leaning out to view him better, with his + eyes shining. He raised his voice in a shout as they swung in through the + gateway. “Good for you, Murty! Hurroo!” + </p> + <p> + “Hurroo for ye all!” said Murty, and found to his amazement that his voice + was shaky. “Ah, don't shtop, sir, they're all waitin' on ye. I'll be up as + soon as ye.” + </p> + <p> + Norah had tried to speak, and had found that she had no voice at all. She + could only smile at him, tremulously—and be sure the Irishman did + not fail to catch the smile. Then, as they dashed up the paddock, her hand + sought for her father's knee under the rug, in the little gesture that had + been hers from babyhood. The track curved round a grove of great pines, + and suddenly they were within sight of Billabong homestead, red-walled and + red-roofed, nestled in the deep green of its trees. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” said Jim, under his breath. “I thought once I'd never see the + old place again.” + </p> + <p> + They flashed through mighty red gums and box trees, Murty galloping beside + them now. There was a big flag flying proudly on Billabong house—they + found later that the household had unanimously purchased it on the day + they heard that Jim had got his captaincy. The gate of the great sanded + yard stood open, and near it, on a wide gravel sweep, were the dear and + simple and faithful people they loved. Mrs. Brown first, starched and + spotless, her hair greyer than it had been five years before, with Sarah + and Mary beside her—they had married during the war, but nothing had + prevented them from coming back to make Billabong ready. Near them the + storekeeper, Jack Archdale, and his pretty wife, with their elfish small + daughter; and Mick Shanahan and Dave Boone, with the Scotch gardener, + Hogg, and his Chinese colleague—and sworn enemy—Lee Wing. They + were all there, a little welcoming group—but Norah could see them + only through a mist of happy tears. The buggy stopped, and Evans sprang + out over the wheel; she followed him almost as swiftly, running to the old + woman who had been all the mother she had known. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Brownie—Brownie!” + </p> + <p> + “My precious lamb!” said Brownie, and held her tightly. She had no hands + left for Jim and Wally, and they did not seem to mind; they kissed her, + patting her vast shoulders very hard. Then Mrs. Archdale claimed Norah, + and Brownie found herself looking mistily up at David Linton and he was + gripping her hand tightly, the other hand on her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Why, old Brownie!” he said. “Dear old Brownie!” + </p> + <p> + They were shaking hands all round, over and over again. Nobody made any + speeches of welcome—there were only disjointed words, and once or + twice a little sob. Indeed, Brownie only found her tongue when they had + drifted across the yard in a confused group, and had reached the wide + veranda. Then she looked up at Jim and seemed suddenly to realize his + mighty height and breadth. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she said. “Oh! Ain't 'e grown big an' beautiful!” Whereat Wally + howled with laughter, and Jim, scarlet, kissed her again, and told her she + was a shameful old woman. + </p> + <p> + No one on Billabong could have told you much of that day, after the first + wonderful moment of getting home. It was a day of blurred memories. The + new-comers had to wander through the house where every big window stood + open to the sunlight, and every room was gay with flowers; and from every + window it was necessary to look out at the view across the paddocks and + down at the gardens, and to follow the winding course of the creek. The + gong summoned them to dinner in the midst of it, and Brownie's dinner + deserved to be remembered; the mammoth turkey flanked by a ham as + gigantic, and somewhat alarming to war-trained appetites; followed by + every sweet that Brownie could remember as having been a favourite. They + drifted naturally to the stables afterwards, to find their special horses, + apparently little changed by five years, though some old station + favourites were gone, and the men spoke proudly of some new young ones + that were going to be “beggars to go,” or “a caution to jump.” Then they + wandered down to the big lagoon, where the old boat yet lay at the edge of + the reed-fringed water; and on through the home paddock to look at the + little herd of Jerseys that were kept for the use of the house, and some + great bullocks almost ready for the Melbourne market. So they came back to + the homestead, wandering up from the creek through Lee Wing's rows of + vegetables, and came to rest naturally in the kitchen, where they had + afternoon tea with Brownie, who beamed from ear to ear at the sight of Jim + and Wally again sitting on her table. + </p> + <p> + “I used to think of you in them 'orrible trenches, an' wonder wot you got + to eat, an' if it was anything at all,” she said tremulously. + </p> + <p> + “We got something, but it was apt to be queer,” said Jim, laughing. “We + used to think of sitting on the table here, Brownie, and eating hot scones—like + this. May I have another?” + </p> + <p> + “My pore dears!” said Brownie, hastily supplying him with the largest + scone in sight. “Now, Master Wally, my love, ain't you ready for another? + Your appetite's not 'alf wot it used to be. A pikelet, now?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I've had six!” said Wally, defending himself. + </p> + <p> + “An' wot used six pikelets to be to you? A mere fly in the ointment,” said + Brownie, whose similes were always apt to be peculiar. “Just another, + then, my dear. An' I've got your fav'rite sponge cake, Miss Norah—ten + aigs in it!” + </p> + <p> + “Ten!” said Norah faintly. “Hold me, daddy! Doesn't it make you feel + light-headed to think of putting ten eggs in one cake again?” + </p> + <p> + “An' why not?” sniffed Brownie. “Ah, you got bad treatment in that old + England. I never could see why you should go short, an' you all 'elpin' on + the war as 'ard as you could.” Brownie's indifference to national + considerations where her nurselings were concerned was well known, and + nobody argued with her. “Any'ow, the cake's there, an' just you try it—it's + as light as a feather, though I do say it.” + </p> + <p> + Once in the kitchen Norah and the boys went no further. They remained + sitting on the tables, talking, while presently David Linton went away to + his study, and, one by one, Murty and Boone and Mick Shanahan drifted in. + There was so much to tell, so much to ask about; they talked until the + dusk of the short winter afternoon stole into the kitchen, making the red + flames in the stove leap more redly. It was time to dress for tea. They + went round the wide verandas and ran upstairs to their rooms, while old + Brownie stood in the kitchen doorway listening to the merry voices. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't it just 'evinly to 'ear 'em again!” she uttered. + </p> + <p> + “It is that,” said Murty. “We've been quare an' lonesome an' quiet these + five years.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + COLONIAL EXPERIENCES + </h3> + <p> + Cecilia—otherwise Tommy—and Bob Rainham came up to Billabong + three days later, and were met by Jim, who had ridden into Cunjee with + Black Billy, and released the motor from inglorious seclusion in the local + garage. Billy jogged off, leading Garryowen, and Jim watched them half + wistfully for a minute before turning to the car. Motors had their uses + certainly; but no Linton ever dreamed of giving a car the serious and + respectful consideration that naturally belonged to a horse. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, it was a good car; a gift to Norah from an Irishman they had + known and loved; and Jim drove well, having developed the accomplishment + over Flemish roads that were chiefly a succession of shell holes. He took + her quietly up to the station, and walked on to the platform as the train + thundered in. + </p> + <p> + Tommy and Bob were looking eagerly from their carriage window, and hailed + him with delight; they had been alone, for the first time since leaving + England, and had begun to feel that Australia was a large and slightly + populated country, and that they were inconsiderable atoms, suddenly + dumped into its vacant spaces. Jim was like a large and friendly rock, and + Australia immediately became less wide and desolate in their eyes. He + greeted them cheerily and helped Bob to pack their luggage into the car. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I could get you afternoon tea here,” he said; “and I warn you, it + will be bad. Or I could have you home in well under an hour, and you + wouldn't be too late for tea there. Which is it to be, Tommy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—home,” said Tommy. “I don't care a bit about tea; and I want to + see this Billabong of yours. Do let's go, Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “I hoped you wouldn't choose tea here,” said Jim, striding off to the car. + “Bush townships don't run to decent tea places, as a rule; the hotel is + the only chance, and though they can give you a fair dinner, tea always + seems to be a weak spot.” He packed them in, and they moved off down the + winding street. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” Jim said, “that I never went down this street before except + on a horse, or behind one? It seems quite queer and unnatural to be doing + it in a car. I suppose I'll get used to it. Had a good trip up?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, quite,” Tommy told him. “Jim, how few people seem to be living in + Australia!” + </p> + <p> + Jim gave a crack of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you saw a good many in Melbourne, didn't you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. But Melbourne isn't Australia. It's only away down in a wee + little corner.” Tommy flushed a little. “You see, I haven't seen much of + any country except France and the England that's near London,” she said. + “And there isn't much waste space there.” + </p> + <p> + “No, there isn't,” Jim agreed. “I suppose we'll fill up Australia some + day. But the people who come out now seem to have a holy horror of going + into the 'waste spaces,' as you call 'em, Tommy. They want to nestle up to + the towns, and go to picture theatres.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I want to go and find a nice waste space,” said Tommy. “Not too + waste, of course, only with room to look all round. And I'd like it to be + not too far from Norah, 'cause she's very cheering to a lone new-chum. But + don't you go planning to settle in one of those horrid little tin-roofed + towns, Bobby, for I should simply hate it.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, ma'am,” said Bob cheerfully. “We'll get out into the open. I + can always run you about in an aeroplane, if you feel lonesome, provided + we make enough money to buy one, that is. Only new-chums don't always make + heaps of money, do they, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at first, I'm afraid,” Jim said. “The days of picking up fortunes in + Australia seem to be over; anyway, there's no more gold lying about. + Nowadays, you have to put your back into it extremely hard, if you've no + capital to start with; and even if you have, you can't loaf. How did you + get on in Melbourne? I hope you didn't buy a station without consulting + us.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather not,” Bob answered. “We raced round magnificently in your aunt's + car and presented our letters, and had more invitations to sundry meals + than we could possibly accept. Every one was extraordinarily kind to us. + I've offers and promises of advice in whatever district we settle; three + squatters asked me up to their places, to stay awhile and study the + country; and one confiding man—I hadn't a letter to him at all, by + the way, only some one introduced us to him in Scott's—actually + offered me a job as jackeroo on a Queensland run. But he was a lone old + bachelor, and when he heard I had a sister he shied off in terror. I think + he's running yet.” + </p> + <p> + Jim shouted with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “Poor old Tommy!” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, is it not unfair?” said Tommy. “I told Bob I was a mere encumbrance, + but he would bring me.” + </p> + <p> + “You wait until you've settled, and Bob wants some one to run his house, + and then see how much of an encumbrance you are,” rejoined Jim. “Then + you'll suddenly stop being meek and get swelled head.” + </p> + <p> + “And not be half so nice,” interjected Bob. + </p> + <p> + “But so useful!” said Tommy demurely. “Only sometimes I become afraid—for + you seem always to kill a whole sheep or bullock up in the bush, and how I + am to deal with it I do not know!” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds as if you preferred some one to detach an occasional limb from + the sheep as it walked about!” said Jim, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Much easier for me—if not for the sheep,” said Tommy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, don't you worry—the meat problem will get settled somehow,” + Jim told her cheerfully. “All problems straighten out, if you give 'em + time. Now we're nearly home—that's the fence of our home-paddock. + And there are Norah and Wally coming to meet you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—where?” Tommy started up, looking excitedly round the landscape. + “Oh—there she is—the dear! And isn't that a beautiful horse!” + </p> + <p> + “That's Norah's special old pony, Bosun,” said Jim. “We're making her very + unhappy by telling her she's grown too big for him, but he really carries + her like a bird. A habit might look too much on him, but not that astride + kit. You got yours, by the way, Tommy, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes. I look very strange in it,” said Tommy. “And Bob thinks I might + as well have worn out his old uniforms. But I shall never ride like that—as + Norah does.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at Norah, who was coming across the paddock with Wally, at a + hard canter. Her pony was impatient, reefing and plunging in his desire to + gallop; and Norah was sitting him easily, her hands, well down, giving to + the strain on the bit, her slight figure, in coat and breeches, swaying + lightly to each bound. The sunlight rippled on Bosun's glossy, bay coat, + and on the big black horse Wally rode. They pulled up, laughing, at the + gateway, just as the car turned off the road. There were confused and + enthusiastic greetings, and the car dashed on up the track, with an + outrider on each side—both horses strongly resenting this new and + ferocious monster. The years had brought a good deal of sober sense to + Bosun and Monarch, but motors were still unfamiliar objects on Billabong. + Indeed, no car of the size of Norah's Rolls-Royce had ever been seen in + the district, and the men gaped at it open-mouthed as Jim drove it round + to the stable after unloading his passengers. + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, but that's the fine carry-van,” said Murty. “Is that the size they + have them in England, now?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it isn't, Murty—not as a rule,” Jim answered. “This was built + specially for a man who was half an invalid; he used to go for long tours, + and sleep in the car because he hated hotels. So it's a special size. It + used to be jolly useful taking out wounded men in England.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, it would be,” Murty said. “Only—somehow, it don't seem to fit + into Billabong, Mr. Jim!” + </p> + <p> + “So big as that! I say, Murty!” + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, there's room enough for it,” grinned the Irishman. “Only, motors + and Billabong don't go hand in hand—we've always stuck to horses, + haven't we, Mr. Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “We'll do that still,” Jim said. “But it will be useful, all the same, + Murty.” He laughed at the stockman's lugubrious face. “Oh, I know it's + giving you the sort of pain you had when dad had the telephone put on—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'tis the quare onnatural little machine, an' I niver feel anyways + at home with it, Mr. Jim,” Murty defended himself. + </p> + <p> + “There's lots like you, Murty. But you'll admit that when we've got to + send a telegram, it's better to telephone it than make a man ride + thirty-four miles with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is,” said the Irishman doubtfully. “I dunno, though—if + 'twas that black imp of a Billy he'd as well be doing that as propping up + the stable wall an' smokin'!” + </p> + <p> + Jim chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “There's no getting round an Irishman when he makes up his mind,” he said. + “And if you had to catch the eight o'clock train to Melbourne I believe + you'd rather get up at three in the morning and run up the horses to drive + in, than leave here comfortably in the car at seven.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it me to dhrive in it?” demanded Murty, in horror. “Begob, I'd lose me + life before I'd get into one of thim quare, sawed-off things. Give me + something with shafts, Mr. Jim, and a dacint horse in them. More by token, + I would not get up at three in the morning either, but dhrive in aisy an' + comfortable the night before.” He beamed on Jim with so clear a conviction + that he was unanswerable that Jim hadn't the heart to argue further. + Instead he ran the car deftly into a buggy-shed whence an ancient double + buggy had been deposed to make room for her, and then fell to discussing + with Murty the question of building a garage, with a turn-table and pit + for cleaning and repairs. To which Murty gave the eager interest and + attention he would have shown had Jim proposed building anything, even had + it been an Eiffel Tower on the front lawn. + </p> + <p> + Brownie came out through the box-trees to the stables, presently. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Master Jim, afternoon tea's in these ten minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious! I forgot all about tea!” Jim exclaimed. “Thanks awfully, + Brownie. Had your own?” He slipped his arm through hers as they turned + back to the house. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet, my dear,” said Brownie, beaming up at him. That this huge Major, + with four years of war service to his credit, was exactly the same to her + as the little boy she had bathed and dressed in years gone by, was a + matter of nightly thanksgiving in her prayers. “I was just goin' to settle + to it when it come over me that you weren't in—and the visitors + there an' all.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd come and have mine with you in the kitchen if they weren't there,” + Jim told her. “Tea in your kitchen is better than anything else.” He + patted her shoulders as he left her at the door of her domain, going off + with long strides to wash his hands. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't wait for you,” Norah said, as he came into the drawing-room; a + big cheery room, with long windows opening out upon the veranda, and a + conservatory at one end. A fire of red gum logs made it pleasantly warm; + the tea table was drawn near its blaze, and the arm-chairs made a + semicircle round it. “These poor people looked far too hungry to wait—to + say nothing of Wally and myself. How did the car go, Jimmy?” + </p> + <p> + “Splendidly,” Jim said, taking his cup, and retiring from the tea-table + with a scone. “Never ran better; that man in Cunjee knows his job, which I + didn't expect. Are you tired, Tommy?” + </p> + <p> + “Tired?—no,” said Tommy. “I was very hungry, but that is getting + better. And Norah is going to show me Billabong, so I could not possibly + dream of being tired.” + </p> + <p> + “If Norah means to show you all Billabong before dark, she'll have to + hurry,” said Jim lazily. “Don't you let yourself be persuaded into + anything so desperate, Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry; I'll give her graduated doses,” Norah said. “I'll watch + the patient carefully, and see if there is any sign of strength failing. + When do you begin to teach Bob to run a station?” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw anyone in such a hurry,” said Jim. “Why, the poor beggar + hasn't had his tea yet—give him time.” + </p> + <p> + “But we are in a hurry,” said Tommy. “We're burning to learn all about it. + Norah is to teach me the house side, while you instruct Bob how to tell a + merino bullock—is it not?—from an Ayrshire.” Everybody ate + with suspicious haste, and she looked at them shrewdly. “Now, I have said + that all wrong, I feel sure, but it's just as well for you to be prepared + for that. Norah will have a busy time correcting my mistakes.” + </p> + <p> + “You aren't supposed to know anything about cattle and things like that,” + said Norah. “And when it comes to the house side, I don't think you'll + find I can teach you much—if anyone brought up to know French + cooking and French housekeeping has much to learn from a backblocks + Australian, I'll be surprised.” + </p> + <p> + “In fact,” said Mr. Linton, “I should think that the lessons will + generally end in the students of domestic economy fleeing forth upon + horses and studying how to deal with beef—on the hoof. Don't you, + Wally?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” said Wally. “And Brownie will wash up after them, and say, + 'Bless their hearts, why would they stay in a hot kitchen!' And so poor + old Bob will go down the road to ruin!” + </p> + <p> + “It's a jolly prospect,” said Bob placidly. “I think we'll knock a good + deal of fun out of it!” + </p> + <p> + They trooped out in a body presently on their preliminary voyage of + discovery; touring the house itself, with its big rooms and wide + corridors, and the broad balconies that ran round three sides, from which + you looked far across the run—miles of rolling plains, dotted with + trees and clumps of timber, and merging into a far line of low, + scrub-grown hills. Then outside, and to the stables—a massive red + brick pile, creeper-covered, where Monarch and Garryowen, and Bosun, and + the buggy ponies, looked placidly from their loose boxes, and asked for—and + got—apples from Jim's pockets. Tommy even made her way up the steep + ladder to the loft that ran the whole length of the stables—big + enough for the men's yearly dance, but just now crammed with fragrant + oaten hay. She wanted to see everything, and chatted away in her eager, + half-French fashion, like a happy child. + </p> + <p> + “It is so lovely to be here,” she told Norah later, when the keen evening + wind had driven them indoors from a tour of the garden. She was kneeling + on the floor of her bedroom, unpacking her trunk, while Norah perched on + the end of the bed. “You see, I am no longer afraid; and I have always + been afraid since Aunt Margaret died. In Lancaster Gate I was afraid all + the time, especially when I was planning to run away. Then, on the ship, + though every one was so kind, the big, unknown country was like a wall of + Fear ahead; even in Melbourne everything seemed uncertain, doubtful. But + now, quite suddenly, it is all right. I just know we shall get along quite + well.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course you will,” Norah said, laughing down at the earnest face. + “You're the kind of people who must do well, because you are so keen. And + Billabong has adopted you, and we're going to see that you make a success + of things. You're our very own immigrants!” + </p> + <p> + “It's nice to be owned by some one who isn't my step-mother,” said Tommy + happily. “I began to think I was hers, body and soul—when she + appeared on that awful moment in Liverpool. I made sure all hope was over. + Bob says I shouldn't have panicked, but then Bob had not been a toad under + her harrow for two years.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm very glad you panicked, since it sent you straight into our arms,” + said Norah. “If we had met you in an ordinary, stodgy way—you and + Bob presenting your letter of introduction, and we saying 'How do you do?' + politely—it would have taken us ages to get to know you properly. + And as it was, we jumped into being friends. You did look such a poor, + hunted little soul as you came dodging across that street!” + </p> + <p> + “And you took me on trust, when, for all you know, the police might have + been after me,” said Tommy. “Well, we won't forget; not that I suppose Bob + and I will ever be able to pay you back.” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious, we don't want paying back!” exclaimed Norah, wrinkling her + nose disgustedly. “Don't talk such utter nonsense, Tommy Rainham. And just + hurry up and unpack, because tea will be ready at half-past six.” + </p> + <p> + “My goodness!” exclaimed the English girl, to whom dinner at half-past + seven was a custom of life not lightly to be altered. “And I haven't half + unpacked, and oh, where is my blue frock? I don't believe I've brought + it.” She sought despairingly in the trunk. