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diff --git a/7807-h/7807-h.htm b/7807-h/7807-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..24d70bb --- /dev/null +++ b/7807-h/7807-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11168 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?> +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html> + +<head> +<title>The War Romance of the Salvation Army, by Evangeline Booth and Grace Livingston Hill</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + h1,h2,h3,h4 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-variant: small-caps } + h1 { margin-top: 2em } + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + img { width: 25%; border: 0 } + --> +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Georgina of the Rainbows, by Annie Fellows Johnston + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Georgina of the Rainbows + +Author: Annie Fellows Johnston + +Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7807] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 18, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEORGINA OF THE RAINBOWS *** + + + + +Produced by Curtis A. Weyant + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p align="center"><a href="images/image01.png"><img src="images/image01.png" alt="Georgiana of the Rainbows" /></a><br /> +Georgina of the Rainbows</p> + +<h1>Georgina of the Rainbows</h1> +<p align="center" class="smallcaps">by</p> + +<h2>Annie Fellows Johnston</h2> + +<h4>Author of Two Little Knights of Kentucky, The Giant Scissors, +The Desert of Waiting, Etc.</h4> + +<p align="center">“... _Still bear up and steer;<br /> right onward._” <span class="smallcaps">Milton</span></p> + +<p align="center">To<br /> +My Little God-daughter<br /> +“<span class="smallcaps">Anne Elizabeth</span>”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/image02.png"><img src="images/image02.png" alt="“At the Tip of Old Cape Cod.”" /></a><br /> +“At the Tip of Old Cape Cod.”</p> + +<h1>Contents</h1> + +<ol style="list-style-type: upper-roman"> + <li><a href="#ch_01">Her Earlier Memories</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_02">Georgina’s Playmate Mother</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_03">The Towncrier Has His Say</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_04">New Friends and the Green Stairs</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_05">In the Footsteps of Pirates</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_06">Spend-the-Day Guests</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_07">“The Tishbite”</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_08">The Telegram that Took Barby Away</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_09">The Birthday Prism</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_10">Moving Pictures</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_11">The Old Rifle Gives Up Its Secret</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_12">A Hard Promise</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_13">Lost and Found at the Liniment Wagon</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_14">Buried Treasure</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_15">A Narrow Escape</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_16">What the Storm Did</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_17">In the Keeping of the Dunes</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_18">Found Out</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_19">Tracing the Liniment Wagon</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_20">Dance of the Rainbow Fairies</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_21">On the Trail of the Wild-Cat Woman</a></li> + + <li><a href="#ch_22">The Rainbow Game</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_23">Light Dawns for Uncle Darcy</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_24">A Contrast in Fathers</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_25">A Letter to Hong-Kong</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_26">Peggy Joins the Rainbow-Makers</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_27">A Modern “St. George and the Dragon”</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_28">The Doctor’s Discovery</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_29">While They Waited</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_30">Nearing the End</a></li> + <li><a href="#ch_31">Comings and Goings</a></li> +</ol> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/image03.png"><img src="images/image03.png" alt="“As Long as a Man Keeps Hope at the Prow He Keeps Afloat.”" /></a><br /> +“As Long as a Man Keeps Hope at the Prow He Keeps Afloat.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/image04.png"><img src="images/image04.png" alt="“Put a Rainbow ’Round Your Troubles.”--Georgina." /></a><br /> +“Put a Rainbow ’Round Your Troubles.”--Georgina.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_01"></a>Chapter I</h1> +<h2>Her Earlier Memories</h2> + +<p>If old Jeremy Clapp had not sneezed his teeth into +the fire that winter day this story might have had +a more seemly beginning; but, being a true record, +it must start with that sneeze, because it was the +first happening in Georgina Huntingdon’s life +which she could remember distinctly.</p> + +<p>She was in her high-chair by a window overlooking +a gray sea, and with a bib under her chin, was being +fed dripping spoonfuls of bread and milk from the +silver porringer which rested on the sill. The bowl +was almost on a level with her little blue shoes which +she kept kicking up and down on the step of her high-chair, +wherefore the restraining hand which seized her ankles +at intervals. It was Mrs. Triplett’s firm hand +which clutched her, and Mrs. Triplett’s firm +hand which fed her, so there was not the usual dilly-dallying +over Georgina’s breakfast as when her mother +held the spoon. She always made a game of it, chanting +nursery rhymes in a gay, silver-bell-cockle-shell +sort of way, as if she were one of the “pretty +maids all in a row,” just stepped out of a picture +book.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett was an elderly widow, a distant relative +of the family, who lived with them. “Tippy” +the child called her before she could speak plainly--a +foolish name for such a severe and dignified person, +but Mrs. Triplett rather seemed to like it. Being +the working housekeeper, companion and everything +else which occasion required, she had no time to make +a game of Georgina’s breakfast, even if she had +known how. Not once did she stop to say, “Curly-locks, +Curly-locks, wilt thou be mine?” or to press +her face suddenly against Georgina’s dimpled +rose-leaf cheek as if it were somthing too temptingly +dear and sweet to be resisted. She merely said, “Here!” +each time she thrust the spoon towards her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett was in an especial hurry this morning, +and did not even look up when old Jeremy came into +the room to put more wood on the fire. In winter, +when there was no garden work, Jeremy did everything +about the house which required a man’s hand. +Although he must have been nearly eighty years old, +he came in, tall and unbending, with a big log across +his shoulder. He walked stiffly, but his back was as +straight as the long poker with which he mended the +fire.</p> + +<p>Georgina had seen him coming and going about the place +every day since she had been brought to live in this +old gray house beside the sea, but this was the first +time he had made any lasting impression upon her memory. +Henceforth, she was to carry with her as long as she +should live the picture of a hale, red-faced old man +with a woolen muffler wound around his lean throat. +His knitted “wrist-warmers” slipped down +over his mottled, deeply-veined bands when he stooped +to roll the log into the fire. He let go with a grunt. +The next instant a mighty sneeze seized him, and Georgina, +who had been gazing in fascination at the shower of +sparks he was making, saw all of his teeth go flying +into the fire. If his eyes had suddenly dropped from +their sockets upon the hearth, or his ears floated +off from the sides of his head, she could not have +been more terrified, for she had not yet learned that +one’s teeth may be a separate part of one’s +anatomy. It was such a terrible thing to see a man +go to pieces in this undreamed-of fashion, that she +began to scream and writhe around in her high-chair +until it nearly turned over.</p> + +<p>She did upset the silver porringer, and what was left +of the bread and milk splashed out on the floor, barely +missing the rug. Mrs. Triplett sprang to snatch her +from the toppling chair, thinking the child was having +a spasm. She did not connect it with old Jeremy’s +sneeze until she heard his wrathful gibbering, and +turned to see him holding up the teeth, which he had +fished out of the fire with the tongs.</p> + +<p>They were an old-fashioned set such as one never sees +now. They had been made in England. They were hinged +together like jaws, and Georgina yelled again as she +saw them all blackened and gaping, dangling from the +tongs. It was not the grinning teeth themselves, however, +which frightened her. It was the awful knowledge, +vague though it was to her infant mind, that a human +body could fly apart in that way. And Tippy, not understanding +the cause of her terror, never thought to explain that +they were false and had been made by a man in some +out-of-the-way corner of Yorkshire, instead of by +the Almighty, and that their removal was painless.</p> + +<p>It was several years before Georgina learned the truth, +and the impression made by the accident grew into +a lurking fear which often haunted her as time wore +on. She never knew at what moment she might fly apart +herself. That it was a distressing experience she knew +from the look on old Jeremy’s face and the desperate +pace at which he set off to have himself mended.</p> + +<p>She held her breath long enough to hear the door bang +shut after him and his hob-nailed shoes go scrunch, +scrunch, through the gravel of the path around the +house, then she broke out crying again so violently +that Tippy had hard work quieting her. She picked +up the silver porringer from the floor and told her +to look at the pretty bowl. The fall had put a dent +into its side. And what would Georgina’s great-great +aunt have said could she have known what was going +to happen to her handsome dish, poor lady! Surely +she never would have left it to such a naughty namesake! +Then, to stop her sobbing, Mrs. Triplett took one +tiny finger-tip in her large ones, and traced the +name which was engraved around the rim in tall, slim-looped +letters: the name which had passed down through many +christenings to its present owner, “Georgina +Huntingdon.”</p> + +<p>Failing thus to pacify the frightened child, Mrs. +Triplett held her up to the window overlooking the +harbor, and dramatically bade her “hark!” +Standing with her blue shoes on the window-sill, and +a tear on each pink cheek, Georgina flattened her +nose against the glass and obediently listened.</p> + +<p>The main street of the ancient seaport town, upon +which she gazed expectantly, curved three miles around +the harbor, and the narrow board-walk which ran along +one side of it all the way, ended abruptly just in +front of the house in a waste of sand. So there was +nothing to be seen but a fishing boat at anchor, and +the waves crawling up the beach, and nothing to be +heard but the jangle of a bell somewhere down the street. +The sobs broke out again. “Hush!” commanded +Mrs. Triplett, giving her an impatient shake. “Hark +to what’s coming up along. Can’t you stop +a minute and give the Towncrier a chance? Or is it +you’re trying to outdo him?”</p> + +<p>The word “Towncrier” was meaningless to +Georgina. There was nothing by that name in her linen +book which held the pictures of all the animals from +Ape to Zebra, and there was nothing by that name down +in Kentucky where she had lived all of her short life +until these last few weeks. She did not even know +whether what Mrs. Triplett said was coming along would +be wearing a hat or horns. The cow that lowed at the +pasture bars every night back in Kentucky jangled +a bell. Georgina had no distinct recollection of the +cow, but because of it the sound of a bell was associated +in her mind with horns. So horns were what she halfway +expected to see, as she watched breathlessly, with +her face against the glass.</p> + +<p>“Hark to what he’s calling!” urged +Mrs. Triplett. “A fish auction. There’s +a big boat in this morning with a load of fish, and +the Towncrier is telling everybody about it.”</p> + +<p>So a Towncrier was a man! The next instant Georgina +saw him. He was an old man, with bent shoulders and +a fringe of gray hair showing under the fur cap pulled +down to meet his ears. But there was such a happy twinkle +in his faded blue eyes, such goodness of heart in every +wrinkle of the weather-beaten old face, that even +the grumpiest people smiled a little when they met +him, and everybody he spoke to stepped along a bit +more cheerful, just because the hearty way he said +“_Good_ morning!” made the day +seem really good.</p> + +<p>“He’s cold,” said Tippy. “Let’s +tap on the window and beckon him to come in and warm +himself before he starts back to town.”</p> + +<p>She caught up Georgina’s hand to make it do +the tapping, thinking it would please her to give +her a share in the invitation, but in her touchy frame +of mind it was only an added grievance to have her +knuckles knocked against the pane, and her wails began +afresh as the old man, answering the signal, shook +his bell at her playfully, and turned towards the +house.</p> + +<p>As to what happened after that, Georgina’s memory +is a blank, save for a confused recollection of being +galloped to Banbury Cross on somebody’s knee, +while a big hand helped her to clang the clapper of +a bell far too heavy for her to swing alone. But some +dim picture of the kindly face puckered into smiles +for her comforting, stayed on in her mind as an object +seen through a fog, and thereafter she never saw the +Towncrier go kling-klanging along the street without +feeling a return of that same sense of safety which +his song gave her that morning. Somehow, it restored +her confidence in all Creation which Jeremy’s +teeth had shattered in their fall.</p> + +<p>Taking advantage of Georgina’s contentment at +being settled on the visitor’s knee, Mrs. Triplett +hurried for a cloth to wipe up the bread and milk. +Kneeling on the floor beside it she sopped it up so +energetically that what she was saying came in jerks.</p> + +<p>“It’s a mercy you happened along, Mr. +Darcy, or she might have been screaming yet. I never +saw a child go into such a sudden tantrum.”</p> + +<p>The answer came in jerks also, for it took a vigorous +trotting of the knees to keep such a heavy child as +Georgina on the bounce. And in order that his words +might not interfere with the game he sang them to the +tune of “Ride a Cock Horse.”</p> + +<blockquote>“There must have been--some--very good----<br /> + Reason for such--a hulla-ba-loo!”</blockquote> + +<p>“I’ll tell you when I come back,” +said Mrs. Triplett, on her feet again by this time +and halfway to the kitchen with the dripping floor +cloth. But when she reappeared in the doorway her +own concerns had crowded out the thought of old Jeremy’s +misfortune.</p> + +<p>“My yeast is running all over the top of the +crock, Mr. Darcy, and if I don’t get it mixed +right away the whole baking will be spoiled.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, ma’am,” +was the answer. “Go ahead with your dough. I’ll +keep the little lass out of mischief. Many’s +the time I have sat by this fire with her father on +my knee, as you know. But it’s been years since +I was in this room last.”</p> + +<p>There was a long pause in the Banbury Cross ride. +The Crier was looking around the room from one familiar +object to another with the gentle wistfulness which +creeps into old eyes when they peer into the past for +something that has ceased to be. Georgina grew impatient.</p> + +<p>“More ride!” she commanded, waving her +hands and clucking her tongue as he had just taught +her to do.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let her worry you, Mr. Darcy,” +called Mrs. Triplett from the kitchen. “Her +mother will be back from the post-office most any minute +now. Just send her out here to me if she gets too bothersome.”</p> + +<p>Instantly Georgina cuddled her head down against his +shoulder. She had no mind to be separated from this +new-found playfellow. When he produced a battered +silver watch from the pocket of his velveteen waistcoat, +holding it over her ear, she was charmed into a prolonged +silence. The clack of Tippy’s spoon against +the crock came in from the kitchen, and now and then +the fire snapped or the green fore-log made a sing-song +hissing.</p> + +<p>More than thirty years had passed by since the old +Towncrier first visited the Huntingdon home. He was +not the Towncrier then, but a seafaring man who had +sailed many times around the globe, and had his fill +of adventure. Tired at last of such a roving life, +he had found anchorage to his liking in this quaint +old fishing town at the tip end of Cape Cod. Georgina’s +grandfather, George Justin Huntingdon, a judge and +a writer of dry law books, had been one of the first +to open his home to him. They had been great friends, +and little Justin, now Georgina’s father, had +been a still closer friend. Many a day they had spent +together, these two, fishing or blueberrying or tramping +across the dunes. The boy called him “Uncle +Darcy,” tagging after him like a shadow, and +feeling a kinship in their mutual love of adventure +which drew as strongly as family ties. The Judge always +said that it was the old sailor’s yarns of sea +life which sent Justin into the navy “instead +of the law office where he belonged.”</p> + +<p>As the old man looked down at Georgina’s soft, +brown curls pressed against his shoulder, and felt +her little dimpled hand lying warm on his neck, he +could almost believe it was the same child who had +crept into his heart thirty years ago. It was hard +to think of the little lad as grown, or as filling +the responsible position of a naval surgeon. Yet when +he counted back he realized that the Judge had been +dead several years, and the house had been standing +empty all that time. Justin had never been back since +it was boarded up. He had written occasionally during +the first of his absence, but only boyish scrawls which +told little about himself.</p> + +<p>The only real news which the old man had of him was +in the three clippings from the Provincetown _Beacon_, +which he carried about in his wallet. The first was +a mention of Justin’s excellent record in fighting +a fever epidemic in some naval station in the tropics. +The next was the notice of his marriage to a Kentucky +girl by the name of Barbara Shirley, and the last +was a paragraph clipped from a newspaper dated only +a few weeks back. It said that Mrs. Justin Huntingdon +and little daughter, Georgina, would arrive soon to +take possession of the old Huntingdon homestead which +had been closed for many years. During the absence +of her husband, serving in foreign parts, she would +have with her Mrs. Maria Triplett.</p> + +<p>The Towncrier had known Mrs. Triplett as long as he +had known the town. She had been kind to him when +he and his wife were in great trouble. He was thinking +about that time now, because it had something to do +with his last visit to the Judge in this very room. +She had happened to be present, too. And the green +fore-log had made that same sing-song hissing. The +sound carried his thoughts back so far that for a few +moments he ceased to hear the clack of the spoon.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch01-end.png"><img src="images/ch01-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_02"></a>Chapter II</h1> +<h2>Georgina’s Playmate Mother</h2> + +<p>As the Towncrier’s revery brought him around +to Mrs. Triplett’s part in the painful scene +which he was recalling, he heard her voice, and looking +up, saw that she had come back into the room, and was +standing by the window.</p> + +<p>“There’s Justin’s wife now, Mr. +Darcy, coming up the beach. Poor child, she didn’t +get her letter. I can tell she’s disappointed +from the way she walks along as if she could hardly +push against the wind.”</p> + +<p>The old man, leaning sideways over the arm of his +chair, craned his neck toward the window to peer out, +but he did it without dislodging Georgina, who was +repeating the “tick-tick” of the watch +in a whisper, as she lay contentedly against the Towncrier’s +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“She’s naught but a slip of a girl,” +he commented, referring to Georgina’s mother, +slowly drawing into closer view. “She must be +years younger than Justin. She came up to me in the +post-office last week and told me who she was, and +I’ve been intending ever since to get up this +far to talk with her about him.”</p> + +<p>As they watched her she reached the end of the board-walk, +and plunging ankle-deep into the sand, trudged slowly +along as if pushed back by the wind. It whipped her +skirts about her and blew the ends of her fringed +scarf back over her shoulder. She made a bright flash +of color against the desolate background. Scarf, cap +and thick knitted reefer were all of a warm rose shade. +Once she stopped, and with hands thrust into her reefer +pockets, stood looking off towards the lighthouse on +Long Point. Mrs. Triplett spoke again, still watching +her.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t want to take Justin’s +offer when he first wrote to me, although the salary +he named was a good one, and I knew the work wouldn’t +be more than I’ve always been used to. But I +had planned to stay in Wellfleet this winter, and +it always goes against the grain with me to have to +change a plan once made. I only promised to stay until +she was comfortably settled. A Portugese woman on +one of the back streets would have come and cooked +for her. But land! When I saw how strange and lonesome +she seemed and how she turned to me for everything, +I didn’t have the heart to say go. I only named +it once to her, and she sort of choked up and winked +back the tears and said in that soft-spoken Southern +way of hers, ‘Oh, don’t leave me, Tippy!’ +She’s taken to calling me Tippy, just as Georgina +does. ’When you talk about it I feel like a +kitten shipwrecked on a desert island. It’s all +so strange and dreadful here with just sea on one +side and sand dunes on the other.’”</p> + +<p>At the sound of her name, Georgina suddenly sat up +straight and began fumbling the watch back into the +velveteen pocket. She felt that it was time for her +to come into the foreground again.</p> + +<p>“More ride!” she demanded. The galloping +began again, gently at first, then faster and faster +in obedience to her wishes, until she seemed only +a swirl of white dress and blue ribbon and flying brown +curls. But this time the giddy going up and down was +in tame silence. There was no accompanying song to +make the game lively. Mrs. Triplett had more to say, +and Mr. Darcy was too deeply interested to sing.</p> + +<p>“Look at her now, stopping to read that sign +set up on the spot where the Pilgrims landed. She +does that every time she passes it. Says it cheers +her up something wonderful, no matter how downhearted +she is, to think that she wasn’t one of the +Mayflower passengers, and that she’s nearly +three hundred years away from their hardships and that +dreadful first wash-day of theirs. Does seem to me +though, that’s a poor way to make yourself cheerful, +just thinking of all the hard times you might have +had but didn’t.”</p> + +<p>“_Thing_ it!” lisped Georgina, +wanting undivided attention, and laying an imperious +little hand on his cheek to force it. “_Thing_!”</p> + +<p>He shook his head reprovingly, with a finger across +his lips to remind her that Mrs. Triplett was still +talking; but she was not to be silenced in such a +way. Leaning over until her mischievous brown eyes +compelled him to look at her, she smiled like a dimpled +cherub. Georgina’s smile was something irresistible +when she wanted her own way.</p> + +<p>“_Pleathe!_” she lisped, her +face so radiantly sure that no one could be hardhearted +enough to resist the magic appeal of that word, that +he could not disappoint her.</p> + +<p>“The little witch!” he exclaimed. “She +could wheedle the fish out of the sea if she’d +say please to ’em that way. But how that honey-sweet +tone and the yells she was letting loose awhile back +could come out of that same little rose of a mouth, +passes my understanding.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett had left them again and he was singing +at the top of his quavering voice, “Rings on +her fingers and bells on her toes,” when the +front door opened and Georgina’s mother came +in. The salt wind had blown color into her cheeks +as bright as her rose-pink reefer. Her disappointment +about the letter had left a wistful shadow in her big +gray eyes, but it changed to a light of pleasure when +she saw who was romping with Georgina. They were so +busy with their game that neither of them noticed +her entrance.</p> + +<p>She closed the door softly behind her and stood with +her back against it watching them a moment. Then Georgina +spied her, and with a rapturous cry of “_Barby!_” +scrambled down and ran to throw herself into her mother’s +arms. Barby was her way of saying Barbara. It was the +first word she had ever spoken and her proud young +mother encouraged her to repeat it, even when her +Grandmother Shirley insisted that it wasn’t respectful +for a child to call its mother by her first name.</p> + +<p>“But I don’t care whether it is or not,” +Barbara had answered. “All I want is for her +to feel that we’re the best chums in the world. +And I’m _not_ going to spoil her even +if I am young and inexperienced. There are a few things +that I expect to be very strict about, but making her +respectful to me isn’t one of them.”</p> + +<p>Now one of the things which Barbara had decided to +be very strict about in Georgina’s training +was making her respectful to guests. She was not to +thrust herself upon their notice, she was not to interrupt +their conversation, or make a nuisance of herself. +So, young as she was, Georgina had already learned +what was expected of her, when her mother having greeted +Mr. Darcy and laid aside her wraps, drew up to the +fire to talk to him. But instead of doing the expected +thing, Georgina did the forbidden. Since the old man’s +knees were crossed so that she could no longer climb +upon them, she attempted to seat herself on his foot, +clamoring, “Do it again!”</p> + +<p>“No, dear,” Barbara said firmly. “Uncle +Darcy’s tired.” She had noticed the long-drawn +sigh of relief with which he ended the last gallop. +“He’s going to tell us about father when +he was a little boy no bigger than you. So come here +to Barby and listen or else go off to your own corner +and play with your whirligig.”</p> + +<p>Usually, at the mention of some particularly pleasing +toy Georgina would trot off happily to find it; but +to-day she stood with her face drawn into a rebellious +pucker and scowled at her mother savagely. Then throwing +herself down on the rug she began kicking her blue +shoes up and down on the hearth, roaring, _"No! +No!"_ at the top of her voice. Barbara paid +no attention at first, but finding it impossible to +talk with such a noise going on, dragged her up from +the floor and looked around helplessly, considering +what to do with her. Then she remembered the huge +wicker clothes hamper, standing empty in the kitchen, +and carrying her out, gently lowered her into it.</p> + +<p>It was so deep that even on tiptoe Georgina could +not look over the rim. All she could see was the ceiling +directly overhead. The surprise of such a novel punishment +made her hold her breath to find what was going to +happen next, and in the stillness she heard her mother +say calmly as she walked out of the room: “If +she roars any more, Tippy, just put the lid on; but +as soon as she is ready to act like a little lady, +lift her out, please.”</p> + +<p>The strangeness of her surroundings kept her quiet +a moment longer, and in that moment she discovered +that by putting one eye to a loosely-woven spot in +the hamper she could see what Mrs. Triplett was doing. +She was polishing the silver porringer, trying to +rub out the dent which the fall had made in its side. +It was such an interesting kitchen, seen through this +peep-hole that Georgina became absorbed in rolling +her eye around for wider views. Then she found another +outlook on the other side of the hamper, and was quiet +so long that Mrs. Triplett came over and peered down +at her to see what was the matter. Georgina looked +up at her with a roguish smile. One never knew how +she was going to take a punishment or what she would +do next.</p> + +<p>“Are you ready to be a little lady now? Want +me to lift you out?” Both little arms were stretched +joyously up to her, and a voice of angelic sweetness +said coaxingly: “_Pleathe_, Tippy.”</p> + +<p>The porringer was in Mrs. Triplett’s hand when +she leaned over the hamper to ask the question. The +gleam of its freshly-polished sides caught Georgina’s +attention an instant before she was lifted out, and +it was impressed on her memory still more deeply by +being put into her own hands afterwards as she sat +in Mrs. Triplett’s lap. Once more her tiny finger’s +tip was made to trace the letters engraved around the +rim, as she was told about her great-great aunt and +what was expected of her. The solemn tone clutched +her attention as firmly as the hand which held her, +and somehow, before she was set free, she was made +to feel that because of that old porringer she was +obliged to be a little lady.</p> + +<p>Tippy was not one who could sit calmly by and see +a child suffer for lack of proper instruction, and +while Georgina never knew just how it was done, the +fact was impressed upon her as years went by that there +were many things which she could not do, simply because +she was a Huntingdon and because her name had been +graven for so many generations around that shining +silver rim.</p> + +<p>Although to older eyes the happenings of that morning +were trivial, they were far-reaching in their importance +to Georgina, for they gave her three memories--Jeremy’s +teeth, the Towncrier’s bell, and her own name +on the porringer--to make a deep impression on all +her after-life.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch02-end.png"><img src="images/ch02-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_03"></a>Chapter III</h1> +<h2>The Towncrier Has His Say</h2> + +<p>The old Huntingdon house with its gray gables and +stone chimneys, stood on the beach near the breakwater, +just beyond the place where everything seemed to come +to an end. The house itself marked the end of the town. +Back of it the dreary dunes stretched away toward the +Atlantic, and in front the Cape ran out in a long, +thin tongue of sand between the bay and the harbor, +with a lighthouse on its farthest point. It gave one +the feeling of being at the very tip end of the world +to look across and see the water closing in on both +sides. Even the road ended in front of the house in +a broad loop in which machines could turn around.</p> + +<p>In summer there was always a string of sightseers +coming up to this end of the beach. They came to read +the tablet erected on the spot known to Georgina as +“holy ground,” because it marked the first +landing of the Pilgrims. Long before she could read, +Mrs. Triplett taught her to lisp part of a poem which +said:</p> + +<blockquote>“Aye, call it holy ground,<br /> +The thoil where firth they trod.”</blockquote> + +<p>She taught it to Georgina because she thought it was +only fair to Justin that his child should grow up +to be as proud of her New England home as she was +of her Southern one. Barbara was always singing to +her about “My Old Kentucky Home,” and +“Going Back to Dixie,” and when they played +together on the beach their favorite game was building +Grandfather Shirley’s house in the sand.</p> + +<p>Day after day they built it up with shells and wet +sand and pebbles, even to the stately gate posts topped +by lanterns. Twigs of bayberry and wild beach plum +made trees with which to border its avenues, and every +dear delight of swing and arbor and garden pool beloved +in Barbara’s play-days, was reproduced in miniature +until Georgina loved them, too. She knew just where +the bee-hives ought to be put, and the sun-dial, and +the hole in the fence where the little pigs squeezed +through. There was a story for everything. By the +time she had outgrown her lisp she could make the +whole fair structure by herself, without even a suggestion +from Barbara.</p> + +<p>When she grew older the shore was her schoolroom also. +She learned to read from letters traced in the sand, +and to make them herself with shells and pebbles. +She did her sums that, way, too, after she had learned +to count the sails in the harbor, the gulls feeding +at ebb-tide, and the great granite blocks which formed +the break-water.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett’s time for lessons was when Georgina +was following her about the house. Such following +taught her to move briskly, for Tippy, like time and +tide, never waited, and it behooved one to be close +at her heels if one would see what she put into a +pan before she whisked it into the oven. Also it was +necessary to keep up with her as she moved swiftly +from the cellar to the pantry if one would hear her +thrilling tales of Indians and early settlers and +brave forefathers of colony times.</p> + +<p>There was a powder horn hanging over the dining room +mantel, which had been in the battle of Lexington, +and Tippy expected Georgina to find the same inspiration +in it which she did, because the forefather who carried +it was an ancestor of each.</p> + +<p>“The idea of a descendant of one of the Minutemen +being afraid of _rats!_” she would +say with a scornful rolling of her words which seemed +to wither her listener with ridicule. “Or of +an empty garret! _Tut!_”</p> + +<p>When Georgina was no more than six, that disgusted +“Tut!” would start her instantly down +a dark cellar-way or up into the dreaded garret, even +when she could feel the goose-flesh rising all over +her. Between the porringer, which obliged her to be +a little lady, and the powder horn, which obliged +her to be brave, even while she shivered, some times +Georgina felt that she had almost too much to live +up to. There were times when she was sorry that she +had ancestors. She was proud to think that one of +them shared in the honors of the tall Pilgrim monument +overlooking the town and harbor, but there were days +when she would have traded him gladly far an hour’s +play with two little Portugese boys and their sister, +who often wandered up to the dunes back of the house.</p> + +<p>She had watched them often enough to know that their +names were Manuel and Joseph and Rosa. They were beautiful +children, such as some of the old masters delighted +to paint, but they fought and quarreled and--Tippy +said--used “shocking language.” That is +why Georgina was not allowed to play with them, but +she often stood at the back gate watching them, envying +their good times together and hoping to hear a sample +of their shocking language.</p> + +<p>One day when they strolled by dragging a young puppy +in a rusty saucepan by a string tied to the handle, +the temptation to join them overcame her. Inch by +inch her hand moved up nearer the forbidden gate latch +and she was just slipping through when old Jeremy, +hidden behind a hedge where he was weeding the borders, +rose up like an all-seeing dragon and roared at her, +“Coom away, lass! Ye maun’t do that!”</p> + +<p>She had not known that he was anywhere around, and +the voice coming suddenly out of the unseen startled +her so that her heart seemed to jump up into her throat. +It made her angry, too. Only the moment before she +had heard Rosa scream at Manuel, “You ain’t +my boss; shut your big mouth!”</p> + +<p>It was on the tip of her tongue to scream the same +thing at old Jeremy and see what would happen. She +felt, instinctively, that this was shocking language. +But she had not yet outgrown the lurking fear which +always seized her in his presence that either her teeth +or his might fly out if she wasn’t careful, +so she made no answer. But compelled to vent her inward +rebellion in some way, she turned her back on the hedge +that screened him and shook the gate till the latch +rattled.</p> + +<p>Looking up she saw the tall Pilgrim monument towering +over the town like a watchful giant. She had a feeling +that it, too, was spying on her. No matter where she +went, even away out in the harbor in a motor boat, +it was always stretching its long neck up to watch +her. Shaking back her curls, she looked up at it defiantly +and made a face at it, just the ugliest pucker of +a face she could twist her little features into.</p> + +<p>But it was only on rare occasions that Georgina felt +the longing for playmates of her own age. Usually +she was busy with her lessons or happily following +her mother and Mrs. Triplett around the house, sharing +all their occupations. In jelly-making time she had +the scrapings of the kettle to fill her own little +glass. When they sewed she sewed with them, even when +she was so small that she had to have the thread tied +in the needle’s eye, and could do no more than +pucker up a piece of soft goods into big wallops. +But by the time she was nine years old she had learned +to make such neat stitches that Barbara sent specimens +of her needlework back to Kentucky, and folded others +away in a little trunk of keepsakes, to save for her +until she should be grown.</p> + +<p>Abo by the time she was nine she could play quite +creditably a number of simple Etudes on the tinkly +old piano which had lost some of its ivories. Her +daily practicing was one of the few things about which +Barbara was strict. So much attention had been given +to her own education in music that she found joy in +keeping up her interest in it, and wanted to make +it one of Georgina’s chief sources of pleasure. +To that end she mixed the stories of the great operas +and composers with her fairy tales and folk lore, +until the child knew them as intimately as she did +her Hans Andersen and Uncle Remus.</p> + +<p>They often acted stories together, too. Even Mrs. +Triplett was dragged into these, albeit unwillingly, +for minor but necessary parts. For instance, in “Lord +Ullin’s Daughter,” she could keep on with +her knitting and at the same time do “the horsemen +hard behind us ride,” by clapping her heels +on the hearth to sound like hoof-beats.</p> + +<p>Acting came as naturally to Georgina as breathing. +She could not repeat the simplest message without +unconsciously imitating the tone and gesture of the +one who sent it. This dramatic instinct made a good +reader of her when she took her turn with Barbara +in reading aloud. They used to take page about, sitting +with their arms around each other on the old claw-foot +sofa, backed up against the library table.</p> + +<p>At such performances the old Towncrier was often an +interested spectator. Barbara welcomed him when he +first came because he seemed to want to talk about +Justin as much as she desired to hear. Later she welcomed +him for his own sake, and grew to depend upon him +for counsel and encouragement. Most of all she appreciated +his affectionate interest in Georgina. If he had been +her own grandfather he could not have taken greater +pride in her little accomplishments. More than once +he had tied her thread in her needle for her when +she was learning to sew, and it was his unfailing +praise of her awkward attempts which encouraged her +to I keep on until her stitches were really praiseworthy.</p> + +<p>He applauded her piano playing from her first stumbling +attempt at scales to the last simple waltz she had +just learned. He attended many readings, beginning +with words of one syllable, on up to such books as +“The Leatherstocking Tales.” He came in +one day, however, as they were finishing a chapter +in one of the Judge’s favorite novels, and no +sooner had Georgina skipped out of the room on an +errand than he began to take her mother to task for +allowing her to read anything of that sort.</p> + +<p>“You’ll make the lass old before her time!” +he scolded. “A little scrap like her ought to +be playing with other children instead of reading books +so far over her head that she can only sort of tip-toe +up to them.”</p> + +<p>“But it’s the stretching that makes her +grow, Uncle Darcy,” Barbara answered in an indulgent +tone. He went on heedless of her interruption.</p> + +<p>“And she tells me that she sometimes sits as +much as an hour at a time, listening to you play on +the piano, especially if it’s ’sad music +that makes you think of someone looking off to sea +for a ship that never comes in, or of waves creeping +up in a lonely place where the fog-bell tolls.’ +Those were her very words, and she looked so mournful +that it worried me. It isn’t natural for a child +of her age to sit with a far-away look in her eyes, +as if she were seeing things that ain’t there.”</p> + +<p>Barbara laughed.</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, Uncle Darcy. As long as she keeps +her rosy cheeks and is full of life, a little dreaming +can’t hurt her. You should have seen her doing +the elfin dance this morning. She entered into the +spirit of it like a little whirlwind. And, besides, +there are no children anywhere near that I can allow +her to play with. I have only a few acquaintances in +the town, and they are too far from us to make visiting +easy between the children. But look at the time _I_ +give to her. I play with her so much that we’re +more like two chums than mother and child.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but it would be better for both of you +if you had more friends outside. Then Georgina wouldn’t +feel the sadness of ’someone looking off to +sea for a ship that never comes in.’ She feels +your separation from Justin and your watching for +his letters and your making your whole life just a +waiting time between his furloughs, more than you have +any idea of.”</p> + +<p>“But, Uncle Darcy!” exclaimed Barbara, +“it would be just the same no matter how many +friends I had. They couldn’t make me forget his +absence.”</p> + +<p>“No, but they could get you interested in other +things, and Georgina would feel the difference, and +be happier because you would not seem to be waiting +and anxious. There’s some rare, good people in +this town, old friends of the family who tried to +make you feel at home among them when you first came.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” admitted Barbara, slowly, “but +I was so young then, and so homesick that strangers +didn’t interest me. Now Georgina is old enough +to be thoroughly companionable, and our music and +sewing and household duties fill our days.”</p> + +<p>It was a subject they had discussed before, without +either convincing the other, and the old man had always +gone away at such times with a feeling of defeat. +But this time as he took his leave, it was with the +determination to take the matter in hand himself. He +felt he owed it to the Judge to do that much for his +grandchild. The usual crowds of summer people would +be coming soon. He had heard that Gray Inn was to be +re-opened this summer. That meant there would probably +be children at this end of the beach. If Opportunity +came that near to Georgina’s door he knew several +ways of inducing it to knock. So he went off smiling +to himself.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch03-end.png"><img src="images/ch03-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_04"></a>Chapter IV</h1> +<h2>New Friends and the Green Stairs</h2> + +<p>The town filled up with artists earlier than usual +that summer. Stable lofts and old boathouses along +the shore blossomed into studios. Sketching classes +met in the rooms of the big summer art schools which +made the Cape end famous, or set up their models down +by the wharfs. One ran into easels pitched in the +most public places: on busy street corners, on the +steps of the souvenir shops and even in front of the +town hall. People in paint-besmeared smocks, loaded +with canvases, sketching stools and palettes, filled +the board-walk and overflowed into the middle of the +street.</p> + +<p>The _Dorothy Bradford_ steamed up to the +wharf from Boston with her daily load of excursionists, +and the “accommodation” busses began to +ply up and down the three miles of narrow street with +its restless tide of summer visitors.</p> + +<p>Up along, through the thick of it one June morning, +came the Towncrier, a picturesque figure in his short +blue jacket and wide seaman’s trousers, a red +bandanna knotted around his throat and a wide-rimmed +straw hat on the back of his head.</p> + +<p>“Notice!” he cried, after each vigorous +ringing of his big brass bell. “Lost, between +Mayflower Heights and the Gray Inn, a black leather +bill-case with important papers.”</p> + +<p>He made slow progress, for someone stopped him at +almost every rod with a word of greeting, and he stopped +to pat every dog which thrust a friendly nose into +his hand in passing. Several times strangers stepped +up to him to inquire into his affairs as if he were +some ancient historical personage come to life. Once +he heard a man say:</p> + +<p>“Quick with your kodak, Ethel. Catch the Towncrier +as he comes along. They say there’s only one +other place in the whole United States that has one. +You can’t afford to miss anything _this_ +quaint.”</p> + +<p>It was nearly noon when he came towards the end of +the beach. He walked still more slowly here, for many +cottages had been opened for summer residents since +the last time he passed along, and he knew some of +the owners. He noticed that the loft above a boat-house +which had once been the studio of a famous painter +of marine scenes was again in use. He wondered who +had taken it. Almost across from it was the “Green +Stairs” where Georgina always came to meet him +if she were outdoors and heard his bell.</p> + +<p>The “Green Stairs” was the name she had +given to a long flight of wooden steps with a railing +on each side, leading from the sidewalk up a steep +embankment to the bungalow on top. It was a wide-spreading +bungalow with as many windows looking out to sea as +a lighthouse, and had had an especial interest for +Georgina, since she heard someone say that its owner, +Mr. Milford, was an old bachelor who lived by himself. +She used to wonder when she was younger if “all +the bread and cheese he got he kept upon a shelf.” +Once she asked Barbara why he didn’t “go +to London to get him a wife,” and was told probably +because he had so many guests that there wasn’t +time. Interesting people were always coming and going +about the house; men famous for things they had done +or written or painted.</p> + +<p>Now as the Towncrier came nearer, he saw Georgina +skipping along toward him with her jumping rope. She +was bare-headed, her pink dress fluttering in the +salt breeze, her curls blowing back from her glowing +little face. He would have hastened his steps to meet +her, but his honest soul always demanded a certain +amount of service from himself for the dollar paid +him for each trip of this kind. So he went on at his +customary gait, stopping at the usual intervals to +ring his bell and call his news.</p> + +<p>At the Green Stairs Georgina paused, her attention +attracted by a foreign-looking battleship just steaming +into the harbor. She was familiar with nearly every +kind of sea-going craft that ever anchored here, but +she could not classify this one. With her hands behind +her, clasping her jumping rope ready for another throw, +she stood looking out to sea. Presently a slight scratching +sound behind her made her turn suddenly. Then she +drew back startled, for she was face to face with a +dog which was sitting on the step just on a level with +her eyes. He was a ragged-looking tramp of a dog, +an Irish terrier, but he looked at her in such a knowing, +human way that she spoke to him as if he had been a +person.</p> + +<p>“For goodness’ sake, how you made me jump! +I didn’t know anybody was sitting there behind +me.” It was almost uncanny the way his eyes twinkled +through his hair, as if he were laughing with her over +some good joke they had together. It gave her such +a feeling of comradeship that she stood and smiled +back at him. Suddenly he raised his right paw and thrust +it towards her. She drew back another step. She was +not used to dogs, and she hesitated about touching +anything with such claws in it as the paw he gravely +presented.</p> + +<p>But as he continued to hold it out she felt it would +be impolite not to respond in some way, so reaching +out very cautiously she gave it a limp shake. Then +as he still kept looking at her with questioning eyes +she asked quite as if she expected him to speak, “What’s +your name, Dog?”</p> + +<p>A voice from the top of the steps answered, “It’s +Captain Kidd.” Even more startled than when +the dog had claimed her attention, she glanced up +to see a small boy on the highest step. He was sucking +an orange, but he took his mouth away from it long +enough to add, “His name’s on his collar +that he got yesterday, and so’s mine. You can +look at ’em if you want to.”</p> + +<p>Georgina leaned forward to peer at the engraving on +the front of the collar, but the hair on the shaggy +throat hid it, and she was timid about touching a +spot just below such a wide open mouth with a red tongue +lolling out of it. She put her hands behind her instead.</p> + +<p>“Is--is he--a pirate dog?” she ventured.</p> + +<p>The boy considered a minute, not wanting to say yes +if pirates were not respectable in her eyes, and not +wanting to lose the chance of glorifying him if she +held them in as high esteem as he did. After a long +meditative suck at his orange he announced, “Well, +he’s just as good as one. He buries all his +treasures. That’s why we call him Captain Kidd.”</p> + +<p>Georgina shot a long, appraising glance at the boy +from under her dark lashes. His eyes were dark, too. +There was something about him that attracted her, +even if his face was smeary with orange juice and streaked +with dirty finger marks. She wanted to ask more about +Captain Kidd, but her acquaintance with boys was as +slight as with dogs. Overcome by a sudden shyness +she threw her rope over her head and went skipping +on down the boardwalk to meet the Towncrier.</p> + +<p>The boy stood up and looked after her. He wished she +hadn’t been in such a hurry. It had been the +longest morning he ever lived through. Having arrived +only the day before with his father to visit at the +bungalow he hadn’t yet discovered what there +was for a boy to do in this strange place. Everybody +had gone off and left him with the servants, and told +him to play around till they got back. It wouldn’t +be long, they said, but he had waited and waited until +he felt he had been looking out to sea from the top +of those green steps all the days of his life. Of course, +he wouldn’t want to play with just a girl, but----</p> + +<p>He watched the pink dress go fluttering on, and then +he saw Georgina take the bell away from the old man +as if it were her right to do so. She turned and walked +along beside him, tinkling it faintly as she talked. +He wished he had a chance at it. He’d show her +how loud he could make it sound.</p> + +<p>“Notice,” called the old man, seeing faces +appear at some of the windows they were passing. “Lost, +a black leather bill-case----”</p> + +<p>The boy, listening curiously, slid down the steps +until he reached the one on which the dog was sitting, +and put his arm around its neck. The banister posts +hid him from the approaching couple. He could hear +Georgina’s eager voice piping up flute-like:</p> + +<p>“It’s a pirate dog, Uncle Darcy. He’s +named Captain Kidd because he buries his treasures.”</p> + +<p>In answer the old man’s quavering voice rose +in a song which he had roared lustily many a time +in his younger days, aboard many a gallant vessel:</p> + +<blockquote>“Oh, my name is Captain Kidd,<br /> +And many wick-ud things I did,<br /> +And heaps of gold I hid,<br /> +As I sailed.”</blockquote> + +<p>The way his voice slid down on the word wick-_ud_ +made a queer thrilly feeling run down the boy’s +back, and all of a sudden the day grew wonderfully +interesting, and this old seaport town one of the nicest +places he had ever been in. The singer stopped at the +steps and Georgina, disconcerted at finding the boy +at such close range when she expected to see him far +above her, got no further in her introduction to Captain +Kidd than “Here he------”</p> + +<p>But the old man needed no introduction. He had only +to speak to the dog to set every inch of him quivering +in affectionate response. “Here’s a friend +worth having,” the raggedy tail seemed to signal +in a wig-wag code of its own.</p> + +<p>Then the wrinkled hand went from the dog’s head +to the boy’s shoulder with the same kind of +an affectionate pat. “What’s _your_ +name, son?”</p> + +<p>“Richard Morland.”</p> + +<p>“What?” was the surprised question. “Are +you a son of the artist Morland, who is visiting up +here at the Milford bungalow?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s us.”</p> + +<p>“Well, bless my stars, it’s _his_ +bill-case I have been crying all morning. If I’d +known there was a fine lad like you sitting about doing +nothing, I’d had you with me, ringing the bell.”</p> + +<p>The little fellow’s face glowed. He was as quick +to recognize a friend worth having as Captain Kidd +had been.</p> + +<p>“Say,” he began, “if it was Daddy’s +bill-case you were shouting about, you needn’t +do it any longer. It’s found. Captain Kidd came +in with it in his mouth just after Daddy went away. +He was starting to dig a hole in the sand down by +the garage to bury it in, like he does everything. +He’s hardly done being a puppy yet, you know. +I took it away from him and reckanized it, and I’ve +been waiting here all morning for Dad to come home.”</p> + +<p>He began tugging at the pocket into which he had stowed +the bill-case for safe-keeping, and Captain Kidd, +feeling that it was his by right of discovery, stood +up, wagging himself all over, and poking his nose in +between them, with an air of excited interest. The +Towncrier shook his finger at him.</p> + +<p>“You rascal! I suppose you’ll be claiming +the reward next thing, you old pirate! How old is +he, Richard?”</p> + +<p>“About a year. He was given to me when he was +just a little puppy.”</p> + +<p>“And how old are you, son?”</p> + +<p>“Ten my last birthday, but I’m so big +for my age I wear ’leven-year-old suits.”</p> + +<p>Now the Towncrier hadn’t intended to stop, but +the dog began burrowing its head ecstatically against +him, and there was something in the boy’s lonesome, +dirty little face which appealed to him, and the next +thing he knew he was sitting on the bottom step of +the Green Stairs with Georgina beside him, telling +the most thrilling pirate story he knew. And he told +it more thrillingly than he had ever told it before. +The reason for this was he had never had such a spellbound +listener before. Not even Justin had hung on each +word with the rapt interest this boy showed. His dark +eyes seemed to grow bigger and more luminous with each +sentence, more intense in their piercing gaze. His +sensitive mouth changed expression with every phase +of the adventure--danger, suspense, triumph. He scarcely +breathed, he was listening so hard.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the whistle at the cold-storage plant began +to blow for noon, and the old man rose stiffly, saying:</p> + +<p>“I’m a long way from home, I should have +started back sooner.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but you haven’t finished the story!” +cried the boy, in distress at this sudden ending. +“It _couldn’t_ stop there.”</p> + +<p>Georgina caught him by the sleeve of the old blue +jacket to pull him back to the seat beside her.</p> + +<p>“Please, Uncle Darcy!”</p> + +<p>It was the first time in all her coaxing that that +magic word failed to bend him to her wishes.</p> + +<p>“No,” he answered firmly, “I can’t +finish it now, but I’ll tell you what I’ll +do. This afternoon I’ll row up to this end of +the beach in my dory and take you two children out +to the weirs to see the net hauled in. There’s +apt to be a big catch of squid worth going to see, +and I’ll finish the story on the way. Will that +suit you?”</p> + +<p>Richard stood up, as eager and excited as Captain +Kidd always was when anybody said “Rats!” +But the next instant the light died out of his eyes +and he plumped himself gloomily down on the step, as +if life were no longer worth living.</p> + +<p>“Oh, bother!” he exclaimed. “I forgot. +I can’t go anywhere. Dad’s painting my +portrait, and I have to stick around so’s he +can work on it any old time he feels like it. That’s +why he brought me on this visit with him, so’s +he can finish it up here.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you can beg off, just for to-day,” +suggested Mr. Darcy.</p> + +<p>“No, it’s very important,” he explained +gravely. “It’s the best one Daddy’s +done yet, and the last thing before we left home Aunt +Letty said, ’Whatever you do, boys, don’t +let anything interfere with getting that picture done +in time to hang in the exhibition,’ and we both +promised.”</p> + +<p>There was gloomy silence for a moment, broken by the +old man’s cheerful voice.</p> + +<p>“Well, don’t you worry till you see what +we can do. I want to see your father anyhow about +this bill-case business, so I’ll come around +this afternoon, and if he doesn’t let you off +to-day maybe he will to-morrow. Just trust your Uncle +Darcy for getting where he starts out to go. Skip +along home, Georgina, and tell your mother I want to +borrow you for the afternoon.”</p> + +<p>An excited little pink whirlwind with a jumping rope +going over and over its head, went flying up the street +toward the end of the beach. A smiling old man with +age looking out of his faded blue eyes but with the +spirit of boyhood undimmed in his heart, walked slowly +down towards the town. And on the bottom step of the +Green Stairs, his arm around Captain Kidd, the boy +sat watching them, looking from one to the other as +long as they were in sight. The heart of him was pounding +deliciously to the music of such phrases as, _"Fathoms +deep, lonely beach, spade and pickaxe, skull and crossbones, +bags of golden doubloons and chests of ducats and +pearls!"_</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch04-end.png"><img src="images/ch04-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_05"></a>Chapter V</h1> +<h2>In the Footsteps of Pirates</h2> + +<p>The weirs, to which they took their way that afternoon +in the Towncrier’s dory, _The Betsey_, +was “the biggest fish-trap in any waters thereabouts,” +the old man told them. And it happened that the net +held an unusually large catch that day. Barrels and +barrels of flapping squid and mackerel were emptied +into the big motor boat anchored alongside of it.</p> + +<p>At a word from Uncle Darcy, an obliging fisherman +in oilskins held out his hand to help the children +scramble over the side of _The Betsey_ to +a seat on top of the cabin where they could have a +better view. All the crew were Portuguese. The man +who helped them climb over was Joe Fayal, father of +Manuel and Joseph and Rosa. He stood like a young brown +Neptune, his white teeth flashing when he laughed, +a pitchfork in his hands with which to spear the goosefish +as they turned up in the net, and throw them back +into the sea. If nothing else had happened that sight +alone was enough to mark it as a memorable afternoon.</p> + +<p>Nothing else did happen, really, except that on the +way out, Uncle Darcy finished the story begun on the +Green Stairs and on the way back told them another. +But what Richard remembered ever after as seeming to +have happened, was that _The Betsey_ suddenly +turned into a Brigantine. Perched up on one of the +masts, an unseen spectator, he watched a mutiny flare +up among the sailors, and saw that “strutting, +swaggering villain, John Quelch, throw the captain +overboard and take command himself.” He saw +them hoist a flag they called “Old Roger,” +“having in the middle of it an Anatomy (skeleton) +with an hour-glass in one hand and a dart in the heart +with three drops of blood proceeding from it.”</p> + +<p>He heard the roar that went up from all those bearded +throats--(wonderful how Uncle Darcy’s thin, +quavering voice could sound that whole chorus)----</p> + +<blockquote>“Of all the lives, I ever say,<br /> +A Pirate’s be for I.<br /> +Hap what hap may, he’s allus gay<br /> +An’ drinks an’ bungs his eye.<br /> +For his work he’s never loth,<br /> +An’ a-pleasurin’ he’ll go<br /> +Tho’ certain sure to be popt of.<br /> +Yo ho, with the rum below."</i></blockquote> + +<p>And then they made after the Portuguese vessels, nine +of them, and took them all (What a bloody fight it +was!), and sailed away with a dazzling store of treasure, +“enough to make an honest sailorman rub his eyes +and stagger in his tracks.”</p> + +<p>Richard had not been brought up on stories as Georgina +had. He had had few of this kind, and none so breathlessly +realistic. It carried him out of himself so completely +that as they rowed slowly back to town he did not +see a single house in it, although every western window-pane +flashed back the out-going sun like a golden mirror. +His serious, brown eyes were following the adventures +of these bold sea-robbers, “marooned three times +and wounded nine and blowed up in the air.”</p> + +<p>When all of a sudden the brigantine changed back into +_The Betsey_, and he had to climb out at +the boat-landing, he had somewhat of the dazed feeling +of that honest sailor-man. He had heard enough to make +him “rub his eyes and stagger in his tracks.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy, having put them ashore, rowed off with +the parting injunction to skip along home. Georgina +did skip, so light of foot and quick of movement that +she was in the lead all the way to the Green Stairs. +There she paused and waited for Richard to join her. +As he came up he spoke for the first time since leaving +the weirs.</p> + +<p>“Wish I knew the boys in this town. Wish I knew +which one would be the best to get to go digging with +me.”</p> + +<p>Georgina did not need to ask, “digging for what?” +She, too, had been thinking of buried treasure.</p> + +<p>“_I’ll_ go with you,” +she volunteered sweetly.</p> + +<p>He turned on her an inquiring look, as if he were +taking her measure, then glanced away indifferently.</p> + +<p>“You couldn’t. You’re a girl.”</p> + +<p>It was a matter-of-fact statement with no suspicion +of a taunt in it, but it stung Georgina’s pride. +Her eyes blazed defiantly and she tossed back her +curls with a proud little uplift of the chin. It must +be acknowledged that her nose, too, took on the trifle +of a tilt. Her challenge was unspoken but so evident +that he answered it.</p> + +<p>“Well, you know you couldn’t creep out +into the night and go along a lonely shore into dark +caves and everything.”</p> + +<p>“_Pity_ I couldn’t!” she +answered with withering scorn. “I could go anywhere +_you_ could, anybody descended from heroes +like _I_ am. I don’t want to be braggity, +but I’d have you to know they put up that big +monument over there for one of them, and another was +a Minute-man. With all that, for you to think I’d +be afraid! _Tut!_”</p> + +<p>Not Tippy herself had ever spoken that word with finer +scorn. With a flirt of her short skirts Georgina turned +and started disdainfully up the street.</p> + +<p>“Wait,” called Richard. He liked the sudden +flare-up of her manner. There was something convincing +about it. Besides, he didn’t want her to go off +in that independent way as if she meant never to come +back. It was she who had brought the Towncrier, that +matchless Teller of Tales, across his path.</p> + +<p><a href="images/image05.png"><img src="images/image05.png" align="right" alt=" They took their Way in the Betsey " /></a>“I didn’t say you wasn’t brave,” +he called after her.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, then stopped, turning half-way around.</p> + +<p>“I just said you was a girl. Most of them _are_ +’fraid cats, but if you ain’t I don’t +know as I’d mind taking you along. That is,” +he added cautiously, “if I could be dead sure +that you’re game.”</p> + +<p>At that Georgina turned all the way around and came +back a few steps.</p> + +<p>“You can try me,” she answered, anxious +to prove herself worthy to be taken on such a quest, +and as eager as he to begin it.</p> + +<p>“You think of the thing you’re most afraid +of yourself, and tell me to do it, and then just watch +me.”</p> + +<p>Richard declined to admit any fear of anything. Georgina +named several terrors at which he stoutly shook his +head, but presently with uncanny insight she touched +upon his weakest point.</p> + +<p>“Would you be afraid of coffins and spooks or +to go to a graveyard in the dead of the night the +way Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn did?”</p> + +<p>Not having read Tom Sawyer, Richard evaded the question +by asking, “How did they do?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t you know? They had the dead +cat and they saw old Injun Joe come with the lantern +and kill the man that was with Muff Potter.”</p> + +<p>By the time Georgina had given the bare outline of +the story in her dramatic way, Richard was quite sure +that no power under heaven could entice him into a +graveyard at midnight, though nothing could have induced +him to admit this to Georgina. As far back as he could +remember he had had an unreasoning dread of coffins. +Even now, big as he was, big enough to wear “’leven-year-old +suits,” nothing could tempt him into a furniture +shop for fear of seeing a coffin.</p> + +<p>One of his earliest recollections was of his nurse +taking him into a little shop, at some village where +they were spending the summer, and his cold terror +when he found himself directly beside a long brown +one, smelling of varnish, and with silver handles. +His nurse’s tales had much to do with creating +this repulsion, also her threat of shutting him up +in a coffin if he wasn’t a good boy. When she +found that she could exact obedience by keeping that +dread hanging over him, she used the threat daily.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” +he said finally. “I’ll let you go digging +with me if you’re game enough to go to the graveyard +and walk clear across it all by yourself and”--dropping +his voice to a hollow whisper-- “_touch--ten--tombstones!_”</p> + +<p>Now, if Richard hadn’t dropped his voice in +that scary way when he said, “and touch ten +tombstones,” it would have been no test at all +of Georgina’s courage. Strange, how just his +way of saying those four words suddenly made the act +such a fearsome one.</p> + +<p>“Do it right now,” he suggested.</p> + +<p>“But it isn’t night yet,” she answered, +“let alone being mid-night.”</p> + +<p>“No, but it’s clouding up, and the sun’s +down. By the time we’d get to a graveyard it +would be dark enough for me to tell if you’re +game.”</p> + +<p>Up to this time Georgina had never gone anywhere without +permission. But this was something one couldn’t +explain very well at home. It seemed better to do +it first and explain afterward.</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes later, two children and a dog arrived +hot and panting at the entrance to the old burying +ground. On a high sand dune, covered with thin patches +of beach and poverty grass, and a sparse growth of +scraggly pines, it was a desolate spot at any time, +and now doubly so in the gathering twilight. The lichen-covered +slabs that marked the graves of the early settlers +leaned this way and that along the hill.</p> + +<p>The gate was locked, but Georgina found a place where +the palings were loose, and squeezed through, leaving +Richard and the dog outside. They watched her through +the fence as she toiled up the steep hill. The sand +was so deep that she plunged in over her shoe-tops +at every step. Once on top it was easier going. The +matted beach grass made a firm turf. She stopped and +read the names on some of the slabs before she plucked +up courage to touch one. She would not have hesitated +an instant if only Richard had not dared her in that +scary way.</p> + +<p>Some little, wild creature started up out of the grass +ahead of her and scurried away. Her heart beat so +fast she could hear the blood pounding against her +ear-drums. She looked back. Richard was watching, and +she was to wave her hand each time she touched a stone +so that he could keep count with her. She stooped +and peered at one, trying to read the inscription. +The clouds had hurried the coming of twilight. It was +hard to decipher the words.</p> + +<p>“None knew him but to love him,” she read +slowly. Instantly her dread of the place vanished. +She laid her hand on the stone and then waved to Richard. +Then she ran on and read and touched another. “Lost +at sea,” that one said, and under the next slabs +slept “Deliverance” and “Experience,” +“Mercy,” and “Thankful.” What +queer names people had in those early days! And what +strange pictures they etched in the stone of those +old gray slabs--urns and angels and weeping willows!