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you have—I hung it up for you in the wardrobe ages ago,” said + Norah. “And it doesn't matter if you don't finish before tea. There's lots + of time ahead. However, I certainly won't be dressed if I don't hurry, + because I've to see Brownie first, and then sew on a button for Jim. + You'll find me next door when you're ready.” Tommy heard her go, singing + downstairs, and she sighed happily. This, for the first time for two + years, was a real home. + </p> + <p> + The education of the new-chums began next morning, and was carried out + thoroughly, since Mr. Linton did not believe in showing their immigrants + only the pleasanter side of Australian life. Bob was given a few days of + riding round the run, spying out the land, and learning something about + cattle and their handling as he rode. Luckily for him, he was a good + horseman. The stockmen, always on the alert to “pick holes” in a new-chum, + had little fault to find with his easy seat and hands, and approved of the + way in which he waited for no one's help in saddling up or letting go his + horse; a point which always tells with the man of the bush. + </p> + <p> + “We've had thim on this run,” said Murty, “as wanted their horses led + gently up to thim, and then they climb into the saddle like a lady. And + when they'd come home, all they'd be lookin' for 'ud be some one to casht + their reins to, the way they cud strowl off to their tay. Isn't that so, + Mick?” + </p> + <p> + “Yairs,” said Mick. He was riding an unbroken three-year-old, and had no + time for conversation. + </p> + <p> + After a few days of “gentle exercise,” Bob found himself put on to work. + He learned something of cutting out and mustering, both in cleared country + and in scrub; helped bring home young cattle to brand, and studied at + first hand the peculiar evilness of a scrub cow when separated from her + calf. They gave him jobs for himself, which he accomplished fairly well, + aided by a stock horse of superhuman intelligence, which naturally knew + far more of the work than its rider could hope to do. Bob confided to + Tommy that never had he felt so complete a fool as when he rode forth for + the first time to cut out a bullock alone under the eyes of the experts. + </p> + <p> + “Luckily, the old mare did all the work,” he said. “But I knew less about + it than I did the first time I went up alone at the flying school!” + </p> + <p> + His teaching went on all the time. Mr. Linton and Jim were tireless in + pointing out the points of cattle, and the variations in the value of feed + on the different parts of the run, with all the details of bush lore; and + the airman's eyes, trained to observe, and backed by keen desire to learn, + picked up and retained knowledge quickly. Billabong was, in the main, a + cattle run, but Mr. Linton kept as well a flock of high class sheep, with + the usual small mob for killing for station use, and through these a + certain amount of sheep knowledge was imparted to the new-chum. To their + surprise, for all his instructors were heart and soul for cattle, Bob + showed a distinct leaning towards mutton. + </p> + <p> + “They're easier to understand, I think,” he said. “Possibly it's because + they're not as intelligent as cattle, and I don't think I am, either!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know something about bullocks, but these woolly objects have + always been beyond me,” said Jim. “Necessary evils, but I can't stand + them. I used to think there was nothing more hopeless than an old merino + ewe, until I met a battery mule—he's a shade worse!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till you've worked with a camel in a bad temper, Mr. Jim,” said Dave + Boone darkly; he had put in a weary time in Egypt. “For downright + wickedness them snake-headed beggars is the fair limit!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I've heard so,” said Jim. “Anyhow, we haven't added mules and camels + to our worries in Victoria yet; sheep are bad enough for me. Norah says + turkey hens are worse, and she's certainly tried both; there isn't much + about the run young Norah doesn't know. But you aren't going to make a + living out of turkeys.” + </p> + <p> + “No—Tommy can run them as a side line,” said Bob. “I fancy sheep + will give me all I want in the way of worry.” + </p> + <p> + “And you really think you'll go in for sheep, old man?” asked Jim with + pity. + </p> + <p> + Bob set his lips obstinately. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think anything yet,” he said. “I don't know enough. Wait until + I've learned a bit more—if you're not sick of teaching such an + idiot.” + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, ye're no ijit,” said Murty under his breath. + </p> + <p> + Education developed as the weeks went on. Wally had gone to Queensland, to + visit married brothers who were all the “people” he possessed; and Jim, + bereft of his chum, threw himself energetically into the training of the + substitute. Bob learned to slaughter a bullock and kill a sheep—being + instructed that the job in winter was not a circumstance to what it would + be in summer, when flies would abound. He never pretended to like this + branch of learning, but stuck to it doggedly, since it was explained to + him that the man who could not be his own butcher in the bush was apt to + go hungry, and that not one hired hand in twenty could be trusted to kill. + </p> + <p> + More to Bob's taste were the boundary riding expeditions made with Jim to + the furthest corners of the run; taking a pack horse with tucker and + blankets, and camping in ancient huts, of which the sole furniture was + rough sacking bunks, a big fireplace, and empty kerosene cases for seats + and tables. It was unfortunate, from the point of view of Bob's + instruction, that the frantic zeal of Murty and the men to have everything + in order for “the Boss” had left no yard of the Billabong boundary + unvisited not a month before. Still, winter gales were always apt to bring + down a tree or two across the wires, laying a few panels flat; the creeks, + too, were all in flood, and where a wire fence crossed one, floating + brushwood often damaged the barrier, or a landslip in a water-worn bank + might carry away a post. So Jim and his pupil found enough occupation to + make their trips worth while; and Bob learned to sink post holes, to ram a + post home beyond the possibility of moving, and to strain a wire fence + scientifically. He was not a novice with an axe, though Jim's mighty + chopping made him feel a child; still, when it was necessary to cut away a + fallen tree, he could do his share manfully. His hands blistered and grew + horny callouses, even as his muscles toughened and his shoulders widened; + and all the time the appeal of the wide, free country called to his heart + and drew him closer and closer to his new life. + </p> + <p> + “But he's too comfortable, you know,” David Linton said to Jim one night. + “He's shaping as well as anyone could expect; but he won't always have + Billabong at his back.” + </p> + <p> + Jim nodded wisely. + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he said. “Been thinking of that. If you can spare me for a bit + we'll go over and lend ourselves as handy men to old Joe Howard.” + </p> + <p> + His father whistled. + </p> + <p> + “He'll make you toe the mark,” he said, laughing. “He won't have you there + as gentlemen boarders, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't want him to,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + So it came about that early on Monday morning Jim and Bob fixed swags more + or less scientifically to their saddles—Jim made his disciple + unstrap his three times before he consented to pass it—and rode away + from Billabong, amidst derisive good wishes from Norah and Tommy, who + kindly promised to feed them up on their return, prophesying that they + would certainly need it. They took a westerly direction across country, + and after two or three hours' riding came upon a small farm nestling at + the foot of a low range of hills. + </p> + <p> + “That's old Howard's,” Jim said. “And there's the old chap himself, fixing + up his windmill. You wait a minute, Bob; I'll go over and see him.” + </p> + <p> + He gave Bob his bridle, and went across a small paddock near the house. + Howard, a hard-looking old man with a long, grey beard, was wrestling with + a home-made windmill—a queer erection, mainly composed of rough + spars with sails made from old wheat-sacks. He clambered to the ground as + Jim approached, and greeted him civilly. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you'd have forgotten me, Mr. Howard,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Too like your dad—an', anyhow, I know the horses,” was the laconic + answer. “So you're back. Like Australia better'n fightin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather!” said Jim. “Fighting's a poor game, I think, when you hardly ever + see the other fellow. Want any hands, Mr. Howard?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” The old man shook his head. “They want too much money nowadays, an' + they're too darned partickler about their tucker. Meat three times a day, + whether you've killed it or not. An' puddin'. Cock 'em up with puddin'—a + fat lot of it I ever saw where I was raised. An' off to the township on + Saturday afternoon, an' lucky if they get back in time for milkin' nex' + mornin'. No—the workin' man ain't what 'e was, an' the new kind'll + make precious little of Australia!” + </p> + <p> + “That's about right, I'm afraid,” said Jim, listening sympathetically to + this oration. “Well, will you take me and my friend as hands for a few + weeks, Mr. Howard?” + </p> + <p> + “You!” The old man stared at him. “Ain't 'ad a quarrel with yer dad, 'ave + yer? You take my tip, if yer 'ave—go back and make it up. Not many + men in this districk like yer dad.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, jolly well,” said Jim, laughing. “No—but my friend's a + new-chum, and I want to show him something of work on a place like yours. + We've been breaking him in on Billabong, but he'll have to take a small + place for himself, if he settles, and he'd better see what it's like.” + </p> + <p> + The old man shook his head doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “English officer, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno,” said Howard. “Too much of the fine gent about that sort, Mr. + Jim. I dunno 'ow I'd get down to orderin' the pair of yous about. An' I + ain't got no 'comodation for yous; an' the tucker's not what yous 'ave bin + used ter.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't let any of that worry you,” said Jim cheerfully. “He isn't a + bit of a fine gent, really, and we'll tackle any job that's going. As for + accommodation, we've brought our blankets, and, in case you were short of + tucker, we've a big piece of corned beef and some bread. I wish you'd try + it, Mr. Howard; we don't want pay, and we'll do no end of work. Murty + reckons you won't be sorry if you take on Captain Rainham.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Murty says that, does 'e?” asked the old man, visibly cheered. “Well, + Murty ain't the man to barrack for a useless new-chum.” + </p> + <p> + “Great Scott, do you think I am?” demanded Jim, laughing. “Or my father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yous cert'nly didn't ought to be,” agreed Howard. “All the same”—he + pushed his hat back from his worried brow—“I dunno as I quite like + it. If I take on a chap I like 'im to step quick an' lively when I tell + him anything I want done; an' I don't make no guests of 'em either. They + got to do their own cookin', an' keep things clean an' tidy, too.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll take our share,” said Jim. “As for stepping quick and lively, we've + both been trained to that pretty thoroughly during the last few years. If + you're worse than some of the Sergeant-majors I met when I was training, + I'll eat my hat.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm told they're 'ard,” said Howard. “Well, I s'pose I'd better take yous + on, though it's a queer day when the son of Linton of Billabong comes + askin' old Joe Howard for a job. But, I say”—and anguish again + settled on his brow—“wot am I to call yous? I can't order you about + as Mr. Jim. It wouldn't seem to come natural.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, call us any old thing,” said Jim, laughing. + </p> + <p> + The old man pondered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll call yous Major an' Captin,” he declared, at length. “That'll + sound like a pair of workin' bullocks, an' I'll feel more at 'ome.” + </p> + <p> + “Right-o,” said Jim, choking slightly. “Where shall we put our horses?” + </p> + <p> + “Put 'em in the little paddock over there, an' stick yer saddles in the + shed,” said his employer. “An' then bring in yer beef, an' we'll 'ave a + bit o' dinner. I ain't killed for a fortnight.” + </p> + <p> + Then began for Bob Rainham one of the most strenuous fortnights of his + existence. Once having agreed to employ them, old Joe speedily became + reconciled to the prospect of cheap labour, and worked his willing guests + with a devouring energy. Before dawn had reddened the eastern sky a shout + of “Hi, Captin! Time the cow was in!” drove him from his blankets, to + search in the darkness of a scrub-covered paddock for a cow, who + apparently loved a game of hide-and-seek, and to drive her in and milk her + by the fitful light of a hurricane lantern. Then came the usual round of + morning duties; chopping wood, feeding pigs, cleaning out sheds and + outhouses, before the one-time airman had time to think of breakfast. By + the time he came in Howard and Jim had generally finished and gone out—the + old man took a sly delight in keeping “Major” away from “Captin”—and + after cooking his meal, it was his job to wash up and to clean out the + kitchen, over which old Joe proved unexpectedly critical. Then came a + varied choice of tasks to tackle to while away the day. Sometimes he would + be sent to scrub cutting, which he liked best, particularly as Jim was + kept at it always; sometimes he slashed mightily at a blackberry-infested + paddock, where the brambles would have daunted anyone less stout of heart—or + less ignorant. Then came lessons in ploughing on a dry hillside; he + managed badly at first, and came in for a good deal of the rough side of + old Joe's tongue before he learned to keep to anything approaching a + straight line. Ploughing, Bob reflected, was clearly an art which needed + long apprenticeship before you learned to appreciate it, and he developed + a new comprehension and sympathy for the ploughman described by Gray as + “homeward plodding his weary way.” He also wondered if Gray's ploughman + had to milk and get his own tea after he got home. + </p> + <p> + Other relaxations of the bush were open to him. Old Joe had a paddock, + once a swamp, which he had drained; it was free of water, but abounded in + tussocks and sword grass which “Captin” was detailed to grub out whenever + no duty more pressing awaited him. And sword grass is a fearsome + vegetable, clinging of root and so tough of stem that, if handled + unwarily, it can cut a finger almost to the bone; wherefore the + unfortunate “Captin” hated it with a mighty hatred, and preferred any + other branch of his education. There were stones to pick up and pile in + cairns; red stones, half buried in grass and tussocks, and weighing + anything from a pound to half a hundredweight. He scarred his hands and + broke his fingernails to pieces over them, but, on the whole, considered + it not a bad employment, except when old Joe took it into his head to + perch on the fence and spur him on to greater efforts by disparaging + remarks about England. Whatever his work, there was never any certainty + that old Joe would not appear, to sit down, light his short, black pipe, + and make caustic remarks about his methods or his country—or both. + Bob took it all with a grin. He was a cheerful soul. + </p> + <p> + They used to meet for dinner—dinner consisting of corned beef and + potatoes until the corned beef ran out; then it became potatoes and bread + and jam for some days, until Joe amazed them by saddling an ancient grey + mare and riding into Cunjee, returning with more corned beef—and + more jam. He boiled the beef in a kerosene tin, and Bob thought he had + never tasted anything better. Appetites did not need pampering on Howard's + Farm. Work in the evening went on until there was barely light enough to + get home and find the cow; it was generally quite dark by the time milking + was finished, and Bob would come in with his bucket to find Jim just in, + and lighting the fire—“Major,” not being the milking hand, worked in + the paddocks a little longer. Tea required little preparation, since the + only menu that occurred to old Joe seemed to be bread and jam. Jim, being + a masterful soul, occasionally took the matter into his own hands and, + aided by Bob, made “flap-jacks” in the frying-pan; they might have been + indigestible for delicately-constituted people, but at least they had the + merit of being hot and comforting on a biting winter night. Old Joe + growled under his breath at the “softness” of people who required “cocking + up with fal-lals.” But he ate the flap-jacks. + </p> + <p> + After tea the “hands” divided the duties of the evening; taking it in + turn, one to wash up, while the other “set” bread. Joe's only baking + implement was a camp-oven, which resembles a large saucepan on three legs; + it could hold just enough for a day's supply, so that it was necessary to + set bread every night, and bake every morning. This wounded their + employer, who never failed to tell them, with some bitterness, that when + alone he had to bake only twice a week. However, he knew all that there + was to know about camp-oven baking, and taught them the art thoroughly, as + well as that of making yeast from potatoes. “That's an extry,” he remarked + thoughtfully, “but I won't charge yer for it, yous 'avin' bin soldiers!” + </p> + <p> + With the bread set, and rising pleasantly before the fire, under a bit of + old blanket, and the kitchen tidy, a period of rest ensued, when “Major” + and “Captin” were free to draw up chairs—seated with greenhide with + the hair left on, and very comfortable—and smoke their pipes. This + was the only time of the day when old Joe unbent. At first silent, he + would presently shift his pipe to the corner of his mouth and spin them + yarns of the early days, told with a queer, dry humour that kept his + hearers in a simmer of laughter. It was always a matter of regret to poor + “Captin” that he used to be the one to end the telling, since no story on + earth could keep him, after a while, from nodding off to sleep. He would + drag himself away to his blankets in the next room, hearing, as sleep + fully descended upon him, the droning voice still entertaining Jim—whose + powers of keeping awake seemed more than human! + </p> + <p> + Saturday brought no slackening of work. Whatever his previous hired men + had done, old Joe was evidently determined that his present + “parlour-boarders” should not abate their efforts, and even kept them a + little later than usual in the paddocks, remarking that “ter-morrer bein' + Sunday, yous might as well cut a bit more scrub.” The next morning broke + fine and clear, and he looked at them a little doubtfully after breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there ain't no work doin' on Sunday, I reckon. I can manage the ol' + keow to-night, if yous want to go home.” + </p> + <p> + The guests looked at each other doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “What do you say, Bob? Shall we ride over?” + </p> + <p> + Bob pondered. + </p> + <p> + “All one to me, o' course,” said Joe, getting up and stumping out. He + paused at the door. “On'y if yous mean ter stick on 'ere a bit you'll find + comin' back a bit 'ard, onced yous see Billabong.” + </p> + <p> + “Just what I was thinking,” said Bob, as the old man disappeared. “I'm not + going, Jim; I know jolly well I'd hate to come back after—er—fleshpotting + at your place. But look here, old chap—why don't you go home and + stay there? You've done quite enough of this, especially as you've no + earthly need to do it at all. You go home, and I'll stay out my + fortnight.” + </p> + <p> + “What, leave you here alone?” queried Jim. “Not much, Bobby.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not? I've Joseph, and we'd become bosom friends. And your father + must think it ridiculous for you to be kept over here, slaving—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry your old head about dad,” said Jim cheerfully. “It's a + slack time, and he doesn't need me, and he's perfectly satisfied at my + being here. Bless you, it's no harm for me to get a bit of this sort of + life.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll never have to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “No one can tell that,” said Jim. “The bottom has dropped out of land in + other countries, and it may happen here. Besides, if you've got to employ + labour it's just as well to know from experience what's a fair thing to + expect from a man as a day's work. For which reason, I have desired our + friend Joseph to take me off scrub-duty, which I feel I know pretty well, + and to detail me for assorted fatigues, like yours, next week. And anyhow, + my son, having brought you to this savage place, I'm not going to leave + you. Finally, we couldn't go anywhere, because this is the day that we + must wash.” + </p> + <p> + “I have washed!” said Bob indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean your person, Bobby, but your clothes. The laundress doesn't + call out here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Bob, and grinned. “Then I'd better put on a kettle.” + </p> + <p> + So they washed, very cheerfully, taking turns in the one bucket, which was + all Joe could offer as laundry equipment. He had an iron, but after brief + consultation, “Major” and “Captin” decided that to iron working shirts + would be merely painting the lily. Old Joe watched them with a twinkle, + saying nothing. But a spirit of festivity and magnificence must have + entered into him, for when the washermen went for a walk, after disposing + their damp raiment upon bushes, he entered the kitchen hurriedly and dived + for the flour-bag; and later, they found unwonted additions to the corned + beef and potatoes—the said additions being no less than boiled + onions and a jam tart. + </p> + <p> + The week that followed was a repetition of the first, save for a day of + such rain that even old Joe had to admit that work in the paddocks was out + of the question. He consoled himself by making them whitewash the kitchen. + Large masses of soot fell down into the fireplace throughout the day, + seriously interfering with cooking operations, which suggested to Joe that + “Captin” might acquire yet another art—that of bush chimney sweeping—which + he accomplished next day, under direction, by the simple process of + tugging a great bunch of tea-tree up and down the flue. “Better'n all them + brushes they 'ave in towns,” said Joe, watching his blackened assistant + with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we're off to-morrow, Mr. Howard,” said Jim on Saturday night. They + were seated round the fire, smoking. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose so. Didn't think yous'd stick it out as long,” the old man said. + </p> + <p> + “We've had a very good time,” said Bob; and was astonished to find himself + speaking truthfully. “Jolly good of you to have me; I know a new-chum + isn't much use.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldn't say as how you weren't,” said old Joe deliberately. “I + ain't strong on new-chums, meself—some of them immy-grants they send + out are a fair cow to handle; but I will say, Captin, you ain't got no + frills, nor you don't mind puttin' your back into a job. I worked you + pretty 'ard, too.” He chuckled deeply. + </p> + <p> + “Did you?” asked Bob—and chuckled in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I didn't see no points in spoon-feedin' you. If a man's goin' on + the land he may as well know wot 'e's likely to strike. There's lots'll + tell you you won't strike anythink 'arder than ol' Joe—an' p'raps + you won't,” he added. “Any'ow, yous asked fer work, an' it was up ter me + ter see that yous got it. But don't go imaginin' you've learned all there + is ter know about farmin' yet.” + </p> + <p> + “If there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that,” said Bob a trifle + grimly. + </p> + <p> + “That's right. I ain't got much of a farm, an' any'ow, it's winter. I on'y + showed yous a few of the odd jobs—an' wot it is to 'ave to batch fer + yerself, not comin' in like a lord to Billabong ter see wot Mrs. Brown's + been cookin' for yous. Nothin' like a bit o' batchin' ter teach a cove. + An' you mind, Captin—if you start anywhere on yer own, you batch + decent; keep things clean an' don't get into the way o' livin' just + any'ow. I ain't much, nor the meenoo ain't excitin'; but things is clean.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—I have a sister,” said Bob. “So I'm in luck. But I guess I + know a bit more about her side of the job now.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's no bad thing for Tommy,” said Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Oo's 'e?” demanded Joe. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—that's his sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Rum names gals gets nowadays,” said Joe, pondering. “Not on'y gels, + neither. 