</p> + +<p>She signaled the tenth and last. Richard wondered +why she did not turn and come back. At the highest +point of the hill she stood as if transfixed, a slim +little silhouette against the darkening sky, her hands +clasped in amazement. Suddenly she turned and came +tearing down the hill, floundering through sand, falling +and picking herself up, only to flounder and fall +again, finally rolling down the last few yards of the +embankment.</p> + +<p>“What scared you?” asked Richard, his +eyes big with excitement as he watched what seemed +to be her terrified exit. “What did you see?” +But she would not speak until she had squeezed between +the palings and stood beside him. Then she told him +in an impressive whisper, glancing furtively over +her shoulder:</p> + +<p>“There’s a whole row of tombstones up +there with _skulls and cross-bones on them! They +must be pirate graves!"_</p> + +<p>Her mysterious air was so contagious that he answered +in a whisper, and in a moment each was convinced by +the other’s mere manner that their suspicion +was true. Presently Georgina spoke in her natural voice.</p> + +<p>“You go up and look at them.”</p> + +<p>“Naw, I’ll take your word for it,” +he answered in a patronizing tone. “Besides, +there isn’t time now. It’s getting too +dark. They’ll be expecting me home to supper.”</p> + +<p>Georgina glanced about her. The clouds settling heavily +made it seem later than it really was. She had a guilty +feeling that Barby was worrying about her long absence, +maybe imagining that something had happened to _The +Betsey_. She startad homeward, half running, +but her pace slackened as Richard, hurrying along +beside her, began to plan what they would do with +their treasure when they found it.</p> + +<p>“There’s sure to be piles of buried gold +around here,” he said. “Those pirate graves +prove that a lot of ’em lived here once. Let’s +buy a moving picture show first.”</p> + +<p>Georgina’s face grew radiant at this tacit admission +of herself into partnership.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” she assented joyfully. “And +then we can have moving pictures made of _us_ +doing all sorts of things. Won’t it be fun to +sit back and watch ourselves and see how we look doing +’em?”</p> + +<p>“Say! that’s great,” he exclaimed. +“All the kids in town will want to be in the +pictures, too, but we’ll have the say-so, and +only those who do exactly to suit us can have a chance +of getting in.”</p> + +<p>“But the more we let in the more money we’d +make in the show,” was Georgina’s shrewd +answer. “Everybody will want to see what their +child looks like in the movies, so, of course, that’ll +make people come to our show instead of the other +ones.”</p> + +<p>“Say,” was the admiring reply. “You’re +a partner worth having. You’ve got a _head_.”</p> + +<p>Such praise was the sweetest incense to Georgina. +She burned to call forth more.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can think of lots of things when once +I get started,” she assured him with a grand +air.</p> + +<p>As they ran along Richard glanced several times at +the head from which had come such valuable suggestions. +There was a gleam of gold in the brown curls which +bobbed over her shoulders. He liked it. He hadn’t +noticed before that her hair was pretty.</p> + +<p>There was a gleam of gold, also, in the thoughts of +each. They could fairly see the nuggets they were +soon to unearth, and their imaginations, each fired +by the other, shoveled out the coin which the picture +show was to yield them, in the same way that the fisherman +had shoveled the shining mackerel into the boat. They +had not attempted to count them, simply measured them +by the barrelful.</p> + +<p>“Don’t tell anybody,” Richard counseled +her as they parted at the Green Stairs. “Cross +your heart and body you won’t tell a soul. We +want to surprise ’em.”</p> + +<p>Georgina gave the required sign and promise, as gravely +as if it were an oath.</p> + +<p>From the front porch Richard’s father and cousin, +James Milford, watched him climb slowly up the Green +Stairs.</p> + +<p>“Dicky looks as if the affairs of the nation +were on his shoulders,” observed Cousin James. +“Pity he doesn’t realize these are his +care-free days.”</p> + +<p>“They’re not,” answered the elder +Richard. “They’re the most deadly serious +ones he’ll ever have. I don’t know what +he’s got on his mind now, but whatever it is +I’ll wager it is more important business than +that deal you’re trying to pull off with the +Cold Storage people.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch05-end.png"><img src="images/ch05-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_06"></a>Chapter VI</h1> +<h2>Spend-the-Day Guests</h2> + +<p>There was a storm that night and next day a heavy +fog dropped down like a thick white veil over town +and sea. It was so cold that Jeremy lighted a fire, +not only in the living room but in the guest chamber +across the hall.</p> + +<p>A week earlier Tippy had announced, “It’ll +never do to let Cousin Mehitable Huntingdon go back +to Hyannis without having broken bread with us. She’d +talk about it to the end of her days, if we were the +only relations in town who failed to ask her in to +a meal, during her fortnight’s visit. And, of +course, if we ask her, all the family she’s +staying with ought to be invited, and we’ve never +had the new minister and his wife here to eat. Might +as well do it all up at once while we’re about +it.”</p> + +<p>Spend-the-day guests were rare in Georgina’s +experience. The grand preparations for their entertainment +which went on that morning put the new partnership +and the treasure-quest far into the back-ground. She +forgot it entirely while the dining-room table, stretched +to its limit, was being set with the best china and +silver as if for a Thanksgiving feast. Mrs. Fayal, +the mother of Manuel and Joseph and Rosa, came over +to help in the kitchen, and Tippy whisked around so +fast that Georgina, tagging after, was continually +meeting her coming back.</p> + +<p>Georgina was following to ask questions about the +expected guests. She liked the gruesome sound of that +term “blood relations” as Tippy used it, +and wanted to know all about this recently discovered +“in-law,” the widow of her grandfather’s +cousin, Thomas Huntingdon. Barby could not tell her +and Mrs. Triplett, too busy to be bothered, set her +down to turn the leaves of the family album. But the +photograph of Cousin Mehitable had been taken when +she was a boarding-school miss in a disfiguring hat +and basque, and bore little resemblance to the imposing +personage who headed the procession of visitors, arriving +promptly at eleven o’clock.</p> + +<p>When Cousin Mehitable came into the room in her widow’s +bonnet with the long black veil hanging down behind, +she seemed to fill the place as the massive black +walnut wardrobe upstairs filled the alcove. She lifted +her eyeglasses from the hook on her dress to her hooked +nose to look at Georgina before she kissed her. Under +that gaze the child felt as awed as if the big wardrobe +had bent over and put a wooden kiss on her forehead +and said in a deep, whispery sort of voice, “So +this is the Judge’s grand-daughter. How do you +do, my dear?”</p> + +<p>All the guests were middle aged and most of them portly. +There were so many that they filled all the chairs +and the long claw-foot sofa besides. Georgina sat +on a foot-stool, her hands folded in her lap until +the others took out their knitting and embroidery. +Then she ran to get the napkin she was hemming. The +husbands who had been invited did not arrive until +time to sit down to dinner and they left immediately +after the feast.</p> + +<p>Georgina wished that everybody would keep still and +let one guest at a time do the talking. After the +first few minutes of general conversation the circle +broke into little groups, and it wasn’t possible +to follow the thread of the story in more than one. +Each group kept bringing to light some bit of family +history that she wanted to hear or some old family +joke which they laughed over as if it were the funniest +thing that ever happened. It was tantalizing not to +be able to hear them all. It made her think of times +when she rummaged through the chests in the attic, +pulling out fascinating old garments and holding them +up for Tippy to supply their history. But this was +as bad as opening all the chests at once. While she +was busy with one she was missing all that was being +hauled out to the light of day from the others.</p> + +<p>Several times she moved her foot-stool from one group +to another, drawn by some sentence such as, “Well, +she certainly was the prettiest bride I ever laid +my two eyes on, but not many of us would want to stand +in her shoes now.” Or from across the room, +“They do say it was what happened the night +of the wreck that unbalanced his mind, but I’ve +always thought it was having things go at sixes and +sevens at home as they did.”</p> + +<p>Georgina would have settled herself permanently near +Cousin Mehitable, she being the most dramatic and +voluble of them all, but she had a tantalizing way +of lowering her voice at the most interesting part, +and whispering the last sentence behind her hand. +Georgina was nearly consumed with curiosity each time +that happened, and fairly ached to know these whispered +revelations.</p> + +<p>It was an entrancing day--the dinner so good, the +ancient jokes passing around the table all so new +and witty to Georgina, hearing them now for the first +time. She wished that a storm would come up to keep +everybody at the house overnight and thus prolong +the festal feeling. She liked this “Company” +atmosphere in which everyone seemed to grow expansive +of soul and gracious of speech. She loved every relative +she had to the remotest “in-law.”</p> + +<p>Her heart swelled with a great thankfulness to think +that she was not an orphan. Had she been one there +would have been no one to remark that her eyes were +exactly like Justin’s and she carried herself +like a Huntingdon, but that she must have inherited +her smile from the other side of the house. Barbara +had that same smile and winning way with her. It was +pleasant to be discussed when only pleasant things +were said, and to have her neat stitches exclaimed +over and praised as they were passed around.</p> + +<p>She thought about it again after dinner, and felt +so sorry for children who were orphans, that she decided +to spend a large part of her share of the buried treasure +in making them happy. She was sure that Richard would +give part of his share, too, when he found it, and +when the picture show which they were going to buy +was in good running order, they would make it a rule +that orphans should always be let in free.</p> + +<p>She came back from this pleasant day-dream to hear +Cousin Mehitable saying, “Speaking of thieves, +does anyone know what ever became of poor Dan Darcy?”</p> + +<p>Nobody knew, and they all shook their heads and said +that it was a pity that he had turned out so badly. +It was hard to believe it of him when he had always +been such a kind, pleasant-spoken boy, just like his +father; and if ever there was an honest soul in the +whole round world it was the old Town-crier.</p> + +<p>At that Georgina gave such a start that she ran, her +needle into her thumb, and a tiny drop of blood spurted +out. She did not know that Uncle Darcy had a son. +She had never heard his name mentioned before. She +had been at his house many a time, and there never +was anyone there besides himself except his wife, +“Aunt Elspeth” (who was so old and feeble +that she stayed in bed most of the time), and the +three cats, “John Darcy and Mary Darcy and old +Yellownose.” That’s the way the old man +always spoke of them. He called them his family.</p> + +<p>Georgina was glad that the minister’s wife was +a newcomer in the town and asked to have it explained. +Everybody contributed a scrap of the story, for all +side conversations stopped at the mention of Dan Darcy’s +name, and the interest of the whole room centered +on him.</p> + +<p>It was years ago, when he was not more than eighteen +that it happened. He was a happy-go-lucky sort of +fellow who couldn’t be kept down to steady work +such as a job in the bank or a store. He was always +off a-fishing or on the water, but everybody liked +him and said he’d settle down when he was a +bit older. He had a friend much like himself, only +a little older. Emmett Potter was his name. There +was a regular David and Jonathan friendship between +those two. They were hand-in-glove in everything till +Dan went wrong. Both even liked the same girl, Belle +Triplett.</p> + +<p>Here Georgina’s needle gave her another jab. +She laid down her hemming to listen. This was bringing +the story close home, for Belle Triplett was Tippy’s +niece, or rather her husband’s niece. While that +did not make Belle one of the Huntingdon family, Georgina +had always looked upon her as such. She visited at +the house oftener than anyone else.</p> + +<p>Nobody in the room came right out and said what it +was that Dan had done, but by putting the scraps together +Georgina discovered presently that the trouble was +about some stolen money. Lots of people wouldn’t +believe that he was guilty at first, but so many things +pointed his way that finally they had to. The case +was about to be brought to trial when one night Dan +suddenly disappeared as if the sea had swallowed him, +and nothing had ever been heard from him since. Judge +Huntingdon said it was a pity, for even if he was +guilty he thought he could have got him off, there +being nothing but circumstantial evidence.</p> + +<p>Well, it nearly killed his father and mother and Emmett +Potter, too.</p> + +<p>It came out then that Emmett was engaged to Belle. +For nearly a year he grieved about Dan’s disappearance. +Seems he took it to heart so that he couldn’t +bear to do any of the things they’d always done +together or go to the old places. Belle had her wedding +dress made and thought if she could once get him down +to Truro to live, he’d brace up and get over +it.</p> + +<p>They had settled on the day, when one wild, stormy +night word came that a vessel was pounding itself +to pieces off Peaked Hill Bar, and the life-saving +crew was starting to the rescue. Emmett lit out to +see it, and when something happened to the breeches +buoy so they couldn’t use it, he was the first +to answer when the call came for volunteers to man +a boat to put out to them. He would have had a medal +if he’d lived to wear it, for he saved five +lives that night. But he lost his own the last time +he climbed up on the vessel. Nobody knew whether it +was a rope gave way or whether his fingers were so +nearly frozen he couldn’t hold on, but he dropped +into that raging sea, and his body was washed up on +the beach next day.</p> + +<p>Georgina listened, horrified.</p> + +<p>“And Belle with her wedding dress all ready,” +said Cousin Mehitable with a husky sigh.</p> + +<p>“What became of her?” asked the minister’s +wife.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she’s still living here in town, +but it blighted her whole life in a way, although +she was just in her teens when it happened. It helped +her to bear up, knowing he’d died such a hero. +Some of the town people put up a tombstone to his +memory, with a beautiful inscription on it that the +summer people go to see, almost as much as the landing +place of the Pilgrims. She’ll be true to his +memory always, and it’s something beautiful +to see her devotion to Emmett’s father. She calls +him ‘Father’ Potter, and is always doing +things for him. He’s that old net-mender who +lives alone out on the edge of town near the cranberry +bogs.”</p> + +<p>Cousin Mehitable took up the tale:</p> + +<p>“I’ll never forget if I live to be a hundred, +what I saw on my way home the night after Emmett was +drowned. I was living here then, you know. I was passing +through Fishburn Court, and I thought I’d go +in and speak a word to Mr. Darcy, knowing how fond +he’d always been of Emmett on account of Dan +and him being such friends. I went across that sandy +place they call the Court, to the row of cottages +at the end. But I didn’t see anything until +I had opened the Darcy’s gate and stepped into +the yard. The house sits sideways to the Court, you +know.</p> + +<p>“The yellow blind was pulled down over the front +window, but the lamp threw a shadow on it, plain as +a photograph. It was the shadow of the old man, sitting +there with his arms flung out across the table, and +his head bowed down on them. I was just hesitating, +whether to knock or to slip away, when I heard him +groan, and sort of cry out, ’Oh, my Danny! My +Danny! If only you could have gone _that_ +way.’”</p> + +<p>Barbara, hearing a muffled sob behind her, turned +to see the tears running down Georgina’s face. +The next instant she was up, and with her arms around +the child, was gently pushing her ahead of her out +of the room, into the hall. With the door shut behind +her she said soothingly:</p> + +<p>“Barby didn’t know they were going to +tell such unhappy stories, darling. I shouldn’t +have let you stay.”</p> + +<p>“But I _want_ to know,” sobbed +Georgina. “When people you love have trouble +you ought to know, so’s to be kinder to them. +Oh, Barby, I’m so sorry I ever was saucy to +him. And I wish I hadn’t teased his cats. I +tied paper bags on all of John Darcy and Mary Darcy’s +paws, and he said I made old Y-yellownose n-nervous, +tickling his ears----”</p> + +<p>Barbara stopped the sobbing confessions with a kiss +and took Georgina’s jacket from the hatrack.</p> + +<p>“Here,” she said. “It’s bad +for you to sit in the house all day and listen to +grown people talk. Slip into this and run outdoors +with your skipping rope a while. Uncle Darcy has had +very great trouble, but he’s learned to bear +it like a hero, and nothing would make him grieve more +than to know that any shadow of his sorrow was making +you unhappy. The way for you to help him most is to +be as bright and jolly as you can, and to _tease_ +his old cats once in a while.”</p> + +<p>Georgina looked up through her tears, her dimples +all showing, and threw her arms around her adoringly.</p> + +<p>“What a funny mother you are, Barby. Not a bit +like the ones in books.”</p> + +<p>A cold wind was blowing the fog away. She raced up +and down the beach for a long time, and when she came +back it was with red cheeks and ruffled curls. Having +left the company in tears she did not like to venture +back for fear of the remarks which might be made. +So she crossed the hall and stood in the door of the +guest chamber, considering what to do next. Its usual +chill repellance had been changed into something inviting +by the wood fire on the hearth, and on the bed where +the guests had deposited their wraps lay an array +of millinery which drew her irresistibly.</p> + +<p>It was a huge four-poster bed which one could mount +only by the aid of a set of bedside steps, and so +high that the valance, draped around it like a skirt, +would have reached from her neck to her heels had it +been draped on her. It was a chintz valance with birds +of paradise patterned on its pink back-ground, and +there was pink silk quilled into the quaint tester +overhead, reminding her of old Jeremy’s favorite +quill dahlias.</p> + +<p>Usually when she went into this room which was seldom +opened, she mounted the steps to gaze up at that fascinating +pink loveliness. Also she walked around the valance, +counting its birds of paradise. She did not do so to-day. +She knew from many previous countings that there were +exactly eighty-seven and a half of those birds. The +joining seam cut off all but the magnificent tail +of what would have been the eighty-eighth.</p> + +<p>Mounting the steps she leaned over, careful not to +touch the crocheted counterpane, which Tippy always +treated as if it were something sacred, and looked +at the hats spread out upon it. Then she laid daring +fingers on Cousin Mehitable’s bonnet. It was +a temptation to know what she would look like if she +should grow up to be a widow and have to wear an imposing +head-gear like that with a white ruche in front and +a long black veil floating down behind. The next instant +she was tying the strings under her chin.</p> + +<p>It made her look like such an odd little dwarf of +a woman that she stuck out her tongue at her reflection +in the mirror. The grimace was so comical, framed +by the stately bonnet, that Georgina was delighted. +She twisted her face another way and was still more +amused at results. Wholly forgetful of the fact that +it was a mourning bonnet, she went on making faces +at herself until the sound of voices suddenly growing +louder, told her that the door across the hall had +opened. Someone was coming across.</p> + +<p>There was no time to take off the bonnet. With a frightened +gasp she dived under the bed, with it still on, her +heels disappearing just as someone came into the room. +The bed was so high she could easily sit upright under +it, but she was so afraid that a cough or a sneeze +might betray her, that she drew up her knees and sat +with her face pressed against them hard. The long +veil shrouded her shoulders. She felt that she would +surely die if anyone should notice that the bonnet +was gone, or happen to lift the valance and find her +sitting there with it on her head. Then she forgot +her fear in listening to what Cousin Mehitable was +saying.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch06-end.png"><img src="images/ch06-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_07"></a>Chapter VII</h1> +<h2>“The Tishbite”</h2> + +<p>Cousin Mehitable was speaking to Mrs. Triplett, who +seemed to be searching through bureau drawers for +something. Georgina could tell what she was doing +from the sounds which reached her. These drawers always +stuck, and had to be jerked violently until the mirror +rattled.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t bother about it, Maria. I just +made an excuse of wanting to see it, because I knew +you always kept it in here, and I wanted to get you +off by yourself for a minute’s talk with you +alone. Since I’ve been in town I’ve heard +so much about Justin and the way he is doing that I +wanted to ask somebody who knew and who could tell +me the straight of it. What’s this about his +leaving the service and going junketing off to the +interior of China on some mission of his own? Jane +tells me he got a year’s leave of absence from +the Navy just to study up some outlandish disease +that attacks the sailors in foreign ports. She says +why should he take a whole year out of the best part +of his life to poke around the huts of dirty heathen +to find out the kind of microbe that’s eating +’em? He’d ought to think of Barbara and +what’s eating her heart out. I’ve taken +a great fancy to that girl, and I’d like to give +Justin a piece of my mind. It probably wouldn’t +do a bit of good though. He always was peculiar.”</p> + +<p>Georgina could hear only a few words of the answer +because Tippy had her head in the closet now, reaching +for the box on the top shelf. She stopped her search +as soon as Cousin Mehitable said that, and the two +of them went over to the fire and talked in low tones +for a few minutes, leaning against the mantel. Georgina +heard a word now and then. Several times it was her +own name. Finally, in a louder tone Cousin Mehitable +said:</p> + +<p>“Well, I wanted to know, and I was sure you +could tell me if anyone could.”</p> + +<p>They went back across the hall to the other guests. +The instant they were gone Georgina crawled out from +under the bed with the big bonnet cocked over one +eye. Then she scudded down the hall and up the back +stairs. She knew the company would be going soon, +and she would be expected to bid them good-bye if +she were there. She didn’t want Cousin Mehitable +to kiss her again. She didn’t like her any more +since she had called her father “peculiar.”</p> + +<p>She wandered aimlessly about for a few minutes, then +pushed the door open into Mrs. Triplett’s room. +It was warm and cozy in there for a small fire still +burned in the little drum stove. She opened the front +damper to make it burn faster, and the light shone +out in four long rays which made a flickering in the +room. She sat down on the floor in front of it and +began to wonder.</p> + +<p>“What did Cousin Mehitable mean by something +eating Barby’s heart out?” Did people +die of it? She had read of the Spartan youth who let +the fox gnaw his vitals under his cloak and never +showed, even by the twitching of a muscle, that he +was in pain. Of course, she knew that no live thing +was tearing at her mother’s heart, but what if +something that she couldn’t understand was hurting +her darling Barby night and day and she was bravely +hiding it from the world like the Spartan youth?</p> + +<p>Did _all_ grown people have troubles? It +had seemed such a happy world until to-day, and now +all at once she had heard about Dan Darcy and Belle +Triplett. Nearly everyone whom the guests talked about +had borne some unhappiness, and even her own father +was “peculiar.” She wished she hadn’t +found out all these things. A great weight seemed to +settle down upon her.</p> + +<p>Thinking of Barbara in the light of what she had just +learned she recalled that she often looked sorry and +disappointed, especially after the postman had come +and gone without leaving a letter. Only this morning +Tippy had said--could it be she thought something was +wrong and was trying to comfort her?</p> + +<p>“Justin always was a poor hand for writing letters. +Many a time I’ve heard the Judge scolding and +stewing around because he hadn’t heard from +him when he was away at school. Letter writing came +so easy to the Judge he couldn’t understand +why Justin shirked it so.”</p> + +<p>Then Georgina thought of Belle in the light of what +she had just learned. Belle had carried her around +in her arms when she was first brought to live in +this old gray house by the sea. She had made a companion +of her whenever she came to visit her Aunt Maria, +and Georgina had admired her because she was so pretty +and blonde and gentle, and enjoyed her because she +was always so willing to do whatever Georgina wished. +And now to think that instead of being the like-everybody-else +kind of a young lady she seemed, she was like a heroine +in a book who had lived through trouble which would +“blight her whole life.”</p> + +<p>Sitting there on the floor with her knees drawn up +and her chin resting on them, Georgina looked into +the fire through the slits of the damper and thought +and thought. Then she looked out through the little +square window-panes across the wind-swept dunes. It +did not seem like summer with the sky all overcast +with clouds. It was more like the end of a day in +the early autumn. Life seemed overcast, too.</p> + +<p>Presently through a rift in the sky an early star +stole out, and she made a wish on it. That was one +of the things Belle had taught her. She started to +wish that Barby might be happy. But before the whispered +verse had entirely passed her lips she stopped to +amend it, adding Uncle Darcy’s name and Belle’s. +Then she stopped again, overcome by the knowledge +of all the woe in the world, and gathering all the +universe into her generous little heart she exclaimed +earnestly:</p> + +<p>“I wish _everybody in the world could be +happy_.”</p> + +<p>Having made the wish, fervently, almost fiercely, +in her intense desire to set things right, she scrambled +to her feet. There was another thing that Belle had +told her which she must do.</p> + +<p>“If you open the Bible and it chances to be +at a chapter beginning with the words, ‘It came +to pass,’ the wish will come true without fail.”</p> + +<p>Taking Tippy’s Bible from the stand beside the +bed, she opened it at random, then carried it over +to the stove in order to scan the pages by the firelight +streaming through the damper. The book opened at First +Kings, seventeenth chapter. She held it directly in +the broad rays examining the pages anxiously. There +was only that one chapter head on either page, and +alas, its opening words were not “it came to +pass.” What she read with a sinking heart was:</p> + +<p>_"And Elijah the Tishbite."_</p> + +<p>Now Georgina hadn’t the slightest idea what +a Tishbite was, but it sounded as if it were something +dreadful. Somehow it is a thousand times worse to +be scared by a fear which is not understood than by +one which is familiar. Suddenly she felt as bewildered +and frightened as she had on that morning long ago, +when Jeremy’s teeth went flying into the fire. +The happiness of her whole little world seemed to +be going to pieces.</p> + +<p>Throwing herself across the foot of Tippy’s +bed she crawled under the afghan thrown over it, even +burrowing her head beneath it in order to shut out +the dreadful things closing down on her. It had puzzled +and frightened her to know that something was eating +Barby’s heart out, even in a figurative way, +and now the word “Tishbite” filled her +with a vague sense of helplessness and impending disaster.</p> + +<p>Barbara, coming upstairs to hunt her after the guests +were gone, found her sound asleep with the afghan +still over her head. She folded it gently back from +the flushed face, not intending to waken her, but +Georgina’s eyes opened and after a bewildered +stare around the room she sat up, remembering. She +had wakened to a world of trouble. Somehow it did +not seem quite so bad with Barbara standing over her, +smiling. When she went downstairs a little later, +freshly washed and brushed, the Tishbite rolled out +of her thoughts as a fog lifts when the sun shines.</p> + +<p>But it came back at bedtime, when having said her +prayers, she joined her voice with Barbara’s +in the hymn that had been her earliest lullaby. It +was a custom never omitted. It always closed the day +for her:</p> + +<blockquote>“Eternal Father, strong to save,<br /> +Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,<br /> +Oh, hear us when we cry to thee<br /> +For those in peril on the sea."</blockquote> + +<p>As they sang she stole an anxious glance at Barbara +several times. Then she made up her mind that Cousin +Mehitable was mistaken. If her father were “peculiar,” +Barby wouldn’t have that sweet look on her face +when she sang that prayer for him. If he were making +her unhappy she wouldn’t be singing it at all. +She wouldn’t care whether he was protected or +not “from rock and tempest, fire and foe.”</p> + +<p>And yet, after Barby had gone downstairs and the sound +of the piano came softly up from below--another bedtime +custom, Georgina began thinking again about those +whispering voices which she had heard as she sat under +the bed, behind the bird-of-paradise valance. More +than ever before the music suggested someone waiting +for a ship which never came home, or fog bells on +a lonely shore.</p> + +<p>Nearly a week went by before Richard made his first +visit to the old gray house at the end of town. He +came with the Towncrier, carrying his bell, and keeping +close to his side for the first few minutes. Then he +found the place far more interesting than the bungalow. +Georgina took him all over it, from the garret where +she played on rainy days to the seat up in the willow, +where standing in its highest crotch one could look +clear across the Cape to the Atlantic. They made several +plans for their treasure-quest while up in the willow. +They could see a place off towards Wood End Lighthouse +which looked like one of the pirate places Uncle Darcy +had described in one of his tales.</p> + +<p>Barby had lemonade and cake waiting for them when +they came down, and when she talked to him it wasn’t +at all in the way the ladies did who came to see his +Aunt Letty, as if they were talking merely to be gracious +and kind to a strange little boy in whom they had no +interest. Barby gave his ear a tweak and said with +a smile that made him feel as if they had known each +other always:</p> + +<p>“Oh, the good times I’ve had with boys +just your size. I always played with my brother Eddy’s +friends. Boys make such good chums. I’ve often +thought how much Georgina misses that I had.”</p> + +<p>Presently Georgina took him out to the see-saw, where +Captain Kidd persisted in riding on Richard’s +end of the plank.</p> + +<p>“That’s exactly the way my Uncle Eddy’s +terrier used to do back in Kentucky when I visited +there one summer,” she said, after the plank +was adjusted so as to balance them properly. “Only +he barked all the time he was riding. But he was fierce +because Uncle Eddy fed him gunpowder.”</p> + +<p>“What did he do that for?”</p> + +<p>“To keep him from being gun-shy. And Uncle Eddy +ate some, too, one time when he was little, because +the colored stable boy told him it would make him +game.”</p> + +<p>“Did it?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether that did or not. +Something did though, for he’s the gamest man +I know.”</p> + +<p>Richard considered this a moment and then said: “I +wonder what it would do to Captain Kidd if I fed him +some.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s try it!” exclaimed Georgina, +delighted with the suggestion. “There’s +some hanging up in the old powder-horn over the dining-room +mantel. You have to give it to ’em in milk. Wait +a minute.”</p> + +<p>Jumping from the see-saw after giving fair warning, +she ran to one of the side windows.</p> + +<p>“Barby,” she called. “I’m +going to give Captain Kidd some milk.”</p> + +<p>Barbara turned from her conversation with Uncle Darcy +to say:</p> + +<p>“Very well, if you can get it yourself. But +be careful not to disturb the pans that haven’t +been skimmed. Tippy wouldn’t like it.”</p> + +<p>“I know what to get it out of,” called +Georgina, “out of the blue pitcher.”</p> + +<p>Richard watched while she opened the refrigerator +door and poured some milk into a saucer.</p> + +<p>“Carry it in and put it on the kitchen table,” +she bade him, “while I get the powder.”</p> + +<p>When he followed her into the dining-room she was +upon a chair, reaching for the old powder horn, which +hung on a hook under the firearm that had done duty +in the battle of Lexington. Richard wanted to get his +hands on it, and was glad when she could not pull +out the wooden plug which stopped the small end of +the horn. She turned it over to him to open. He peered +into it, then shook it.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t more than a spoonful left +in it,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Well, gunpowder is so strong you don’t +need much. You know just a little will make a gun +go off. It mightn’t be safe to feed him much. +Pour some out in your hand and drop it in the milk.”</p> + +<p>Richard slowly poured a small mound out into the hollow +of his hand, and passed the horn back to her, then +went to the kitchen whistling for Captain Kidd. Not +all of the powder went into the milk, however. The +last bit he swallowed himself, after looking at it +long and thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>At the same moment, Georgina, before putting back +the plug, paused, looked all around, and poured out +a few grains into her own hand. If the Tishbite was +going to do anybody any harm, it would be well to be +prepared. She had just hastily swallowed it and was +hanging the horn back in place, when Richard returned.</p> + +<p>“He lapped up the last drop as if he liked it,” +he reported. “Now we’ll see what happens.”</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_08"></a>Chapter VIII</h1> +<h2>The Telegram that Took Barby Away</h2> + +<p>The painting of Richard’s portrait interfered +with the quest for buried treasure from day to day; +but unbeknown either to artist or model, the dreams +of that quest helped in the fashioning of the picture. +In the preliminary sittings in the studio at home +Richard’s father found it necessary always to +begin with some exhortation such as:</p> + +<p>“Now, Dicky, this has _got_ to be +more than just a ’Study of a Boy’s Head.’ +I want to show by the expression of your face that +it is an illustration of that poem, ’A boy’s +will is the wind’s will, and the thoughts of +youth are long, long thoughts.’ Chase that Binney +Rogers and his gang out of your mind for a while, +can’t you, and think of something beside shinny +and the hokey-pokey man.”</p> + +<p>So far the portrait was satisfactory in that it was +a remarkably good likeness of an unusually good-looking +boy, but it was of a boy who seemed to be alertly +listening for such things as Binney’s cat-call, +signaling him from the alley. Here by the sea there +was no need for such exhortations. No sooner was he +seated before the easel in the loft which served as +a studio, with its barn-like, double doors thrown open +above the water, than the rapt expression which his +father coveted, crept into his dark eyes. They grew +big and dreamy, following the white sails across the +harbor. He was planning the secret expedition he and +Georgina intended to undertake, just as soon as the +portrait was finished.</p> + +<p>There were many preparations to make for it. They +would have to secrete tools and provisions; and in +a book from which Georgina read aloud whenever there +was opportunity, were descriptions of various rites +that it were well to perform. One was to sacrifice +a black cock, and sprinkle its blood upon the spot +before beginning to dig. Richard did not question +why this should be done. The book recommended it as +a practice which had been followed by some very famous +treasure hunters. If at times a certain wide-awake +and calculating gleam suddenly dispelled the dreaminess +of expression in which his father was exulting, it +was because a black Orpington rooster which daily +strayed from a nearby cottage to the beach below the +studio window, chose that moment to crow. Richard had +marked that black cock for the sacrifice. It was lordly +enough to bring success upon any enterprise.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, as soon as his duties as model were +over each morning, he was out of the studio with a +whoop and up the beach as hard as he could run to +the Huntingdon house. By the time he reached it he +was no longer the artist’s only son, hedged +about with many limitations which belonged to that +distinction. He was “Dare-devil Dick, the Dread +Destroyer,” and Georgina was “Gory George, +the Menace of the Main.”</p> + +<p>Together they commanded a brigantine of their own. +Passers-by saw only an old sailboat anchored at the +deserted and rotting wharf up nearest the breakwater. +But the passers-by who saw only that failed to see +either Dare-devil Dick or Gory George. They saw, instead, +two children whose fierce mustachios were the streakings +of a burnt match, whose massive hoop ear-rings were +the brass rings from a curtain pole, whose faithful +following of the acts of Captain Quelch and other piratical +gentlemen was only the mimicry of play.</p> + +<p>But Barbara knew how real they were, from the spotted +handkerchief tied around the “bunged eye” +of Dare-devil Dick, under his evil-looking slouch +hat, to the old horse pistol buckled to his belt. Gory +George wore the same. And Barbara knew what serious +business it was to them, even more serious than the +affairs of eating and drinking.</p> + +<p>Tippy scolded when she found that her half-pint bottles +which she kept especially for cream had been smuggled +away in the hold of the brigantine. But without bottles +how could one give a realistic touch to the singing +of “Yo ho, and the rum below”?</p> + +<p>And Tippy thought it was heathenish for Barbara to +let Georgina dress up in some little knickerbockers +and a roundabout which had been stored away with other +clothes worn by Justin as a small boy. But her disapproval +was beyond words when Barbara herself appeared at +the back door one morning, so cleverly disguised as +a gypsy, that Mrs. Triplett grudgingly handed out +some cold biscuits before she discovered the imposition. +The poor she was glad to feed, but she had no use +for an impudent, strolling gypsy.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be cross, Tippy,” pleaded +Barbara, laughing till the tears came. “I _had_ +to do it. I can’t bear to feel that Georgina +is growing away from me--that she is satisfied to +leave me out of her games. Since she’s so taken +up with that little Richard Moreland I don’t +seem as necessary to her as I used to be. And I can’t +bear that, Tippy, when I’ve always been first +in everything with her. She’s so necessary to +me.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett made no answer. She felt that she couldn’t +do justice to the occasion. She doubted if the Pilgrim +monument itself could, even if it were to stretch +itself up to its full height and deliver a lecture +on the dignity of motherhood. She wondered what the +Mayflower mothers would have thought if they could +have met this modern one on the beach, with face stained +brown, playacting that she was a beggar of a gypsy. +How could she hope to be one of those written of in +Proverbs--“Her children rise up and call her +blessed. Her own works praise her in the gates.”</p> + +<p>Tippy ate her dinner alone that day, glancing grimly +through the open window from time to time to the sand +dunes back of the house, where an old hag of a gypsy +in a short red dress with a gay bandanna knotted over +her head, broiled bacon and boiled corn over a smoky +campfire; and two swaggering villains who smelled +of tar and codfish (because of the old net which half-way +filled the brigantine), sucked the very cobs when the +corn was eaten from them, forever registering that +feast high above all other feasts in the tablet of +blessed memories.</p> + +<p>The interruption to all this came as unexpectedly +as a clap of thunder from a clear sky. A messenger +boy on a wheel whirled up to the front gate with a +telegram. Tippy signed for it, not wanting the boy +to see Barbara in such outlandish dress, then carried +it out to the picnickers. She held it under her apron +until she reached them. Telegrams always spelled trouble +to Mrs. Triplett, but Barbara took this one from her +with a smiling thank you, without, rising from her +seat on the sand. Her father often telegraphed instead +of writing when away on his vacations, and she knew +he was up at a lake resort in Michigan, at an Editors’ +Convention. Telegrams had always been pleasant things +in her experience. But as she tore this open and read +she turned pale even under her brown stain.</p> + +<p>“It’s papa,” she gasped. “Hurt +in an automobile accident. They don’t say how +bad--just hurt. And he wants me. I must take the first +train.”</p> + +<p>She looked up at Mrs. Triplett helplessly, not even +making an effort to rise from the sand, she was so +dazed and distressed by the sudden summons. It was +the first time she had ever had the shock of bad news. +It was the first time she had ever been called upon +to act for herself in such an emergency, and she felt +perfectly numb, mind and body. Tippy’s voice +sounded a mile away when she said:</p> + +<p>“You can catch the boat. It’s an hour +till the _Dorothy Bradford_ starts back +to Boston.”</p> + +<p>Still Barbara sat limp and powerless, as one sits +in a nightmare.</p> + +<p>Georgina gave a choking gasp as two awful words rose +up in her throat and stuck there. _"The Tishbite."_ +Whatever that mysterious horror might be, plainly +its evil workings had begun.</p> + +<p>“Tut!” exclaimed Tippy, pulling Barbara +to her feet. “Keep your head. You’ll have +to begin scrubbing that brown paint off your face if +you expect to reach the boat on time.”</p> + +<p>Automatically Georgina responded to that “tut” +as if it were the old challenge of the powder horn. +No matter how she shivered she must show what brave +stuff she was made of. Even with that awful foreboding +clutching at her heart like an iron hand and Barby +about to leave her, she mustn’t show one sign +of her distress.</p> + +<p>It was well that Georgina had learned to move briskly +in her long following after Tippy, else she could +not have been of such service in this emergency. Her +eyes were blurred with tears as she hurried up to the +garret for suitcase and satchel, and down the hall +to look up numbers in the telephone directory. But +it was a comfort even in the midst of her distress +to feel that she could take such an important part +in the preparations, that Tippy trusted her to do +the necessary telephoning, and to put up a lunch for +Barby without dictating either the messages or the +contents of the lunch-box.</p> + +<p>When Mr. James Milford called up, immediately after +Richard had raced home with the news, and offered +to take Mrs. Huntingdon to the boat in his machine, +he thought it was Mrs. Huntingdon herself who answered +him. The trembling voice seemed only natural under +the circumstances. He would have smiled could he have +seen the pathetic little face uplifted towards the +receiver, the quivering lip still adorned with the +fierce mustachios of Gory George, in strange contrast +to the soft curls hanging over her shoulders now that +they were no longer hidden by a piratical hat. She +had forgotten that she was in knickerbockers instead +of skirts, and that the old horse-pistol was still +at her belt, until Barbara caught her to her at parting +with a laugh that turned into a sob, looking for a +spot on her face clean enough to kiss.</p> + +<p>It was all over so soon--the machine whirling up to +the door and away again to stop at the bank an instant +for the money which Georgina had telephoned to have +waiting, and then on to the railroad wharf where the +_Dorothy Bradford_ had already sounded her +first warning whistle. Georgina had no time to realize +what was actually happening until it was over. She +climbed up into the mammoth willow tree in the corner +of the yard to watch for the steamboat. It would come +into view in a few minutes as it ploughed majestically +through the water towards the lighthouse.</p> + +<p>Then desolation fell upon her. She had never realized +until that moment how dear her mother was to her. +Then the thought came to her, suppose it was Barby +who had been hurt in an accident, and she Georgina, +was hurrying to her as Barby was hurrying to grandfather +Shirley, unknowing what awaited her at the journey’s +end. For a moment she forgot her own unhappiness at +being left behind, in sympathetic understanding of +her mother’s distress. She wasn’t going +to think about her part of it she told herself, she +was going to be so brave----</p> + +<p>Then her glance fell on the “holiday tree.”</p> + +<p>The holiday tree was a little evergreen of Barby’s +christening if not of her planting. For every gala +day in the year it bore strange fruit, no matter what +the season. At Hallowe’en it was as gay with +jack-o-lanterns and witches’ caps as if the +pixies themselves had decorated it. On Washington’s +birthday each branch was tipped with a flag and a cherry +tart. On the fourteenth of February it was hung with +valentines, and at Easter she was always sure of finding +a candy rabbit or two perched among its branches and +nests of colored eggs. It seemed to be at its best +at Christmas, but it was when it took its turns at +birthday celebrations that it was most wonderful. +Then it blossomed with little glass lanterns of every +color, glowing like red and green and golden stars. +Last year it had borne a great toy ship with all sails +set, and nine “surprise” oranges, round, +yellow boxes, each containing a gift, because she was +nine years old. In just two more days she would be +ten, and Barby gone!</p> + +<p>At that instant the boat whistle sounded long and +deep, sending its melodious boom across the water. +It seemed to strike some chord in the very center +of her being, and make her feel as if something inside +were sinking down and down and down. The sensation +was sickening. It grew worse as the boat steamed away. +She stood up on a limb to watch it. Smaller and smaller +it seemed, leaving only a long plume of smoke in its +wake as it disappeared around Long Point. Then even +the smoke faded, and a forlorn little figure, strangely +at variance with the fierce pirate suit, she crumpled +up in the crotch of the willow, her face hidden in +her elbow, and began to sob piteously: “Oh, +Barby! Barby!”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch08-end.png"><img src="images/ch08-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_09"></a>Chapter IX</h1> +<h2>The Birthday Prism</h2> + +<p>The Towncrier, passing along the street on an early +morning trip to the bakery, stopped at the door of +the antique shop, for a word with Mrs. Yates, the +lady who kept it. She wanted him to “cry” +an especial bargain sale of old lamps later in the +week. That is how he happened to be standing in the +front door when the crash came in the rear of the shop, +and it was because he was standing there that the crash +came.</p> + +<p>Because Mrs. Yates was talking to him she couldn’t +be at the back door when the fish-boy came with the +fish, and nobody being there to take it the instant +he knocked, the boy looked in and threw it down on +the table nearest the door. And because the fish was +left to lie there a moment while Mrs. Yates finished +her conversation, the cat, stretched out on the high +window ledge above the table, decided to have his breakfast +without waiting to be called. He was an enormous cat +by the name of “Grandpa,” and because +he was old and ponderous, and no longer light on his +feet, when he leaped from the windowsill he came down +clumsily in the middle of the very table _full_ +of the old lamps which were set aside for the bargain +sale.</p> + +<p>Of course, it was the biggest and fanciest lamp in +the lot that was broken--a tall one with a frosted +glass shade and a row of crystal prisms dangling around +the bowl of it. It toppled over on to a pair of old +brass andirons, smashing into a thousand pieces. Bits +of glass flew in every direction, and “Grandpa,” +his fur electrified by his fright until he looked +twice his natural size, shot through the door as if +fired from a cannon, and was seen no more that morning.</p> + +<p>Naturally, Mrs. Yates hurried to the back of the store +to see what had happened, and Mr. Darcy, following, +picked up from the wreck the only piece of the lamp +not shattered to bits by the fall. It was one of the +prisms, which in some miraculous way had survived the +crash, a beautiful crystal pendant without a single +nick or crack.</p> + +<p>He picked it up and rubbed his coat sleeve down each +of its three sides, and when he held it up to the +light it sent a ripple of rainbows dancing across +the shop. He watched them, pleased as a child; and +when Mrs. Yates, loud in her complaints of Grandpa, +came with broom and dustpan to sweep up the litter, +he bargained with her for the prism.</p> + +<p>That is how he happened to have an offering for Georgina’s +birthday when he reached the house a couple of hours +later, not knowing that it was her birthday. Nobody +had remembered it, Barby being gone.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Georgina the forlornest day she had ever +opened her eyes upon. The very fact that it was gloriously +sunny with a delicious summer breeze ruffling the +harbor and sending the white sails scudding along +like wings, made her feel all the more desolate. She +was trying her best to forget what day it was, but +there wasn’t much to keep her mind off the subject. +Even opportunities for helping Tippy were taken away, +for Belle had come to stay during Barby’s absence, +and she insisted on doing what Georgina otherwise +would have done.</p> + +<p>If Barby had been at home there would have been no +piano practice on such a gala occasion as a tenth +birthday. There would have been no time for it in +the program of joyful happenings. But because time +dragged, Georgina went to her scales and five-finger +exercises as usual. With the hour-glass on the piano +beside her, she practised not only her accustomed +time, till the sand had run half through, but until +all but a quarter of it had slipped down. Then she +sauntered listlessly out into the dining-room and +stood by one of the open windows, looking out through +the wire screen into the garden.</p> + +<p>On any other day she would have found entertainment +in the kitchen listening to Belle and Mrs. Triplett. +Belle seemed doubly interesting now that she had heard +of the unused wedding dress and the sorrow that would +“blight her whole life.” But Georgina did +not want anyone to see how bitterly she was disappointed.</p> + +<p>Just outside, so close to the window that she could +have reached out and touched it had it not been for +the screen, stood the holiday tree. It had held out +its laden arms to her on so many festal occasions that +Georgina had grown to feel that it took a human interest +in all her celebrations. To see it standing bare now, +like any ordinary tree, made her feel that her last +friend was indifferent. Nobody cared. Nobody was glad +that she was in the world. In spite of all she could +do to check them, two big tears welled up and rolled +down her cheeks; then another and another. She lifted +up the hem of her dress to wipe them away, and as she +did so Uncle Darcy came around the hoase.</p> + +<p>He looked in at the open window, then asked: “Weather +a bit squally, hey? Better put into port and tie up +till storm’s over. Let your Uncle Darcy have +a hand at the helm. Come out here, Barby, and let’s +talk it over on the door-step.”</p> + +<p>There was something so heartening in the cheery voice +that Georgina made one more dab at her eyes with the +hem of her dress skirt, then dropped it and went out +through the screen door to join him on the steps which +led down into the garden. At first she was loath to +confess the cause of her tears. She felt ashamed of +being caught crying simply because no one had remembered +the date. It wasn’t that she wanted presents, +she sobbed. It was that she wanted someone to be glad +that she’d been born and it was so lonesome +without Barby--</p> + +<p>In the midst of her reluctant confession Mr. Darcy +bethought himself of the prism in his pocket.</p> + +<p>“Here,” he said, drawing it out. “Take +this and put a rainbow around your troubles. It’s +a sort of magic glass. When you look through it, it +shows you things you can’t see with your ordinary +eyes. Look what it does to the holiday tree.”</p> + +<p>There was a long-drawn breath of amazement from Georgina +as she held the prism to her eyes and looked through +it at the tree.</p> + +<p>“Oh! Oh! It does put a rainbow around every +branch and every little tuft of green needles. It’s +even lovelier than the colored lanterns were. Isn’t +it wonderful? It puts a rainbow around the whole outdoors.”</p> + +<p>Her gaze went from the grape arbor to the back garden +gate. Then she jumped up and started around the house, +the old man following, and smiling over each enthusiastic +“oh” she uttered, as the prism showed her +new beauty at every step. He was pleased to have been +the source of her new pleasure.</p> + +<p>“It’s like looking into a different world,” +she cried, as she reached the kitchen door, and eagerly +turned the prism from one object to another. Mrs. +Triplett was scowling intently over the task of trying +to turn the lid of a glass jar which refused to budge.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it even puts a rainbow around Tippy’s +frown,” Georgina cried excitedly. Then she ran +to hold the prism over Belle’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Look what Uncle Darcy brought me for my birthday. +See how it puts a rainbow around every blessed thing, +even the old black pots and pans!”</p> + +<p>In showing it to Tippy she discovered a tiny hole +in the end of the prism by which it had been hung +from the lamp, and she ran upstairs to find a piece +of ribbon to run through it. When she came down again, +the prism hanging from her neck by a long pink ribbon, +Uncle Darcy greeted her with a new version of the +Banbury Cross song:</p> + +<blockquote>Rings on her fingers and ribbon of rose,<br /> +She shall have rainbows wherever she goes.”</blockquote> + +<p>“That’s even better than having music +wherever you go,” answered Georgina, whirling +around on her toes. Then she stopped in a listening +attitude, hearing the postman.</p> + +<p>When she came back from the front door with only a +magazine her disappointment was keen, butl she said +bravely:</p> + +<p>“Of course, I _knew_ there couldn’t +be a letter from Barby this soon. She couldn’t +get there till last night--but just for a minute I +couldn’t help hoping--but I didn’t mind +it half so much, Uncle Darcy, when I looked at the +postman through the prism. Even his whiskers were +blue and red and yellow.”</p> + +<p>That afternoon a little boat went dipping up and down +across the waves. It was _The Betsey_, with +Uncle Darcy pulling at the oars and Georgina as passenger. +Lifting the prism which still hung from her neck by +the pink ribbon, she looked out upon what seemed to +be an enchanted harbor. It was filled with a fleet +of rainbows. Every sail was outlined with one, every +mast edged with lines of red and gold and blue. Even +the gray wharves were tinged with magical color, and +the water itself, to her reverent thought, suggested +the “sea of glass mingled with fire,” which +is pictured as one of the glories of the New Jerusalem.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it _wonderful,_ Uncle +Darcy?” she asked in a hushed, awed tone. “It’s +just like a miracle the way this bit of glass changes +the whole world. Isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>Before he could answer, a shrill whistle sounded near +at hand. They were passing the boathouse on the beach +below the Green Stairs. Looking up they saw Richard, +hanging out of the open doors of the loft, waving to +them. Georgina stood up in the boat and beckoned, but +he shook his head, pointing backward with his thumb +into the studio, and disconsolately lately shrugged +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“He wants to go _so_ bad!” exclaimed +Georgina. “Seems as if his father’s a +mighty slow painter. Maybe if you’d ask him the +way you did before, Uncle Darcy, he’d let Richard +off this one more time--being my birthday, you know.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him with the bewitching smile which +he usually found impossible to resist, but this time +he shook his head.</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t want him along to-day. I’ve +brought you out here to show you something and have +a little talk with you alone. Maybe I ought to wait +till you’re older before I say what I want to +say, but at my time of life I’m liable to slip +off without much warning, and I don’t want to +go till I’ve said it to you.”</p> + +<p>Georgina put down her prism to stare at him in eager-eyed +wonder. She was curious to know what he could show +her out here on the water, and what he wanted to tell +her that was as important as his solemn words implied.</p> + +<p>“Wait till we come to it,” he said, answering +the unspoken question in her eyes. And Georgina, who +dearly loved dramatic effects in her own story-telling, +waited for something--she knew not what--to burst upon +her expectant sight.</p> + +<p>They followed the line of the beach for some time, +dodging in between motor boats and launches, under +the high railroad wharf and around the smaller ones +where the old fish-houses stood. Past groups of children, +playing in the sand they went, past artists sketching +under their white umbrellas, past gardens gay with +bright masses of color, past drying nets spread out +on the shore.</p> + +<p>Presently Uncle Darcy stopped rowing and pointed across +a vacant strip of beach between two houses, to one +on the opposite side of the street.</p> + +<p>“There it is,” he announced. “That’s +what I wanted to show you.”</p> + +<p>Georgina followed the direction of his pointing finger.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that!” she said in a disappointed +tone. “I’ve seen that all my life. It’s +nothing but the Figurehead House.”</p> + +<p>She was looking at a large white house with a portico +over the front door, on the roof of which portico +was perched half of the wooden figure of a woman. +It was of heroic size, head thrown back as if looking +off to sea, and with a green wreath in its hands. +Weather-beaten and discolored, it was not an imposing +object at first glance, and many a jibe and laugh +it had called forth from passing tourists.</p> + +<p>Georgina’s disappointment showed in her face.</p> + +<p>“I know all about that,” she remarked. +“Mrs. Tupman told me herself. She calls it the +Lady of Mystery. She said that years and years ago +a schooner put out from this town on a whaling cruise, +and was gone more than a year. When it was crossing +the equator, headed for home, the look-out at the +masthead saw a strange object in the water that looked +like a woman afloat. The Captain gave orders to lower +the boats, and when they did so they found this figurehead. +She said it must have come from the prow of some great +clipper in the East India trade. They were in the +Indian Ocean, you know.</p> + +<p>“There had been some frightful storms and afterwards +they heard of many wrecks. This figurehead was so +long they had to cut it in two to get it into the +hold of the vessel. They brought it home and set it +up there over the front door, and they call it the +Lady of Mystery, because they said ’from whence +that ship came, what was its fate and what was its +destination will always be shrouded in mystery.’ +And Mrs. Tupman said that a famous artist looked at +it once and said it was probably the work of a Spanish +artist, and that from the pose of its head and the +wreath in its hands he was sure it was intended to +represent Hope. Was _that_ what you were +going to tell me?”</p> + +<p>The old man had rested on his oars while she hurried +through this tale, with a mischievous twinkle in her +eyes, as if she thought she was forestalling him. +Now he picked them up again and began rowing out into +the harbor.</p> + +<p>“That was a part of it,” he admitted, +“but that’s only the part that the whole +town knows. That old figurehead has a meaning for me +that nobody else that’s living knows about. +That’s what I want to pass on to you.”</p> + +<p>He rowed several minutes more before he said slowly, +with a wistful tenderness coming into his dim old +eyes as he looked at her:</p> + +<p>“Georgina, I don’t suppose anybody’s +ever told you about the troubles I’ve had. They +wouldn’t talk about such things to a child like +you. Maybe I shouldn’t, now; but when I saw +how disappointed you were this morning, I said to +myself, ’If she’s old enough to feel trouble +that way, she’s old enough to understand and +to be helped by hearing about mine.’”</p> + +<p>It seemed hard for him to go on, for again he paused, +looking off toward the lighthouse in the distance. +Then he said slowly, in a voice that shook at times:</p> + +<p>“Once--I had a boy--that I set all my hopes +on--just as a man puts all his cargo into one vessel; +and nobody was ever prouder than I was, when that +little craft went sailing along with the best of them. +I used to look at him and think, _’Danny’ll_ +weather the seas no matter how rough they are, and +he’ll bring up in the harbor I’m hoping +he’ll reach, with all flags flying.’ And +then--something went wrong--”</p> + +<p>The tremulous voice broke. “My little ship went +down--all my precious cargo lost--”</p> + +<p>Another and a longer pause. In it Georgina seemed +to hear Cousin Mehitable’s husky voice, half +whispering:</p> + +<p>_"And the lamp threw a shadow on the yellow blind, +plain as a photograph. The shadow of an old man sitting +with his arms flung out across the table and his head +bowed on-them. And he was groaning, ’Oh, my +Danny! My Danny! If you could only have gone that way.’"_</p> + +<p>For a moment Georgina felt the cruel hurt of his grief +as if the pain had stabbed her own heart. The old +man went on:</p> + +<p>“If it had only been any other kind of a load, +anything but _disgrace_, I could have carried +it without flinching. But that, it seemed I just couldn’t +face. Only the good Lord knows how I lived through +those first few weeks. Then your grandfather Huntingdon +came to me. He was always a good friend. And he asked +me to row him out here on the water. When we passed +the Figurehead House he pointed up at that head. It +was all white and fair in those days, before the paint +wore off. And he said, ’Dan’l Darcy, _as +long as a man keeps Hope at the prow he keeps afloat_. +As soon as he drops it he goes to pieces and down to +the bottom, the way that ship did when it lost its +figurehead. You mustn’t let go, Dan’l. +You _must_ keep Hope at the prow.</p> + +<p>“’Somewhere in God’s universe either +in this world or another your boy is alive and still +your son. You’ve got to go on hoping that if +he’s innocent his name will be cleared of this +disgrace, and if he’s guilty he’ll wipe +out the old score against him some way and make good.’</p> + +<p>“And then he gave me a line to live by. A line +he said that had been written by a man who was stone +blind, and hadn’t anything to look forward to +all the rest of his life but groping in the dark. He +said he’d not</p> + +<blockquote> “’Bate a jot<br /> +Of heart or hope, but still bear up and steer<br /> +Right onward.’</blockquote> + +<p>“At first it didn’t seem to mean anything +to me, but he made me say it after him as if it were +a sort of promise, and I’ve been saying it every +day of every year since then. I’d said it to +myself first, when I met people on the street that +I knew were thinking of Danny’s disgrace, and +I didn’t see how I was going to get up courage +to pass ’em. And I said it when I was lying +on my bed at night with my heart so sore and heavy +I couldn’t sleep, and after a while it did begin +to put courage into me, so that I could hope in earnest. +And when I did _that,_ little lass--”</p> + +<p>He leaned over to smile into her eyes, now full of +tears, he had so wrought upon her tender sympathies--</p> + +<p>“When I did that, it put a rainbow around my +trouble just as that prism did around your empty holiday +tree. It changed the looks of the whole world for +me.</p> + +<p>“_That’s_ what I brought you +out here to tell you, Georgina. I want to give you +the same thing that your grandfather Huntingdon gave +me--that line to live by. Because troubles come to +everybody. They’ll come to you, too, but I want +you to know this, Baby, they can’t hurt you as +long as you keep Hope at the prow, because Hope is +a magic glass that makes rainbows of our tears. Now +you won’t forget that, will you? Even after +Uncle Darcy is dead and gone, you’ll remember +that he brought you out here on your birthday to give +you that good word--_’still bear up and +steer right onward,’_ no matter what happens. +And to tell you that in all the long, hard years he’s +lived through, he’s proved it was good.”</p> + +<p>Georgina, awed and touched of soul, could only nod +her assent. But because Childhood sometimes has no +answer to make to the confidences of Age is no reason +that they are not taken to heart and stowed away there +for the years to build upon. In the unbroken silence +with which they rowed back to shore, Georgina might +have claimed three score years besides her own ten, +so perfect was the feeling of comradeship between +them.</p> + +<p>As they passed the pier back of the antique shop, +a great gray cat rose and stretched itself, then walked +ponderously down to the water’s edge. It was +“Grandpa.” Georgina, laughing a little +shakily because of recent tears, raised her prism +to put a rainbow around the cat’s tail, unknowing +that but for him the crystal pendant would now be hanging +from an antique lamp instead of from the ribbon around +her neck.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch09-end.png"><img src="images/ch09-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_10"></a>Chapter X</h1> +<h2>Moving Pictures</h2> + +<p>It often happens that when one is all primed and cocked +for trouble, that trouble flaps its wings and flies +away for a time, leaving nothing to fire at. So Georgina, +going home with her prism and her “line to live +by,” ready and eager to prove how bravely she +could meet disappointments, found only pleasant surprises +awaiting her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett had made a birthday cake in her absence. +It was on the supper table with ten red candles atop. +And there was a note from Barby beside her plate which +had come in the last mail. It had been posted at some +way-station. There was a check inside for a dollar +which she was to spend as she pleased. A dear little +note it was, which made Georgina’s throat ache +even while it brought a glow to her heart. Then Belle, +who had not known it was her birthday in time to make +her a present, announced that she would take her to +a moving picture show after supper, instead.</p> + +<p>Georgina had frequently been taken to afternoon performances, +but never at night. It was an adventure in itself +just to be down in the part of town where the shops +were, when they were all lighted, and when the summer +people were surging along the board-walk and out into +the middle of the narrow street in such crowds that +the automobiles and “accommodations” had +to push their way through slowly, with a great honking +of warning horns.