'S a chap on top of the 'ill 'as a new baby, an' 'e's called it + 'Aig Wipers Jellicoe. 'Course, 'e did go to the war, but 'e ain't got no + need ter rub it into the poor kid like that.” He paused to ram the tobacco + into the bowl of his pipe with a horny thumb. “One thing—I'd like to + pay you chaps somethin'. Never 'ad blokes workin' fer me fer nothin', an' + I don't much care about it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thanks, Mr. Howard,” said Jim. “We came for colonial experience.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” said old Joe, and permitted himself the ghost of a grin. “Well, I + ain't goin' ter fight yous about it, an' I'm not worryin' a mighty lot + about you, Major, 'cause your little bit o' country's ready made for you. + But Captin's different. We won't 'ave no fight about cash, Captin; but + that last year's calf of the ol' keow's goin' ter be a pretty decent + steer, an' when you gets yer farm 'e's goin' on it as yer first bit o' + stock. An' 'e'll get the best o' my grass till 'e goes.” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish!” said Bob, much embarrassed. “Awfully good of you, Mr. Howard, + but that wasn't the agreement. I know I'm not worth wages yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ain't you?” Joe asked. “Well, there's two opinions about that. + Any'ow, 'e's yours, an' I've christened 'im Captin, so there ain't no way + out of it.” He rose, cutting short further protests. “Too much bloomin' + argument about this camp; I'm off ter bed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + ON INFLUENZA AND FURNITURE + </h3> + <p> + “So you think he'll do, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I certainly do,” Jim answered. He was sitting with his father in the + smoking-room at Billabong, his long legs outstretched before the fire, and + his great form half-concealed in the depths of an enormous leather + armchair. “Of course he'll want guidance; you couldn't expect him to know + much about stock yet, though he's certainly picked up a good bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—so it seems. His great point is his quick eye and his keenness. + I haven't found him forget much.” + </p> + <p> + “No, and he's awfully ashamed if he does. He's a tiger for work, and very + quick at picking up the way to tackle any new job. That was one of the + things that pleased old Joe about him. I fancy the old chap had suffered + at the hands of other new-chums who reckoned they could teach him how to + do his work. 'Captin ain't orffered me not one bit of advice,' he told me + with relief.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Linton laughed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I've had them here like that,” he said. “Full of sublime enthusiasm + for reforming Australia and all her ways. I don't say we don't need it, + either, but not from a new-chum in his first five minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “Not much,” agreed Jim. “Well, there's nothing of that sort about old Bob. + He just hoes in at anything that's going, and doesn't talk about it. Joe + says he must have been reared sensible. He's all right, dad. I've had a + lot of men through my hands in the last few years, and you learn to size + 'em up pretty quickly.” + </p> + <p> + David Linton nodded, looking at his big son. Sometimes he had a pang of + regret for Jim's lost boyhood, swallowed up in war. Then, when he was + privileged to behold him rough-and-tumbling with Wally, singing idiotic + choruses with Norah and Tommy, or making himself into what little Babs + Archdale ecstatically called “my bucking donkey,” it was borne in upon him + that there still was plenty of the boy left in Jim—and that there + always would be. Nevertheless, he had great confidence in his judgment; + and in this instance it happened to coincide with his own. + </p> + <p> + The door opened, and Bob Rainham came in, hesitating as he caught sight of + the father and son. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Bob,” Mr. Linton said. “I was just wishing you would turn up. + We've been talking about you. I understand you've made up your mind to get + a place of your own.” + </p> + <p> + “If you don't think I'm insane to tackle it, sir,” Bob answered. “Of + course, I know I'm awfully ignorant. But I thought I could probably get + hold of a good man, and if I can find a place anywhere in this district, + Jim says he'll keep an eye on me. Between the two, I oughtn't to make very + hopeless mistakes. And I might as well have my money invested.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. I think you're wise,” the squatter answered. “As it happens, I + was in Cunjee yesterday, talking to an agent, and I heard of a little + place that might suit you very well—just about the price you ought + to pay, and the land's not bad. There's a decent cottage on it—you + and Tommy could be very comfortable there. It's four miles from here, so + we should feel you hadn't got away from us.” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds jolly,” said Bob. “I'd be awfully glad to think Tommy was so + near to Norah. Is it sheep country, Mr. Linton?” + </p> + <p> + “So it's to be sheep, is it? Well, I'd advise you to put some young cattle + on to some scrub country at the back, but you could certainly run sheep on + the cleared paddocks,” Mr. Linton answered. “We could drive over and look + at it to-morrow, if you like. The terms are easy; you'd have money over to + stock it, or nearly so. And there's plenty to be done in improving the + place, if you should buy it; you could easily add a good deal to its + value.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I'd like,” Bob answered eagerly. “It doesn't take a whole lot + of brains to dig drains and cut scrub. I could be doing that while the + sheep turn into wool and mutton!” + </p> + <p> + “So you could; though there's a bit more to be done to sheep than just to + watch them turn,” said the squatter, with a twinkle. “I fancy Tommy will + be pleased if you get this place.” + </p> + <p> + “Tommy's mad keen to start,” Bob said. “She says Norah has taught her more + than she ever dreamed that her head could contain, and she wants to work + it all off on me. I think she has visions of making me kill a bullock, so + that she can demonstrate all she knows about corning and spicing and + salting beef. I mentioned it would take two of us quite a little while to + work through a whole bullock, but she evidently didn't think much of the + objection.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll see you get none fat enough to kill,” grinned Jim. “Norah says + Tommy's a great pupil, dad.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they have worked as if they were possessed,” Mr. Linton answered. “I + never saw such painfully busy people. But Norah tells me she has had very + little to teach Tommy—in fact, I think the teaching has been mutual, + and they've simply swapped French and Australian dodges. At all events + they and Brownie have lived in each other's pockets, and they all seem + very content.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you all talking business, or may we come in?” demanded a cheery + voice; and Norah peeped in, with Tommy dimly visible in the background. + </p> + <p> + “Come in—'twas yourselves we were talking about,” Jim said, rising + slowly from the armchair; a process which, Norah was accustomed to say, he + accomplished yard by yard. “Sit here, Tommy, and let's hear your views on + Australia!” + </p> + <p> + Tommy shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Too soon to ask me—and I've only seen Billabong,” she said, + laughing. “Wait until I've kept house for Bob for a while, and faced life + without nice soft buffers like Norah and Mrs. Brown!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a nice soft buffer!” said Norah indignantly. “Do I look like one, + Jimmy?” + </p> + <p> + “Brownie certainly fits the description better,” Jim said. “Never mind, + old girl, you'll probably grow into one. We'd be awfully proud of you if + you got really fat, Norah.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I hope you'll never have cause for pride,” retorted his sister. “I + couldn't ride Bosun if I did, and that would be too awful to think about. + Oh, and Tommy's making a great stock-rider, Bob. She declared she could + never ride astride, but she's perceiving the error of her ways.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought I could never stick on without the moral support of the + pommels,” said Tommy. “When you arrange yourself among pommels and horns + and things on a side-saddle, there seems no real reason why you should + ever come off, except of your own free will. But a man's saddle doesn't + offer any encouragement to a poor scared new-chum. I pictured myself + sliding off it whenever the horse side-stepped. However, somehow, it + doesn't happen.” + </p> + <p> + “And what happens when your steed slews around after a bullock?” asked + Jim. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I hardly know,” said Tommy modestly. “I generally shut my eyes, + and hold on to the front of the saddle. After a while I open them, and + find, to my astonishment, that nothing has occurred, and I'm still there. + Then we sail along after Norah, and I hold up my head proudly and look as + if that were really the way I have always handled cattle. And she isn't a + bit taken in. It's dreadfully difficult to impress Norah.” + </p> + <p> + Every one laughed, and looked at the new-chum affectionately. This small + English girl, so ready to laugh at her own mistakes, had twined herself + wonderfully about their hearts. Even Brownie, jealous to the point of + prickliness for her adored Norah, and at first inclined to turn up a + scornful nose at “Miss Tommy's” pink and white daintiness, had been forced + to admit that she “could 'andle things like a workman.” And that was high + praise from Brownie. + </p> + <p> + The telephone bell whirred in the hall, and Jim went out to answer it. In + a few minutes they heard his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Norah, just come here a moment.” He came back presently, leaving Norah at + the telephone. + </p> + <p> + “It's Dr. Anderson,” he said. “They're in trouble in Cunjee—there's + a pretty bad outbreak of influenza. Some returned men came up with it, and + now it's spreading everywhere, Anderson says. Mrs. Anderson has been + nursing in the hospital, but now two of her own kiddies have got it, so + she has had to go home, and they're awfully shorthanded. Nurses seem to be + scarce everywhere; they could only get one from Melbourne, and she's badly + overworked.” + </p> + <p> + “Norah will go, I suppose,” said David Linton, with a half-sigh—the + sigh of a man who has looked forward to peace and security, and finds it + again slipping from his grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I'm sure she will. They have a certain number of volunteers, not + nearly enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going,” said Tommy, and David Linton nodded at her kindly. + </p> + <p> + “What about you and me, Jim?” Bob asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Anderson says they have a number of men volunteers. Such a lot of + returned fellows about with nothing to do yet. I told him to count on us + for anything he wanted, but the need seems chiefly for women.” + </p> + <p> + “Must they go to-night? It's pretty late,” said Mr. Linton. + </p> + <p> + “No, not to-night,” Norah answered, entering. “It would be eight o'clock + before I could get in, and Dr. Anderson says I'm to get a good sleep and + come in early in the morning. Tommy, darling, will you mind if I leave you + for a few days?” + </p> + <p> + “Horribly,” said Tommy drily. “It would be unpardonably rude for a + hostess. So I 'm coming too.” + </p> + <p> + Norah laughed down at her. + </p> + <p> + “Somehow, I thought you would,” she said. “Well, Jimmy, you'll take us in + after breakfast, won't you? We'll have it early.” She perched on the arm + of her father's chair, letting her fingers rest for a moment on his + close-cropped grey hair. “And I've never asked you if I could go, daddy.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said David Linton; “you haven't.” He put his arm gently round her. + </p> + <p> + “But then I knew that you'd kick me out if I didn't. So that simplifies + matters. You'll take care of yourself while I'm away, won't you, dad? No + wild rides by yourself into the ranges, or anything of that sort?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not,” said her father. “I'll sit quietly at home, and let + Brownie give me nourishment at short intervals.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing she'd like better.” Norah laughed. “I don't believe Brownie will + really feel that she owns us again until one of us is considerate enough + to fall ill and give her a real chance of nursing and feeding us. Then the + only thing to do is to forget you ever had a will of your own, and just to + open your mouth and be fed like a young magpie, and Brownie's perfectly + happy.” + </p> + <p> + “She won't be happy when she hears of this new plan,” Mr. Linton said. + “Poor old soul, I'm sorry she should have any worry, when she has just got + you home.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I'm sorry,” Norah answered. “But it can't be helped. I'll go and + talk to her now, and arrange things—early breakfast among them.” + </p> + <p> + “You might make it a shade earlier than you meant to, while you're at it, + Nor,” Jim observed. “Then we could turn off the track as we go in + to-morrow to let Tommy have a look at the place that has been offered Bob—you + know that place of Henderson's, off the main road. Bob can go over the + land with us when we're coming back. But once you and Tommy get swallowed + up in Cunjee, there's no knowing when we could get you out; and Tommy + ought to inspect the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'd love to,” said Tommy enthusiastically. “No mere man can be + trusted to buy a house.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't go to look at it with any large ideas of up-to-date improvements + floating in your mind,” Jim warned her. “It's sure to be pretty primitive, + and probably there isn't even a bathroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry, Tommy; we'll build you one,” said Mr. Linton. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going to worry about anything; there are always washtubs,” spoke + Tommy cheerfully—“and thank you, all the same, Mr. Linton. I didn't + expect much when I came out to Australia, but I'm getting so much more + than I expected that I'm in a state of bewilderment all the time. Someday + I feel that I shall come down with a bump, and I shall be thankful if it's + only over a bathroom.” + </p> + <p> + “Distressing picture of the valiant pioneer looking for discomforts and + failing to find them,” said Bob, laughing. “It's so difficult to feel + really pioneerish in a place where there are taps, and electric light, and + motors, and no one appears to wear a red shirt, like every Australian + bushman I ever saw on the stage.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you bring any out with you?” demanded Norah wickedly. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't. But honest, it was only because I had so many khaki ones, and I + thought they'd do. Otherwise I'd certainly have thought that scarlet + shirts were part of the ordinary outfit for the Colonies. And if you + believed all the things they tell you in outfitting shops, you would bring + a gorgeous assortment. We'd have even arrived here with tinware. It was + lucky I knew some Australians—they delicately hinted that you really + had a shop or two in the principal cities.” + </p> + <p> + “I've often marvelled at the queer collection people seem to bring out,” + said Mr. Linton. “It's not so bad of late years, but ten years ago a + jackeroo would arrive here with about a lorry-load of stuff, most of which + he could have bought much more cheaply in Melbourne or Sydney—and + he'd certainly never use the greater part of it. Apparently a London shop + will sell you the same kind of outfit for a Melbourne suburb as if you + were going into the wilds of West Africa. They haven't any conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “They just never learn geography,” said Norah. “And 'the Colonies' to them + mean exactly the same thing, no matter in what continent the colony may + be. If they can sell pioneers tinware to take out to Melbourne, so much + the better for them. Well, I must see Brownie, or there may not be early + breakfast for pioneers or any one else.” + </p> + <p> + Brownie rose to the occasion—there had never been any known occasion + to which Brownie did not rise—and the hospital at Cunjee was still + grappling with early morning problems next day when the Billabong motor + pulled up at the door, after a flying visit to the new home—which + Tommy, regarding with the large eye of faith, had declared to be full of + boundless possibilities. Dr. Anderson came out to meet the new-comers, + Norah and Tommy, neat and workmanlike; Jim, bearing their luggage; and Mr. + Linton and Bob sharing a large humper, into which Brownie had packed + everything eatable she could find—and Brownie's capacity for finding + things eatable at short notice was one of her most astonishing traits. The + little doctor, harassed as he was, greeted them with a twinkle. + </p> + <p> + “You Lintons generally appear bearing your sheaves with you,” he said. + “Well, you're very welcome. How many of you do I keep?” + </p> + <p> + “Tommy and Norah, for certain,” said Mr. Linton. “And as many more of us + as you please. Want us all, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I really don't; there are a good many men volunteers. But if I + might commandeer the car and a driver for a few hours, I should be glad,” + the doctor went on. “There are some cases to be brought in from Mardale + and Clinthorpe. I heard of them only this morning, on the telephone, and I + was wondering how to get them in.” + </p> + <p> + “We're at your disposal, and you've only to telephone for us or the car + whenever you want it,” said Mr. Linton. “How are things this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—bad enough. We have several very troublesome cases; people + simply won't give in soon enough. My youngsters are very ill, but I'm not + really worried about them as long as my wife keeps up. Our biggest trouble + is that our cook here went down this morning. She told me she couldn't + sleep a wink all night, and when she woke up in the morning her tongue was + sticking to the roof of her head!—and certainly she has temperature + enough for any strange symptoms. But we feel rather as if the bottom had + dropped out of the universe, for none of our volunteers are equal to the + job.” + </p> + <p> + “I can cook,” said Norah and Tommy together. + </p> + <p> + “Can you?” said the little doctor, staring at them as though the heavens + had opened and rained down angels on his head. “Are you sure? You don't + look like it!” + </p> + <p> + “I can guarantee them,” said Mr. Linton, laughing. “Only you'll have to + watch Norah, for the spell of the war is heavy upon her, and she'll boil + your soup bones thirteen times, and feed you all on haricot beans and + lentils if nobody checks her!” + </p> + <p> + “Dad, you haven't any manners,” said Norah severely. “May I cook, Doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “You can share the job,” said Dr. Anderson thankfully. “I really think + it's more than enough for one of you. This place is getting pretty full. + Of course, I've wired to town for a cook, but goodness knows if we'll get + one; it's unlikely. Come on, now, and I'll introduce you to Sister.” + </p> + <p> + Sister proved to be a tall, capable, quiet woman, with war decorations. + She greeted the volunteers thankfully, and unhesitatingly pronounced their + place to be cooks, rather than nurses. + </p> + <p> + “I can get girls who will do well enough in the wards,” she said, “where I + can direct them. But I can't be in the kitchen too. If you two can carry + on without supervision it will be a godsend.” + </p> + <p> + So the kitchen swallowed up Norah and Tommy, and there they worked during + the weeks that followed, while the influenza scourge raged round Victoria. + The little cottage-hospital became full almost to bursting-point. Even the + rooms for the staff had to be appropriated, and nurses and helpers slept + in a cottage close by. Luckily for the cooks, Cunjee now boasted a gas + supply and its citizens supplied them with gas-stoves, as Norah said, “in + clutches,” so that they worked in comfort. It was hard work, with little + time to spare, but the girls had learned method, and they soon mapped out + a routine that prevented their ever being rushed or flurried. And they + blessed the cold weather that saved constant watching lest supplies should + go bad. + </p> + <p> + From Billabong came daily hampers that greatly relieved their labours. It + was a matter of some amazement to the Lintons that Brownie did not + volunteer for the hospital, and indeed, it had been the first thought of + Brownie herself. But she repressed it firmly, though by no means feeling + comfortable. To Murty she confided her views, and was relieved by his + approval. + </p> + <p> + “I know I did ought to go,” she said, almost tearfully. “There's those two + blessed lambs in the kitchen, doing wot I'd ought to be doing; and I know + Mrs. Archdale 'ud come up an' run things 'ere for me. But wot 'ud 'appen + if I did go, I ask you, Murty? Simply they'd take the two blessed lambs + out of the kitchen an' put 'em to nursing in the wards, an' next thing you + knew they'd both be down with the beastly flu' themselves. They're safer + among the pots and pans, Murty. But when the master looks at me I don't + feel comferable.” + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, let him look,” said Murty stoutly. “'Tis the great head ye have on + ye; I'd never have thought of it. Don't go worryin', now. Are ye not + sendin' them in the heighth of good livin' every day?” + </p> + <p> + “That's the least I can do,” said Brownie, brightening a little. “Only I'd + like to think Miss Norah and Miss Tommy got some of it, and not just them + patients, gethered up from goodness knows where.” + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, Miss Norah wouldn't want to know their addresses before she'd feed + 'em,” said the bewildered Murty. But there came a suspicious smell from + the kitchen, as of something burning, and Mrs. Brown fled with a swiftness + that was surprising, considering her circumference. + </p> + <p> + Jim lived a moving existence in those days, flying between Billabong and + Cunjee in the car, bringing supplies, always on hand for a job if wanted, + and insisting that on their daily “time off” Norah and Tommy should come + out for a spin into the country. Sometimes they managed to take Sister, + too, or some of the other helpers. The car never went out with any empty + seats. Presently they were recovering patients to be given fresh air or + taken home; white-faced mothers, longing to be back to the house and + children left in the care of “dad,” and whatever kindly neighbours might + drop in; or “dads” themselves, much bewildered at the amazing illness that + had left them feeling as if neither their legs nor their heads belonged to + them. Occasionally, after dropping one of these convalescents, Jim would + find jobs waiting to his hand about the bush homestead; cows to milk, a + fence to be mended, wood waiting to be chopped. He used to do them + vigorously, while in the house “mum” fussed over her restored man and + tried to keep him from going out to run the farm immediately. There were + generally two or three astonished children to show him where tools were + kept—milk buckets, being always up-ended on a fence post, needed no + introduction, and the pump, for a sluice afterwards, was not hard of + discovery. The big Rolls-Royce used to purr gently away through the bush + paddock afterwards, often with a bewildered “mum” looking amazedly at the + tall young man who drove it. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Bob Rainham, left alone with his host, set about the business of + his new farm in earnest, since there seemed nothing else for him to do; + and David Linton, possibly glad of the occupation, threw himself into the + work. The farm was bought on terms that seemed to Bob very easy—he + did not know that Mr. Linton stood security for his payments—and + then began the task of stocking it and of planning just what was best to + do with each paddock. The house, left bare and clean by the last owners, + was in good repair, save that the dingy white painting of the exterior, + and the varnished pine walls and ceilings within were depressing and + shabby. Mr. Linton decided that his house-warming present to Tommy should + be a coat of paint for her mansion, and soon it looked new—dark red, + with a gleaming white roof, while the rooms were painted in pretty fresh + colours. “Won't Tommy get a shock!” chuckled Bob gleefully. The dinginess + of the house had not escaped him on the morning that they had made their + first inspection, but Tommy, who loved freshness and colours, had made no + sign. Had you probed the matter, Tommy would probably have remarked, with + some annoyance, that it was not her job to begin by grumbling. + </p> + <p> + Wally came hurtling back from Queensland at the first hint of the + influenza outbreak, and was considerably depressed at finding his twin + souls, Jim and Norah, engaged in jobs that for once he could not share. + Therefore he, too, fell back on the new farm, and found Bob knitting his + brow one evening over the question of furniture. + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to buy much,” he said. “Tommy doesn't, either; we talked it + over. We'd rather do with next to nothing, and buy decent stuff by degrees + if we get on well. Tommy says she doesn't want footling little gimcracky + tables and whatnots and things, nor dressing-tables full of drawers that + won't pull out. But I've been looking at the cheap stuff in Cunjee, and, + my word, it's nasty! Still, I can't afford good things now, and Tommy + wouldn't like it if I tried to get 'em. Tommy's death on the simple life.” + </p> + <p> + “How are you on tools?” queried Wally. + </p> + <p> + “Using tools? Pretty fair,” admitted Bob. “I took up carpentering at + school; it was always a bit of a hobby of mine. I'm no cabinet-maker, if + that's what you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't need to be,” Wally answered. “Up where I come from—we + were pretty far back in Queensland—we hardly ever saw real + furniture, the stuff you buy in shops. It was all made out of + packing-cases and odd bits of wood. Jolly decent, too; you paint 'em up to + match the rooms, or stain 'em dark colours, and the girls put sort of + petticoats round some of the things.” + </p> + <p> + “We began that way,” said David Linton, with a half-sigh. “There was + surprisingly little proper furniture in our first house, and we were very + comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't we begin, sir?” asked Wally eagerly. “This wet weather looks + like setting in. Bob can't do much on the farm. If we could get out a few + odd lengths of timber and some old packing cases from the township—” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, you don't need to do that!” exclaimed their host. “The place is + full of both; packing-cases have been arriving at Billabong since Jim was + a baby, and very few of them have gone away again. There's plenty of + timber knocking about, too. We'll go over to the farm if you like, Bob, + and plan out measurements.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it's a splendid idea, thanks, sir,” said Bob slowly. “Only I + don't quite see why I should bother you—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't talk rubbish!” said David Linton, getting up. “I believe I'm + glad of the job—the place seems queer without Jim and Norah.” + </p> + <p> + “My word!” said Wally. “Let's all turn carpenters, and give Tommy the + surprise of her life!” + </p> + <p> + They flung themselves at the work with energy. A visit to the new house, + and a careful study of each room, revealed unsuspected possibilities to + Bob, whose English brain, “brought up,” as Wally said, “on a stodgy diet + of bedroom suites,” had failed to grasp what might be done by handy people + with a soul above mere fashion in the matter of furniture. They came back + with a notebook bulging with measurements and heads seething with ideas. + First, they dealt with the bedrooms, and made for each a set of long + shelves and a dressing-table-cupboard—the latter a noble piece of + furniture, which was merely a packing-case, smoothed, planed and fitted + with shelves; the whole to be completed with a seemly petticoat when Tommy + should be able to detach her mind from influenza patients. They made her, + too, a little work-table, which was simply a wide, low shelf, at which she + could write or sew—planned to catch a good light from her window, so + that as she sat near it, she could see the line of willows that marked the + creek and the rolling plains that ended in the ranges behind Billabong. + Tommy's room was painted in pale green; and when they had stained all + these exciting additions dark green, Bob heaved a great sigh, and yearned + audibly for the swift recovery of the influenza patients, so that Tommy + could return and behold her new possessions. + </p> + <p> + “We could make washstands,” said Mr. Linton, when they had fitted out the + two remaining bedrooms. “But washstands are depressing things, and would + take up a good deal of space in these little rooms. You have a good water + supply, Bob; why not have built-in basins with taps, and lay on water + through the bedrooms?” + </p> + <p> + Bob whistled. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt! Is that really possible?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite, I should say. It wouldn't take elaborate plumbing, and the pipes + could discharge into an irrigation drain for your vegetable garden. It + would save Tommy ever so much work in carrying water, too. There's a + fearsome amount of water carried in and out of bedrooms, and I can't see + why pipes shouldn't do the work. It need not cost you much—just a + shelf across a corner, with an enamelled basin let in.” + </p> + <p> + “Save you buying jugs and basins,” said Wally. “Great money-saving idea!” + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” said Bob. “Is there anyone in Cunjee who can plumb?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; there's a handy man who can do the whole thing. We'll get Jim to + go and see him tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + They left this job to the handy man, who proved equal to all demands, and + went on themselves to higher flights. Kitchen and pantry were already + fitted with shelves, but they built in a dresser, and found a spare + corner, where they erected a linen press warranted to bring tears of joy + to the eye of any housewife. Round the little dining-room and sitting-room + they ran a very narrow shelf, just wide enough to carry flowers and + ornaments, and they made wide, low window seats in each room. Then, + becoming bold by success, they turned to cabinet making, and built into + the dining-room a sideboard, which was only a glorified edition of the + kitchen dresser, but looked amazingly like walnut, aided by a little + stain; and for both sitting-rooms made low cupboards, with tops wide + enough to serve as little tables. Even the verandah was furnished with + wide shelf tables and a cupboard, and with low and broad seats. + </p> + <p> + “And it's all done by kindness—and packing cases!” said Jim, + surveying the result with admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I'm afraid a lot of your father's good timber has gone into it,” + said Bob half ruefully. “He was awfully good about it, and the supply of + just-what-you-want timber on Billabong seemed inexhaustible.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you really used very little good stuff,” David Linton said. “It's + chiefly packing cases, truly, Jim. But we had plenty of time to plane it + up and make it look decent. Bob ran an electric light into the workshop + and we worked every night. I believe it's kept us from getting influenza + from sheer boredom, with all you people away.” + </p> + <p> + “They'll soon be home,” Jim said cheerfully. “Influenza's dying out, I + believe. No fresh cases for three days, and all the patients are getting + better. The little Andersons are up and about. By the way, Dad, couldn't + we bring those kiddies out to Billabong for a change?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” his father answered. “Tell Mrs. Anderson to come too, + or, if she won't leave her husband, Brownie will be delighted at the + chance of getting two children to look after again. Are the cooks quite + cheery, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “As cheery as possible,” Jim answered. “They got off early to-day, and I + took them and Sister and the Anderson youngsters out for a run. Did 'em + all good. I'm coming home to-night, and they don't want me to-morrow, + because they're going to afternoon tea with some one or other. Flighty + young things, those cooks! So I can help you carpenters or do any odd + jobs.” + </p> + <p> + “We've lots,” said Wally, who was putting a finishing coat of dark green + enamel to a rod destined as a towel rail for Tommy's room. “Simple jobs, + suitable for your understanding. Take care, Jimmy, I've a wet paint brush, + and you have a good suit on! I want to put shelves from floor to ceiling + of the bathroom, because the walls are rough and unlined, and nothing on + earth will make it a beautiful room. So Tommy may as well store there all + the things she doesn't want anywhere else. And you can make her a medicine + cupboard. I shan't have time to look at any of you unskilled labourers, + for I'm going to build her a draining-rack for plates and things over the + kitchen sink. And I can tell you, that takes brains!” + </p> + <p> + “Then it's not your job!” said Jim definitely. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it? I'll show you, you old Bond Street fashion plate!” Wally + stretched his long form, simply attired in a khaki shirt and dungaree + trousers, much be-splashed by paint, and looked scornfully at his neatly + dressed friend. “You needn't think, because you come here dressed like the + lilies of the field and fresh from motoring girls round the country, that—” + </p> + <p> + “My hat!” said Jim justly incensed. “And I after cleaning out and + whitewashing the hospital fowl-houses all the morning! Young Wally, you + need some one to sit on your head.” He took off his coat slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Ten to one,” said Wally hastily, “if we had time to look into the matter + we'd find you'd whitewashed the fowls as well! These Army Johnnies are so + beastly impractical!” He gathered up his brushes and fled, pursued by his + chum. Sounds of warfare came faintly from the distance. + </p> + <p> + “It's a good thing some of us are sane,” said Mr. Linton laughing. “Nearly + finished, Bob?” + </p> + <p> + He was painting a shelf-table, screwed to the wall within a space at the + end of the verandah, which they had completely enclosed with wire mosquito + netting. Bob was hanging the door of this open-air room in position, a + task requiring judgment, as the floor of the verandah was old and uneven. + </p> + <p> + “Nearly, sir,” he mumbled, his utterance made difficult by the fact of + having several screws in his mouth. He worked vigorously for a few + moments, and then stood back to survey his job. “This is going to be a + great little room—though it's hard just now to imagine that it will + ever be warm enough for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Just you wait a few months until we get a touch of hot weather, and the + mosquitoes come out!” said David Linton. “Then you and Tommy will + thankfully entrench yourselves in here at dusk, and listen to the singing + hordes dashing themselves against the netting in the effort to get at + you!” + </p> + <p> + “That's the kind of thing they used to tell me on the Nauru,” Bob said + laughing; “but I didn't quite expect it from you, Mr. Linton!” + </p> + <p> + The squatter chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Well, indeed, it's no great exaggeration in some years,” he said. “They + can be bad enough for anything, though it isn't always they are. But an + open-air room is never amiss, for if there aren't mosquitoes a lamp will + attract myriads of other insects on a hot night. That looks all right, + Bob; you've managed that door very well.” + </p> + <p> + “First rate!” said Jim and Wally approvingly, returning arm in arm. + </p> + <p> + “You're great judges!” David Linton rejoined, looking at the pair. “Have + you returned to work, may I ask, or are you still imitating the lilies of + the field?” + </p> + <p> + “Jim is; he couldn't help it,” said Wally. “But I have been studying that + oak tree out in the front, Mr. Linton. It seems to me that a seat built + round it would be very comforting to weary bones on warm evenings—” + </p> + <p> + Bob gathered up his tools with decision in each movement. + </p> + <p> + “Wally has come to that state of mind in which he can't look at anything + on the place without wanting to build something out of a packing case in + it, or round it, or on top of it!” he said. “When the sheep come I'll have + to keep you from them, or you'll be building shelves round them!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you're nearly as bad yourself!” grinned Wally. + </p> + <p> + “I know I am, and that's why I've got to stop. I'm going to leave nice + little chisels and spokeshaves and smoothing planes, and mend up the + pigsty; it needs it badly, and so does the cow-shed. And then I've got to + think of ploughing, and cutting that drain across the flat, and generally + earning my living.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry,” said David Linton. “You couldn't have done much outside + in this wet weather, and at least your house is half-furnished. And we'll + help you through with the other things.” + </p> + <p> + “You're all just bricks,” said Bob, his fair skin flushing—“only I + begin to feel as if I were fed with a spoon. I can't always expect to have + my work done for me.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't shown much wish to leave it for anyone else,” Jim said drily. + “Neither you nor Tommy strikes this district as a loafer. Just stop + talking bosh, old man, and think what Tommy's going to say to her + mansion.” + </p> + <p> + “Say?” queried Mr. Linton. “Why, she'll point out to us all the places + where she wants shelves!” + </p> + <p> + “Shelves?” yelled the three as one man. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, certainly. There was never a woman born who had enough. Don't lose + sight of your tools, Bob, for you'll go on putting up shelves as long as + you've an inch of wall to put them on. Come along, boys, and we'll go + home.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE HOME ON THE CREEK + </h3> + <p> + “I think it's the loveliest home that ever was!” said Tommy solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, indeed, it takes some beating,” Wally agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Creek Cottage”—the name was of Tommy's choosing—was ready for + occupation, and they had just finished a tour of it. There was nothing in + it that was not fresh and bright and dainty—like Tommy herself. The + rooms were small, but they had good windows, where the crisp, short + curtains were not allowed to obscure the view. There were fresh mattings + and linoleums on the floors, and the home-made furniture now boasted, + where necessary, curtains of chintz or cretonne, that matched its + colouring. Norah and Tommy had spent cheery hours over those draperies. + The curtains for Tommy's “suite” had been Norah's gift—of dark-green + linen, embroidered in dull blue silks; and in the corner there was a + little sofa with cushions of the same. Tommy had purred—was, in + fact, still purring—over that home-made furniture, and declared it + superior to any that money could buy. She had also suggested new ideas for + shelves. + </p> + <p> + They had not troubled furniture shops much. Save for a few comfortable + arm-chairs, there was nothing solid and heavy in the house; but it was all + pleasant and home-like, and the little rooms, bright with books and + pictures and flowers, had about them the touch of welcome and restfulness + that makes the difference between a home and a mere house. The kitchen was + Tommy's especial pride—it was cool and spotless, with fresh-painted + walls and ceilings, and shining white tiles round the white sink—over + which Wally's draining-rack sat in glory. Dazzling tin-ware decorated the + walls, and the dresser held fresh and pretty china. For weeks it had been + a point of honour for no one to visit Cunjee without bringing Tommy a gift + for the kitchen—meat fork, a set of skewers, a tin pepper castor; + offerings wrapped in many coverings of tissue paper, and presented with + great solemnity, generally at dinner. The last parcel had been from Mr. + Linton, and had eclipsed all the others—an alarum clock, warranted + to drive the soundest sleeper from her bed. Bob declared it specially + designed to ensure his getting fed at something approaching a reasonable + hour. + </p> + <p> + A wide verandah ran round the whole house, and rush lounges and deck + chairs stood about invitingly—Tommy had insisted that there should + be plenty of seating accommodation on the verandah for all the Linton + party, since they filled the little rooms to an alarming extent. Near + where they stood the drawing-room opened out by a French window. Something + caught Tommy's eye, and she dived into the room—to return, laughing + with new treasure-trove—a sink brush and saucepan-scrubber, tied up + with blue ribbon. + </p> + <p> + “Your doing?” she asked, brandishing them. + </p> + <p> + “Not mine.” Wally shook his head. “I don't do frivolous things like that. + But I heard Jim wheedling blue ribbon out of Norah this morning, and I + don't fancy he has much use for it ordinarily. You'd better ask him.” + </p> + <p> + “It's like both of you—you nice stupids!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What?—the pot-scrub! That's not polite of you, Miss Rainham; and so + untrue, where I'm concerned.” Wally sat down on the arm of a lounge and + regarded her with a twinkle. “What's old Bob doing?” + </p> + <p> + Tommy laughed happily. + </p> + <p> + “I think whenever we don't know where Bob is, he's safe to be out looking + at either the sheep or the pigs,” she said. “He just loves them; and he + says he can see them growing.” + </p> + <p> + There was a hint of Spring in the air, and more than a hint of good grass + in the green paddocks stretching away from the house. By the creek the + willows were putting out long, tender shoots that would soon be a thick + curtain. The lucerne patch that stretched along its bank was dense and + high. The Rainhams had been delayed in taking possession of Creek Cottage; + a severe cold had smitten Tommy just at the end of her labours in the + hospital, and, being thoroughly tired out, it had been some time before + she could shake off its effects. Mr. Linton and Norah had put down their + feet with joint firmness, declaring that in no circumstances should she + begin housekeeping until she was thoroughly fit; so the Rainhams had + remained at Billabong. Tommy was petted and nursed in a way she had not + known since Aunt Margaret had died, while Bob worked feverishly at his + farm, riding over every day from Billabong, with a package of Brownie's + sandwiches in his pocket, and returning at dusk, dirty and happy. Bob was + responding to Australian conditions delightfully, and was only + discontented because he could not make his farm all that he wanted it to + be within the first week. + </p> + <p> + Therein, however, he had unexpected help. The Cunjee district was a + friendly one; station owners and farmers alike looked kindly on the young + immigrant who turned so readily to work after four years' fighting. + Moreover, Tommy's work in the hospital was well known; the general opinion + being that “anything might be expected from young Norah Linton, but you + wouldn't think a bit of a new-chum kid like Bob Rainham's sister would + turn to and cook for a crowd, and she hardly off the ship!” So the + district laid its heads together and consulted Mr. Linton; with the result + that one morning Bob found himself unexpectedly accompanied to work by his + host. It was nothing unusual for Jim or Wally, or both, to go with him. He + was cutting a drain, which they declared to be a job for which they had a + particular fancy. But to-day he found Monarch saddled with the other + horses, and Mr. Linton, not only ready to start, but hurrying them off; + and there was no lunch to carry, Norah airily declaring that since she and + Tommy were to be deserted they declined to be downtrodden, and would motor + over with a hamper and picnic at Creek Cottage. There was a mysterious + twinkle in Norah's eye; Bob scented something afoot, and tried—in + vain—to pump her on the matter. He rode away, his curiosity + unsatisfied. + </p> + <p> + But when they rode up the homestead paddock at his farm, he gave a long + whistle. + </p> + <p> + “What on earth—?” he began amazedly. + </p> + <p> + There were men in sight everywhere, and all working. Eight or nine ploughs + were moving across the paddocks destined for cultivation; already wide + strips of freshly turned earth showed that they had been some time at + work. On the flat where Bob had begun his drain was a line of men, and + some teams with earth-scoops, cutting a deep channel. There were even men + digging in the garden; and the sound of axes came faintly from a belt of + scrub that Bob was planning to clear—some day. He gaped at them. + </p> + <p> + “What does it mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a bee,” said Wally kindly. “A busy bee, improving each shining + hour.” + </p> + <p> + Bob turned a puzzled, half-distressed face to Mr. Linton. + </p> + <p> + “I say, sir—what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It's just that, my boy,” said David Linton. “The district had a fancy to + help you—Cunjee thinks a heap of soldiers, you see. So a lot of the + fellows got together and planned to put in a day on the creek, doing odd + jobs.” + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said poor Bob flushing scarlet, “I never heard such a thing—and + I hardly know any of them. Whatever am I to say to them, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't say much at all,” said David Linton laughing. “You'll only + embarrass them if you do. Just take a hand in any job you like, and carry + on—as we're all going to do.” + </p> + <p> + “There's one man you know, anyhow,” said Jim grinning. He pointed out old + Joe Howard, the nearest to them among the ploughmen. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens!” ejaculated Bob. “You don't mean to tell me old Joe has come of + his own accord!” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't keep him away,” Jim said. “He remarked that you were a very + decent young feller, and he'd taught you how to work, so he might as well + lend an 'and. It's like old Joe's cheek, but he'll claim for ever that he + made you a worker.