</p> + +<p>The Town Hall was lighted for a dance when they passed +it. The windows of the little souvenir shops seemed +twice as attractive as when seen by day, and early +as it was in the evening, people were already lined +up in the drug-store, three deep around the soda-water +fountain.</p> + +<p>Georgina, thankful that Tippy had allowed her to wear +her gold locket for the occasion, walked down the +aisle and took her seat near the stage, feeling as +conspicuous and self-conscious as any debutante entering +a box at Grand Opera.</p> + +<p>It was a hot night, but on a line with the front seats, +there was a double side door opening out onto a dock. +From where Georgina sat she could look out through +the door and see the lights of a hundred boats twinkling +in long wavy lines across the black water, and now +and then a salt breeze with the fishy tang she loved, +stole across the room and touched her cheek like a +cool finger.</p> + +<p>The play was not one which Barbara would have chosen +for Georgina to see, being one that was advertised +as a thriller. It was full of hair-breadth escapes +and tragic scenes. There was a shipwreck in it, and +passengers were brought ashore in the breeches buoy, +just as she had seen sailors brought in on practice +days over at the Race Point Lifesaving station. And +there was a still form stretched out stark and dripping +under a piece of tarpaulin, and a girl with long fair +hair streaming wildly over her shoulders knelt beside +it wringing her hands.</p> + +<p>Georgina stole a quick side-glance at Belle. That +was the way it had been in the story of Emmett Potter’s +drowning, as they told it on the day of Cousin Mehitable’s +visit. Belle’s hands were locked together in +her lap, and her lips were pressed in a thin line +as if she were trying to keep from saying something. +Several times in the semi-darkness of the house her +handkerchief went furtively to her eyes.</p> + +<p>Georgina’s heart beat faster. Somehow, with +the piano pounding out that deep tum-tum, like waves +booming up on the rocks, she began to feel strangely +confused, as if _she_ were the heroine on +the films; as if _she_ were kneeling there +on the shore in that tragic moment of parting from +her dead lover. She was sure that she knew exactly +how Belle felt then, how she was feeling now.</p> + +<p>When the lights were switched on again and they rose +to go out, Georgina was so deeply under the spell +of the play that it gave her a little shock of surprise +when Belle began talking quite cheerfully and in her +ordinary manner to her next neighbor. She even laughed +in response to some joking remark as they edged their +way slowly up the aisle to the door. It seemed to +Georgina that if she had lived through a scene like +the one they had just witnessed, she could never smile +again. On the way out she glanced up again at Belie +several times, wondering.</p> + +<p>Going home the street was even more crowded than it +had been coming. They could barely push their way +along, and were bumped into constantly by people dodging +back to escape the jam when the crowd had to part to +let a vehicle through. But after a few blocks of such +jostling the going was easier. The drug-store absorbed +part of the throng, and most of the procession turned +up Carver Street to the Gifford House and the cottages +beyond on Bradford Street.</p> + +<p>By the time Georgina and Belle came to the last half-mile +of the plank walk, scarcely a footstep sounded behind +them. After passing the Green Stairs there was an +unobstructed view of the harbor. A full moon was high +overhead, flooding the water and beach with such a +witchery of light that Georgina moved along as if +she were in a dream--in a silver dream beside a silver +sea.</p> + +<p>Belle pointed to a little pavilion in sight of the +breakwater. “Let’s go over there and sit +down a few minutes,” she said. “It’s +a waste of good material to go indoors on a night +like this.”</p> + +<p>They crossed over, sinking in the sand as they stepped +from the road to the beach, till Georgina had to take +off her slippers and shake them before she could settle +down comfortably on the bench in the pavilion. They +sat there a while without speaking, just as they had +sat before the pictures on the films, for never on +any film was ever shown a scene of such entrancing +loveliness as the one spread out before them. In the +broad path made by the moon hung ghostly sails, rose +great masts, twinkled myriads of lights. It was so +still they could hear the swish of the tide creeping +up below, the dip of near-by oars and the chug of a +motor boat, far away down by the railroad wharf.</p> + +<p>Then Belle began to talk. She looked straight out +across the shining path of the moon and spoke as if +she were by herself. She did not look at Georgina, +sitting there beside her. Perhaps if she had, she would +have realized that her listener was only a child and +would not have said all she did. Or maybe, something +within her felt the influence of the night, the magical +drawing of the moon as the tide feels it, and she could +not hold back the long-repressed speech that rose +to her lips. Maybe it was that the play they had seen, +quickened old memories into painful life again.</p> + +<p>It was on a night just like this, she told Georgina, +that Emmett first told her that he cared for her--ten +years ago this summer. Ten years! The whole of Georgina’s +little lifetime! And now Belle was twenty-seven. Twenty-seven +seemed very old to Georgina. She stole another upward +glance at her companion. Belle did not look old, sitting +there in her white dress, like a white moonflower +in that silver radiance, a little lock of soft blonde +hair fluttering across her cheek.</p> + +<p>In a rush of broken sentences with long pauses between +which somehow told almost as much as words, Belle +recalled some of the scenes of that summer, and Georgina, +who up to this night had only glimpsed the dim outlines +of romance, as a child of ten would glimpse them through +old books, suddenly saw it face to face, and thereafter +found it something to wonder about and dream sweet, +vague dreams over.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Belle stood up with a complete change of +manner.</p> + +<p>“My! it must be getting late,” she said +briskly. “Aunt Maria will scold if I keep you +out any longer.”</p> + +<p>Going home, she was like the Belle whom Georgina had +always known--so different from the one lifting the +veil of memories for the little while they sat in +the pavilion.</p> + +<p>Georgina had thought that with no Barby to “button +her eyes shut with a kiss” at the end of her +birthday, the going-to-sleep time would be sad. But +she was so busy recalling the events of the day that +she never thought of the omitted ceremony. For a long +time she lay awake, imagining all sorts of beautiful +scenes in which she was the heroine.</p> + +<p>First, she went back to what Uncle Darcy had told +her, and imagined herself as rescuing an only child +who was drowning. The whole town stood by and cheered +when she came up with it, dripping, and the mother +took her in her arms and said, _"You_ are +our prism, Georgina Huntingdon! But for your noble +act our lives would be, indeed, desolate. It is you +who have filled them with rainbows.”</p> + +<p>Then she was in a ship crossing the ocean, and a poor +sailor hearing her speak of Cape Cod would come and +ask her to tell him of its people, and she would find +he was Danny. She would be the means of restoring him +to his parents.</p> + +<p>And then, she and Richard on some of their treasure-hunting +expeditions which they were still planning every time +they met, would unearth a casket some dark night by +the light of a fitful lantern, and inside would be +a confession written by the man who had really stolen +the money, saying that Dan Darcy was innocent. And +Uncle Darcy and Aunt Elspeth would be so heavenly +glad--The tears came to Georgina’s eyes as she +pictured the scene in the little house in Fishburn +Court, it came to her so vividly.</p> + +<p>The clock downstairs struck twelve, but still she +went on with the pleasing pictures moving through +her mind as they had moved across the films earlier +in the evening. The last one was a combination of what +she had seen there and what Belle had told her.</p> + +<p>She was sitting beside a silver sea across which a +silver moon was making a wonderful shining path of +silver ripples, and somebody was telling her-- what +Emmett had told Belle ten years ago. And she knew past +all doubting that if that shadowy somebody beside +her should die, she would carry the memory of him +to her grave as Belle was doing. It seemed such a sweet, +sad way to live that she thought it would be more interesting +to have her life like that, than to have it go along +like the lives of all the married people of her acquaintance. +And if _he_ had a father like Emmett’s +father she would cling to him as Belle did, and go +to see him often and take the part of a real daughter +to him. But she wouldn’t want him to be like +Belle’s “Father Potter.” He was an +old fisherman, too crippled to follow the sea any +longer, so now he was just a mender of nets, sitting +all day knotting twine with dirty tar-blackened fingers.</p> + +<p>The next morning when she went downstairs it was Belle +and not Mrs. Triplett who was stepping about the kitchen +in a big gingham apron, preparing breakfast. Mrs. +Triplett was still in bed. Such a thing had never +happened before within Georgina’s recollection.</p> + +<p>“It’s the rheumatism in her back,” +Belle reported. “It’s so bad she can’t +lie still with any comfort, and she can’t move +without groaning. So she’s sort of ‘between +the de’il and the deep sea.’ And touchy +is no name for it. She doesn’t like it if you +don’t and she doesn’t like it if you do; +but you can’t wonder when the pain’s so +bad. It’s pretty near lumbago.”</p> + +<p>Georgina, who had finished her dressing by tying the +prism around her neck, was still burning with the +desire which Uncle Darcy’s talk had kindled +within her, to be a little comfort to everybody.</p> + +<p>“Let me take her toast and tea up to her,” +she begged. With that toast and tea she intended to +pass along the good word Uncle Darcy had given her--“the +line to live by.” But Tippy was in no humor to +be adjured by a chit of a child to bear up and steer +right onward. Such advice would have been coldly received +just then even from her minister.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know what you’re talking +about,” she exclaimed testily. “Bear up? +Of course I’ll bear up. There’s nothing +else _to_ do with rheumatism, but you needn’t +come around with any talk of putting rainbows around +it or me either.”</p> + +<p>She gave her pillow an impatient thump with her hard +knuckles.</p> + +<p>“Deliver me from people who make it their business +in life always to act cheerful no matter _what._ +The Scripture itself says ’There’s a time +to laugh and a time to weep, a time to mourn and a +time to dance.’ When the weeping time comes +I can’t abide either people or books that go +around spreading cheerful sayings on everybody like +salve!”</p> + +<p>Tippy, lying there with her hair screwed into a tight +little button on the top of her head, looked strangely +unlike herself. Georgina descended to the kitchen, +much offended. It hurt her feelings to have her good +offices spurned in such a way. She didn’t care +how bad anybody’s rheumatism was she muttured. +“It was no excuse for saying such nasty things +to people who were trying to be kind to them.”</p> + +<p>Belle suggested presently that the customary piano +practice be omitted that morning for fear it might +disturb Aunt Maria, so when the usual little tasks +were done Georgina would have found time dragging, +had it not been for the night letter which a messenger +boy brought soon after breakfast. Grandfather Shirley +was better than she had expected to find him, Barby +wired. Particulars would follow soon in a letter. It +cheered Georgina up so much that she took a pencil +and tablet of paper up into the willow tree and wrote +a long account to her mother of the birthday happenings. +What with the red-candled cake and the picture show +and the afternoon in the boat it sounded as if she +had had a very happy day. But mostly she wrote about +the prism, and what Uncle Darcy had told her about +the magic glass of Hope. When it was done she went +in to Belle.</p> + +<p>“May I go down to the post-office to mail this +and stop on my way back at the Green Stairs and see +if Richard can come and play with me?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Belle considered. “Better stay down at the Milford’s +to do your playing,” she answered. “It +might bother Aunt Maria to have a boy romping around +here.”</p> + +<p>So Georgina fared forth, after taking off her prism +and hanging it in a safe place. Only Captain Kidd +frisked down to meet her when she stood under the +studio window and gave the alley yodel which Richard +had taught her. There was no answer. She repeated +it several times, and then Mr. Moreland appeared at +the window, in his artist’s smock with a palette +on his thumb and a decidedly impatient expression +on his handsome face. Richard was posing, he told +her, and couldn’t leave for half an hour. His +tone was impatient, too, for he had just gotten a good +start after many interruptions.</p> + +<p>Undecided whether to go back home or sit down on the +sand and wait, Georgina stood looking idly about her. +And while she hesitated, Manuel and Joseph and Rosa +came straggling along the beach in search of adventure.</p> + +<p>It came to Georgina like an inspiration that it wasn’t +Barby who had forbidden her to play with them, it +was Tippy. And with a vague feeling that she was justified +in disobeying her because of her recent crossness, +she rounded them up for a chase over the granite slabs +of the breakwater. If they would be Indians, she proposed, +she’d be the Deerslayer, like the hero of the +Leather-Stocking Tales, and chase ’em with a +gun.</p> + +<p>They had never heard of those tales, but they were +more than willing to undertake any game which Georgina +might propose. So after a little coaching in war-whoops, +with a battered tin pan for a tom-tom, three impromptu +Indians sped down the beach under the studio windows, +pursued by a swift-footed Deerslayer with flying curls. +The end of a broken oar was her musket, which she +brandished fiercely as she echoed their yells.</p> + +<p>Mr. Moreland gave a groan of despair as he looked +at his model when those war-whoops broke loose. Richard, +who had succeeded after many trials in lapsing into +the dreamy attitude which his father wanted, started +up at the first whoop, so alert and interested that +his nostrils quivered. He scented excitement of some +kind and was so eager to be in the midst of it that +the noise of the tom-tom made him wriggle in his chair.</p> + +<p>He looked at his father appealingly, then made an +effort to settle down into his former attitude. His +body assumed the same listless pose as before, but +his eyes were so eager and shining with interest that +they fairly spoke each time the rattly drumming on +the tin pan sounded a challenge.</p> + +<p>“It’s no use, Dicky,” said his father +at last. “It’s all up with us for this +time. You might as well go on. But I wish that little +tom-boy had stayed at home.”</p> + +<p>And Richard went, with a yell and a hand-spring, to +throw in his lot with Manuel and Joseph and be chased +by the doughty Deer-slayer and her hound. In the readjustment +of parts Rosa was told to answer to the name of Hector. +It was all one to Rosa whether she was hound or redskin, +so long as she was allowed a part in the thrilling +new game. Richard had the promise of being Deer-slayer +next time they played it.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch10-end.png"><img src="images/ch10-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_11"></a>Chapter XI</h1> +<h2>The Old Rifle Gives Up Its Secret</h2> + +<p>Out of that game with forbidden playmates, grew events +which changed the lives of several people. It began +by Richard’s deciding that a real gun was necessary +for his equipment if he was to play the part of Leather-Stocking +properly. Also, he argued, it would be a valuable addition +to their stock of fire-arms. The broken old horse-pistols +were good enough to play at pirating with, but something +which would really shoot was needed when they started +out in earnest on a sure-enough adventure.</p> + +<p>Georgina suggested that he go to Fishburn Court and +borrow a rifle that she had seen up in Uncle Darcy’s +attic. She would go with him and do the asking, she +added, but Belle had promised to take her with her +the next time she went to see the net-mender, and +the next time would be the following afternoon, if +Tippy was well enough to be up and around. Georgina +couldn’t miss the chance to see inside the cottage +that had been the home of a hero and Belle’s +drowned lover. She wanted to see the newspaper which +Mr. Potter showed everybody who went to the house. +It had an account of the wreck and the rescue in it, +with Emmett’s picture on the front page, and +black headlines under it that said, “Died like +a hero.”</p> + +<p>Tippy was well enough to be up next day, so Richard +went alone to Fishburn Court, and Georgina trudged +along the sandy road with Belle to the weather-beaten +cottage on the edge of the cranberry bog. Belle told +her more about the old man as they walked along.</p> + +<p>“Seems as if he just lives on that memory. He +can’t get out in the boats any more, being so +crippled up, and he can’t see to read much, so +there’s lots of time for him to sit and think +on the past. If it wasn’t for the nets he’d +about lose his mind. I wouldn’t say it out, and +you needn’t repeat it, but sometimes I think +it’s already touched a mite. You see the two +of them lived there together so long alone, that Emmett +was all in all to his father. I suppose that’s +why Emmett is all he can talk about now.”</p> + +<p>When they reached the cottage Mr. Potter was sitting +out in front as usual, busy with his work. Georgina +was glad that he did not offer to shake hands. His +were so dirty and black with tar she felt she could +not bear to touch them. He was a swarthy old man with +skin like wrinkled leather, and a bushy, grizzled +beard which grew up nearly to his eyes. Again Georgina +wondered, looking at Belle in her crisp, white dress +and white shoes. How could she care for this unkempt +old creature enough to call him Father?</p> + +<p>As she followed Belle around inside the dreary three-room +cottage she wanted to ask if this would have been +her home if Emmett had not been drowned, but she felt +a delicacy about asking such a question. She couldn’t +imagine Belle in such a setting, but after she had +followed her around a while longer she realized that +the house wouldn’t stay dreary with such a mistress. +In almost no time the place was put to rights, and +there was a pan of cookies ready to slip into the oven.</p> + +<p>When the smell of their browning stole out to the +front door the old man left his bench and came in +to get a handful of the hot cakes. Then, just as Belle +said he would, he told Georgina all that had happened +the night of the wreck.</p> + +<p>“That’s the very chair he was sittin’ +in, when Luke Jones come in with the word that men +were needed. He started right off with Luke soon as +he could get into his oil-skins, for ‘twas stormin’ +to beat the band. But he didn’t go fur. Almost +no time it seemed like, he was comin’ into the +house agin, and he went into that bedroom there, and +shet the door behind him. That of itself ought to +’uv made me know something out of the usual +was beginnin’ to happen, for he never done such +a thing before. A few minutes later he came out with +an old rifle that him and Dan Darcy used to carry +around in the dunes for target shootin’ and he +set it right down in that corner by the chimney jamb.</p> + +<p>“‘First time anybody passes this way goin’ +down ito Fishburn Court,’ he says, ’I +wish you’d send this along to Uncle Dan’l. +It’s his by rights, and he’d ought a had +it long ago.’</p> + +<p>“An’ them was his last words to me, except +as he pulled the door to after him he called ‘Good-bye +Pop, if I don’t see you agin.’</p> + +<p>“I don’t know when he’d done such +a thing before as to say good-bye when he went out, +and I’ve often wondered over it sence, could +he ’a had any warnin’ that something was +goin’ to happen to him?”</p> + +<p>Georgina gazed at the picture in the newspaper long +and curiously. It had been copied from a faded tin-type, +but even making allowances for that Emmett didn’t +look as she imagined a hero should, nor did it seem +possible it could be the man Belle had talked about. +She wished she hadn’t seen it. It dimmed the +glamor of romance which seemed to surround him like +a halo. Hearing about him in the magical moonlight +she had pictured him as looking as Sir Galahad. But +if _this_ was what he really looked like--Again +she glanced wonderingly at Belle. How could she care +so hard for ten long years for just an ordinary man +like that?</p> + +<p>When it was time to go home Belle suggested that they +walk around by Fishburn Court. It would be out of +their way, but she had heard that Aunt Elspeth wasn’t +as well as usual.</p> + +<p>“Emmett always called her Aunt,” she explained +to Georgina as they walked along, “so I got +into the way of doing it, too. He was so fond of Dan’s +mother. She was so good to him after his own went that +I feel I want to be nice to her whenever I can, for +his sake.”</p> + +<p>“You know,” she continued, “Aunt +Elspeth never would give up but that Dan was innocent, +and since her memory’s been failing her this +last year, she talks all the time about his coming +home; just lies there in bed half her time and babbles +about him. It almost kills Uncle Dan’l to hear +her, because, of course, he knows the truth of the +matter, that Dan _was_ guilty. He as good +as confessed it before he ran away, and the running +away itself told the story.”</p> + +<p>When they reached Fishburn Court they could see two +people sitting in front of the cottage. Uncle Darcy +was in an armchair on the grass with one of the cats +in his lap, and Richard sat on one seat of the red, +wooden swing with Captain Kidd on the opposite site +one. Richard had a rifle across his knees, the one +Georgina had suggested borrowing. He passed his hand +caressingly along its stock now and then, and at intervals +raised it to sight along the barrel. It was so heavy +he could not keep it from wobbling when he raised +it to take aim in various directions.</p> + +<p>At the click of the gate-latch the old man tumbled +Yellownose out of his lap and rose stiffly to welcome +his guests.</p> + +<p>“Come right in,” he said cordially. “Mother’ll +be glad to see you, Belle. She’s been sort of +low in her mind lately, and needs cheering up.”</p> + +<p>He led the way into a low-ceilinged, inner bedroom +with the shades all pulled down. It was so dark, compared +to the glaring road they had been following, that +Georgina blinked at the dim interior. She could scarcely +make out the figure on the high-posted bed, and drew +back, whispering to Belle that she’d stay outside +until they were ready to go home. Leaving them on +the threshold, she went back to the shady door-yard +to a seat in the swing beside Captain Kidd.</p> + +<p>“It’s Uncle Darcy’s son’s +rifle,” explained Richard. “He’s +been telling me about him. Feel how smooth the stock +is.”</p> + +<p>Georgina reached over and passed her hand lightly +along the polished wood.</p> + +<p>“He and a friend of his called Emmett Potter +used to carry it on the dunes sometimes to shoot at +a mark with. It wasn’t good for much else, it’s +so old. Dan got it in a trade once; traded a whole +litter of collie pups for it. Uncle Darcy says he’d +forgotten there was such a gun till somebody brought +it to him after Emmett was drowned.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” interrupted Georgina, her eyes wide +with interest. “Emmett’s father has just +been telling me about this very rifle. But I didn’t +dream it was the one I’d seen up in the attic +here. He showed me the corner where Emmett stood it +when he left for the wreck, and told what was to be +done with it. ‘Them were his last words,’” +she added, quoting Mr. Potter.</p> + +<p>She reached out her hand for the clumsy old firearm +and almost dropped it, finding it so much heavier +than she expected. She wanted to touch with her own +fingers the weapon that had such an interesting history, +and about which a hero had spoken his last words.</p> + +<p>“The hammer’s broken,” continued +Richard. “Whoever brought it home let it fall. +It’s all rusty, too, because it was up in the +attic so many years and the roof leaked on it. But +Uncle Darcy said lots of museums would be glad to +have it because there aren’t many of these old +flint-locks left now. He’s going to leave it +to the Pilgrim museum up by the monument when he’s +dead and gone, but he wants to keep it as long as he +lives because Danny set such store by it.”</p> + +<p>“There’s some numbers or letters or something +on it,” announced Georgina, peering at a small +brass plate on the stock. “I can’t make +them out. I tell you what let’s do,” she +exclaimed in a burst of enthusiasm. “Let’s +polish it up so’s we can read them. Tippy uses +vinegar and wood ashes for brass. I’ll run get +some.”</p> + +<p>Georgina was enough at home here to find what she +wanted without asking, and as full of resources as +Robinson Crusoe. She was back in a very few minutes +with a shovel full of ashes from the kitchen stove, +and an old can lid full of vinegar, drawn from a jug +in the corner cupboard. With a scrap of a rag dipped +first in vinegar, then in ashes, she began scrubbing +the brass plate diligently. It had corroded until there +was an edge of green entirely around it.</p> + +<p>“I love to take an old thing like this and scrub +it till it shines like gold,” she said, scouring +away with such evident enjoyment of the job that Richard +insisted on having a turn. She surrendered the rag +grudgingly, but continued to direct operations.</p> + +<p>“Now dip it in the ashes again. No, not that +way, double the rag up and use more vinegar. Rub around +that other corner a while. Here, let me show you.”</p> + +<p>She took the rifle away from him again and proceeded +to illustrate her advice. Suddenly she looked up, +startled.</p> + +<p>“I believe we’ve rubbed it loose. It moved +a little to one side. See?”</p> + +<p>He grabbed it back and examined it closely. “I +bet it’s meant to move,” he said finally. +“It looks like a lid, see! It slides sideways.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I remember now,” she cried, much +excited. “That’s the way Leather-Stocking’s +rifle was made. There was a hole in the stock with +a brass plate over it, and he kept little pieces of +oiled deer-skin inside of it to wrap bullets in before +he loaded ’em in. I remember just as plain, the +place in the story where he stopped to open it and +take out a piece of oiled deer-skin when he started +to load.”</p> + +<p>As she explained she snatched the rifle back into +her own hands once more, and pried at the brass plate +until she broke the edge of her thumb nail. Then Richard +took it, and with the aid of a rusty button-hook which +he happened to have in his pocket, having found it +on the street that morning, he pushed the plate entirely +back.</p> + +<p>“There’s something white inside!” +he exclaimed. Instantly two heads bent over with his +in an attempt to see, for Captain Kidd’s shaggy +hair was side by side with Georgina’s curls, +his niriosity as great as hers.</p> + +<p>“Whatever’s in there has been there an +awful long time,” said Richard as he poked at +the contents with his button-hook, “for Uncle +Darcy said the rifle’s never been used since +it was brought back to him.”</p> + +<p>“And it’s ten years come Michaelmas since +Emmett was drowned,” said Georgina, again quoting +the old net-mender.</p> + +<p>The piece of paper which they finally succeeded in +drawing out had been folded many times and crumpled +into a flat wad. Evidently the message on it had been +scrawled hastily in pencil by someone little used to +letter writing. It was written in an odd hand, and +the united efforts of the two little readers could +decipher only parts of it.</p> + +<p>“I can read any kind of plain writing like they +do in school,” said Richard, “but not +this sharp-cornered kind where the m’s and u’s +are alike, and all the tails are pointed.”</p> + +<p>Slowly they puzzled out parts of it, halting long +over some of the undecipherable words, but a few words +here and there were all they could recognize. There +were long stretches that had no meaning whatever for +them. This much, however, they managed to spell out:</p> + +<p>“Dan never took the money.... I did it.... He +went away because he knew I did it and wouldn’t +tell.... Sorry.... Can’t stand it any longer.... +Put an end to it all....”</p> + +<p>It was signed “Emmett Potter.”</p> + +<p>The two children looked at each other with puzzled +eyes until into Georgina’s came a sudden and +startled understanding. Snatching up the paper she +almost fell out of the swing and ran towards the house +screaming:</p> + +<p>“Uncle Darcy! Uncle Darcy! Look what we’ve +found.”</p> + +<p>She tripped over a piece of loose carpet spread just +inside the front door as a rug and fell full length, +but too excited to know that she had skinned her elbow +she scrambled up, still calling:</p> + +<p>“Uncle Darcy, _Dan never took the money. +It was Emmett Potter. He said so himself!"_</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch11-end.png"><img src="images/ch11-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_12"></a>Chapter XII</h1> +<h2>A Hard Promise</h2> + +<p>A dozen times in Georgina’s day-dreaming she +had imagined this scene. She had run to Uncle Darcy +with the proof of Dan’s innocence, heard his +glad cry, seen his face fairly transfigured as he +read the confession aloud. Now it was actually happening +before her very eyes, but where was the scene of heavenly +gladness that should have followed?</p> + +<p>Belle, startled even more than he by Georgina’s +outcry, and quicker to act, read the message over +his shoulder, recognized the handwriting and grasped +the full significance of the situation before he reached +the name at the end. For ten years three little notes +in that same peculiar hand had lain in her box of +keepsakes. There was no mistaking that signature. +She had read it and cried over it so many times that +now as it suddenly confronted her with its familiar +twists and angles it was as startling as if Emmett’s +voice had called to her.</p> + +<p>As Uncle Darcy looked up from the second reading, +with a faltering exclamation of thanksgiving, she +snatched the paper from his shaking hands and tore +it in two. Then crumpling the pieces and flinging them +from her, she seized him by the wrists.</p> + +<p>“No, you’re _not_ going to tell +the whole world,” she cried wildly, answering +the announcement he made with the tears raining down +his cheeks. “You’re not going to tell +anybody! Think of me! Think of Father Potter!”</p> + +<p>She almost screamed her demand. He could hardly believe +it was Belle, this frenzied girl, who, heretofore, +had seemed the gentlest of souls. He looked at her +in a dazed way, so overwhelmed by the discovery that +had just been made, that he failed to comprehend the +reason for her white face and agonized eyes, till +she threw up her arms crying:</p> + +<p>_"Emmett_ a thief! God in heaven! It’ll +kill me!”</p> + +<p>It was the sight of Georgina’s shocked face +with Richard’s at the door, that made things +clear to the old man. He waved them away, with hands +which shook as if he had the palsy.</p> + +<p>“Go on out, children, for a little while,” +he said gently, and closed the door in their faces.</p> + +<p>Slowly they retreated to the swing, Georgina clasping +the skinned elbow which had begun to smart. She climbed +into one seat of the swing and Richard and Captain +Kidd took the other. As they swung back and forth she +demanded in a whisper:</p> + +<p>“Why is it that grown people always shut children +out of their secrets? Seems as if we have a right +to know what’s the matter when _we_ +found the paper.”</p> + +<p>Richard made no answer, for just then the sound of +Belle’s crying came out to them. The windows +of the cottage were all open and the grass plot between +the windows and the swing being a narrow one the closed +door was of little avail. It was very still there +in the shady dooryard, so still that they could hear +old Yellownose purr, asleep on the cushion in the +wooden arm-chair beside the swing. The broken sentences +between the sobs were plainly audible. It seemed so +terrible to hear a grown person cry, that Georgina +felt as she did that morning long ago, when old Jeremy’s +teeth flew into the fire. Her confidence was shaken +in the world. She felt there could be no abiding happiness +in anything.</p> + +<p>“She’s begging him not to tell,” +whispered Richard.</p> + +<p>“But I owe it to Danny,” they heard Uncle +Darcy say. And then, “Why should I spare Emmett’s +father? Emmett never spared me, he never spared Danny.”</p> + +<p>An indistinct murmur as if Belle’s answer was +muffled in her handkerchief, then Uncle Darcy’s +voice again:</p> + +<p>“It isn’t fair that the town should go +on counting him a hero and brand my boy as a coward, +when it’s Emmett who was the coward as well as +the thief.”</p> + +<p>Again Belle’s voice in a quick cry of pain, +as sharp as if she had been struck. Then the sound +of another door shutting, and when the voices began +again it was evident they had withdrawn into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>“They don’t want Aunt Elspeth to hear,” +said Georgina.</p> + +<p>“What’s it all about?” asked Richard, +much mystified.</p> + +<p>Georgina told him all that she knew herself, gathered +from the scraps she had heard the day of Cousin Mehitable’s +visit, and from various sources since; told him in +a half whisper stopping now and then when some fragment +of a sentence floated out to them from the kitchen; +for occasional words still continued to reach them +through the windows in the rear, when the voices rose +at intervals to a higher pitch.</p> + +<p>What passed behind those closed doors the children +never knew. They felt rather than understood what +was happening. Belle’s pleading was beginning +to be effectual, and the old man was rising to the +same heights of self-sacrifice which Dan had reached, +when he slipped away from home with the taint of his +friend’s disgrace upon him in order to save that +friend.</p> + +<p>That some soul tragedy had been enacted m that little +room the children felt vaguely when Belle came out +after a while. Her eyes were red and swollen and her +face drawn and pinched looking. She did not glance +in their direction, but stood with her face averted +and hand on the gate-latch while Uncle Darcy stopped +beside the swing.</p> + +<p>“Children,” he said solemnly, “I +want you to promise me never to speak to anyone about +finding that note in the old rifle till I give you +permission. Will you do this for me, just because I +ask it, even if I can’t tell you why?”</p> + +<p>“Mustn’t I even tell Barby?” asked +Georgina, anxiously.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Belle, then +answered:</p> + +<p>“No, not even your mother, till I tell you that +you can. Now you see what a very important secret +it is. Can _you_ keep it, son? Will you +promise me too?”</p> + +<p>He turned to Richard with the question. With a finger +under the boy’s chin he tipped up his face and +looked into it searchingly. The serious, brown eyes +looked back into his, honest and unflinching.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I promise,” he answered. “Honor +bright I’ll not tell.”</p> + +<p>The old man turned to the waiting figure at the gate.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Belle. You needn’t +worry about it any more. You can trust us.”</p> + +<p>She made no answer, but looking as if she had aged +years in the last half hour, she passed through the +gate and into the sandy court, moving slowly across +it towards the street beyond.</p> + +<p>With a long-drawn sigh the old man sank down on the +door-step and buried his face in his hands. They were +still shaking as if he had the palsy. For some time +the children sat in embarrassed silence, thinking every +moment that he would look up and say something. They +wanted to go, but waited for him to make some movement. +He seemed to have forgotten they were there. Finally +a clock inside the cottage began striking five. It +broke the spell which bound them.</p> + +<p>“Let’s go,” whispered Richard.</p> + +<p>“All right,” was the answer, also whispered. +“Wait till I take the shovel and can lid back +to the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take ’em,” he offered. +“I want to get a drink, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>Stealthily, as if playing Indian, they stepped out +of the swing and tiptoed through the grass around +the corner of the house. Even the dog went noiselessly, +instead of frisking and barking as he usually did when +starting anywhere. Their return was equally stealthy. +As they slipped through the gate Georgina looked back +at the old man. He was still sitting on the step, +his face in his hands, as if he were bowed down by +some weight too heavy for his shoulders to bear.</p> + +<p>The weary hopelessness of his attitude made her want +to run back and throw her arms around his neck, but +she did not dare. Trouble as great as that seemed +to raise a wall around itself. It could not be comforted +by a caress. The only thing to do was to slip past +and not look.</p> + +<p>Richard shared the same awe, for he went away leaving +the rifle lying in the grass. Instinctively he felt +that it ought not to be played with now. It was the +rifle which had changed everything.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_13"></a>Chapter XIII</h1> +<h2>Lost and Found at the Liniment Wagon</h2> + +<p>With Mrs. Triplett back in bed again on account of +the rheumatism which crippled her, and Belle going +about white of face and sick of soul, home held little +cheer for Georgina. But with Mrs. Triplett averse to +company of any kind, and Belle anxious to be alone +with her misery, there was nothing to hinder Georgina +from seeking cheer elsewhere and she sought it early +and late.</p> + +<p>She had spent her birthday dollar in imagination many +times before she took her check to the bank to have +it cashed. With Richard to lend her courage, and Manuel, +Joseph and Rosa trailing after by special invitation, +she walked in and asked for Mr. Gates. That is the +way Barby always did, and as far as Georgina knew +he was the only one to apply to for money.</p> + +<p>The paying teller hesitated a moment about summoning +the president of the bank from his private office +at the behest of so small a child, so small that even +on tiptoe her eyes could barely peer into the window +of his cage. But they were entreating eyes, so big +and brown and sure of their appeal that he decided +to do their bidding.</p> + +<p>Just as he turned to knock at the door behind him +it opened, and Mr. Gates came out with the man with +whom he had been closeted in private conference. It +was Richard’s Cousin James. The children did +not see him, however, for he stopped at one of the +high desks inside to look at some papers which one +of the clerks spread out before him.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s my little friend, Georgina,” +said Mr. Gates, smiling in response to the beaming +smile she gave him. “Well, what can I do for +you, my dear?”</p> + +<p>“Cash my check, please,” she said, pushing +the slip of paper towards him with as grand an air +as if it had been for a million dollars instead of +one, “and all in nickels, please.”</p> + +<p>He glanced at the name she had written painstakingly +across the back.</p> + +<p>“Well, Miss Huntingdon,” he exclaimed +gravely, although there was a twinkle in his eyes, +“if all lady customers were as businesslike in +endorsing their checks and in knowing what they want, +we bankers would be spared a lot of trouble.”</p> + +<p>It was the first time that Georgina had ever been +called Miss Huntingdon, and knowing he said it to +tease her, it embarrassed her to the point of making +her stammer, when he asked her most unexpectedly while +picking out twenty shining new nickels to stuff into +the little red purse:</p> + +<p>“All of these going to buy tracts for the missionaries +to take to the little heathen?”</p> + +<p>“No, they’re all going to--to----”</p> + +<p>She didn’t like to say for soda water and chewing +gum and the movies, and hesitated till a substitute +word occurred to her.</p> + +<p>“They’re all going to go for buying good +times. It’s for a sort of a club we made up +this morning, Richard and me.”</p> + +<p>“May I ask the name of the club?”</p> + +<p>Georgina glanced around. No other customer happened +to be in the bank at the moment and Richard had wandered +out to the street to wait for her. So tiptoeing a +little higher she said in a low tone as if imparting +a secret:</p> + +<p>“It’s the _Rainbow_ Club. We +pretend that everytime we make anybody happy we’ve +made a little rainbow in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Well, bless your heart,” was the appreciative +answer. “You’ve already made one in here. +You do that every time you come around.”</p> + +<p>Then he looked thoughtfully at her over his spectacles.</p> + +<p>“Would you take an old fellow like me into your +club?”</p> + +<p>Georgina considered a moment, first stealing a glance +at him to see if he were in earnest or still trying +to tease. He seemed quite serious so she answered:</p> + +<p>“If you really _want_ to belong. Anybody +with a bank full of money ought to be able to make +happy times for the whole town.”</p> + +<p>“Any dues to pay? What are the rules and what +are the duties of a member?”</p> + +<p>Again Georgina was embarrassed. He seemed to expect +so much more than she had to offer. She swung the +red purse around nervously as she answered:</p> + +<p>“I guess you won’t think it’s much +of a club. There’s nothing to it but just its +name, and all we do is just to go around making what +it says.”</p> + +<p>“Count me as Member number Three,” said +Mr. Gates gravely. “I’m proud to join +you. Shake hands on it. I’ll try to be a credit +to the organization, and I hope you’ll drop +around once in a while and let me know how it’s +getting along.”</p> + +<p>The beaming smile with which Georgina shook hands +came back to him all morning at intervals.</p> + +<p>Cousin James Milford, who had been an interested listener, +followed her out of the bank presently and as he drove +his machine slowly past the drug-store he saw the +five children draining their glasses at the soda-water +fountain. He stopped, thinking to invite Richard and +Georgina to go to Truro with him. It never would have +occurred to him to give the three little Portuguese +children a ride also had he not overheard that conversation +in the bank.</p> + +<p>“Well, why not?” he asked himself, smiling +inwardly. “It might as well be rainbows for +the crowd while I’m about it.”</p> + +<p>So for the first time in their lives Manuel and Joseph +and Rosa rode in one of the “honk wagons” +which heretofore they had known only as something +to be dodged when one walked abroad. Judging by the +blissful grins which took permanent lodging on their +dirty faces, Cousin James was eligible to the highest +position the new club could bestow, if ever he should +apply for membership.</p> + +<p>If Mrs. Triplett had been downstairs that evening, +none of the birthday nickels would have found their +way through the ticket window of the moving picture +show. She supposed that Georgina was reading as usual +beside the evening lamp, or was out on the front porch +talking to Belle. But Belle, not caring to talk to +anyone, had given instant consent when Georgina, who +wanted to go to the show, having seen wonderful posters +advertising it, suggested that Mrs. Fayal would take +her in charge. She did not add that she had already +seen Mrs. Fayal and promised to provide tickets for +her and the children in case she could get permission +from home. Belle did not seem interested in hearing +such things, so Georgina hurried off lest something +might happen to interfere before she was beyond the +reach of summoning voices.</p> + +<p>On the return from Truro she had asked to be put out +at the Fayal cottage, having it in mind to make some +such arrangement. Manuel had seen one show, but Joseph +and Rosa had never so much as had their heads inside +of one. She found Mrs. Fayal glooming over a wash-tub, +not because she objected to washing for the summer +people. She was used to that, having done it six days +out of seven every summer since she had married Joe +Fayal. What she was glooming over was that Joe was +home from a week’s fishing trip with his share +of the money for the biggest catch of the season, +and not a dime of it had she seen. It had all gone +into the pocket of an itinerant vendor, and Joe was +lying in a sodden stupor out under the grape arbor +at the side of the cottage.</p> + +<p>Georgina started to back away when she found the state +of affairs. She did not suppose Mrs. Fayal would have +a mind for merry-making under the circumstances. But, +indeed, Mrs. Fayal did.</p> + +<p>“All the more reason that I should go off and +forget my troubles and have a good time for a while,” +she said decidedly. Georgina recognized the spirit +if not the words of her own “line to live by.” +Mrs. Fayal could bear up and steer onward with a joyful +heart any time she had the price of admission to a +movie in her pocket. So feeling that as a member of +the new club she could not have a better opportunity +to make good its name, Georgina promised the tickets +for the family even if she could not go herself. She +would send them by Richard if not allowed to take them +in person.</p> + +<p>It was still light when Georgina fared forth at the +end of the long summer day. Richard joined her at +the foot of the Green Stairs with the price of his +own ticket in his pocket, and Captain Kidd tagging +at his heels.</p> + +<p>“They won’t let the dog into the show,” +Georgina reminded him.</p> + +<p>“That’s so, and he might get into a fight +or run over if I left him outside,” Richard +answered. “B’leeve I’ll shut him +up in the garage.”</p> + +<p>This he did, fastening the door securely, and returning +in time to see the rest of the party turning the corner, +and coming towards the Green Stairs.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fayal, after her long day over the wash-tub, +was resplendent in lavender shirt-waist, blue serge +skirt and white tennis shoes, with long gold ear-rings +dangling half-way to her shoulders. Manuel and Joseph +were barefooted as usual, and in over-alls as usual, +but their lack of gala attire was made up for by Rosa’s. +No wax doll was ever more daintily and lacily dressed. +Georgina looked at her in surprise, wishing Tippy could +see her now. Rosa in her white dress and slippers and +with her face clean, was a little beauty.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fayal made a delightful chaperon. She was just +as ready as anyone in her train to stop in front of +shop windows, to straggle slowly down the middle of +the street, or to thrust her hand into Richard’s +bag of peanuts whenever he passed it around. Cracking +shells and munching the nuts, they strolled along +with a sense of freedom which thrilled Georgina to +the core. She had never felt it before. She had just +bought five tickets and Richard his one, and they +were about to pass in although Mrs. Fayal said it +was early yet, when a deep voice roaring through the +crowd attracted their attention. It was as sonorous +as a megaphone.</p> + +<p>“Walk up, ladies and gentlemen. See the wild-cat, +_Texas Tim,_ brought from the banks of the +Brazos.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s go,” said Richard and Georgina +in the same breath. Mrs. Fayal, out for a good time +and to see all that was to be seen, bobbed her long +earrings in gracious assent, and headed the procession, +in order that her ample form might make an entering +wedge for the others, as she elbowed her way through +the crowd gathered at the street end of Railroad wharf.</p> + +<p>It clustered thickest around a wagon in which stood +a broad-shouldered man, mounted on a chair. He wore +a cow-boy hat. A flaming torch set up beside the wagon +lighted a cage in one end of it, in which crouched +a wild-cat bewildered by the light and the bedlam +of noisy, pushing human beings. The children could +not see the animal at first, but pushed nearer the +wagon to hear what the man was saying. He held up a +bottle and shook it over the heads of the people.</p> + +<p>“Here’s your marvelous rheumatism remedy,” +he cried, “made from the fat of wild-cats. Warranted +to cure every kind of ache, sprain and misery known +to man. Only fifty cents, ladies and gentlemen, sure +cure or your money back. Anybody here with an ache +or a pain?”</p> + +<p>The children pushed closer. Richard, feeling the effect +of the gun-powder he had eaten, turned to Georgina.</p> + +<p>“I dare you to climb up and touch the end of +the wild-cat’s tail.”</p> + +<p>Georgina stood on tiptoe, then dodged under someone’s +elbow for a nearer view. The end of the tail protruded +from between the bars of the cage, in easy reach if +one were on the wagon, but those furtive eyes keeping +watch above it were savage in their gleaming. Then +she, too, remembered the gun-powder.</p> + +<p>“I’ll do it if you will.”</p> + +<p>Before Richard could put the gun-powder to the test +the man reached down for a guitar leaning against +his chair, and with a twanging of chords which made +the shifting people on the outskirts stand still to +see what would happen next, he began to sing a song +that had been popular in his youth. Or, rather, it +was a parody of the song. Georgina recognized it as +one that she had heard Uncle Darcy sing, and even Tippy +hummed it sometimes when she was sewing. It was, “When +you and I were young, Maggie.”</p> + +<blockquote>They say we are aged and gray, Maggie,<br /> +As spray by the white breakers flung,<br /> +But the liniment keeps us as spry, Maggie,<br /> +As when you and I were young.”</blockquote> + +<p>Several people laughed and passed on when the song +was done, but the greater part of the crowd stayed, +hoping to hear another, for the voice was a powerful +one and fairly sweet.</p> + +<p>“Anybody here with any aches or pains?” +he called again. “If so, step this way, please, +and let me make a simple demonstration of how quickly +this magic oil will cure you.”</p> + +<p>There was a commotion near the wagon, and a man pushed +his way through and climbed up on the wheel. He offered +a stiff wrist for treatment. The vendor tipped up +the bottle and poured out some pungent volatile oil +from the bottle, the odor of which was far-reaching. +He rubbed the wrist briskly for a moment, then gave +it a slap saying, “Now see what you can do with +it, my friend.”</p> + +<p>The patient scowled at it, twisting his arm in every +possible direction as if skeptical of any help from +such a source, but gradually letting a look of pleased +surprise spread across his face. The crowd watched +in amusement, and nearly everybody laughed when the +patient finally announced in a loud voice that he +was cured, that it was nothing short of a miracle +and that he’d buy half a dozen bottles of that +witch stuff to take home to his friends.</p> + +<p>The vendor began his speech-making again, calling +attention to the cure they had just witnessed, and +urging others to follow. As the subject of the cure +stepped down from the wheel Richard sprang up in his +place. Georgina, pressing closer, saw him lean over +the side of the wagon and boldly take hold of the +end of the beast’s tail.</p> + +<p>“There. I did it,” he announced. “Now +it’s your turn.”</p> + +<p>Georgina gave one glance at the wild-cat’s eyes +and drew back. They seemed to glare directly at her. +She wondered how strong the bars were, and if they +would hold the beast in case it rose up in a rage and +sprang at her. But Richard was waiting, and she clambered +up on the hub of the wheel. Luckily its owner was +turned towards the other side at that moment or she +might have been ordered down.</p> + +<p>“There! I did it, too,” she announced +an instant later. “Now you can’t crow +over me.”</p> + +<p>She was about to step down when she saw in the other +end of the wagon, something she had not been able +to see from her place on the ground under the elbows +of the crowd. In a low rocking chair sat an elderly +woman, oddly out of place in this traveling medicine +show as far as appearance was concerned. She had a +calm, motherly face, gray hair combed smoothly down +over her ears, a plain old-fashioned gray dress and +an air of being perfectly at home. It was the serene, +unconscious manner one would have in sitting on the +door-step at home. She did not seem to belong in the +midst of this seething curious mass, or to realize +that she was a part of the show. She smiled now at +Georgina in such a friendly way that Georgina smiled +back and continued to stand on the wheel. She hoped +that this nice old lady would say something about +the virtues of the medicine, for it cured two more +people, even while she looked, and if she could be +sure it did all that was claimed for it she would +spend all the rest of her birthday money in buying +a bottle for Tippy.</p> + +<p>The placid old lady said nothing, but her reassuring +presence finally made Georgina decide to buy the bottle, +and she emptied the red purse of everything except +the tickets. Then the man embarrassed her until her +cheeks flamed.</p> + +<p>“That’s right, little girl. Carry it to +the dear sufferer at home who will bless you for your +kindness. Anybody else here who will imitate this +child’s generous act? If you haven’t any +pain yourself, show your gratitude by thinking of +someone less fortunate than you.”</p> + +<p>Georgina felt that her blushes were burning her up +at thus being made the centre of public notice. She +almost fell off the wheel in her haste to get down, +and in doing so stumbled over a dog which suddenly +emerged from under the wagon at that instant.</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s Captain Kidd!” she exclaimed +in astonishment. “How ever did he get here?”</p> + +<p>“Must have scratched under the door and trailed +us,” answered Richard. “Go on home, sir!” +he commanded, sternly, stamping his foot. “You +know they won’t let you into the show with us, +and you’ll get into trouble if you stay downtown +alone. Go on home I say.”</p> + +<p>With drooping tail and a look so reproachful that +it was fairly human, Captain Kidd slunk away, starting +mournfully homeward. He sneaked back in a few minutes, +however, and trailed his party as far as the door of +the theatre. Somebody kicked at him and he fled down +the street again, retracing the trail that had led +him to the wagon.</p> + +<p>A long time after when the performance was nearly +over he went swinging up the beach with something +in his mouth which he had picked up from near the +end of the wagon. It was a tobacco pouch of soft gray +leather that had never been used for tobacco. There +was something hard and round inside which felt like +a bone. At the top of the Green Stairs he lay down +and mouthed it a while, tugging at it with his sharp +teeth; but after he had mumbled and gnawed it for +some time without bringing the bone any nearer the +surface, he grew tired of his newfound plaything. Dropping +it in the grass, he betook himself to the door-mat +on the front porch, to await his master’s return.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_14"></a>Chapter XIV</h1> +<h2>Buried Treasure</h2> + +<p>When Georgina tiptoed up the walk to the front porch +where Belle sat waiting for her in the moonlight, +Tippy called down that she wasn’t asleep, and +they needn’t stay out there on her account, whispering. +It did not seem an auspicious time to present the +bottle of liniment, but to Georgina’s surprise +Tippy seemed glad to try the new remedy. The long-continued +pain which refused to yield to treatment made her willing +to try anything which promised relief.</p> + +<p>It was vile-smelling stuff, so pungent that whenever +the cork was taken out of the bottle the whole house +knew it, but it burned with soothing fire and Tippy +rose up and called it blessed before the next day was +over. Before that happened, however, Georgina took +advantage of Belle’s easy rule to leave home +as soon as her little morning tasks were done. Strolling +down the board-walk with many stops she came at last +to the foot of the Green Stairs. Richard sat on the +top step, tugging at a knotted string.</p> + +<p>“Come on up,” he called. “See what +I’ve taken away from Captain Kidd. He was just +starting to bury it. Looks like a tobacco pouch, but +I haven’t got it untied yet. He made the string +all wet, gnawing on it.”</p> + +<p>Georgina climbed to the top of the steps and sat down +beside him, watching in deep and silent interest. +When the string finally gave way she offered her lap +to receive the contents of the pouch. Two five-dollar +gold pieces rolled out first, then a handful of small +change, a black ring evidently whittled out of a rubber +button and lastly a watch-fob ornament. It was a little +compass, set in something which looked like a nut.</p> + +<p>“I believe that’s a buckeye,” said +Richard. He examined it carefully on all sides, then +called excitedly:</p> + +<p>“Aw, look here! See those letters scratched +on the side--’D. D.’? That stands for +my name, Dare-devil Dick. I’m going to keep it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the cunningest thing I ever saw,” +declared Georgina in a tone both admiring and envious, +which plainly showed that she wished the initials +were such as could be claimed by a Gory George. Then +she picked up the pouch and thrust in her hand. Something +rustled. It was a letter. Evidently it had been forwarded +many times, for the envelope was entirely criss-crossed +with names that had been written and blotted out that +new ones might be added. All they could make out was +“Mrs. Henry”--“Texas” and +“Mass.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to have that stamp for my album,” +said Richard. “It’s foreign. Seems to +me I’ve got one that looks something like it, +but I’m not sure. Maybe the letter will tell +who the pouch belongs to.”</p> + +<p>“But we can’t read other people’s +letters,” objected Georgina.</p> + +<p>“Well, who wants to? It won’t be reading +it just to look at the head and tail, will it?”</p> + +<p>“No,” admitted Georgina, hesitatingly. +“Though it does seem like peeking.”</p> + +<p>“Well, if you lost something wouldn’t +you rather whoever found it should peek and find out +it was yours, than to have it stay lost forever?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I s’pose so.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s look, then.”</p> + +<p>Two heads bent over the sheet spread out on Richard’s +knee. They read slowly in unison, “Dear friend,” +then turned over the paper and sought the last line. +“Your grateful friend Dave.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know any more now than we did +before,” said Georgina, virtuously folding up +the letter and slipping it back into the envelope.</p> + +<p>“Let’s take it to Uncle Darcy. Then he’ll +let us go along and ring the bell when he calls, ‘Found.’”</p> + +<p>Richard had two objections to this. “Who’d +pay him for doing it? Besides, it’s gold money, +and anybody who loses that much would advertise for +it in the papers. Let’s keep it till this week’s +papers come out, and then we’ll have the fun +of taking it to the person who lost it.”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t be safe for us to keep it,” +was Georgina’s next objection. “It’s +gold money and burglars might find out we had it.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll tell you”--Richard’s +face shone as he made the suggestion-- “Let’s +_bury_ it. That will keep it safe till we +can find the owner, and when we dig it up we can play +it’s pirate gold and it’ll be like finding +real treasure.”</p> + +<p>“Lets!” agreed Georgina. “We can +keep out something, a nickel or a dime, and when we +go to dig up the pouch we can throw it over toward +the place where we buried the bag and say, ‘Brother, +go find your brother,’ the way Tom Sawyer did. +Then we’ll be certain to hit the spot.”</p> + +<p>Richard picked up the compass, and rubbed the polished +sides of the nut in which it was set.</p> + +<p>“I’ll keep this out instead of a nickel. +I wonder what the fellow’s name was that this +D. D. stands for?”</p> + +<p>Half an hour later two bloody-minded sea-robbers slipped +through the back gate of the Milford place and took +their stealthy way out into the dunes. No fierce mustachios +or hoop ear-rings marked them on this occasion as +the Dread Destroyer or the Menace of the Main. The +time did not seem favorable for donning their real +costumes. So one went disguised as a dainty maiden +in a short pink frock and long brown curls, and the +other as a sturdy boy in a grass-stained linen suit +with a hole in the knee of his stocking. But their +speech would have betrayed their evil business had +anyone been in earshot of it. One would have thought +it was</p> + +<blockquote>“Wild Roger come again.<br /> +He spoke of forays and of frays upon the Spanish Main.”</blockquote> + +<p>Having real gold to bury made the whole affair seem +a real adventure. They were recounting to each other +as they dug, the bloody fight it had taken to secure +this lot of treasure.</p> + +<p>Down in a hollow where the surrounding sandridges +sheltered them from view, they crouched over a small +basket they had brought with them and performed certain +ceremonies. First the pouch was wrapped in many sheets +of tin foil, which Richard had been long in collecting +from various tobacco-loving friends. When that was +done it flashed in the sun like a nugget of wrinkled +silver. This was stuffed into a baking-powder can from +which the label had been carefully scraped, and on +whose lid had been scratched with a nail, the names +Georgina Huntingdon and Richard Moreland, with the +date.</p> + +<p>“We’d better put our everyday names on +it instead of our pirate names,” Gory George +suggested. “For if anything should happen that +some other pirate dug it up first they wouldn’t +know who the Dread Destroyer and the Menace of the +Main were.”</p> + +<p>Lastly, from the basket was taken the end of a wax +candle, several matches and a stick of red sealing-wax, +borrowed from Cousin James’ desk. Holding the +end of the sealing-wax over the lighted candle until +it was soft and dripping, Richard daubed it around +the edge of the can lid, as he had seen the man in +the express office seal packages. He had always longed +to try it himself. There was something peculiarly pleasing +in the smell of melted sealing-wax. Georgina found +it equally alluring. She took the stick away from +him when it was about half used, and finished it.</p> + +<p>“There won’t be any to put back in Cousin +James’ desk if you keep on using it,” +he warned her.</p> + +<p>“I’m not using any more than you did,” +she answered, and calmly proceeded to smear on the +remainder. “If you had let me seal with the first +end of the stick, you’d have had all the last +end to save.”</p> + +<p>All this time Captain Kidd sat close beside them, +an interested spectator, but as they began digging +the hole he rushed towards it and pawed violently +at each shovelful of sand thrown out.</p> + +<p>“Aw, let him help!” Richard exclaimed +when Georgina ordered him to stop. “He ought +to have a part in it because he found the pouch and +was starting to bury it his own self when I took it +away from him and spoiled his fun.”</p> + +<p>Georgina saw the justice of the claim and allowed +Captain Kidd to join in as he pleased, but no sooner +did they stop digging to give him a chance than he +stopped also.</p> + +<p>“Rats!” called Richard in a shrill whisper.</p> + +<p>At that familiar word the dog began digging so frantically +that the sand flew in every direction. Each time he +paused for breath Richard called “Rats” +again. It doubled the interest for both children to +have the dog take such frantic and earnest part in +their game.</p> + +<p>When the hole was pronounced deep enough the can was +dropped in, the sand shoveled over it and tramped +down, and a marker made. A long, forked stick, broken +from a bayberry bush, was run into the ground so that +only the fork of it was visible. Then at twenty paces +from the stick, Richard stepping them off in four +directions, consulting the little compass in so doing, +Georgina placed the markers, four sections of a broken +crock rescued from the ash-barrel and brought down +in the basket for that especial purpose.</p> + +<p>“We’ll let it stay buried for a week,” +said Richard when all was done. “Unless somebody +claims it sooner. If they don’t come in a week, +then we’ll know they’re never coming, +and the gold will be ours.”</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_15"></a>Chapter XV</h1> +<h2>A Narrow Escape</h2> + +<p>Mr. Milford was stretched out in a hammock on the +front porch of the bungalow when the children came +back from the dunes with their empty basket. They +could not see him as they climbed up the terrace, the +porch being high above them and draped with vines; +and he deep in a new book was only vaguely conscious +of approaching voices.</p> + +<p>They were discussing the “Rescues of Rosalind,” +the play they had seen the night before on the films. +Their shrill, eager tones would have attracted the +attention of anyone less absorbed than Mr. Milford.</p> + +<p>“I’ll bet you couldn’t,” Georgina +was saying. “If you were gagged and bound the +way Rosalind was, you _couldn’t_ get +loose, no matter how you squirmed and twisted.”</p> + +<p>“Come back in the garage and try me,” +Richard retorted. “I’ll prove it to you +that I can.”</p> + +<p>“_Always_ an automobile dashes up +and there’s a chase. It’s been that way +in every movie I ever saw,” announced Georgina +with the air of one who has attended nightly through +many seasons.</p> + +<p>“I can do that part all right,” declared +Richard. “I can run an automobile.”</p> + +<p>There was no disputing that fact, no matter how contradictory +Georgina’s frame of mind. Only the day before +she had seen him take the wheel and run the car for +three miles under the direction of Cousin James, when +they came to a level stretch of road.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but you know your Cousin James said you +were never to do it unless he was along himself. You +wasn’t to dare to touch it when you were out +with only the chauffeur.”</p> + +<p>“He wouldn’t care if we got in and didn’t +start anything but the engine,” said Richard. +“Climb in and play that I’m running away +with you. With the motor chugging away and shaking +the machine it’ll seem as if we’re really +going.”</p> + +<p>By this time they were inside the garage, with the +doors closed behind them.</p> + +<p>“Now you get in and keep looking back the way +Rosalind did to see how near they are to catching +us.”</p> + +<p>Instantly Georgina threw herself into the spirit of +the game. Climbing into the back seat she assumed +the pose of the kidnapped bride whose adventures had +thrilled them the night before.</p> + +<p>“Play my white veil is floating out in the wind,” +she commanded, “and I’m looking back and +waving to my husband to come faster and take me away +from the dreadful villain who is going to kill me for +my jewels. I wish this car was out of doors instead +of in this dark garage. When I look back I look bang +against the closed door every time, aid I can’t +make it seem as if I was seeing far down the road.”</p> + +<p>“Play it’s night,” suggested Richard. +He had put on a pair of goggles and was making a great +pretence of getting ready to start. Georgina, leaning +out as Rosalind had done, waved her lily hand in frantic +beckonings for her rescuers to follow faster. The +motor chugged harder and harder. The car shook violently.</p> + +<p>To the vivid imaginations of the passengers, the chase +was as exciting as if the automobile were really plunging +down the road instead of throbbing steadily in one +spot in the dim garage. The gas rolling up from somewhere +in the back made it wonderfully realistic. But out +on the open road the smell of burning gasoline would +not have been so overpowering. Inside the little box-like +garage it began to close in on them and settle down +like a dense fog.</p> + +<p>Georgina coughed and Richard looked back apprehensively, +feeling that something was wrong, and if that queer +smoke didn’t stop pouring out in such a thick +cloud he’d have to shut off the engine or do +something. Another moment passed and he leaned forward, +fumbling for the key, but he couldn’t find it. +He had grown queerly confused and light-headed. He +couldn’t make his fingers move where he wanted +them to go.</p> + +<p>He looked back at Georgina. She wasn’t waving +her hands any more. She was lying limply back on the +seat as if too tired to play any longer. And a thousand +miles away--at least it sounded that far--above the +terrific noise the motor was making, he heard Captain +Kidd barking. They were short, excited barks, so thin +and queer, almost as thin and queer as if he were +barking with the voice of a mosquito instead of his +own.