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, let him,” said Bob. “It doesn't hurt me, and it may amuse him.” His + gaze travelled across the busy paddocks. “Well—I'm just staggered,” + he said. “The least I can do is to get to work quickly.” + </p> + <p> + They turned the horses out and scattered; Bob to cutting scrub—it + was the job he liked least, so it seemed to him the decent thing to tackle + it—Jim to the drain construction, while Wally joined the band of + workers in the garden, since he knew Tommy's plans concerning it; and Mr. + Linton attacked a fence that needed repairs. In the middle of the morning + came the Billabong motor, driven by Norah, with Brownie and a maid in the + tonneau with Tommy, and hampers packed wherever possible. A cart with + other supplies had been driven over by Evans in the very early morning, + since Billabong had undertaken the feeding of the workers for the day. The + Rolls-Royce picked its way delicately round the paddocks, while the girls + carried drinks and huge slabs of cake to the different bands of workers—this + being the time for “smoke-oh.” Then they hurried back to the cottage, + where Brownie and Maria were busy unpacking hampers on the verandah, and + Brownie was preparing to carve great joints of beef and mutton and pork in + readiness for the hungry horde that would descend on them at dinner time. + </p> + <p> + It was all ready when the men trooped up from the paddocks—squatters + and stockmen, farmers, horse breakers, bush workers of every degree; all + dirty and cheery, and filled with a mighty hunger. Soap and water awaited + them at the back; then they came round to sit on the edge of the long + verandahs, balancing heaped plates on their knees, and making short work + of Brownie's provisions. Jokes and cheery talk filled the air. Tommy, + carrying plates shyly at first, found herself the object of much friendly + interest. “Little Miss Immigrant,” they called her, and vied with each + other in making her feel that they were all welcoming her. But they did + not waste much time over dinner—soon one after another got up and + sauntered away, lighting his pipe, and presently there were straggling + lines of figures going back to work across the paddocks. After which Norah + and Tommy bullied Bob into eating something—he had been far too + anxious to wait on his hungry “bee” to think of feeding himself, and then + the ladies of the party lunched with the ardour of the long-delayed, and + fell upon the colossal business of dish-washing. + </p> + <p> + Afternoon tea came early, by which time nearly all the ploughing was done, + and the brown ribbon of the new drain stretched, wide and deep, across the + flat. The girls took the meal round the paddocks, this time with Bob to + carry the steaming billies of tea; it gave him a chance to thank his + helpers, when it was difficult to say whether the thanker or the thanked + were the more embarrassed. Soon after “cow time” loomed for some of the + workers, and whatever waits in Australia, it must not be the cow; so that + here and there a man shouldered his tools, and, leaving them at the shed, + caught his horse and rode away—apologizing to Bob, if he happened to + meet him, for going so early, with the brief apology of the dairy farmer, + “Gotter get home an' milk.” But the majority worked on until dusk came + down and put an end to their efforts, and then came up for their horses, + singing and laughing. + </p> + <p> + Bob stood at the gate, bareheaded, as they rode away. By this time he had + no words at all. He wished from the bottom of his heart that he could tell + them what good fellows he thought them; but he could only stand, holding + the gate for them with Tommy by his side; and it may be that the look on + each tired young face moved “the bee” more than eloquence would have done. + They shouted cheery good-byes as they went. “Good luck, Miss Immigrant! + Good luck, Captain!” And the dusk swallowed them up, leaving only the + sound of the cantering hoofs. + </p> + <p> + Thanks to “the bee,” the little farm on the creek looked very flourishing + on the great day when the lady of the house came down in state to take + possession of her domain. Bob had worked hard in the garden, where already + rows of vegetables showed well; Jim and Wally had aided Norah and Tommy in + the making of a flower garden, laying heavy toll on Hogg's stores for the + purpose; to-day it was golden and white with daffodils and narcissi and + snowdrops. The cultivation paddocks, no longer brown, rippled with green + oats; and cattle were grazing on the rough grass of the flats, once a + swamp, but already showing the influence of the big drain. Bob had great + plans for ploughing all his flats next year. Dairy cows pastured in the + creek paddock near the house; beyond, Bob's beloved sheep were steadily + engrossed in the fascinating pursuit of “turning into wool and mutton.” He + never grew tired of watching the process. + </p> + <p> + The ever-present problem of labour, too, had solved itself pleasantly + enough. Sarah, for many years housemaid at Billabong, had married a man on + a farm near Cunjee, whose first attempt at renting a place for himself had + been brought to an untimely end by the drought; and Sarah had returned to + Billabong, to help in preparing for the home-coming of the long-absent + family, while her husband secured a temporary job in Cunjee and looked + about for another chance. There Jim had found him, while helping at the + hospital; the end of the matter being that Sarah and Bill and their baby + were installed at Creek Cottage, Bill to be general utility man on the + farm, and to have a share of profits, while Sarah helped Tommy in the + house. Every one was satisfied, and already there were indications that + Tommy would be daft over the baby. + </p> + <p> + Sarah came out now to say that tea was ready—she had insisted on + being responsible for everything on this first day. Not that there was + much to do, for Brownie had sent over a colossal hamper, declaring that + Miss Tommy shouldn't be bothered with thinking about food when she wasn't + 'ardly settled. So they packed into the little dining-room; where, indeed, + it took no small ingenuity to stow so large a party, when three of the six + happened to be of the size of David Linton and Jim and Wally; and Tommy + did the honours of her own table for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “And to think,” she said presently, “that six months ago there was only + Lancaster Gate! Of course, there was always Bob”—she flashed him a + quick smile—“but Bob was—” + </p> + <p> + “In the air,” put in Norah. + </p> + <p> + “Very much so. And it didn't seem a bit certain that I could ever get him + out of it; or, if I did, that I could ever escape from Lancaster Gate.” + </p> + <p> + “And you wouldn't, if the she-dragon had had her way,” Bob said. + </p> + <p> + “No. There was nothing to do but run. But even when I dreamed of running, + I never thought of more than a workman's cottage, with you earning wages + and me trying to make both ends meet. And now—look at us! Bloated + capitalists and station owners.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you were a cook not so long ago. I wouldn't be too proud,” Wally + gibed. + </p> + <p> + “All the more reason for me to be proud—I've risen in the world,” + declared Tommy. “Left my situation to better myself—isn't that the + right way to put it? And we've got the jolliest home in Australia—thanks + to all of you. Do have some more cake, Mr. Linton; I'd love to say I made + it myself, but Brownie did—still, all the same, it's mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you worry,” he told her. “I'm coming here plenty of times for cake + of your own baking.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I want.” She beamed at him. “All of you. Bob and I will feel + lost and lonesome if we don't see you all—oh, often.” + </p> + <p> + “But you're going to,” Norah said. “We'll be over goodness knows how many + times a week, and you two are always coming to dinner on Sunday, and ever + so many other days as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it in your plans that any work should be done on this estate?” + queried Bob solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, in your spare time,” Wally answered. “Any time you're not on + the road between here and Billabong, or catching a horse to go there, or + letting one go after coming back, or minding the Billabong horde when it + comes over, you can do a little towards improving the creek. I say, Bob, + it sounds the sort of life I'd love. Can't you give me a job, old man?” + </p> + <p> + “Seeing that you've done little but work on this place since you came back + from Queensland, I shouldn't think you'd need to ask for a job,” retorted + Bob. “However, I'll take you on as milker if you like—it's about the + only thing you haven't sampled.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Wally, “you won't. Whatever beast I finally take to by way of + earning my living, it won't be the cow—if I can help it. I'd sooner + graze giraffes!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do try!” Norah begged. “I'd love to see you trying to put a bridle on + one in a hurry!” + </p> + <p> + “Wonder what would happen if one rode a giraffe and he reared?” pondered + Jim. + </p> + <p> + “You'd have to swarm up his neck and hang on to his little horns,” Wally + said. “But they're nice, silent beasts, giraffes, and I think they'd be + very restful to deal with.” + </p> + <p> + Every one laughed unsympathetically. Restfulness was the last quality to + be associated with Wally, who had been remarkable throughout his life for + total inability to keep still. + </p> + <p> + “It's always the way,” said Wally, in tones of melancholy. “Every fortune + teller I ever saw told me that no one understood me.” + </p> + <p> + “All fortune tellers say that, and that's why people think them so + clever,” said Tommy. “It's so soothing to think one is misunderstood. My + stepmother always thought so. Did Bob tell you, Mr. Linton, that we had + had letters from home?” + </p> + <p> + “No—from your people?” + </p> + <p> + “From Papa. The she-dragon didn't write. I think her words would have been + too burning to put on paper. But Papa wrote a pretty decent letter—for + him. He didn't speak of our letters from Liverpool—the notes we + wrote from the hotel, saying we were leaving for Australia. But he + acknowledged Bob's letter from Melbourne, saying we were going up country + under your wing, and actually wished us luck! Amazing, from Papa!” + </p> + <p> + “I think he's jolly glad we got away,” Bob said. + </p> + <p> + “I think that's highly probable,” said David Linton. “You'll write to him + occasionally, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I suppose so,” Bob answered. “Sometimes I'm a bit sorry for him; + it must be pretty awful to be always under the heel of a she-dragon. Oh, + and there was a really fatherly sort of letter from old Mr. Clinton. He's + an old brick; and he's quite pleased about our finding you—or you + finding us. He was always a bit worried lest Tommy should feel lonesome in + Australia.” + </p> + <p> + “And not you?” Norah asked laughing. + </p> + <p> + “No, he didn't worry a bit about me; he merely hoped I'd be working too + hard to notice lonesomeness. I think the old chap always was a bit + doubtful that any fellow would get down to solid work after flying; he + used to say the two things wouldn't agree. But you sent him a decent + report of me, didn't you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—I wrote when you asked me, just after you bought this + place,” David Linton said. “Told him you were working like a cart-horse, + which was no more than the truth, and that Tommy was serving her adopted + country as a cook; and that I considered your prospects good. He'll have + had that letter before now—and I suppose others from you.” + </p> + <p> + “We wrote a few weeks ago—sent him a photograph of the house, and of + Tommy on a horse, and Tommy told him all about our furniture,” Bob + chuckled. “I don't quite know how a staid old London lawyer will regard + the furniture; he won't understand its beauty a bit. But he ought to be + impressed with our stern regard for economy.” + </p> + <p> + “He should,” said Mr. Linton with a twinkle. “And I presume you mentioned + the sheep?” + </p> + <p> + “As a matter of fact,” said Tommy confidentially, “his letter was little + but mutton. He described all his ewes in detail—” + </p> + <p> + “Colour of their eyes?” queried Wally. + </p> + <p> + “And their hair,” nodded Tommy. “I never read anything so poetical. And + any enthusiasm he had over went to the pigs and the Kelpie pup!” + </p> + <p> + “But what about the cows?” laughed Norah. “And the young bullocks?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he mentioned them. But cattle are just four-legged animals to Bob; + they don't stir his soul like sheep and pigs. He couldn't write beautiful + things about them. But when it comes to sheep, he just naturally turns + into a poet!” + </p> + <p> + The object of these remarks helped himself serenely to cake. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” he nodded at his sister cheerfully. “Wait until my wool cheque + comes in, and you want a new frock—then you'll speak respectfully of + my little merinoes. And if you don't, you won't get the frock!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I wouldn't disrespect them for anything,” Tommy said. “I think + they're lovely beasts. So graceful and agile. Will any of them come yet + when you whistle, Bobby?” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to put up with this sort of thing, Bob?” demanded Jim. + </p> + <p> + Bob smiled sweetly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm letting her have her head,” he said confidently. “It's badly swelled + just now, because she's got a house of her own—but you wait until + she wants a new set of shelves, or a horse caught in a hurry so that she + can tear over and find out from Norah how to cook something—then + she'll come to heel. It's something in your climate, I think, because she + was never so cheeky at home—meek was more the word to describe her.” + </p> + <p> + “Meek!” said his sister indignantly. “Indeed, I never was meek in my + life!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you were, and it was very becoming,” Bob assured her. “Now you're + more like a suffragette—” He stopped, staring. “Why, that's it! It + must be in the air! She knows she'll have the vote pretty soon!” He broke + into laughter. “Glory! Fancy little Tommy with a vote!” + </p> + <p> + Tommy joined in the general mirth. + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't realized it,” she said, “and I needn't bother for over eighteen + months, anyhow. And I don't believe that any of you have ever voted, even + if you are twenty-one—except Mr. Linton, of course; and you don't + know a bit more about it than I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear, hear!” said Wally. “I certainly don't, and neither does Jim. But + when we do vote, it's going to be for the chap who'll let us go and dig + our own coal out if there's a strike. That's sense; and it seems to me the + only sensible thing I've ever heard of in politics!” A speech which + manifested so unusual an amount of reflection in Wally that every one was + spellbound, and professed inability to eat any more. + </p> + <p> + Bob and Tommy stood on the verandah to watch their visitors go; Mr. Linton + and Norah in the motor, while Jim and Wally rode. The merry shouts of + farewell echoed through the gathering dusk. + </p> + <p> + “Bless them,” said Tommy—“the dears. I don't believe we'd have a + home now but for them, Bob.” + </p> + <p> + “We certainly wouldn't,” Bob answered. “And sometimes I feel as if they'd + spoon-fed us. Look at all they've done for us—these months at + Billabong and all they've taught us, and all the things that they've + showered on us. We couldn't pay them back in twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “And they talk as if the favour were on their side,” his sister said. + “There's the buggy they've lent us—Mr. Linton spent quite a long + time in pointing out to me how desirable it was for them that we should + use it, now that they have the car and don't need it. And the horses that + apparently would have gone to rack and ruin from idleness if we hadn't + come.” + </p> + <p> + “And the cows that don't seem to have had any reason for existence except + to supply us with milk,” Bob said laughing; “and the farm machinery that + never was really appreciated until immigrants came along—at least, + you'd think so to hear Jim talk, only its condition belies him. Oh, + they're bricks, all right. Only I don't seem as if I were standing + squarely on my own feet.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think we could expect to, just yet,” said Tommy pondering. “And + if they have helped us, Bobby, you can see they have loved doing it. It + would be ungracious for us not to take such help—given as it has + been.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course,” Bob answered and squared his shoulders. “Well, I'm going + to work like fury. The only thing I can do now is not to disappoint them. + I feel an awful new-chum, Tommy, but I've got to make good.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course you're going to,” she said, slipping a hand through his + arm. “Jim wouldn't let you make mistakes; and the land is good, and even + if we strike a bad season, there's always the creek—we'll never be + without water, Jim says. And we're going to have the jolliest home—it's + that now, and we're going to make it better.” + </p> + <p> + “It's certainly that now,” Bob said. “I just can't believe it's ours. Come + and prowl round, old girl.” + </p> + <p> + They prowled round in the dusk; up and down the garden paths by the + nodding daffodils, out round the sheds and the pigsties, and so down to + where the creek rippled and murmured in the gloom, flowing through + paddocks that, on either side, were their own. Memories of war and of + gloomy London fell away from them; only the bright present and a future + yet more bright filled them; and there was no loneliness, since all the + big new country had smiled to them and stretched out hands of + friendliness. They came back slowly to their house, arm in arm; two young + things, like shadows in the gloom, but certain in their own minds that + they could conquer Australia. + </p> + <p> + Bob lit the hanging lamp in the little sitting-room, and looked round him + proudly. A photograph caught his eye; a large group at his Surrey + Aerodrome, young officers clustered round a bi-plane that had just landed. + </p> + <p> + “Poor chaps,” he said, and stared at them. “Most of 'em don't know yet + that there's anything better in the world than flying.” + </p> + <p> + “But they've never met merino sheep,” said Tommy solemnly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE CUNJEE RACES + </h3> + <p> + “Who's going to the races?” demanded Jim. + </p> + <p> + He had ridden over to the creek alone, and Tommy had come to the garden + gate to greet him, since the young horse he was riding firmly declined to + be tied up. It was a very hot morning in Christmas week. Tommy was in a + blue print overall, and her face was flushed, her hair lying in little + damp rings on her forehead. Jim, provokingly cool in riding breeches and + white silk shirt, smiled down at her across the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Races!” said Tommy. “But what frivolity. Why, I'm bottling apricots.” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder you look warm, you poor little soul,” said Jim. “You oughtn't + to choose a scorcher like this for bottling. Anyhow, the races aren't + to-day, but New Year's day—Cunjee Picnic meeting. We're all going, + so you and Bob have got to come. Orders from Norah.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, New Year's day. I'd love to come,” Tommy said. “I've never seen + races.” + </p> + <p> + “Never seen races!” ejaculated young Australia in sheer amazement. “Where + were you dragged up?” They laughed at each other. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Margaret wasn't what you'd call a racing woman,” Tommy said. “I + don't fancy Bob has seen any, either. Bill and Sarah, to say nothing of + the baby, are going. I offered to mind the baby, but Sarah didn't seem to + think the picnic would be complete without her.” + </p> + <p> + “People have queer tastes,” Jim said. “I wouldn't choose a long day at + races as the ideal thing for a baby; but Sarah seems to think differently. + Wonder what Bill thinks? Still, I'm glad she didn't take you at your word, + because we'd have had to dispose of the baby somewhere if she had. I + suppose we could put it under the seat of the car!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do you?” Tommy regarded him with a glint in her eye. “No; we'd have + made you nurse her—she isn't 'it.' She's the nicest baby ever, and I + won't have her insulted.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, I wouldn't insult the baby for worlds,” grinned Jim. “I'll + look forward to meeting her at the races—especially as you won't be + minding her. Then it's settled, is it, Tommy? We thought of riding; will + it be too far for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit,” Tommy said. “Bob and I rode in and out of Cunjee the other + day, and I wasn't tired—and it was dreadfully hot.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you'll be all right on New Year's day, because the racecourse is two + miles this side of the township,” Jim said. “But Norah said I was to tell + you some of us could easily go in the car if you'd rather drive.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, thanks; I know you always ride, and I should love it,” Tommy + answered. “Is Mr. Linton going?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Indeed, as far as I can tell, the whole station's going,” Jim + said. “All except Brownie, of course; she scorns races. She says she can't + imagine why anyone should make anything run fast in the 'eat if they don't + want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Does Brownie ever leave Billabong?” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly ever,” Jim answered, laughing—“and it's getting more and + more difficult to make her. I think in a year or two it will need a charge + of dynamite. Oh, but, Tommy, we got her out in the car the other evening—had + to do it almost by main force. It was a hot evening, and we took her for a + spin along the road. She trembled like a jelly when we started, and all + the time she gripped the side with one hand and Norah's knee with the + other—quite unconsciously.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think she enjoyed it at all?” Tommy smiled. + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm jolly well sure she didn't,” Jim responded. “Brownie's much too + well mannered to criticize anyone else's property, but when she got out + she merely said, 'You have great courage, my dear.' And wild horses + wouldn't get her into it again, unless we promised to 'make it walk,' like + we did the day we brought her over to help at your working bee. The funny + part of it is that Norah believes she was just as frightened that morning, + only she had a job on, and so was too busy to think of it. But as for + going in a car for mere pleasure—not for Brownie!” + </p> + <p> + “Brownie's a dear,” said Tommy irrelevantly. “Jim, can't you put that + fierce animal in the stable or the horse paddock, or somewhere, and come + in for some tea? I simply must get back to my apricots.” + </p> + <p> + “And I've certainly no business to be keeping you standing here in the + heat,” Jim said. “No, I can't stay, thanks, Tommy—I promised dad I'd + meet him at the Far Plain gate at eleven o'clock, and it's nearly that + now. You run in to your apricots, and don't kill your little self over + them; it's no day for cooking if you can avoid it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I couldn't,” Tommy answered. “They were just right for bottling; + the sun to-day would have made them a bit too soft. And it's better to get + them done; to-morrow may be just as hot, or hotter.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true enough,” Jim said. “Feeling the heat much, little Miss + Immigrant?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not enough to grumble at,” she answered, smiling. “And the + bathing-hole in the creek is a joy; it's almost worth a hot day to get a + swim at the end of it. Bob has built me a bathing-box out of a tree, and + it's a huge success; he's very pleased with himself as an architect.” + </p> + <p> + “That's good business,” approved Jim. “You two never grumble, no matter + what comes along.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but nothing has come along but good luck,” Tommy said. “What have + we had to grumble at, I should like to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, some people find cause for grousing, no matter how good their luck + is,” Jim answered. “I believe you and old Bob would decline to recognize + bad luck even if it did come your way.” + </p> + <p> + “It's not coming,” Tommy said, laughing. “So don't talk about it—I + don't believe it exists.” She stood watching him for a moment as he tried + to mount; his big young thoroughbred resented the idea of anyone on his + back, and Jim had to hop beside him, with one foot in the stirrup, while + he danced round in a circle, trying to get away. Jim seized an + opportunity, and was in the saddle with a lithe swing; whereupon the horse + tried to get his head down to buck, and, being checked in that ambition, + progressed down the paddock in a succession of short, staccato bounds. + </p> + <p> + “I think I should have to recognize bad luck coming if I had to ride him + instead of Jim,” remarked Tommy quaintly. She turned and ran in to her + neglected apricots. + </p> + <p> + New Year's day broke clear and hot, like all the week before it. Norah, + arriving at the Creek about ten o'clock, looked a little anxiously at her + friend. + </p> + <p> + “We're used to riding in the heat, Tommy, dear,” she said. “But you're not—are + you sure you feel up to it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm going to love it,” Tommy said. She looked cool and workman-like + in a linen habit and white pith helmet—Norah's Christmas present. “I + hadn't these nice things to wear when Bob and I brought the sheep out from + Cunjee three weeks ago; and it was just as hot, and so dusty. And that + didn't kill me. I liked it, only I never got so dirty in my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall only have a hot ride one way,” said Norah philosophically. + “There's a concert in Cunjee, and the boys want to stay for it. The + concert won't be much, but the ride home in the moonlight will be lovely. + You and Bob can stay, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Bill must bring Sarah and the baby home in good time, so he will + milk the cows,” Tommy answered. “He wanted them to stay for the concert, + but Sarah had an amazing attack of common sense, and said it was no place + for a baby. I didn't think she considered any place unfit for a baby, and + certainly Bill doesn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Bush people don't,” said Norah, laughing. “If they did, they would never + go anywhere, because the babies must go too, no matter what happens. And + the babies get accustomed to it, and don't cry nearly as much as pampered + ones that are always in the nursery.” + </p> + <p> + “Bush kiddies grow a stock of common sense quite early,” said Wally's + voice from the door. “It leaves them in later life, and they stay + gossiping with immigrants in new riding-kit, leaving their unfortunate + fathers grilling in the sun. Which he says—” But at this point Norah + and Tommy brushed the orator from their path, and hastened out to the + horses—finding all the men comfortably smoking under a huge pepper + tree, and apparently in no hurry to start. + </p> + <p> + Bob bewailed his yellow paddocks as they rode down to the gate. + </p> + <p> + “They were so beautifully green a few weeks ago,” he said. “Now look at + them—why, they're like a crop. The sun has burnt every bit of + moisture out of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't let that worry you, my boy,” David Linton said. “The stock are + doing all right; as long as they have plenty of good water at this time of + the year they won't ask you for green grass.” He gave a low chuckle. “You + wouldn't think this was bad feed if you had seen the country in the + drought years—why, the paddocks were as bare as the palm of your + hand. Now you've grass, as you say yourself, like a crop.” He looked at it + critically. “I could wish you hadn't as much; fires will be a bit of an + anxiety later on.” + </p> + <p> + “Grass fires?” queried Bob. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. There's not enough timber here to have a real bush fire. But this + grass is dry enough now, and by February it will go like tinder if any + fool swagman drops a match carelessly. However, you'll just have to keep + your eyes open. Luckily, your creek can't burn—you'll always have so + much safeguard, because your stock could take to it; and that row of + willows along the bank would check any grass fire.” + </p> + <p> + “My word, wouldn't a fire race across the Billabong plains this year!” + said Wally. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it would certainly travel,” agreed Mr. Linton. “Well, we've ploughed + fire-breaks, and burned round the house, and we can only hope for good + luck. You'd better burn a break round your house soon, Bob.” + </p> + <p> + “Bill was saying so only this morning,” Bob answered. “I nearly chucked + the races and stayed at home to do it—only I was afraid it might get + away from me single-handed, and I couldn't very well keep Bill at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, time enough,” the squatter said lightly. “You're not so dry as we + are, and we only burned last week.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll come over and help you to-morrow, if you like,” Jim said. “Wally + wants work; he's getting too fat. A little gentle exercise with a racing + fire on a hot day would be the very thing for him. We'll come and burn off + with you, and then have a bathing party in the creek, and then you and + Tommy must come back to tea with us.” Which was a sample of the way much + of the work was done on the Creek Farm. It had never occurred to the two + Rainhams that life in Australia was lonely. + </p> + <p> + The road to Cunjee was usually bare of much traffic, but on the one race + day of the year an amazing number of vehicles were dotted along it, light + buggies, farm wagonettes, spring carts and the universal two-wheeled + jinker, all crammed with farmers and settlers and their families. Wives, a + little red-faced and anxious, resplendent in their Sunday finery, kept a + watchful eye on small boys and girls; the boys in thick suits, the girls + with white frocks, their well-crimped hair bearing evidence of intense + plaiting overnight. Hampers peeped from under the seats, and in most cases + a baby completed the outfit. Now and then a motor whizzed by, leaving a + long trail of dust-cloud in its wake, and earning hearty remarks from + every slower wayfarer. There were riders everywhere, men and women—most + of the latter with riding-skirts slipped on over light dresses that would + do duty that night at the concert and the dance that was to follow. + Sometimes a motor-cycle chugged along, always with a girl perched on the + carrier at the back, clinging affectionately to her escort. As Cunjee drew + nearer and the farms closer together the crowd on the road increased, and + the dust mounted in a solid cloud. + </p> + <p> + The Billabong people drew to one side, as close as possible to the fence, + cantering over the short, dusty grass. It was with a sigh of relief that + Jim at last pointed out a paddock across which buggies and horsemen were + making their way. + </p> + <p> + “There's the racecourse,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Racecourse!” Tommy ejaculated. “But it just looks like an ordinary + paddock.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all it is,” said Jim, laughing. “You didn't expect a grand-stand + and a lawn, did you? Cunjee is very proud of itself for having a turf club + at all, and nobody minds anything as long as they get an occasional + glimpse of the horses.” + </p> + <p> + “But where do they run?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the track goes in and out among the trees. There's some talk of + clearing it before the next meeting by means of a working bee. But they + won't worry if it doesn't get done—every one will come and have a + picnic just the same. You see, there are only two days in the year when a + bush place can really let itself go—Show day and Race day. Show day + is more serious and business-like, but Race day is a really light-hearted + affair, and the horses don't matter to most of the people.” + </p> + <p> + They turned into a gate where two men were busily collecting shillings and + keeping a wary eye lest foot passengers should dodge in through the fence + without paying. There were no buildings at all in the bush paddock in + which they found themselves. It lay before them, flat, save for a rise + towards the southern boundary, where already the crowd was thickening, and + sparsely timbered. As they cantered across it they came to a rough track, + marked out more or less effectively by pink calico flags nailed to the + trees. + </p> + <p> + “That's the racing track,” Wally said. “Let's ride round it, and we'll + have a faint idea of what the horses are doing later on.” + </p> + <p> + They turned along the track, where the grass had been worn by horses + training for the races during the few weeks preceding the great day. The + trees had been cleared from it, so that it was good going. In shape it was + roughly circular, with an occasional dint or bulge where a big red gum had + been too tough a proposition to clear, and the track had had to swing + aside to avoid it—a practice which must, as Jim remarked, make + interesting moments in riding a race, if the field were larger than usual + and the pace at all hot. Presently they emerged from the timber and came + into the straight run that marked the finish—running along the foot + of the southern rise, so that, whatever happened in the mysterious moments + in the earlier parts of a race, the end was within full view of the crowd. + The winning-post was a sawed-off sapling, painted half-black and + half-white; opposite to it was the judge's box, a huge log which made a + natural grand-stand, capable of accommodating the racing committee as + well. Behind, a rough wire fence enclosed a small space known as the + saddling paddock. The crowd picked out its own accommodation—it was + necessary to come early if you wanted a good place on the rise. Already it + was dotted with picnic parties, preparing luncheon, and a procession of + men and boys, bearing teapots and billies, came and went about a huge + copper, steaming over a fire, where the racing club dispensed hot water + free of charge, a generosity chiefly intended to prevent the casual + lighting of fires by the picnickers. All over the paddock people were + hastening through the business of the midday meal; the men anxious to get + it over before the real excitement of the day began with the racing, the + women equally keen to feed their hungry belongings and then settle down to + a comfortable gossip with friends perhaps only seen once or twice in the + twelve months. Children tore about wildly, got in the way of buggies and + motors, climbed trees and clustered thickly round any horse suspected of + taking part in the racing. More than one candidate for a race appeared on + the course drawing a jinker; and, being released from the shafts, was + being vigorously groomed by his shirt-sleeved owner. + </p> + <p> + “There's an awful lot to see!” ejaculated Tommy, gazing about her. + </p> + <p> + “That is if you've eyes,” Jim said. “But most of it can be seen on foot, + so I vote Wally and Bob and I take the horses and tie them up while + there's still a decent patch of shade left for them to stand in—every + tree in the paddock will have horses tied to it before long. Do you know + where Evans was to leave the buggy, Dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—it's under a tree over there,” said his father, nodding towards + a bushy clump of wattles. “I told him to pick out a good shady place for + lunch. We'll go on and get ready, boys. I'll take the teapot for hot + water.” + </p> + <p> + “Not you!” said Jim. “We'll be back in a few minutes and can easily get + it. Just help the girls with the things, Dad, and we'll get lunch over; + I'm as hungry as a hawk.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not hungry,” said Norah. “But I want, oh! gallons of tea.” + </p> + <p> + Tea seemed the main requirement of everybody. It was almost too hot to + eat, even in the deep shade of the wattles. The boys, taught by the war to + feed wherever and whenever possible, did some justice to Brownie's hamper; + but Mr. Linton soon drew aside and lit his pipe at a little distance, + while Tommy and Norah nibbled tomato and lettuce sandwiches, kept fresh + and cool by being packed in huge nasturtium leaves, and drank many cups of + tea. Then they lay under the trees until a bell, ringing from the saddling + paddock, hinted that the first race was at hand. There was a surge of + people towards the rise. + </p> + <p> + “Come on,” Jim said, jumping up. “Help me to stow these things in the + buggy, Wally—we'll want most of them for afternoon tea later on. + Then we might as well go and see the fun. You girls rested?” + </p> + <p> + They were, they declared; and presently they set off towards the rise. + Already the horses were appearing on the track, most of the jockeys + wearing silk jackets and caps, although a few were content with doffing + coat and waistcoat, and riding in blue and pink shirts—occasionally, + but not always, complete with collar and tie. The horses were a mixed lot; + some bore traces of birth and breeding, but the majority were just + grass-fed horses from the neighbouring farms and stations, groomed and + polished in a way that only happened to them once a year. The well-bred + performers were handicapped with heavy weights, while the others had been + let off lightly, so that all had a chance. + </p> + <p> + “Billabong has a horse running to-day—did you know?” Jim inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No!” Tommy looked up, dimpling with interest. “But how exciting, Jim. Is + it yours?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” Jim shook his head. “I won't enter a horse if I can't ride him + myself, and of course I'm too heavy. He belongs to the station, but he's + always looked upon as Murty's, and black Billy's going to ride him. He's + in the Hurdle Race.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think he has any chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he can gallop and jump all right,” Jim said. “But he hasn't had + much training, and whether he'll jump in company is open to doubt. But I + don't think he'll disgrace us. You've seen Murty riding him—a big + chestnut with a white blaze.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—he calls him Shannon, doesn't he?” said Tommy. “I saw him + jump three fences on him last time we were out mustering with your people. + He's a beauty, Jim.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he's pretty good. Murty thinks he's better than Garryowen, but I + don't,” Jim observed. + </p> + <p> + “If the Archangel Gabriel turned into a horse you wouldn't think he was up + to Garryowen!” said Wally. + </p> + <p> + “No, and he probably wouldn't be,” said Jim, laughing. “If you begin life + as an archangel, how would you settle down to being a horse after?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it needs practice,” Wally admitted. “Look out—here they + come!” + </p> + <p> + The horses were coming down the straight in their preliminary canter, and + the crowd abandoned the business of picnicking and turned its attention to + the first race. The riders, mostly local boys, looked desperately serious, + and, as they pulled up after their canter, and turning, trotted slowly + back past the rise, shouts of warning and encouragement and instruction + came to them—from the owners of their mounts—which had the + effect of making the boys look yet more unhappy. A bookmaker, the sole + representative of his profession, yelled steadily from under a lightwood + tree; those who were venturesome enough to do business with him were + warned solemnly by more experienced men to keep a sharp look-out that he + did not get away with their money before the end of the day. + </p> + <p> + “That happened in Cunjee some years ago,” said Mr. Linton. “A bookmaker + appeared from goodness knows where, and struck a very solid patch of bad + luck. All the district seemed to know how to pick winners that day, and he + lost solidly on every race. He plunged a bit on the fourth race, hoping to + get his money back; but that was worse still, and when he saw the + favourite winning, he knew he had no hope of settling up. So he quietly + collected his horse, which he had tied up in a convenient place, in case + it was wanted in a hurry, and made tracks before the race finished.” + </p> + <p> + “What happened to him?” asked Bob. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Linton chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he added considerably to the excitement of the day. Some one saw + him going, and passed the word round, and every man to whom he owed money—and + they were many—ran for his horse and went after him. He had a good + start, and no one knew what road he would take, so it was quite a cheery + hunt. I think it was Dave Boone who tracked him at last, and he paused at + a cross-roads, and coo-eed steadily until he had a number of followers. + Then they set sail after the poor bookie, and caught him about seven or + eight miles away. They found he had practically no money—not nearly + enough to divide up; so they took what he had and presented it to the + Cunjee Hospital, and finished up the day happily by tarring and feathering + the bookie, and riding him on a fence rail round Cunjee that night!” + </p> + <p> + “What do your police do in a case like that?” Bob asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's only one policeman in Cunjee, and, being a wise man, he + went to the concert, and probably enjoyed himself very much,” said Mr. + Linton, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “And what happened to the bookie?” + </p> + <p> + “Just what you might expect—the boys got sorry for him, made a + collection for him, bought him some cheap clothes—I believe they + didn't err on the side of beauty!—and shipped him off to Melbourne + by the first train in the morning. I don't think he'll try his artful + dodges on this section of the bush again; and it has made all the boys + very watchful about betting, so it wasn't a bad thing, on the whole. They + think they know all about the ways of the world now. Look, Tommy—the + horses are off! Watch through the trees, and you'll get a glimpse + presently.” + </p> + <p> + The gay jackets flashed into view in a gap in the timber, and then were + lost again. Soon they came in sight once more and rounded the last curve + into the straight, amid shouts from the crowd. They came up the straight, + most of the jockeys flogging desperately, while everyone rushed to get as + near the winning-post as possible. Hats were flung in the air and yells + rose joyfully, as a Cunjee boy, riding a desperate finish, got his horse's + nose in front in the last couple of lengths and won cleverly. + </p> + <p> + “She's excited!” said Wally, looking down at Tommy's flushed face. + </p> + <p> + “I should think so,” said Tommy. “Why, it was dreadfully exciting. I'd + love to have been riding myself.” At which everyone laughed extremely, and + a tall young stockman from a neighbouring station, overhearing, was so + impressed that he hovered as near as possible to Tommy for the rest of the + day. + </p> + <p> + The next event was the Hurdle Race, and interest for the Linton party + centred in the candidate described on the race-card as Mr. M. O'Toole's + Shannon. Nothing further could be done for Shannon—he was groomed + until the last hair on his tail gleamed; but black Billy, resplendent in a + bright green jacket and cap, the latter bearing an embroidered white + shamrock, became the object of advice and warning from every man from + Billabong, until anyone except Billy would probably have turned in wrath + upon the multitude of his counsellors. Billy, however, had one refuge + denied to most of his white brothers. He hardly ever spoke; and if some + reply was absolutely forced upon him, he merely murmured “Plenty!” in a + vague way, which, as Wally said, left you guessing as to his meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, lave off badgerin' the boy,” said Murty at last, brushing aside + Dave Boone and Mick Shanahan, and the other Billabong enthusiasts. “If he + listens to the lot of ye anny longer he won't know whether he's ridin' a + horse or an airyplane. There's only wan insthruction to be kapin' in your + head, Billy—get to the front an' stay there. Ridin' a waitin' race + is all very well on the flat, but whin it comes to jumpin', anything + that's in front of ye is apt to turn a somersault an' bring ye down in a + heap.” + </p> + <p> + “Plenty!” agreed Billy; and lit a cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Shannon don't like anny other horse in front of him at all,” went on + Murty. “He's that full of pride he never tuk kindly to bein' behind, not + since he was bruk in. He'll gallop like a machine an' lep like a deer if + he gets his head.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't b'lieve you've much show, anyhow,” Dave Boone said. “There's that + horse from the hotel at Mulgoa—Blazer, they call him. He's done no + end of racin', and won, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, an' if he has, hasn't he the great weight itself to be carryin'?” + demanded Murty. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he's top weight, of course; but you're carryin' ever so much over + weight,” responded Mr. Boone. “If you'd put up a boy instead of Billy, you + could be pounds lighter.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, git away with your advisin',” replied Murty. “Billy knows the horse—an' + where'd a shlip of a boy be if Shannon cleared out with him? I'd rather + carry too much weight, an' know I'd put a man up as could hold the horse.” + His anxious eye fell on the girls. “Miss Norah and Miss Tommy!—come + here an' wish him luck without offerin' me any advice, or I'll lose me + life over the ould race! They have desthroyed me with all the things + they're afther tellin' me to do.” + </p> + <p> + “We won't tell you a thing, Murty—except that he's looking + splendid,” Norah said, stroking Shannon's nose, to which the horse + responded by nuzzling round her pocket in search of an apple. “No, I can't + give you one, old man—I wouldn't dare. But you shall have one after + the race, whether you win or not, can't he, Murty?” + </p> + <p> + “He can so,” said Murty. “Wance he's gone round that thrack he can live on + the fat of the land—an' Billy, too. It's a dale aisier to get the + condition off a horse than off Billy. No man on this earth 'ud make a + black fellow see why he shouldn't have a good blow-out whenever it came + his way. Only that Providence made him skinny by nature, he'd be fat as a + porpoise this day. I've been watchin' over his meals like a mother with a + delicate baby these three weeks back; but what hope 'ud I have with + Christmas comin' in the way? He got away on me at Christmas dinner, an' + what he didn't ate in the way of turkey an puddin' wouldn't be worth + mentioning—an' him booked to ride to-day! 'Plenty' always did be his + motter, an' he lives up to it. So he's pounds overweight, an' no help for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Murty,” Jim said. “He knows the horse, and Shannon's able to + stand a few pounds extra. He'll give us a good run.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe ye, Masther Jim,” said Murty, beaming. “He'll not disgrace us, + an' if he don't win itself, then he'll not be far behind. There you are, + Billy—that's the bell for weighin'. Hurry up now, and get over to + the scales.” + </p> + <p> + The black boy's lean figure, saddle and bridle on arm, threaded its way + through the crowd round the weighing enclosure—a little space fenced + off by barbed wire. Presently they saw him coming back grinning. + </p> + <p> + “That pfeller sayin' I plenty too much pounds,” he said in an unusual + burst of eloquence. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, don't be rubbin' it in—don't I know it?” quoth Murty, taking + the saddle and slipping it deftly on Shannon's back. “I dunno, did he + think he was givin' me a pleasant surprise with the information by way of + a New Year's gift. Does he think we've never a scales on Billabong, did ye + ask him? There now, he's ready. Get on him, Billy, an' shove out into the + track for a canter. I'll get nothing but chat from every one as long as + you're here. Take him for a look at some of the hurdles, the way he'll + know all about them when he comes to jump.” He stood with a frown on his + good-humoured face as Shannon and his rider made off. + </p> + <p> + Norah laid a hand on his arm. + </p> + <p> + “There's not a horse on the course better turned out, Murty,” she said. + “No one can say the Billabong representative doesn't look fit.” + </p> + <p> + Murty turned on her, beaming again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, indeed, he'll not be doin' the station any discredit, Miss Norah,” + he said happily, “an' if he don't win, well, we can't all be winnin', can + we? Only we did win a race last year, whin none of ye were here to be + watchin' us an' make it worth while. I'd like to score to-day, now that + ye're all here to see—an' Miss Tommy too, that's never seen racin'.” + He smiled down at the English girl's pink face. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to see you win to-day, Murty—I feel it in my bones,” said + Tommy promptly. “I've always loved Shannon, ever since I saw you jump + those big fences with him when we put up the hare out mustering.” + </p> + <p> + “Yerra, that one'd make a steeplechaser if he got the trainin',” declared + Murty, all his troubles forgotten. “Come a little higher up, won't ye, + Miss Norah; we can see every jump from the top of the rise, barrin' the + wan that's in the timber.” + </p> + <p> + They followed him up the little hill until he declared himself satisfied + with his position; and he spent the time until the flag fell in pointing + out to Tommy the exact places where the hurdles were erected—pausing + only for a proud look when Shannon thundered past below them in his + preliminary canter, the green jacket bright in the sun, and every muscle + in the horse's gleaming body rippling as he moved. He was reefing and + plunging in his gallop, trying to get his head; but Billy soon steadied + him, and presently brought him up the straight again at a quiet trot. The + other horses went out, one by one, until at length a field of eight faced + the starter; and presently they were off, and over the first jump in a + body. They came down the straight on the first time round, packed closely, + a glittering mass of shining horses and bright colours. One dropped at the + jump near the judge's box, and as the other horses raced away round the + turn the riderless horse followed, while his jockey lay still for a + moment, a little scarlet blur upon the turf. Eager helpers ran forward to + pick him up, but he was on his feet before they could reach him, and came + limping up the hill, a little bruised and infinitely disgusted. + </p> + <p> + “He's all right,” Murty said. “Yerra, Mr. Jim, did ye see the ould horse + jump! He wint ahead at his fences like a deer!” + </p> + <p> + The horses were in the timber; they peered anxiously at the bright patch + of colour that showed from time to time, trying to see the familiar green + jacket. Then, as the field came into view Murty uttered an irrepressible + yell, for his horse shot ahead at the next jump and came into the straight + in the lead. Murty gripped at the nearest object, which happened to be + Norah's shoulder, and clenched it tightly, muttering, in his excitement, + words in his native Irish. They thundered up the straight, Billy crouching + on Shannon's neck, very still. Then behind him the Mulgoa horse drew out + from the ruck and came in chase. Nearer and nearer he came, while the + shouts from the crowd grew louder. Up, up, till his nose was at Shannon's + quarter—at his girth—at his shoulder, and the winning-post was + very near. Then suddenly Billy lifted his whip and brought it down once, + and Shannon shot forward with a last wild bound. Murty's hat went up in + the air—and Wally's with it. + </p> + <p> + “He's done it!” Murty babbled. “Yerra, what about Billabong now?” He + suddenly found himself gripping Norah's shoulder wildly, and would have + apologized but that Norah herself was dancing with delight, and looking + for his hand to grasp. And the crowd was shouting “Shannon! Shannon! + Billabong!”