</p> + +<p>And then--Richard heard nothing more, not even the +noise of the motor. His hand dropped from the wheel, +and he began slipping down, down from the seat to +the floor of the car, white and limp, overcome like +Georgina, by the fumes of the poisonous gas rolling +up from the carburetor.</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford, up in the hammock, had been vaguely conscious +for several minutes of unusual sounds somewhere in +the neighborhood, but it was not until he reached +the end of the chapter that he took any intelligent +notice. Then he looked up thinking somebody’s +machine was making a terrible fuss somewhere near. +But it wasn’t that sound which made him sit +up in the hammock. It was Captain Kidd’s frantic +barking and yelping and whining as if something terrible +was happening to him.</p> + +<p>Standing up to stretch himself, then walking to the +corner of the porch, Mr. Milford looked out. He could +see the little terrier alternately scratching on the +garage door and making frantic efforts to dig under +it. Evidently he felt left out and was trying desperately +to join his little playmates, or else he felt that +something was wrong inside.</p> + +<p>Then it came to Mr. Milford in a flash that something +was wrong inside. Nobody ever touched that machine +but himself and the chauffeur, and the chauffeur, +who was having a day off, was half-way to Yarmouth +by this time. He didn’t wait to go down by the +steps. With one leap he was over the railing, crashing +through the vines, and running down the terrace to +the garage.</p> + +<p>As he rolled back one of the sliding doors a suffocating +burst of gas rushed into his face. He pushed both +doors open wide, and with a hand over his mouth and +nose hurried through the heavily-charged atmosphere +to shut off the motor. The fresh air rushing in, began +clearing away the fumes, and he seized Georgina and +carried her out, thinking she would be revived by +the time he was back with Richard. But neither child +stirred from the grass where he stretched them out.</p> + +<p>As he called for the cook and the housekeeper, there +flashed into his mind an account he had read recently +in a New York paper, of a man and his wife who had +been asphyxiated in just such a way as this. Now thoroughly +alarmed, he sent the cook running down the Green Stairs +to summon Richard’s father from the studio, +and the housekeeper to telephone in various directions. +Three doctors were there in a miraculously short time, +but despite all they could do at the end of half an +hour both little figures still lay white and motionless.</p> + +<p>Then the pulmotor that had been frantically telephoned +for arrived from the life-saving station, and just +as the man dashed up with that, Mrs. Triplett staggered +up the terrace, her knees shaking so that she could +scarcely manage to climb the last few steps.</p> + +<p>Afterwards, the happenings of the day were very hazy +in Georgina’s mind. She had an indistinct recollection +of being lifted in somebody’s arms and moved +about, and of feeling very sick and weak. Somebody +said soothingly to somebody who was crying:</p> + +<p>“Oh, the worst is over now. They’re both +beginning to come around.”</p> + +<p>Then she was in her own bed and the wild-cat from +the banks of the Brazos was bending over her. At least, +she thought it was the wild-cat, because she smelled +the liniment as strongly as she did when she climbed +up in the wagon beside it. But when she opened her +eyes it was Tippy who was bending over her, smoothing +her curls in a comforting, purry way, but the smell +of liniment still hung in the air.</p> + +<p>Then Georgina remembered something that must have +happened before she was carried home from the bungalow--Captain +Kidd squirming out of Tippy’s arms, and Tippy +with the tears streaming down her face trying to hold +him and hug him as if he had been a person, and the +Milford’s cook saying: “If it hadn’t +been for the little beast’s barkin’ they’d +have been dead in a few minutes more. Then there’d +have been a double funeral, poor lambs.”</p> + +<p>Georgina smiled drowsily now and slipped off to sleep +again, but later when she awakened the charm of the +cook’s phrase aroused her thoroughly, and she +lay wondering what “a double funeral” was +like. Would it have been at her house or Richard’s? +Would two little white coffins have stood side by +side, or would each have been in its own place, with +the two solemn processions meeting and joining at +the foot of the Green Stairs. Maybe they would have +put on her tombstone, “None knew her but to love +her.” No, that couldn’t be said about her. +She’d been wilfully disobedient too often for +that, like the time she played with the Portuguese +children on purpose to spite Tippy. She was sorry for +that disobedience now, for she had discovered that +Tippy was fonder of her than she had supposed. She +had proved it by hugging Captain Kidd so gratefully +for saving their lives, when she simply _loathed_ +dogs.</p> + +<p>Somehow Georgina felt that she was better acquainted +with Mrs. Triplett than she had ever been before, +and fonder of her. Lying there in the dark she made +several good resolutions. She was going to be a better +girl in the future. She was going to do kind, lovely +things for everybody, so that if an early tomb should +claim her, every heart in town would be saddened by +her going. It would be lovely to leave a widespread +heartache behind her. She wished she could live such +a life that there wouldn’t be a dry eye in the +town when it was whispered from house to house that +little Georgina Huntingdon was with the angels.</p> + +<p>She pictured Belle’s grief, and Uncle Darcy’s +and Richard’s. She had already seen Tippy’s. +But it was a very different thing when she thought +of Barby. There was no pleasure in imagining Barby’s +grief. There was something too real and sharp in the +pain which darted into her own heart at the thought +of it. She wanted to put her arms around her mother +and ward off sorrow and trouble from her and keep +all tears away from those dear eyes. She wanted to +grow up and take care of her darling Barby and protect +her from the Tishbite.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it occurred to Georgina that in this escape +she had been kept from the power of that mysterious +evil which had threatened her ever since she called +it forth by doing such a wicked thing as to use the +“Sacred Book” to work a charm.</p> + +<p>She had been put to bed in the daytime, hence her +evening petitions were still unsaid. Now she pulled +the covers over her head and included them all in +one fervent appeal:</p> + +<p>“And keep on delivering us from the Tishbite, +forever and ever, Amen!”</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_16"></a>Chapter XVI</h1> +<h2>What the Storm Did</h2> + +<p>Next morning nearly everyone in the town was talking +about the storm. Belle said what with the booming +of the waves against the breakwater and the wind rattling +the shutters, she hadn’t slept a wink all night. +It seemed as if every gust would surely take the house +off its foundations.</p> + +<p>Old Jeremy reported that it was one of the worst wind-storms +ever known along the Cape, wild enough to blow all +the sand dunes into the sea. They’d had the +best shaking up and shifting around that they’d +had in years, he declared. Captain Ames’ cranberry +bog was buried so deep in sand you couldn’t +see a blossom or a leaf. And there was sand drifted +all over the garden. It had whirled clear over the +wall, till the bird pool was half full of it.</p> + +<p>Georgina listened languidly, feeling very comfortable +and important with her breakfast brought in to her +on a tray. Tippy thought it was too chilly for her +in the dining-room where there was no fire. Jeremy +had kindled a cheerful blaze on the living-room hearth +and his tales of damage done to the shipping and to +roofs and chimneys about town, seemed to emphasize +her own safety and comfort. The only thing which made +the storm seem a personal affair was the big limb +blown off the willow tree.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett and Jeremy could remember a storm years +ago which shifted the sand until the whole face of +the Cape seemed changed. That was before the Government +planted grass all over it, to bind it together with +firm roots. Later when the ring of an axe told that +the willow limb was being chopped in pieces, Georgina +begged to be allowed to go outdoors.</p> + +<p>“Let me go out and see the tracks of the storm,” +she urged. “I feel all right. I’m all +over the gas now.”</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Triplett preferred to run no risks. All she +said to Georgina was:</p> + +<p>“No, after such a close call as you had yesterday +you stay right here where I can keep an eye on you, +and take it quietly for a day or two,” but when +she went into the next room Georgina heard her say +to Belle:</p> + +<p>“There’s no knowing how that gas may have +affected her heart.”</p> + +<p>Georgina made a face at the first speech, but the +second one made her lie down languidly on the sofa +with her finger on her pulse. She was half persuaded +that there was something wrong with the way it beat, +and was about to ask faintly if she couldn’t +have a little blackberry cordial with her lunch, when +she heard Richard’s alley call outside and Captain +Kidd’s quick bark.</p> + +<p>She started up, forgetting all about the cordial and +her pulse, and was skipping to the front door when +Tippy hurried in from the dining-room and reached +it first. She had a piece of an old coffee sack in +her hand.</p> + +<p>“Here!” she said abruptly to Richard, +who was so surprised at the sudden opening of the +door that he nearly fell in against her.</p> + +<p>“You catch that dog and hold him while I wipe +his feet. I can’t have any dirty quadruped like +that, tracking up my clean floors.”</p> + +<p>Georgina looked at the performance in amazement. Tippy +scrubbing away at Captain Kidd’s muddy paws +till all four of them were clean, and then actually +letting him come into the house and curl up on the +hearth! Tippy, who never touched dogs except with +the end of a broom! She could scarcely believe what +her own eyes told her. She and Richard must have had +a “close call,” indeed, closer than either +of them realized, to make such a wonderful change +in Tippy.</p> + +<p>And the change was towards Richard, too. She had never +seemed to like him much better than his dog. She blamed +him for taking the cream bottles when they played +pirate, and she thought it made little girls boisterous +and rude to play with boys, and she wondered at Barby’s +letting Georgina play with him. Several times she +had done her wondering out loud, so that Georgina +heard her, and wanted to say things back--shocking +things, such as Rosa said to Joseph. But she never +said them. There was always that old silver porringer, +sitting prim and lady-like upon the sideboard.</p> + +<p>Things were different to-day. After the dog’s +paws were wiped dry Tippy asked Richard how he felt +after the accident, and she asked it as if she really +cared and wanted to know. And she brought in a plate +of early summer apples, the first in the market, and +told him to help himself and put some in his pocket. +And there was the checker-board if they wanted to +play checkers or dominoes. Her unusual concern for +their entertainment impressed Georgina more than anything +else she could have done with the seriousness of the +danger they had been in. She felt very solemn and +important, and thanked Tippy with a sweet, patient +air, befitting one who has just been brought up from +the “valley of the shadow.”</p> + +<p>The moment they were alone Richard began breathlessly:</p> + +<p>“Say. On the way here I went by that place where +we buried the pouch, and what do you think? The markers +are out of sight and the whole place itself is buried--just +filled up level. What are we going to do about it?”</p> + +<p>The seriousness of the situation did not impress Georgina +until he added, “S’pose the person who +lost it comes back for it? Maybe we’d be put +in prison.”</p> + +<p>“But nobody knows it’s buried except you +and me.”</p> + +<p>Richard scuffed one shoe against the other and looked +into the fire.</p> + +<p>“But Aunt Letty says there’s no getting +around it, ’Be sure your sin will find you out,’ +always. And I’m awfully unlucky that way. Seems +to me I never did anything in my life that I oughtn’t +to a done, that I didn’t get found out. Aunt +Letty has a book that she reads to me sometimes when +I’m going to bed, that proves it. Every story +in it proves it. One is about a traveler who murdered +a man, and kept it secret for twenty years. Then he +gave it away, talking in his sleep. And one was a feather +in a boy’s coat pocket. It led to its being +found out that he was a chicken thief. There’s +about forty such stories, and everyone of them prove +your sin is sure to find you out some time before +you die, even if you cover it up for years and years.”</p> + +<p>“But we didn’t do any sin,” protested +Georgina. “We just buried a pouch that the dog +found, to keep it safe, and if a big wind came along +and covered it up so we can’t find it, that +isn’t our fault. We didn’t make the wind +blow, did we?”</p> + +<p>“But there was gold money in that pouch,” +insisted Richard, “and it wasn’t ours, +and maybe the letter was important and we ought to +have turned it over to Dad or Uncle Darcy or the police +or somebody.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Letty’s bedtime efforts to keep Richard’s +conscience tender were far more effective than she +had dreamed. He was quoting Aunt Letty now.</p> + +<p>“We wouldn’t want anybody to do _our_ +things that way.” Then a thought of his own +came to him, “You wouldn’t want the police +coming round and taking you off to the lockup, would +you? I saw ’em take Binney Rogers one time, +just because he broke a window that he didn’t +mean to. He was only shying a rock at a sparrow. There +was a cop on each side of him a hold of his arm, and +Binney’s mother and sister were following along +behind crying and begging them not to take him something +awful. But all they could say didn’t do a speck +of good.”</p> + +<p>The picture carried weight. In spite of her light +tone Georgina was impressed, but she said defiantly:</p> + +<p>“Well, nobody saw us do it.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know,” was the gloomy +answer. “Somebody might have been up in the +monument with a spy glass, looking down. There’s +always people up there spying around, or out on the +masts in the harbor, and if some sleuth was put on +the trail of that pouch the first thing that would +happen would be he’d come across the very person +with the glass. It always happens that way, and I +know, because Binney Rogers has read almost all the +detective stories there is, and he said so.”</p> + +<p>A feeling of uneasiness began to clutch at Georgina’s +interior. Richard spoke so knowingly and convincingly +that she felt a real need for blackberry cordial. +But she said with a defiant little uplift of her chin:</p> + +<p>“Well, as long as we didn’t mean to do +anything wrong, I’m not going to get scared +about it. I’m just going to bear up and steer +right on, and keep hoping that everything will turn +out all right so hard that it will.”</p> + +<p>Her “line to live by” buoyed her up so +successfully for the time being, that Richard, too, +felt the cheerful influence of it, and passed to more +cheerful subjects.</p> + +<p>“We’re going to be in all the papers,” +he announced. “A reporter called up from Boston +to ask Cousin James how it happened. There’s +only been a few cases like ours in the whole United +States. Won’t you feel funny to see your name +in the paper? Captain Kidd will have his name in, too. +I heard Cousin James say over the telephone that he +was the hero of the hour; that if he hadn’t +given the alarm we wouldn’t have been discovered +till it was too late.”</p> + +<p>Richard did not stay long. The finished portrait was +to be hung in the Art gallery in the Town Hall that +morning and he wanted to be on hand at the hanging. +Later it would be sent to the New York exhibition.</p> + +<p>“Daddy’s going to let me go with him when +Mr. Locke comes for him on his yacht. He’s going +to take me because I sat still and let him get such +a good picture. It’s the best he’s ever +done. We’ll be gone a week.”</p> + +<p>“When are you going?” demanded Georgina.</p> + +<p>“Oh, in a few days, whenever Mr. Locke comes.”</p> + +<p>“I hope we can find that pouch first,” +she answered. Already she was beginning to feel little +and forlorn and left behind. “It’ll be +awful lonesome with you and Barby both gone.”</p> + +<p>Tippy came in soon after Richard left and sat down +at the secretary.</p> + +<p>“I’ve been thinking I ought to write to +your mother and let her know about yesterday’s +performance before she has a chance to hear it from +outsiders or the papers. It’s a whole week to-day +since she left.”</p> + +<p>“A week,” echoed Georgina. “Is that +all? It seems a month at least. It’s been so +long.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett tossed her a calendar from the desk.</p> + +<p>“Count it up for yourself,” she said. +“She left two days before your birthday and +this is the Wednesday after.”</p> + +<p>While Mrs. Triplett began her letter Georgina studied +the calendar, putting her finger on a date as she +recalled the various happenings of it. Each day had +been long and full. That one afternoon when she and +Richard found the paper in the rifle seemed an age +in itself. It seemed months since they had promised +Belle and Uncle Darcy to keep the secret.</p> + +<p>She glanced up, about to say so, then bit her tongue, +startled at having so nearly betrayed the fact of +their having a secret. Then the thought came to her +that Emmett’s sin had found him out in as strange +a way as that of the man who talked in his sleep or +the chicken thief to whom the feather clung. It was +one more proof added to the forty in Aunt Letty’s +book. Richard’s positiveness made a deeper impression +on her than she liked to acknowledge. She shut her +eyes a moment, squinting them up so tight that her +eyelids wrinkled, and hoped as hard as she could hope +that everything would turn out all right.</p> + +<p>“What on earth is the matter with you, child?” +exclaimed Tippy, looking up from her letter in time +to catch Georgina with her face thus screwed into +wrinkles.</p> + +<p>Georgina opened her eyes with a start.</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” was the embarrassed answer. +“I was just thinking.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch16-end.png"><img src="images/ch16-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_17"></a>Chapter XVII</h1> +<h2>In the Keeping of the Dunes</h2> + +<p>Scarcely had Georgina convinced herself by the calendar +that it had been only one short week since Barby went +away instead of the endlessly long time it seemed, +than a letter was brought in to her.</p> + +<p>“My Dear Little Rainbow-maker,” it began.</p> + +<p>“You are surely a prism your own self, for you +have made a blessed bright spot in the world for me, +ever since you came into it. I read your letter to +papa, telling all about your birthday and the prism +Uncle Darcy gave you. It cheered him up wonderfully. +I was so proud of you when he said it was a fine letter, +and that he’d have to engage you as a special +correspondent on his paper some day.</p> + +<p>“At first the doctors thought his sight was +entirely destroyed, by the flying glass of the broken +windshield, but now they are beginning to hope that +one eye at least may be saved, and possibly the other. +Papa is very doubtful about it himself, and gets very +despondent at times. He had just been having an especially +blue morning when your letter was brought in, and +he said, when I read it:</p> + +<p>“‘That _is_ a good line to live +by, daughter,’ and he had me get out his volume +of Milton and read the whole sonnet that the line is +taken from. The fact that Milton was blind when he +wrote it made it specially interesting to him.</p> + +<p>“He and mamma both need me sorely now for a +little while, Baby dear, and if you can keep busy +and happy without me I’ll stay away a couple +of weeks longer and help take him home to Kentucky, +but I can’t be contented to stay unless you +send me a postal every day. If nothing more is on it +than your name, written by your own little fingers, +it will put a rainbow around my troubles and help +me to be contented away from you.”</p> + +<p>Georgina spent the rest of the morning answering it. +She had a feeling that she must make up for her father’s +neglect as a correspondent, by writing often herself. +Maybe the family at Grandfather Shirley’s wouldn’t +notice that there was never any letter with a Chinese +stamp on it, addressed in a man’s big hand in +Barby’s pile of mail, if there were others for +her to smile over.</p> + +<p>It had been four months since the last one came. Georgina +had kept careful count, although she had not betrayed +her interest except in the wistful way she watched +Barby when the postman came. It made her throat ache +to see that little shadow of disappointment creep into +Barby’s lovely gray eyes and then see her turn +away with her lips pressed together tight for a moment +before she began to hum or speak brightly about something +else. No Chinese letter had come in her absence to +be forwarded.</p> + +<p>Georgina wished her father could know how very much +Barby cared about hearing from him. Maybe if his attention +were called to it he would write oftener. If the editor +of a big newspaper like Grandfather Shirley, thought +her letters were good enough to print, maybe her father +might pay attention to one of them. A resolve to write +to him some day began to shape itself in her mind.</p> + +<p>She would have been surprised could she have known +that already one of her epistles was on its way to +him. Barby had sent him the “rainbow letter.” +For Barby had not drawn off silent and hurt when his +letters ceased to come, as many a woman would have +done.</p> + +<p>“Away off there in the interior he has missed +the mails,” she told herself. “Or the +messenger he trusted may have failed to post his letters, +or he may be ill. I’ll not judge him until I +know.”</p> + +<p>After Georgina’s letter came she resolutely +put her forebodings and misgivings aside many a time, +prompted by it to steer onward so steadily that hope +must do as Uncle Darcy said, “make rainbows even +of her tears.”</p> + +<p>Georgina wrote on until dinner time, telling all about +the way she had spent her birthday dollar. After dinner +when the sunshine had dried all traces of the previous +night’s rain, she persuaded Tippy that she was +entirely over the effects of the gas, and perfectly +able to go down street and select the picture postals +with which to conduct her daily correspondence.</p> + +<p>Richard joined her as she passed the bungalow. They +made a thrilling afternoon for themselves by whispering +to each other whenever any strange-looking person +passed them, “S’pose _that_ was +the owner of the pouch and he was looking for us.” +The dread of their sin finding them out walked like +a silent-footed ghost beside them all the way, making +the two pairs of brown eyes steal furtive glances +at each other now and then, and delicious little shivers +of apprehension creep up and down their backs.</p> + +<p>Whether it was the passing of the unseasonable weather +into hot July sunshine again or whether the wild-cat +liniment was responsible, no one undertook to say, +but Mrs. Triplett’s rheumatism left her suddenly, +and at a time when she was specially glad to be rid +of it. The Sewing Circle, to which she belonged, was +preparing for a bazaar at the Church of the Pilgrims, +and her part in it would keep her away from home most +of the time for three days.</p> + +<p>That is why Georgina had unlimited freedom for a while. +She was left in Belle’s charge, and Belle, still +brooding over her troubles, listlessly assented to +anything proposed to her. Belle had been allowed to +go and come as she pleased when she was ten, and she +saw no reason why Georgina was not equally capable +of taking care of herself.</p> + +<p>Hardly was Mrs. Triplett out of sight that first morning +when Georgina slipped out of the back gate with a +long brass-handled fire-shovel, to meet Richard out +on the dunes. He brought a hoe, and in his hand was +the little compass imbedded in the nut.</p> + +<p>When all was ready, according to Georgina’s +instructions, he turned around three times, then facing +the east tossed the compass over his shoulder, saying +solemnly, “Brother, go find your brother.” +She stood ready to mark the spot when it should fall, +but Captain Kidd was ahead of her and had the nut +in his teeth before she could reach the place where +it had touched the ground. So Richard took the nut +away and held the agitated little terrier by the collar +while Georgina went through the same ceremony.</p> + +<p>This time Richard reached the nut before the dog, +and drew a circle around the spot where it had lain. +Then he began digging into the sand with the hoe so +industriously that Captain Kidd was moved to frantic +barking.</p> + +<p>“Here, get to work yourself and keep quiet,” +ordered Richard. “Rats! You’ll have Cousin +James coming out to see what we’re doing, first +thing you know. He thinks something is the matter +now, every time you bark. Rats! I say.”</p> + +<p>The magic word had its effect. After an instant of +quivering eagerness the dog pounced into the hole +which Richard had started, and sent the sand flying +furiously around him with his active little paws. Georgina +dragged the accumulating piles aside with the fire-shovel +on one side, and Richard plied the hoe on the other. +When the hole grew too deep for Captain Kidd to dig +in longer, Richard stepped in and went deeper. But +it was unsatisfactory work. The shifting sand, dry +as powder at this depth, was constantly caving in +and filling up the space.</p> + +<p>They tried making new holes, to the north of the old +one, then to the south, then on the remaining sides. +They were still at it when the whistle at the cold-storage +plant blew for noon. Georgina rubbed a sleeve across +her red, perspiring face, and shook the ends of her +curls up and down to cool her hot neck.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how we can dig any more to-day,” +she said wearily. “The sun is blistering. I +feel all scorched.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve had enough,” confessed Richard. +“But we’ve got to find that pouch.”</p> + +<p>After a moment’s rest, leaning on the hoe-handle, +he had an inspiration. “Let’s get Manuel +and Joseph and Rosa to help us. They’d dig all +day for a nickel.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t one nickel left,” said +Georgina. Then she thought a moment. “But I +could bring some jelly-roll. Those Fayals would dig +for eats as quick as they would for money. I’ll +tell Belle we’re going to have a sort of a picnic +over here and she’ll let me bring all that’s +left in the cake box.”</p> + +<p>Richard investigated his pockets. A solitary nickel +was all he could turn out. “Two cents for each +of the boys and one for Rosa,” he said, but +Georgina shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Rosa would make trouble if you divided that +way. She’d howl till somebody came to see what +was the matter. But we could do this way. The one +who gets the least money gets the most jelly-roll. +We’ll wait till the digging is over and then +let them divide it to suit themselves.”</p> + +<p>By five o’clock that afternoon, the compass +had been sent to “hunt brother” in a hundred +different places, and the hollow circled by the bayberry +bushes and beach plums where the pouch had been hidden +filled with deep holes. Captain Kidd had responded +to the repeated call of “Rats” until the +magic word had lost all charm for him. Even a dog comes +to understand in time when a fellow creature has “an +axe to grind.” Finally, he went off and lay +down, merely wagging his tail in a bored way when +any further effort was made to arouse his enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The Fayal children, working valiantly in the trenches, +laid down arms at last and strolled home, their faces +streaked with jelly-roll, and Georgina went wearily +up the beach, dragging her fire-shovel after her. +She felt that she had had enough of the dunes to last +her the rest of her natural lifetime. She seemed to +see piles of sand even when she looked at the water +or when her eyes were shut.</p> + +<p>“But we won’t give up,” she said +staunchly as she parted from Richard. “We’re +obliged to find that pouch, so we’ve _got_ +to keep hope at the prow.”</p> + +<p>“Pity all this good digging has to be wasted,” +said Richard, looking around at the various holes. +“If it had all been in one place, straight down, +it would have been deep enough to strike a pirate’s +chest by this time. I hope they’ll fill up before +anybody comes this way to notice them.”</p> + +<p>“Somehow, I’m not so anxious as I was +to go off ‘a-piratin’ so bold,’” +said Georgina with a tired sigh. “I’ve +had enough digging to last me forever and always, +amen.”</p> + +<p>The Fayal children, surfeited with one afternoon of +such effort, and not altogether satisfied as to the +division of wages which had led to war in their midst, +did not come back to the Place of the Pouch next morning, +but Richard and Georgina appeared promptly, albeit +with sore muscles and ebbing enthusiasm. Only stern +necessity and fear of consequences kept them at their +task.</p> + +<p>Cousin James had reported that there was a fishing +vessel in that morning with two enormous horse mackerel +in the catch, which were to be cut up and salted at +Railroad wharf. It was deliciously cool down on the +wharf, with the breeze blowing off the water through +the great packing shed, and the white sails scudding +past the open doors like fans. With Mrs. Triplett +busy with the affairs of the Bazaar, it would have +been a wonderful opportunity for Georgina to have +gone loitering along the pier, watching the summer +people start off in motor boats or spread themselves +lazily under flapping sails for a trip around the harbor.</p> + +<p>But something of the grim spirit of their ancestors, +typified by the monument looking down on them from +the hill, nerved both Richard and Georgina one more +time to answer to the stern call of Duty.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch17-end.png"><img src="images/ch17-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_18"></a>Chapter XVIII</h1> +<h2>Found Out</h2> + +<p>“I dreamed about that old pouch last night,” +said Richard in one of the intervals of rest which +they allowed themselves.</p> + +<p>“I dreamed that it belonged to a Chinese man +with crooked, yellow finger-nails a foot long. He +came and stood over my bed and said that because there +was important news in that letter and we buried it, +and kept it from going to where it ought to go, _we_ +had to be buried alive. And he picked me up like I +was that nut and tossed me over his shoulder, and +said, ‘Brother, go find your brother.’ +And I began sinking down in the sand deeper and deeper +until I began to smother.”</p> + +<p>Georgina made no answer. The dream did not impress +her as being at all terrifying. She had swung her +prism around her neck that morning when she dressed, +and now while she rested she amused herself by flashing +the bars of color across Captain Kidd. Richard resented +her lack of interest.</p> + +<p>“Well, it may not sound very bad out here in +the daylight, but you ought to have _had_ +it. I yelled until Daddy shook me and told me I’d +wake up the whole end of town with such a nightmare. +If you’d have seen that old Chinaman’s +face like a dragon’s, you’d understand +why I feel that we’ve just got to find that +pouch. It’s going to get us into some kind of +trouble, certain sure, if we don’t.”</p> + +<p>Georgina rose to begin digging again. “It’s +lucky nobody ever comes this way to see all these +holes,” she began, but stopped with her shovel +half lifted. A familiar voice from the circle of bushes +at the top of the dune called down cheerily:</p> + +<p>“Ship ahoy, mates. What port are you bound for +now? Digging through to China?”</p> + +<p>“It’s Uncle Darcy!” they exclaimed +in the same breath. He came plunging down the side +of the dune before they could recover from their confusion. +There was a pail of blueberries in each hand. He had +been down the state road picking them, and was now +on his way to the Gray Inn to sell them to the housekeeper. +Leaving the pails in a level spot under the shade of +a scrubby bush, he came on to where the children were +standing, and eased himself stiffly down to a seat +on the sand. It amused him to see their evident embarrassment, +and his eyes twinkled as he inquired:</p> + +<p>“What mischief are you up to now, digging all +those gopher holes?”</p> + +<p>Neither answered for a moment, then Georgina gulped +and found her voice. “It’s--it’s +a secret,” she managed to say.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he answered, growing instantly grave +at the sound of that word. “Then I mustn’t +ask any questions. We must always keep our secrets. +Sometimes it’s a pity though, when one has to +promise to do so. I hope yours isn’t the burden +to you that mine is to me.”</p> + +<p>This was the first time he had spoken to them of the +promise they had made to him and Belle. With a look +all around as if to make certain the coast was clear, +he said:</p> + +<p>“There’s something I’ve been wanting +to say to you children ever since that day you had +the rifle, and now’s as good a chance as any. +I want you to know that I never would have promised +what I did if it could have made any possible difference +to Mother. But lately she seems all confused about +Danny’s trouble. She seems to have forgotten +there was any trouble except that he went away from +home. For months she’s been looking for him +to walk in most any day.</p> + +<p>“Ever since I gave my word to Belle, I’ve +been studying over the right and wrong of it. I felt +I wasn’t acting fair to Danny. But now it’s +clear in my mind that it _was_ the right +thing to do. I argue it this way. Danny cared so much +about saving Emmett from disgrace and Belle from the +pain of finding it out, that he was willing to give +up his home and good name and everything. Now it wouldn’t +be fair to him to make that sacrifice in vain by telling +while it can still be such a death-blow to Emmett’s +father and hurt Belle much as ever. She’s gone +on all these years fairly worshiping Emmett’s +memory for being such a hero.