—since all of these Cunjee folk loved Billabong and were + steadily jealous of Mulgoa. Jim and Wally were thumping Murty on the back. + Bob and Mr. Linton stood beaming at him. Below them Billy came trotting + back on his victorious steed, sitting with a grave face, as expressionless + as if he had not just accomplished his heart's desire. But his dark, + mysterious eyes scanned the crowd as he turned from weighing in, and only + grew satisfied when he saw the Billabong party hurrying to greet him. They + shook his hand, and smote him on the back, Dave Boone and Mick Shanahan + prancing with joy. And Shannon, his glossy coat dark with sweat, nuzzled + again at Norah's pocket for an apple—and this time got it. + </p> + <p> + This glorious event over, interest became focused on a trotting race, + which brought out a queer assortment of competitors, ranging from King + Lightfoot, a horse well known in Melbourne, to Poddy, an animal apparently + more fitted to draw a hearse than to trot in a race—a lean, + raw-boned horse of a sad countenance and a long nose, with a shaggy black + coat which rather resembled that of a long-haired Irish goat. There were + other candidates, all fancied by their owners, but the public support was + only for King Lightfoot, who ran in elaborate leather and rubber harness, + and was clearly regarded by his rider as of infinite condescension to be + taking part in such a very mixed company. + </p> + <p> + It proved, however, not to be King Lightfoot's lucky day. The horses + started at intervals, according to their performances or merit, Poddy + being the first to move, the Melbourne horse the last. King Lightfoot, + however, obstinately refused to trot, whereas Poddy revealed unexpected + powers, flinging his long legs abroad in a whirlwind fashion, and pounding + along doggedly, with his long nose outstretched as if hoping to get it + past the winning-post as soon as possible. No other horse came near him; + his initial lead was never lessened, and he plugged doggedly to victory, + while the crowd roared with laughter, and out in the timber King + Lightfoot's rider wrestled with his steed in vain. Later, his prejudice + against trotting in the bush removed by stern measures, King Lightfoot + flashed up the track like a meteor, with his furious rider determined to + show something of what his steed could do. By that time Poddy was once + more unsaddled, and was standing under a tree with his weary nose drooping + earthwards, so that the crowd merely yelled with laughter anew, while the + stewards unfeelingly requested the Melbourne man to get off the track. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, isn't it hot!” Norah fanned herself with a bunch of gum leaves, and + cast an anxious look at Tommy. + </p> + <p> + It was breathlessly hot. Not a hint of air stirred among the trees or + moved the long dry grass that covered the paddock—now showing many + depressions, where tired people or horses had lain down to rest. The + horses stood about, drooping their heads, and swishing their tails + ceaselessly at the tormenting flies; men and women sought every available + patch of shade, while dogs stretched themselves under the buggies, + panting, with lolling tongues. Children alone ran about, as though nothing + could mar their enjoyment; but babies fretted wearily in their mothers' + arms. Overhead the sun blazed fiercely in a sky of brass. Now and then + came a low growl of thunder, giving hope of a change at night; but it was + very far distant, although a dull bank of cloud lay to the west. David + Linton watched the cloud a little uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “I don't quite like the look of it,” he muttered to himself. “I'll go and + ask Murty what he thinks of it.” But Murty had been swallowed up in a + crowd anxious to congratulate him on Shannon's success, and his employer + failed to find him at the moment. He came upon Sarah, however—sitting + under a tree, with her baby wailing dismally. + </p> + <p> + “To hot for her, Sarah,” David Linton said kindly. + </p> + <p> + “That's right, sir—it's too hot for anyone, let alone a little tiny + kid,” Sarah said wearily. “I'd get Bill to go home if I could, but I can't + get on his tracks—and it's too hot to take baby out in the sun + looking for him. If you come across him, sir, you might tell him I want + him.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the squatter. “But you wouldn't take that long drive + home yet, Sarah—better wait until the sun goes down.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'd go into Cunjee, to me sister-in-law's,” said Sarah. “She'd let + me take baby's things off an' sponge her—an' I'd give a dollar to do + it. No more races with kids for me in weather like this!” She crooned to + the fretting baby as Mr. Linton went off. + </p> + <p> + He found Tommy and Norah together under a tree near the track—hot, + but interested. + </p> + <p> + “Where are the boys?” + </p> + <p> + “They're all holding ponies,” Norah said. “I don't quite know why, but a + very hot and worried man collected them to help start the race. What is it + for, Dad, do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see!” David Linton laughed. “It's—a distance handicap—the + ponies all start at the same moment, but from different points along the + track.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that must be it,” Norah said. “Jim's away over near the timber with + a little rat of a pony, and Bob is shepherding another fifty yards behind + him, while Wally is quite near here with that big pony of the blacksmith's + that has won ever so many races. She'll have a lot of ground to make up. + But why must each one be shepherded, Dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Human nature,” said David Linton, smiling. “These youngsters who are + riding would sneak a yard or two if they weren't closely watched, and they + would never start fair; the only way is to put each in charge of a + responsible man with a good watch, and let him start them. What time is + the race? Oh, four o'clock. Well, I never yet saw a pony race that started + on time; neither the ponies nor the boys are easy to handle, and I see + there are ten of them. Watch them; it's after four, and they must be + nearly ready to start.” + </p> + <p> + The ponies were strung out round the course, each with a “shepherd” + standing to attention near its bridle, watch in hand. They could see Jim's + great form standing sentinel over a tiny animal, whose diminutive rider + was far too afraid of the huge Major to try to snatch even a yard of + ground; nearer, Wally kept a wary eye on the experienced jockey on the + blacksmith's racing mare, who was afraid of nothing, but nevertheless had + a certain wholesome respect for the tall fellow who lounged easily against + a tree near him, but never for an instant shifted his gaze. The shepherds + were waiting for a signal from the official starter. + </p> + <p> + It came presently, a long shrill whistle, and simultaneously each guardian + stepped back, and the released ponies went off like a flash—all save + Bob's charge, who insisted on swinging round and bolting in the wrong + direction, while his jockey sawed at his mouth in vain. Yawing across the + track the rebel encountered the blacksmith's pony, who swerved violently + in her swift course to avoid him, and lost so much ground that any chance + she had in the race was hopelessly lost, whereat the blacksmith, who was + standing on the hill, raved and tore his hair unavailingly. A smart little + bay pony fought out the finish with Jim's tiny charge, and was beaten by a + short head, just as Wally, walking quickly, came back to his party. + </p> + <p> + “That was a great race,” said Norah. “Wally, you shouldn't walk so fast on + such a day. It makes one warm only to look at you.” + </p> + <p> + Wally answered with an absent air that was unlike his usual alertness. The + girls, watching the ponies come in, noticed nothing, and presently he drew + Mr. Linton aside. + </p> + <p> + “Did you notice that cloud, sir?” he asked, in a low voice. “I didn't + until I was down on the track with the pony, looking in that direction. + But it's twice the size it was when I went down.” + </p> + <p> + “I've been looking at it, and I don't like it,” said Mr. Linton. “It's + smoke, I'm positive, and too near Billabong and the Creek to be + comfortable. I think we'll make tracks for home, Wally. Have you seen + Murty anywhere?” + </p> + <p> + As if in answer, Mr. O'Toole came running down the hill. + </p> + <p> + “I've been huntin' ye's everywhere,” he panted. “There's a man just kem + out from Cunjee lookin' for ye, sir—some one's tallyphoned in that + there's a big grass fire comin' down on the Creek, an' 'twill be a miracle + if it misses Billabong! I've told the men—they're off to get the + horses.” + </p> + <p> + Norah and Tommy had turned, with dismayed eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Will it be at our place, Murty?” Tommy asked. + </p> + <p> + “I dunno will it, Miss Tommy,” the Irishman answered. “But as like as not + 'twill miss it—or anyhow, we'll get there first, an' stop it doing + much damage. Don't you worry your little head, now.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up at him gratefully. Norah's hand was thrust through her arm. + </p> + <p> + “It may not be near the Creek at all, Tommy dear,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope it isn't—my poor old Bob!” Tommy said, under her breath. + “Can we hurry, Norah?” + </p> + <p> + “They're bringing the horses,” Norah answered. “We'll be off in a minute—see, + dad has gone to meet Bob.” + </p> + <p> + Wally had turned to Murty. + </p> + <p> + “Murty, do you mind if I ride Shannon and take him across country? I'm on + Marshal to-day, you know, and he can't jump for nuts. But Shannon can take + every fence between here and the Creek, and I can cut the distance in half + if I go across. I'm about the lightest of us, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “So ye are—an' the horse'll take ye like a bird,” said Murty. “Don't + shpare him, Mr. Wally, if ye think ye can do any good. He's over there + under the big wattle.” + </p> + <p> + “Right-o!” said Wally. “Tell Mr. Jim, will you, Murty?” He turned and ran + down the hill with long strides. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + HOW WALLY RODE A RACE + </h3> + <p> + Already the cloud was growing in the western sky—so high that it + threatened to obscure the sun that still blazed fiercely down. At first a + dull brown, there was a curious light behind it; at the edges it trailed + away into ragged wisps like floating mist. There was something + mysteriously threatening in its dense heaviness. + </p> + <p> + There were other men running for their horses, as Wally raced towards + Shannon. The news of a grass fire had spread quickly, and every man wanted + to be on his own property, for the whole countryside was covered with + long, dry grass, and no one could say where a fire might or might not end. + Boone and Shanahan passed Wally, leading several horses—his own + amongst them. They hailed him quickly. + </p> + <p> + “We've got Marshal, Mr. Wally.” + </p> + <p> + “Give him to Murty,” Wally answered as he ran. “I'm riding Shannon.” He + raced on. + </p> + <p> + “That means he's going across country,” said Dave Boone. “For two pins I'd + go too.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you—you'd never get your horse over them fences,” Shanahan + said. “An' it'll take Mr. Wally all his time to get across them wired + paddocks of Maclennan's. Hope he don't break Shannon's laigs.” + </p> + <p> + “Not he; Mr. Wally's no fool,” said Boone. “Git up, y' ol' sardine!” He + kicked the horse he was leading, and they trotted up to Norah and Tommy. + </p> + <p> + Shannon, standing with drooping head, showed little interest as Wally + flung the saddle on his back. He had won his race handsomely, and it was a + scorching day; possibly the big chestnut felt that no more should be + required of him; in which case he was soon to be rudely awakened. Wally + swung into the saddle with a quick movement, and turned him, not towards + the gate, but in the opposite direction, which further puzzled Shannon. + But he was a stock horse first and a hurdle racer as an afterthought; and + a good stock horse knows his rider's mind, if that rider is a good man. He + made one tentative movement towards his paddock mates, now moving away + towards the gate; then, feeling the touch of Wally's hand on the bit, and + the light pressure of his knee, he decided that some new game was on foot, + and cantered easily away. + </p> + <p> + They crossed the racing track, going westward over the big paddock, away + from the buggies and the crowd. A belt of timber checked their swift + progress a moment; then they came out into clear ground in sight of the + boundary fence, a stiff three-railer. Wally peered at it anxiously, + unable, for an instant, to see if there were a wire on top; but it was + clear, and he shook up his horse, putting him straight at the middle of a + panel. Shannon pricked his ears and flew it daintily—this was work + he loved, and hot though the day might be, he was ready for any amount of + it. Also Wally was lighter than Murty, his usual rider; and although he + loved Murty, and respected him greatly, this new man had a seat like a + feather and a hand gentle as silk upon his tender mouth. Shannon broke + into the gallop that he felt sure his rider wanted. + </p> + <p> + They were in a wide paddock, bare, save for a few clumps of timber, in the + shade of which sheep were thickly clustered. It was good, sound going, + with a few little rises; and, knowing that he would have to slacken speed + presently, Wally let the chestnut have his head across the clear grass. + They took the next fence and the next before he drew rein. He was in + country he did not know—all big farms, with many stubble fields with + newly erected stacks, and with good homesteads, where now and then a woman + peered curiously from a verandah at him. There were no men in sight; every + man in the neighbourhood was at the races on New Year's day. + </p> + <p> + He found himself in a paddock where rough ground, thickly strewn with + fallen timber, sloped down abruptly to a creek. Checking Shannon, he rode + more steadily down to the water, and trotted along the bank for a hundred + yards, looking for a good place to ford—the banks shelved abruptly + down, and the water was unusually deep. But the only promising fords were + too thickly snagged to be tempting; and presently, with a shrug, Wally + gave up the quest, and choosing a place where the fall of the bank was a + shade less abrupt, he put the horse at it. + </p> + <p> + Shannon hesitated, drawing back. Water was the one thing to which he had + not been schooled on Billabong, and this place was mysterious and deep. + But Wally's hand was firm, and he spoke sharply—so that the chestnut + repented of the error of his ways, and plunged obediently downwards. The + bank gave under them, and they slithered down among its remnants and + landed in the water with a profound splash, almost hidden for a moment by + the spray that drenched Wally's thin silk coat and shirt. Shannon + floundered violently, and nearly lost his footing—and then, deciding + that this was an excellent entertainment on a hot day, he thrust his + thirsty nose into the water. Wally checked him after one mouthful. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry, old chap,” he said regretfully. “I'd like it as much as you. + But I can't let you have a drink just now.” + </p> + <p> + He pressed him on across the muddy stream, floundering over sunken logs, + slipping into holes, dodging half-concealed snags; and so they came to a + bank which scarcely seemed a possible place, so steep was it. But Wally + looked at the smoke-cloud, and grew desperate, and for the first time + touched Shannon with the spur; and the chestnut answered gamely, springing + at the bank and climbing almost like a cat. Twice it broke under him; the + third time he made some footing, and Wally suddenly flung himself from his + back, scrambling up ahead of him, and hauling at the bridle. Shannon + followed, floundering and snorting; desperately relieved to find himself + on firm ground again. Wally swung into the saddle and they galloped + forward. + </p> + <p> + The next two fences were log ones, and the chestnut took them almost in + his stride. Then Wally's lips tightened, for he saw a homestead that he + knew must be Maclennan's, the most prosperous farmer about; and Maclennan + had strong views on the subject of inflammable fences in a country so + liable to grass fires, and all his property was wire-fenced. The first + fence stretched before him, taut and well-strung; he looked up and down + its length in search of a gate, but there was none in sight. + </p> + <p> + “I could put my coat on the top wire for you to jump if it was a thick + one, old chap,” he told Shannon. “But a scrap of wet silk wouldn't be much + good to you. We'll have to chance a post.” + </p> + <p> + He drew rein, trotting up to the fence, where he let the horse put his + nose over a post—and set his lips again when he saw that the top + wire was barbed. + </p> + <p> + “Just you remember to pick up all your toes well, old man,” he said. + </p> + <p> + He trotted back a little way, and, turning, came hard at the fence, + putting Shannon directly at the post. This also was new to the chestnut; + but once, when a foal, he had been badly pricked on barbed wire, and, ever + since, one glance at its hideous spikes had been enough for him. Refusing + was out of the question—Wally was leaning forward, keeping him + absolutely straight, lifting him at the post with a little shout of + encouragement. He flew over it as if it had been a hurdle. Wally patted + his neck with a big sigh of relief. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, but I was scared for your legs, old man!” he said. + </p> + <p> + They galloped across a wide stubble field, while Wally's keen eyes + searched the fence for a gate. He caught sight of one presently, a stiff, + four-railed gate, considerably higher than the fence. High as it was, + Wally preferred it to barbed wire; and by this time he had a queer feeling + that no jump would prove too much for the big, honest chestnut, who was + doing so gamely everything that he was asked. Nor did Shannon disappoint + him; he rose at the gate cheerfully, and barely tipped it with one hind + foot as he cleared it. Wally fancied there was something of apology in the + little shake of his head as he galloped on. + </p> + <p> + “If I'd time to take you back over that you wouldn't lay a toe on it + again, I believe. Never mind, there's sure to be another.” + </p> + <p> + There was, and the chestnut flew it with never a touch. Maclennan's + paddocks were wide and well cleared—such galloping ground as Wally + dared not waste—and he took full advantage of them, leaving one + after another behind swiftly, to the beat of Shannon's sweeping stride. + Fence after fence the chestnut cleared, taking them cleanly, with his keen + ears pricked; never faltering or flagging as he galloped. Wally sat him + lightly, leaning forward to ease him, cheering him on with voice and + touch. Before him the cloud grew dense and yet more dense; he could feel + its hot breath now, although a bush-covered paddock ahead blocked the fire + itself from his immediate view. He had to choose between picking his way + through the trees or galloping round them; and chose the latter, since + Shannon showed no sign of fatigue. He put the last wire fence behind him + with a sigh of relief. A small farm with easy enough fences remained to be + crossed, and then he swung round the timber at top speed. Once round it, + he should come within view of the Rainhams' house. + </p> + <p> + He came into the open country, and pulled up with a shout of dismay. + Before him was the long line of timber marking the creek, but between lay + nothing but a rolling cloud of smoke, lit with flashes of flame. A hot + gust of wind blew it aside for a moment, and through it he caught a + glimpse of Creek Cottage, burning fiercely. Wally uttered a smothered + groan, and thrust Shannon forward, over the last fence, and up a little + lane that led near the Rainhams' back gate. + </p> + <p> + The paddock was nearly all on fire. It had started somewhere back in the + bush country, and had swept across like a wall, burning everything before + it. As Wally reached the gate, it was rolling away across the paddocks, a + sheet of flame, licking up the dry grass; leaving behind it bare and + blackened ground, with here and there a fence post, or a tree burning, + and, in the midst of its track, Creek Cottage wrapped in flames. + </p> + <p> + The boy slipped from his saddle and flung Shannon's bridle over the + gate-post. Then, as a thought struck him, he turned back and released him, + buckling the reins into one stirrup. + </p> + <p> + “I don't dare to tie you up, old man,” he said. “The beastly fire might + swing round. Go home, if you like. I can't take you across that hot + ground.” He gave the chestnut's neck a hasty pat; then, putting one hand + on the gate, he vaulted it cleanly and ran across the burnt ground. + </p> + <p> + The grass was yet smouldering; it broke away under his feet, crackling and + falling into black powder. He ran desperately, not feeling the burning + breath of the fire, in blind hope of being able to save something. The + house itself, he knew, was doomed; no fire-brigade could have checked the + flames which had laid hold of the flimsy weatherboard. The fire had + divided round it, checked a little by Tommy's flower-garden, which was + almost uninjured yet, and by Bob's rows of green vegetables which lay + singed and ruined; then, unable to wait, it had swept on its way through + the long dry grass, which carried it swiftly forward, leaving the burning + cottage and the green garden in the midst of a blackened waste. + </p> + <p> + The front verandah, and one side, were yet untouched, nor had the front + rooms caught. Wally raced through the garden and tried the front door. It + was locked. He sprang to the nearest window and smashed it with quick + blows from a hoe standing near; then, flinging up the sash, dived in. The + room was full of smoke, the heat stifling. It was Tommy's room. He + gathered up her little personal belongings from the dressing-table and + flung them on the quilt, following them with armfuls of clothes hastily + swept from shelves. A trunk, covered with a bright Navajo blanket, stood + near the window. He thrust it through to the verandah, and scrambled out + after it with the quilt and blankets bundled round the things he had + saved. Dragging them across the lawn, he thrust them under some green + bushes, and returned for the trunk. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you'll catch there,” he said, choking. “Wonder if I can + try another room?” + </p> + <p> + He had opened the door from Tommy's room into the hall, but the rush of + flame and smoke were so appalling that he had to shut it again quickly, + realizing that the draught only helped the fire. To break in by another + window was the only way. He smashed his way in to the other front room, + and hurriedly gathered up all he could. There was no time to save anything + heavy. His quick mind guided him to the things he knew Bob and Tommy + valued most—things that had been Aunt Margaret's in the past, that + spoke of their old happy life in France. He spread an embroidered cloth on + the floor and pitched his treasure trove into it—working feverishly, + choking and gasping, until the flames began to crackle through the wall, + and the ceiling above him split across. Then he plunged through the + window, and staggered across the lawn with his burden—falling beside + it at last, spent and breathless, his throat parched with smoke, and his + eyes almost sightless. But he picked himself up presently and went back. + All the rooms were blazing now. The side verandah had not yet caught, and + on it he saw an old oaken chest that did double duty as a seat and as a + wardrobe for Bob's spare clothes. The sight brought fresh energy back to + Wally. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove, there's old Bob's box!” he uttered. “I'll have to get that.” + </p> + <p> + He dragged it across the verandah and on to the path. It was cruelly + heavy. He had to stop and rest again and again; but still he struggled on, + a few yards at a time, until it, too, was in comparative safety. Then + there was nothing else that he could do but sit on the grass and watch the + gay little home that they had all loved as it fell into ruins. The flames + made mercifully short work of it; they roared and crackled and spat + wreathing fiery tongues round the chimneys and up and down the verandah + posts; shooting out of the broken windows and turning the white-painted + iron of the roof into a twisted and blackened mass. It fell in presently + with a deafening roar, bringing one chimney with it; and soon all that + Wally had to look at was a smouldering heap of coals, in the midst of + which one chimney stood, tottering and solitary, with the kitchen stove a + glowing mass of red-hot iron, and strangely contorted masses of metal that + once were beds. The boy uttered a groan. + </p> + <p> + “And they were so proud of it,” he said. “Poor souls—how are they + going to stick it?” + </p> + <p> + He got up presently and made his way round to the back. All the sheds and + buildings were burned; he turned with a shudder from where Bob's beloved + Kelpie had died at his post chained in helplessness. The metal parts of + the buggy, writhed into knots and tangles, lay in the ashes of the big + shed; beyond, the pigsty smouldered. + </p> + <p> + “They've gone, too, I suppose,” Wally said. “By George, where are all his + stock? They can't all be burned, surely.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing visible in the bare, black paddocks. He cast a wild look + round, and then made for the creek at a staggering run. The fire had died + away for lack of material as it neared the banks, for great willows + overhung them, a camping-ground for the stock all through the summer heat, + and the ground was always beaten hard and bare. Wally uttered a shout of + relief as he came to the trees. Below in the wide, shallow pools, all the + stock had taken refuge—carthorses and cows, sheep and pigs, all + huddled together, wild-eyed and panting, but safe. They stared up at + Wally, dumbly bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Poor brutes,” said Wally. “Well, you chose a good spot, anyhow. I say, + what a jolly good thing Bob let his pigs out. Poor old chap—he's not + broke yet.” He leaned against the gnarled trunk of a willow for a moment. + “Well, I suppose I'd better get up to the gate and tell them—it + won't do for Tommy to come on the ruins all of a sudden.” + </p> + <p> + But he realized, as he made his slow way up from the creek, that he was + too late. There was a little knot of horses beside the garden gate. His + eye caught the light linen habit coats that Tommy and Norah wore. They + were looking silently at the blackened heap of ashes, with the tottering + chimney standing gaunt in its midst, Bob's face grey under its coating of + smoky dust. Norah was holding Tommy's hand tightly. They did not hear + Wally as he came slowly across the black powder that had been grass. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose the stock have gone, too,” Bob said heavily. + </p> + <p> + “No, they haven't, old man,” Wally said. “I believe every head is safe; + they're in the creek.” + </p> + <p> + They turned sharply, and cried out at the sight of him—blackened and + ragged, his eyes red-rimmed in his grimy face, his hands, cut by the + broken window glass, smeared with dried blood. His coat and shirt, burnt + in a score of places, hung in singed fragments round him. There were great + holes burnt in his panama hat, even in his riding breeches. Jim flung + himself from his horse, and ran to him. + </p> + <p> + “Wal, old man! Are you hurt?” + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” said Wally briefly. “Only a bit singed. I say, you two, you + don't know how sorry I am. Tommy, I wish I could have got here in time.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to have got here in time to try, anyhow,” said Tommy, and her + lip trembled. “Are you sure you're not hurt, Wally?” She slipped from her + saddle, and came to him. “Were you in the fire?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm truly all right,” Wally assured her. He suddenly realized that he + had not known how tired he was; something in his head began to whirl + round, and a darkness came before his aching eyes. He felt Jim catch him; + and then he was sitting on the ground, propped against the fence, and + blinking up at them all, while indignantly assuring them that he had never + been better. + </p> + <p> + “Did you meet the fire? It was away from here before I got here.” + </p> + <p> + “It crossed the road in front of us,” Mr. Linton said. “There were a good + many men about by that time—we got it stopped before it reached + Elston's.” His pitying eyes went back to the brother and sister. Anxiety + for Wally had drawn them from their own disaster for a moment; now they + had moved away together, and stood looking at the ashes of their home, + where so many hopes were ashes, too. David Linton went over to them, and + put a hand on a shoulder of each. + </p> + <p> + “You're not to be down-hearted,” he said firmly. “It's bad enough, and + bitter enough—but it might be worse. The stock are safe, and the + land is there—one good shower will turn the paddocks green again. + Why, there's even most of your garden left, Tommy. And we'll build the + house and sheds better than before.” + </p> + <p> + “You're jolly good, Mr. Linton,” Bob said, with dry lips. “But we owe you + enough already.” + </p> + <p> + “If you talk that sort of nonsense, I'll be really annoyed,” David Linton + said. “Why, hard luck comes to all of us—we got burned out ourselves + once, didn't we, Norah?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather—and had to live in tents,” said Norah. “No, you'll have to + come back to us at Billabong until we build up the cottage again—oh, + and, Tommy darling, I've been lonesome for you!” She put a hand on Bob's + arm. “You won't worry, Bob? One bit of bad luck isn't going to beat you!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it won't,” Bob said slowly. “There's the insurance money, + anyhow. But it was the jolliest little home—and our very own. And I + was so jolly proud of being independent.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're that still,” Jim said. “This is a country where everybody + helps everybody else—because you and Tommy come to stay with us, and + run your stock for a while on Billabong until your own grass grows, that + isn't going to make you less independent. Wouldn't you do the same for us, + if we were in the same box?” + </p> + <p> + “That goes without saying—and I'm as grateful as I can be,” Bob + said. “But the cases are different. I'm deep enough in your debt, as it + is. I—” His lip quivered, and he turned away, staring at the ruins. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see any good arguing about it, at all events,” said Norah, + practically. “We're all hot and tired, and I vote we just get home and + have tea. We'll all feel better after a tub, and then we can begin to make + plans. Come on, Tommy dear, it's just lovely to think we're going to have + you.” + </p> + <p> + Bob stood with one hand on the scorched gate. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could have got here in time to get out a few things,” he + muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I did that,” said Wally, brightening. “I forgot, in the shock of + finding all Noah's Ark turned out in the creek. Come along, Tommy, and see + my little lot of salvage!” + </p> + <p> + He dragged himself up from the ground and seized Tommy's hand. They + trooped across the lawn. + </p> + <p> + “I saved the cuckoo clock and that set of Swiss bears,” said Wally. “And + lots of oddments from goodness knows where—the sort of thing you + can't buy in Cunjee. I expect I've hauled out all the things you wouldn't + have saved, Tommy, but you'll just have to let me down lightly—I'd + have made a shot for the beloved cake tins, only I hadn't time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Wally, you dear old idiot,” said Tommy. “And that's how you nearly + killed yourself.” They came in sight of Wally's heap of loot, and she + stopped in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Bob—just look!” + </p> + <p> + “By Jupiter!” said Bob, “you saved my old box! You old brick. How did you + manage it? Why, it weighs a ton!” + </p> + <p> + Tommy was on her knees by the bundles. “Look!” she said. “Look, Bobby! My + silver things—and all Aunt Margaret's, and my little jewel box. And + my clothes! How did you do it, Wally?” Suddenly her voice broke. She put + her head down on the bundle in a passion of sobs. + </p> + <p> + “That's the best thing she could do,” said David Linton gently. He turned + to Norah. “Let her cry—and bring her along presently, and we'll take + her home. Come along, boys, we'll get the horses and go and see Wally's + Noah's Ark.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + BUILDING UP AGAIN + </h3> + <p> + It was three months later, and Billabong lay in the peace of an exquisite + autumn evening. The orchard showed yellow and bronze against the green of + the pine trees; here and there oak and elm leaves fluttered down lazily + upon the lawn. The garden flamed with dahlias and asters, amidst which + Hogg worked contentedly. And there was utter content upon the face of + David Linton, as he stood on the broad stone steps of his home, and looked + towards the setting sun. Beyond the garden gleamed the reed-fringed waters + of the lagoon; further yet, the broad paddocks stretched away, dotted with + feeding Shorthorns. It was the view, of all others, that he loved—his + soul had longed for it during weary years of exile and war. Now, it seemed + that he could never tire of looking at it. + </p> + <p> + Brownie came up from the garden, a basket on her arm laden with splendid + mauve and pink asters. David Linton strolled across the gravel sweep to + meet her. + </p> + <p> + “What, Brownie—taking Miss Norah's job, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it ain't 'ardly that, sir,” Brownie answered. “Miss Norah she done + the vases this morning, same as ushul, an' Miss Tommy elpin' her. Only she + wouldn't pick these 'ere astors, 'cause they're 'Oggs best, an' she didn't + like to 'urt 'im; you see she always remembers that onst they go into the + 'ouse, 'Ogg, 'e don't see 'em no more. An' she do love 'em in the vases. + So I just put the matter sensible like to 'Ogg, an', of course, 'e saw + reason and give me 'alf; an' I'll 'ave 'em on the table to-night. Only + they've filled every vase in the house already, I believe I'll be druv to + puttin' 'em in Mason jars!” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Norah will love them, no matter what they're in,” said Mr. Linton. + “There's no sign of them yet, Brownie—it's nearly time they were + home.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they meant to 'ave a long day's work fixin' the 'ouse,” said + Brownie comfortably. “Mrs. Archdale druv me over to see them, an' Sarah + gave us all afternoon tea—she an' Bill are real toffs in their + little new cottage there. Sarah ain't indulgin' in any regrets over that + fire! And they were all busy as bees. Miss Tommy's room's fixed, an' her + little sleep-out place off it, and so's Mr. Bob's, an' they were workin' + at the drorin'-room; 'omelike it looked with all their nice old things in + it again.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure it will,” David Linton agreed. “How do you like the new house, + Brownie?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's lovely,” said Brownie. “An' a fair treat to work, with all them + new improvements—no corners to the rooms, an' no silly skirtin' + boards that'll catch dust, an' the water laid on everywhere, an' the air + gas, an' all them other patent fixings. An' so comferable; better than the + old one, any way you look at it. Miss Tommy's the lucky young lady to be + comin' in for such a place.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she deserves it, Brownie.” + </p> + <p> + “She do,” said Brownie heartily. “Ain't it lovely to see Miss Norah an' + 'er so 'appy together? Our blessed lamb never 'ad a friend like that + before, and she needed one—every girl do.” + </p> + <p> + “Long may it last, that's all I say,” agreed the squatter. “Norah needed + her badly, although she didn't know it. And she and her brother are the + best type of immigrants, aren't they?” + </p> + <p> + “They are that,” said Brownie, “always cheery, an' workin' 'ard, an' + takin' the ups and downs sensibly. Now, it was a real nasty knock to find + their nice little 'ome burnt down on New Year's day, but after the first + shock they never 'ung their lip at all—just bucked in to make good + again.” + </p> + <p> + She went on her way with her asters, and David Linton walked slowly across + the lawn and stood looking over the gate, along the track where his + children would come riding home. Somehow, he found it difficult not to + think of them all as his children. Wally had made an attempt to go away + and set up a place for himself, but the idea had been received with such + amazed horror by the whole household that it had been temporarily shelved. + After all, Wally had more money than was good for him, the result of + having always been an orphan. He could establish himself in a place at any + time if he wished. And meanwhile, he was never idle. David Linton had + handed over most of the outside management of the big run to Jim and his + mate. They worked together as happily as they had played together as boys. + There was time for play now, as well; Mr. Linton saw to that. The years + that they had left on Flanders fields were not to rob them of their + boyhood. + </p> + <p> + There had also been time to help the Rainhams—and there again the + district had taken a hand. It was not to be imagined that the people who + had helped in the first working bee would sit calmly by when so stupendous + a piece of bad luck as the New Year fire overtook the just established + young immigrants; and so there had been several other bees, to replace + Bob's burnt fencing, to clear away the ruins of the house and sheds, and, + finally, to rebuild for him. There had been long discussions at Billabong + over plans—the first Creek Cottage had taught them much of what was + desirable in the way of a house; so that the second Creek Cottage, which + rose from the ashes of the old one when kindly rains had drawn a green + mantle over all the blackened farm, was a very decided improvement upon + the old house, and contained so many modern ideas and “dodges” that the + wives and sisters of all the working bees, who helped to build it, came + miles to see it, and went home, in most cases, audibly wishing that they + could have a fire. It was illuminating, too, to the working bees, to see + how Bob and the Billabong men planned for the comfort of the women who + were to run the house, and for its easy working; so that presently a wave + of labour-saving devices swept through the Cunjee district in imitation, + and wives who had always carried buckets of water found taps conveniently + placed where they were needed, and sinks and draining racks built to ease + the dreary round of dish-washing, and air-gas plants established to + supersede the old kerosene lamps. After which the district was very much + astonished that it had not done it before. + </p> + <p> + The cottage was finished now, and nearly ready for its occupants; Bill, + Sarah and the baby had been installed for some time in a neat little + two-roomed place with a side verandah, a short distance from the main + building. Home-made furniture, even more ambitious than the first built, + had been erected, and a fresh supply of household goods bought during an + exciting week in Melbourne, where Mr. Linton had taken them all—all, + that is, but Bob, who had steadfastly declined to go away and play when + other people were helping him. So Bob had remained at his post, giving + Tommy a free hand as to shopping; a freedom cautiously used by Tommy, but + supplemented by the others with many gifts, both useful and idiotic. Tommy + had an abiding affection for the idiotic efforts. + </p> + <p> + She had spent so much time in the saddle that she now rode like an old + hand; the brown-faced girl who came up the paddock presently with the + cheery band of workers was very different to the pink and white “little + Miss Immigrant” of eight months before. She rode Jim's big favourite, + Garryowen, who, although years had added wisdom to him, was always + impatient when nearly home; he was reefing and pulling, as they swept up + at a hand gallop, but Tommy held him easily, and pulled up near Mr. + Linton, laughing. He looked at them with grave content. + </p> + <p> + “I began to think you meant me to have tea alone,” he said. “Have they + been doing any work, Bob, or couldn't you keep them in hand at all?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they've been working,” Bob answered. “I told Sarah not to give them + any afternoon tea if they didn't, and it acted like a charm.” + </p> + <p> + “You to talk!” said Norah, with tilted nose. “They said they'd sample the + new deck chairs, dad, and it took them about an hour to make sure if they + liked them—they just smoked while Tommy and I toiled.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you'd only have been annoyed with us if we hadn't done the sampling + properly, and had grumbled afterwards,” said Wally. “I'm always trying to + teach you to be thorough, Norah. Of course, they say they work all the + time, sir—but when they disappear into Tommy's room there's an awful + lot of talking.” + </p> + <p> + “There would be something wrong with them if there weren't,” said the + squatter sagely. “And I have no doubt there yet remains much awaiting + their expert supervision in Tommy's room.” Whereat Tommy and Norah beamed + at him, and commended him as a person of understanding, while Wally + remarked feelingly to Bob that there was no chance of justice where those + two females were concerned. At this point Jim observed that the + conversation showed signs of degenerating into a brawl, and that, in any + case, it was time the horses were let go. They trotted off to the stables, + a light-hearted body. + </p> + <p> + Tommy slipped her arm into Bob's as they went upstairs to dress. + </p> + <p> + “Come into my room and talk for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + He came in and sat down in a low chair by the window. + </p> + <p> + “Your quarters at the new place won't be as big as this, old girl.” + </p> + <p> + “They'll be bigger, for it will all be ours,” rejoined Tommy promptly. + “Who wants a big room, anyway? I don't. Bobby, I'd be hard to please if I + wanted more than I've got.” + </p> + <p> + “You're always satisfied,” he said. “There never was anything easier than + pleasing you, old Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + “Life's all so good, now,” she said. “No hideous anxiety about you—no + Lancaster Gate—no she-dragon. Only peace, and independence, and the + work we like. Aren't you satisfied, Bob?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to be really independent,” he said slowly. “Our amount of debt + isn't heavy, of course, and it doesn't cause real anxiety, with Mr. Linton + guaranteeing us to the bank—” + </p> + <p> + “And as we had to build again, it was worth while to improve the house and + make it just what we wanted,” Tommy added. “We'll pay the debt off, Bob. + Mr. Linton assures me that with ordinary seasons we should easily do it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, and I'm not anxious,” Bob said. “Only I'll be glad when it's + done; debt, even such an easy debt as this, gives me the creeps. And I + want to feel we stand on our own feet.” + </p> + <p> + “And not on the Lintons'!” said Tommy, laughing. “I quite agree—though + it's amazing to see how little they seem to mind our weight. Was there + ever such luck as meeting them, Bob?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” he agreed. “We'd have been wage-earners still, or struggling + little cocky farmers at the best, but for that letter of General Harran's—though, + I think more was due to the way you butted into their taxi!” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it was,” laughed Tommy. “It was the sort of thing to appeal to + the Lintons—it wouldn't to everybody. But the letter was behind it, + saying what a worthy young man you were!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when you start calling me such a thing as 'worthy,' it's time I + left and got dressed for tea,” said her brother, rising slowly. “English + mail ought to be in, by the way; I'm wondering what old Mr. M'Clinton will + say when he hears we were burned out in our first season.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll wish he'd sent us to the snows of Canada, where such things don't + happen on New Year's day,” Tommy said. “Still, he ought not to be anxious + about us—Mr. Linton wrote and told him our position was quite + sound.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't think he'll worry greatly,” said Bob. “I must hurry, old + girl, or I'll be late—and I want a tub before tea.” + </p> + <p> + The boys came down in flannels, ready for a game of tennis after tea; and + Bob and Wally were just leaving the court after a stoutly-contested set, + when black Billy brought the mail-bag across the lawn to Mr. Linton. The + squatter unlocked it and sorted out the letters quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing for you, Tommy; two for Norah; three for Bob, and bundles for + Wally and Jim. Papers beyond counting, and parcels you girls can deal + with.” He gathered up a package of his own letters. “Chiefly stock and + station documents—though, I see, there's a letter from your aunt, + Norah; I expect she's anxious to know when I'm going to cease bringing you + up like a boy, and send you to Melbourne to be a perfect lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her, never,” said Norah lazily. “I don't see any spare time ahead—not + enough to make me into a lady after Aunt Winifred's pattern. Cecil is much + more lady-like than I am.” + </p> + <p> + “He always was,” Jim said. “Years ago we used to wonder that he didn't + take to wool-work, and I expect he'll do it yet. Even serving in the war + didn't keep Cecil from manicuring his nails—he gets a polish on them + that beats anything I ever saw.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind—he's got a limp,” said Norah, in whose eyes that legacy + of the war covered a multitude of sins. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he has. But he even limps in a lady-like way,” grinned Jim. “And he + has no time for Wal and me. He told me that he was surprised that five + years of France and England hadn't made us less Australian.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a matter of regret to us all,” said Norah placidly. “We hoped for + great things when you came out—more attention to polite + conversation, and a passion for top-hats, and—” At which point + further eloquence was checked by a cushion placed gently, but firmly, by a + brotherly hand on her face, and so she subsided, with a gurgle of + laughter, into the cool depths of the buffalo grass where they were all + lying. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by Jove!” said Bob suddenly. He looked at them, and finally at Tommy, + his eyes dancing. + </p> + <p> + “What's up, old man?” Jim asked. “Not your stepmother coming out?” + </p> + <p> + “England couldn't spare her,” Bob said. “But the sky has fallen, for all + that. Just listen to old M'Clinton. + </p> + <p> + “'. . . It was with deep regret that I learned from you and from Mr. + Linton of the calamity which had befallen you on New Year's day. Such + disasters seem common in Australia, like blizzards in Canada, and I + presume every settler is liable to them. In your case your loss, being + partly covered by insurance, will not, Mr. Linton assures me, be crushing, + although it seems to me very severe. To have your initial endeavours, too, + handicapped by so calamitous an occurrence would have excused despondency, + but—'” + </p> + <p> + “Hasn't he a lovely style?” chuckled Wally, as the reader paused to turn + over. + </p> + <p> + “'But Mr. Linton assures me that you and your sister are facing the + situation with calmness and courage.' Did you know you were calmly + courageous, Tommy?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not,” said Tommy. “I am courageously calm. Go on, Bobby—my + calmness will waver if you don't get to the point. Where does the sky + fall?” + </p> + <p> + “Half a second. 'Further, I am immensely interested to learn from Mr. + Linton, who appears to be the kindest of benefactors'—that's you, + sir—'that the people of the district, who have already helped you so + remarkably by a working bee, are so much in sympathy with you both that + they intend again lending you their assistance over rebuilding your house. + This shows me, even without Mr. Linton's letter, that you have earned + their esteem and regard. Nevertheless, I estimate that you cannot fail to + be at some monetary embarrassment, and this I am luckily able to ease for + you. Certain rubber investments of your late aunt's have recently risen in + value, after the long period of depression due to the war; and I deemed it + prudent to sell them while their price in the market was high. The terms + of your aunt's will enable me to reinvest this money, amounting to a + little over nine hundred pounds, for you, or, at my discretion, to hand it + over to you; and such is the confidence I repose in you, after Mr. + Linton's letter, that I feel justified in remitting you the money, to use + as you think best. I presume that will be in the reduction of your + liabilities. I should like to think you had the benefit of Mr. Linton's + advice in the matter.' Shall I, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I never listened to such language,” returned the squatter. “I should like + it read three times a day, before meals. But if it's my advice you want, + Bob, you can have it. Meanwhile, I'm very glad for you to have such a + windfall, my boy.” + </p> + <p> + Tommy and Norah had collapsed on each other's shoulders, speechless. + </p> + <p> + “Joy never kills, they say,” said Wally, regarding them anxiously. “But + it's been known to turn the brain, when the brain doesn't happen to be + strong. Will we turn the hose on them, Jim?” + </p> + <p> + “Sit on him, Bob,” came faintly from Norah. + </p> + <p> + “I will—with the weight of nine hundred pounds!” said Bob—and + did so. + </p> + <p> + “Get off, you bloated capitalist,” said Wally, struggling. He succeeded in + dislodging him, with a mighty effort. “You're just purse-proud, that's + what's the matter with you. What'll you do with it, Bobby—go racing? + Or buy an aeroplane?” + </p> + <p> + “Get out of debt,” said Bob, sitting up with rumpled hair and a face like + a happy child's. “And there'll be a bit over to play with. What shall we + put it into, Tommy? Want any pretty things?” + </p> + <p> + “Just merino sheep,” said Tommy. + </p> + <p> + THE END <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Back To Billabong, by Mary Grant Bruce + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BACK TO BILLABONG *** + +***** This file should be named 7047-h.htm or 7047-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/0/4/7047/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +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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