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy stopped suddenly and seemed to be drawn +far away from them as if he had gone inside of himself +with his own thoughts and forgotten their presence. +Georgina sat and fanned herself with her shade hat. +Richard fumbled with the little compass, rolling it +from one hand to the other, without giving any thought +to what he was doing. Presently it rolled away from +him and Captain Kidd darted after it, striking it with +his forepaws as he landed on it, and thus rolling it +still farther till it stopped at the old man’s +feet.</p> + +<p>Recalled to his surroundings in this way, Uncle Darcy +glanced at the object indifferently, but something +strangely familiar in its appearance made him lean +closer and give it another look. He picked it up, examining +it eagerly. Then he stood up and gazed all around as +if it had dropped from the sky and he expected to +see the hand that had dropped it.</p> + +<p>“Where did you get this?” he demanded +huskily, in such a queer, breathless way that Richard +thought his day of reckoning had come. His sin had +found him out. He looked at Georgina helplessly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, tell!” she exclaimed, answering +his look.</p> + +<p>“I--I--just _played_ it was mine,” +he began. “’Cause the initials on it are +the same as mine when we play pirate and I’m +Dare-devil Dick. I was only going to keep it till +we dug up the pouch again. We were keeping it to help +find the pouch like Tom Sawyer did--”</p> + +<p>It seemed to Richard that Uncle Darcy’s hand, +clutching his shoulder, was even more threatening +than the Chinaman’s of his nightmare, and his +voice more imperative.</p> + +<p>“Tell me! Where did you get it? _That’s +my compass!_ I scratched those letters on that +nut. ‘D. D.’ stands for Dan’l Darcy. +I brought it home from my last voyage. ’Twas +a good-luck nut they told me in the last port I sailed +from. It was one of the first things Danny ever played +with. There’s the marks of his first little tooth +under those letters. I gave it to him when he got +old enough to claim it, for the letters were his, +too. He always carried it in his pocket and _he +had it with him when he went away_. For the +love of heaven, child, tell me where you found it?”</p> + +<p>The hand which clutched Richard’s shoulder was +shaking as violently as it had the day the old rifle +gave up its secret, and Richard, feeling the same +unnamable terror he had felt in his nightmare, could +only stammer, “I--I don’t know. Captain +Kidd found it.”</p> + +<p>Then all three of them started violently, for a hearty +voice just behind them called out unexpectedly:</p> + +<p>“Hullo, what’s all the excitement about?”</p> + +<p>It was Captain James Milford, who had strolled down +from the bungalow, his hat stuck jauntily on the back +of his head, and his hands in his pockets. A few moments +before he had been scanning the harbor through a long +spy-glass, and happening to turn it towards the dunes +had seen the two children digging diligently with +shovel and hoe.</p> + +<p>“Looks as if they’d started to honey-comb +the whole Cape with holes,” he thought. “Curious +how many things kids of that age can think of. It might +be well to step down and see what they’re about.”</p> + +<p>He put up the spy-glass and started down, approaching +them on one side as the Towncrier reached them on +the other.</p> + +<p>“Now for a yarn that’ll make their eyes +stand out,” he thought with a smile as he saw +the old man sit down on the sand.</p> + +<p>“Wonder if it would sound as thrilling now as +it did when I was Dick’s age. I believe I’ll +just slip up and listen to one for old times’ +sake.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy let go of Richard’s shoulder and +turned to the newcomer appealingly.</p> + +<p>“Jimmy,” he said with a choke in his voice. +“Look at this! The first trace of my boy since +he left me, and they can’t tell me where they +got it.”</p> + +<p>He held out the compass and Mr. Milford took it from +his trembling fingers.</p> + +<p>“Why, _I_ remember this old trinket, +Uncle Dan’l!” exclaimed Mr. Milford. “You +let me carry it in my pocket one day when I was no +bigger than Dicky, here, when you took me fishing +with you. I thought it was responsible for my luck, +for I made my first big catch that day. Got a mackerel +that I bragged about all season.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy seized the man’s arm with the same +desperate grip which had held the boy’s.</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem to understand!” +he exclaimed. “I’m trying to tell you +that _Danny_ is mixed up with this in some +way. Either he’s been near here or somebody +else has who’s seen him. He had this with him +when he went away, I tell you. These children say +they took it out of a pouch that the dog found. Help +me, Jimmy. I can’t seem to think--”</p> + +<p>He sat weakly down on the sand again, his head in +his hands, and Mr. Milford, deeply interested, turned +to the children. His questions called out a confusing +and involved account, told piecemeal by Georgina and +Richard in turn.</p> + +<p>“Hold on, now, let’s get the straight +of this,” he interrupted, growing more bewildered +as the story proceeded. “What was in the pouch +besides the gold pieces, the other money and this +compass?”</p> + +<p>“A letter with a foreign stamp on it,” +answered Richard. “I noticed specially, because +I have a stamp almost like it in my album.”</p> + +<p>On being closely cross-questioned he could not say +positively to what country the stamp belonged. He +thought it was Siam or China. Georgina recalled several +names of towns partially scratched out on the back +of the envelope, and the word Texas. She was sure +of that and of “Mass.” and of “Mrs. +Henry--” something or other.</p> + +<p>“But the inside of the letter,” persisted +Mr. Milford. “Didn’t you try to read that?”</p> + +<p>“Course not,” said Georgina, her head +indignantly high. “We only looked at each end +of it to see if the person’s name was on it, +but it began, ‘Dear friend,’ and ended, +‘Your grateful friend Dave.’”</p> + +<p>“So the letter was addressed ‘_Mrs_.’” +began Mr. Milford, musingly, “but was in a tobacco +pouch. The first fact argues that a woman lost it, +the last that it was a man.”</p> + +<p>“But it didn’t smell of tobacco,” +volunteered Georgina. “It was nice and clean +only where Captain Kidd chewed the string.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it didn’t have any smell at +all,” said Mr. Milford, not as if he expected +anyone to remember, but that he happened to think of +it. A slowly dawning recollection began to brighten +in Georgina’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“But it did have a smell,” she exclaimed. +“I remember it perfectly well now. Don’t +you know, Richard, when you were untying it at the +top of the steps I said ’Phew! that makes me +think of the liniment I bought from the wild-cat woman +last night,’ I had to hold the bottle in my lap +all the time we were at the moving picture show so +I had a chance to get pretty well acquainted with +that smell. And afterwards when we were wrapping the +tin foil around the pouch, getting ready to bury it +we both turned up our noses at the way it smelled. +It seemed stronger when the sun shone on it.”</p> + +<p>“The wild-cat woman,” repeated Mr. Milford, +turning on Georgina. “Where was she? What did +you have to do with her? Was the dog with you?”</p> + +<p>Little by little they began to recall the evening, +how they had started to the show with the Fayal family +and turned aside to hear the patent medicine man sing, +how Richard and Georgina had dared each other to touch +the wild-cat’s tail through the bars, and how +Georgina in climbing down from the wheel had stumbled +over Captain Kidd whom they thought safely shut up +at home.</p> + +<p>“I believe we’ve found a clue,” +said Mr. Milford at last. “If anybody in town +had lost it there’d have been a notice put up +in the post-office or the owner would have been around +for you to cry it, Uncle Dan’l. But if it’s +the wild-cat woman’s she probably did not discover +her loss till she was well out of town, and maybe +not until she reached her next stopping-place.”</p> + +<p>“There’s been nothing of the sort posted +on the bulletin board at the post-office,” said +the old man. “I always glance in at it every +morning.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford looked at him thoughtfully as if considering +something. Then he said slowly:</p> + +<p>“Uncle Dan’l, just how much would it mean +to you to find the owner of that pouch?”</p> + +<p>“Why, Jimmy,” was the tremulous answer, +“if it led to any trace of my boy it would be +the one great hope of my life realized.”</p> + +<p>“You are quite sure that you _want_ +to bring him back? That it would be best for all concerned?” +he continued meaningly.</p> + +<p>There was a silence, then the old man answered with +dignity:</p> + +<p>“I know what you’re thinking of, and considering +all that’s gone before, I’m not blaming +you, but I can tell you this, Jimmy Milford. If the +town could know all that I know it’d be glad +and proud to have my boy brought back to it.”</p> + +<p>He smote the fist of one hand into the palm of the +other and looked about like something trapped, seeking +escape.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t fair!” he exclaimed. “It +isn’t fair! Him worthy to hold up his head with +the best of them, and me bound not to tell. But I’ve +given my promise,” he added, shaking his head +slowly from side to side. “I s’pose it’ll +all work out for the best, somehow, in the Lord’s +own good time, but I can’t seem to see the justice +in it now.”</p> + +<p>He sat staring dejectedly ahead of him with dim, appealing +eyes.</p> + +<p>The younger man took a step forward and laid an arm +across the bent shoulders.</p> + +<p>“All right, Uncle Dan’l,” he said +heartily. “If there’s anything under the +sun I can do to help you I’m going to do it, +beginning right now. Come on up to the house and I’ll +begin this Sherlock Holmes business by telephoning +down the Cape to every town on it till we locate this +wild-cat liniment wagon, and then we’ll get +after it as fast as the best automobile in Provincetown +can take us.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch18-end.png"><img src="images/ch18-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_19"></a>Chapter XIX</h1> +<h2>Tracing the Liniment Wagon</h2> + +<p>To Wellfleet, to Orleans, to Chatham went the telephone +call, to Harwichport and then back again to the little +towns on the bay side of the Cape, for the wild-cat +and its keepers did not follow a straight course in +their meanderings. It was some time before Mr. Milford +succeeded in locating them. At last he hung up the +receiver announcing:</p> + +<p>“They showed in Orleans last night all right, +but it wasn’t the road to Chatham they took +out of there this morning. It was to Brewster. We can +easily overtake them somewhere along in that direction +and get back home before dark.”</p> + +<p>There was one ecstatic moment for Georgina when it +was made clear to her that she was included in that +“we”; that she was actually to have a share +in an automobile chase like the ones that had thrilled +her in the movies. But that moment was soon over.</p> + +<p>“I hardly know what to do about leaving Mother,” +began Uncle Darcy in a troubled voice. “She’s +feeling uncommon poorly to-day--she’s in bed +and can’t seem to remember anything longer than +you’re telling it. Mrs. Saggs came in to sit +with her while I was out blueberrying, but she said +she couldn’t stay past ten o’clock. She +has company coming.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you get some of the other neighbors +to come in for the few hours you’d be away?” +asked Mr. Milford. “It’s important you +should follow up this clue yourself.”</p> + +<p>“No, Mrs. Saggs is the only one who keeps Mother +from fretting when I’m away from her. Her side +window looks right into our front yard, and ordinarily +it would be enough just for her to call across to her +now and then, but it wouldn’t do to-day, Mother +not being as well as common. She’d forget where +I was gone and I couldn’t bear to have her lying +there frightened and worried and not remembering why +I had left her alone. She’s like a child at +times. _You_ know how it is,” he said, +turning to Georgina. “Not flighty, but just +needing to be soothed and talked to.”</p> + +<p>Georgina nodded. She knew, for on several occasions +she had sat beside Aunt Elspeth when she was in such +a mood, and had quieted and pleased her with little +songs and simple rhymes. She knew she could do it again +to-day as effectually as Mrs. Saggs, if it wasn’t +for giving up that exciting motor chase after the +wild-cat woman. It seemed to her a greater sacrifice +than flesh and blood should be called upon to make. +She sat on the porch step, twirling her prism carelessly +on its pink ribbon while she waited for the machine +to be brought around. Then she climbed into the back +seat with Uncle Darcy and the two pails of blueberries, +while Richard settled himself and Captain Kidd in +front with his Cousin James.</p> + +<p>They whirled up to the Gray Inn to leave the blueberries, +and then around down Bradford Street to Fishburn Court +to attempt to explain to Aunt Elspeth. On the way +they passed the Pilgrim monument. Georgina tried not +to look at it, but she couldn’t help glancing +up at it from the corner of her eye.</p> + +<p>“You must,” it seemed to say to her.</p> + +<p>“I won’t,” she as silently answered +back.</p> + +<p>“It’s your duty,” it reminded her, +“and the idea of a descendant of one of the +Pilgrim Fathers and one of the Minute-men shirking +her duty. A pretty member of the Rainbow Club _you_ +are,” it scoffed.</p> + +<p>They whirled by the grim monster of a monument quickly, +but Georgina felt impelled to turn and look back at +it, her gaze following it up higher and higher, above +the gargoyles, to the tipmost stones which seemed to +touch the sky.</p> + +<p>“I hate that word Duty,” she said savagely +to herself. “It’s as big and ugly and +as always-in-front-of-you as that old monument. They’re +exactly alike. You can’t help seeing them no +matter which way you look or how hard you try not +to.”</p> + +<p>At the gate she tried to put the obnoxious word out +of her mind by leaning luxuriously back in the car +and looking up at the chimney tops while Uncle Darcy +stepped out and went into the house. He came out again +almost immediately, crossed the little front yard and +put his head in at Mrs. Saggs’ side window. +After a short conversation with her he came out to +the gate and stood irresolutely fingering the latch.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what to do,” he repeated, +his voice even more troubled than before. “Mother’s +asleep now. Mrs. Saggs says she’ll go over at +twelve and take her her tea, but--I can’t help +feeling I ought not to leave her alone for so long. +Couldn’t you manage without me?”</p> + +<p>And then, Georgina inwardly protesting, “I don’t +want to and I won’t,” found herself stepping +out of the car, and heard her own voice saying sweetly:</p> + +<p>“I’ll stay with Aunt Elspeth, Uncle Darcy. +I can keep her from fretting.”</p> + +<p>A smile of relief broke over the old man’s face +and he said heartily:</p> + +<p>“Why, of course you can, honey. It never occurred +to me to ask a little lass like you to stop and care +for her, but you can do it better than anybody else, +because Mother’s so fond of you.”</p> + +<p>Neither had it occurred to him or to either of the +others that it was a sacrifice for her to give up +this ride. There was not a word from anyone about +its being a noble thing for her to do. Mr. Milford, +in a hurry to be off, merely nodded his satisfaction +at having the matter arranged so quickly. Uncle Darcy +stepped back to the window for a parting word with +Mrs. Saggs.</p> + +<p>“She’ll keep an ear out for you, Georgina,” +he said as he went back to the car. “Just call +her if you want her for any reason. There’s plenty +cooked in the cupboard for your dinner, and Mrs. Saggs +will tend to Mother’s tea when the time comes. +When she wakes up and asks for me best not tell her +I’m out of town. Just say I’ll be back +bye and bye, and humor her along that way.”</p> + +<p>And then they were off with a whirr and a clang that +sent the chickens in the road scattering in every +direction. Georgina was left standing by the gate +thinking, “What made me do it? What _made_ +me do it? I don’t want to stay one bit.”</p> + +<p>The odor of gasoline cleared away and the usual Sabbath-like +stillness settled down over all the court. She walked +slowly across the shady little grass plot to the front +door, hesitated there a moment, then went into the +cottage and took off her hat.</p> + +<p>A glance into the dim bedroom beyond showed her Aunt +Elspeth’s white head lying motionless on her +pillow. The sight of the quiet sleeper made her feel +appallingly lonesome. It was like being all by herself +in the house to be there with one who made no sound +or movement. She would have to find something to do. +It was only eleven o’clock. She tiptoed out into +the kitchen.</p> + +<p>The almanac had been left lying on the table. She +looked slowly through it, and was rewarded by finding +something of interest. On the last page was a column +of riddles, and one of them was so good she started +to memorize it so that she could propound it to Richard. +She was sure he never could guess it. Finding it harder +to remember than it seemed at first glance, she decided +to copy it. She did not know where to look for a sheet +of paper, but remembered several paper bags on the +pantry shelves, so she went in search of one. Finding +one with only a cupful of sugar left in it, she tore +off the top and wrote the riddle on that with a stub +of a pencil which she found on the table.</p> + +<p>While searching for the bag she took an inventory +of the supplies in the pantry from which she was to +choose her dinner. When she had finished copying the +riddle she went back to them. There were baked beans +and blueberry pie, cold biscuit and a dish of honey.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get my dinner now,” she decided, +“then I’ll be ready to sit with Aunt Elspeth +when her tea comes.”</p> + +<p>As Georgina went back and forth from table to shelf +it was in unconscious imitation of Mrs. Triplett’s +brisk manner. Pattering after that capable housekeeper +on her busy rounds as persistently as Georgina had +done all her life, had taught her to move in the same +way. Presently she discovered that there was a fire +laid in the little wood stove ready to light. The +stove was so small in comparison to the big kitchen +range at home, that it appealed to Georgina as a toy +stove might have done. She stood looking at it thinking +what fun it would be to cook something on it all by +herself with no Tippy standing by to say do this or +don’t do the other.</p> + +<p>“I think I ought to be allowed to have some +fun to make up for my disappointment,” she said +to herself as the temptation grew stronger and stronger.</p> + +<p>“I could cook me an egg. Tippy lets me beat +them but she never lets me break them and I’ve +always wanted to break one and let it go plunk into +the pan.”</p> + +<p>She did not resist the temptation long. There was +the sputter of a match, the puff of a flame, and the +little stove was roaring away so effectively that +one of old Jeremy’s sayings rose to her lips. +Jeremy had a proverb for everything.</p> + +<p>“Little pot, soon hot,” she said out loud, +gleefully, and reached into the cupboard for the crock +of bran in which the eggs were kept. Then Georgina’s +skill as an actor showed itself again, although she +was not conscious of imitating anyone. In Tippy’s +best manner she wiped out the frying-pan, settled +it in a hot place on the stove, dropped in a bit of +butter.</p> + +<p>With the assured air of one who has had long practice, +she picked up an egg and gave it a sharp crack on +the edge of the pan, expecting it to part evenly into +halves and its contents to glide properly into the +butter. It looked so alluringly simple and easy that +she had always resented Tippy’s saying she would +make a mess of it if she tried to do it. But mess +was the only name which could be given to what poured +out on the top of the stove as her fingers went crashing +through the shell and into the slimy feeling contents. +The broken yolk dripped from her hands, and in the +one instant she stood holding them out from her in +disgust, all the rest of the egg which had gone sliding +over the stove, cooked, scorched and turned to a cinder.</p> + +<p>The smell and smoke of the burning egg rose to the +ceiling and filled the room. Georgina sprang to close +the door so that the odor would not rouse Aunt Elspeth, +and then with carving knife and stove-lid lifter, she +scraped the charred remains into the fire.</p> + +<p>“And it looked _so_ easy,” she +mourned. “Maybe I didn’t whack it quickly +enough. I’m going to try again.” She felt +into the bran for another egg. This time she struck +the shell so hard that its contents splashed out sideways +with an unexpected squirt and slid to the floor. She +was ready to cry as she wiped up the slippery stuff, +but there came to her mind some verses which Tippy +had taught her long ago. And so determined had Tippy +been for her to learn them, that she offered the inducement +of a string of blue beads. The name of the poem was +“Perseverance,” and it began:</p> + +<blockquote>“Here’s a lesson all should heed--<br /> + Try, try again.<br /> +If at first you don’t succeed,<br /> + Try, try again.”</blockquote> + +<p>and it ended,</p> + +<blockquote>“That which other folks can do<br /> +Why with patience may not you?<br /> + Try, try again.”</blockquote> + +<p>Tippy sowed that seed the same winter that she taught +Georgina “The Landing of the Pilgrims”; +but surely, no matter how long a time since then, +Tippy should be held accountable for the after effects +of that planting. If Georgina persevered it was no +more than could be expected considering her rigorous +up-bringing.</p> + +<p>Georgina pushed the frying-pan to the back of the +stove where it was cooler, and with her red lips pursed +into a tight line, chose another egg, smote it sharply +on the edge of the pan, thereby cracking it and breaking +the shell into halves. Her thumbs punched through into +the yolk of this one also, but by letting part of +the shell drop with it, she managed to land it all +in the pan. That was better. She fished out the fragment +of shell and took another egg.</p> + +<p>This time the feat was accomplished as deftly as an +exoert chef could have done it, and a pleased smile +took the place of the grim determination on Georgina’s +face. Elated by her success she broke another egg, +then another and another. It was as easy as breathing +or winking. She broke another for the pure joy of +putting her dexterity to the test once more. Then +she stopped, appalled by the pile of empty shells +confronting her accusingly. She counted them. She had +broken eight-- three-fourths of a setting. What would +Uncle Darcy say to such a wicked waste? She could +burn the shells, but what an awful lot of insides to +dispose of. All mixed up as they were, they couldn’t +be saved for cake. There was nothing to do but to +scramble them.</p> + +<p>Scramble them she did, and the pan seemed to grow +fuller and fuller as she tossed the fluffy mass about +with a fork. It was fun doing that. She made the most +of this short space of time, and it was over all too +soon. She knew that Aunt Elspeth had grown tired of +eggs early in the summer. There was no use saving +any for her. Georgina herself was not especially fond +of them, but she would have to eat all she could to +keep them from being wasted.</p> + +<p>Some time after she rose from the table and looked +at the dish with a feeling of disgust that there could +still be such a quantity left, after she had eaten +so much that it was impossible to enjoy even a taste +of the blueberry pie or the honey. Carrying the dish +out through the back door she emptied it into the +cats’ pan, fervently wishing that John and Mary +Darcy and old Yellownose could dispose of it all without +being made ill.</p> + +<p>Long ago she had learned to do her sums in the sand. +Now she stooped down and with the handle of her spoon +scratched some figures in the path. “If twelve +eggs cost thirty cents, how much will eight eggs cost?” +That was the sum she set for herself. Only that morning +she had heard Tippy inquire the price of eggs from +the butter-woman, and say they were unusually high +and hard to get because they were so many summer people +in town this season. She didn’t know where they +were going to get enough for all the cakes necessary +for the Bazaar.</p> + +<p>It took Georgina some time to solve the problem. Then +going back to the kitchen she gathered up all the +shells and dropped them into the fire. Her sacrifice +was costing her far more than she had anticipated. +Somehow, somewhere, she must get hold of twenty cents +to pay for those eggs. Duty again. _Always_ +Duty. But for that one horrid word she would be racing +down the road to Brewster in the wake of the wild-cat +woman. She wondered if they had caught up with her +yet.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch19-end.png"><img src="images/ch19-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_20"></a>Chapter XX</h1> +<h2>Dance of the Rainbow Fairies</h2> + +<p>Georgina, intent on washing the frying-pan and cleaning +the last vestige of burnt egg from the top of the +stove, did not hear Mrs. Saggs come in at the front +door with Aunt Elspeth’s dinner on a tray. Nor +did she hear the murmur of voices that went on while +it was being eaten. The bedroom was in the front of +the house, and the rasping noise she was making as +she scratched away with the edge of an iron spoon, +kept her from hearing anything else. So when the door +into the kitchen suddenly opened it gave her such +a start that she dropped the dishcloth into the woodbox.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Saggs sniffed suspiciously. There was something +reproachful in the mere tilt of her nose which Georgina +felt and resented.</p> + +<p>“I thought I smelled something burning.”</p> + +<p>“I s’pect you did,” Georgina answered +calmly. “But it’s all over now. I was +getting my dinner early, so’s I could sit with +Aunt Elspeth afterward.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Saggs had both hands full, as she was carrying +her tray, so she could not open the stove to look +in; but she walked over towards it and peered at it +from a closer viewpoint, continuing to sniff. But there +was nothing for her to discover, no clue to the smell. +Everything which Georgina had used was washed and +back in place now. The sharp eyes made a survey of +the kitchen, watching Georgina narrowly as the child, +having rinsed the dishcloth after its fall, leaned +out of the back door to hang it on a bush in the sun, +as Uncle Darcy always did.</p> + +<p>“You’ve been taught to be real neat, haven’t +you?” she said in an approving tone which made +Georgina like her better. Then her glance fell on +a work-basket which had been left sitting on top of +the flour barrel. In it was a piece of half-finished +mending. The sharp eyes softened.</p> + +<p>“I declare!” she exclaimed. “It’s +downright pitiful the way that old man tries to do +for himself and his poor old wife. It’s surprising, +though, how well he gets along with the housework +and taking care of her and all.”</p> + +<p>She glanced again at the needle left sticking in the +clumsy unfinished seam, and recognized the garment.</p> + +<p>“Well, I wish you’d look at that! Even +trying to patch her poor old nightgown for her! Can +you beat that? Here, child, give it to me. My hands +are full with this tray, so just stick it under my +arm. I’ll mend it this afternoon while I’m +setting talking to the company.”</p> + +<p>She tightened her grip on the bundle which Georgina +thrust under her arm, and looked down at it.</p> + +<p>“Them pitiful old stiff fingers of his’n!” +she exclaimed. “They sure make a botch of sewing, +but they don’t ever make a botch of being kind. +Well, I’m off now. Guess you’d better +run in and set with Mis’ Darcy for a spell, +for she’s waked up real natural and knowing now, +and seems to crave company.”</p> + +<p>Georgina went, but paused on the way, seeing the familiar +rooms in a new light, since Mrs. Saggs’ remarks +had given her new and illuminating insight. Everywhere +she looked there was something as eloquent as that +bit of unfinished mending to bear witness that Uncle +Darcy was far more than just a weather-beaten old +man with a smile and word of cheer for everybody. +Ringing the Towncrier’s bell and fishing and +blueberrying and telling yarns and helping everybody +bear their trouble was the least part of his doings. +That was only what the world saw. That was all she +had seen herself until this moment.</p> + +<p>Now she was suddenly aware of his bigness of soul +which made him capable of an infinite tenderness and +capacity to serve. His devotion to Aunt Elspeth spread +an encircling care around her as a great oak throws +the arms of its shade, till her comfort was his constant +thought, her happiness his greatest desire.</p> + +<p>“Them pitiful, old, stiff fingers of his’n!” +How could Mrs. Saggs speak of them so? They were heroic, +effectual fingers. Theirs was something far greater +than the Midas touch--they transmuted the smallest +service into Love’s gold.</p> + +<p>Georgina, with her long stretching up to books that +were “over her head,” understood this +without being able to put it into words. Nor could +she put into words the longing which seized her like +a dull ache, for _Barby_ to be loved and +cared for like that, to be as constantly and supremely +considered. She couldn’t understand how Aunt +Elspeth, old and wrinkled and childish, could be the +object of such wonderful devotion, and Barby, her +adorable, winsome Barby, call forth less.</p> + +<p>“Not one letter in four long months,” +she thought bitterly.</p> + +<p>“Dan’l,” called Aunt Elspeth feebly +from the next room, and Georgina went in to assure +her that Uncle Darcy was _not_ out in the +boat and would not be brought home drowned. He was +attending to some important business and would be +back bye and bye. In the meantime, she was going to +hang her prism in the window where the sun could touch +it and let the rainbow fairies dance over the bed.</p> + +<p>The gay flashes of color, darting like elfin wings +here and there as Georgina twisted the ribbon, pleased +Aunt Elspeth as if she were a child. She lifted a +thin, shriveled hand to catch at them and gave a weak +little laugh each time they eluded her grasp. It was +such a thin hand, almost transparent, with thick, +purplish veins standing out on it. Georgina glanced +at her own and wondered if Aunt Elspeth’s ever +could have been dimpled and soft like hers. It did +not seem possible that this frail old woman with the +snowy-white hair and sunken cheeks could ever have +been a rosy child like herself. As if in answer to +her thought, Aunt Elspeth spoke, groping again with +weak, ineffectual passes after the rainbows.</p> + +<p>“I can’t catch them. They bob around so. +That’s the way I used to be, always on the move. +They called me ‘Bouncing Bet!’”</p> + +<p>“Tell me about that time,” urged Georgina. +Back among early memories Aunt Elspeth’s mind +walked with firm, unfailing tread. It was only among +those of later years that she hesitated and groped +her way as if lost in fog. By the time the clock had +struck the hours twice more Georgina felt that she +knew intimately a mischievous girl whom her family +called Bouncing Bet for her wild ways, but who bore +no trace of a resemblance to the feeble old creature +who recounted her pranks.</p> + +<p>And the blue-eyed romp who could sail a boat like +a boy or swim like a mackerel grew up into a slender +slip of a lass with a shy grace which made one think +of a wild-flower. At least that is what the old daguerreotype +showed Georgina when Aunt Elspeth sent her rummaging +through a trunk to find it. It was taken in a white +dress standing beside a young sailor in his uniform. +No wonder Uncle Darcy looked proud in the picture. +But Georgina never would have known it was Uncle Darcy +if she hadn’t been told. He had changed, too.</p> + +<p>The picture make Georgina think of one of Barby’s +songs, and presently when Aunt Elspeth was tired of +talking she sang it to her:</p> + +<blockquote>“Hand in hand when our life was May.<br /> +Hand in hand when our hair is gray.<br /> + Sorrow and sun for everyone<br /> + As the years roll on.<br /> +Hand in hand when the long night tide<br /> +Gently covers us side by side------<br /> +Ah, lad, though we know not when,<br /> +Love will be with us forever then.<br /> +Always the same, Darby my own,<br /> +Always the same to your old wife Joan!”</blockquote> + +<p>After that there were other songs which Aunt Elspeth +asked for, “Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast,” +and “Robin Adair.” Then came a long tiresome +pause when Georgina didn’t know what to do next, +and Aunt Elspeth turned her head restlessly on the +pillow and seemed uneasy.</p> + +<p>Georgina wished with all her heart she was out of +the stuffy little bedroom. If she had gone with the +others, she would be speeding along the smooth, white +road now, coming home from Brewster, with the wind +and sunshine of all the wide, free outdoors around +her.</p> + +<p>Aunt Elspeth drew a long, tired sigh.</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’d like me to read to you,” +ventured Georgina. She hesitated over making such +an offer, because there were so few books in the house. +Nothing but the almanac looked interesting. Aunt Elspeth +assented, and pointed out a worn little volume of +devotions on top of the bureau, saying:</p> + +<p>“That’s what Dan’l reads me on Sundays.”</p> + +<p>Georgina opened it. Evidently it had been compiled +for the use of sea-faring people, for it was full +of the promises that sailor-folk best understand; +none of the shepherd psalms or talk of green pastures +and help-giving hills. It was all about mighty waters +and paths through the deep. She settled herself comfortably +in the low rocking-chair beside the bed, tossed back +her curls and was about to begin, when one of the +rainbow lights from the prism danced across the page. +She waited, smiling, until it glimmered away. Then +she read the verses on which it had shone.</p> + +<p>_"All thy waves and thy billows are gone over +me, yet the Lord will command His loving kindness +in the daytime, and in the night His song shall be +with me."_</p> + +<p>The sweet little voice soothed the troubled spirit +that listened like music.</p> + +<p>_"When thou passeth through the waters I will +be with thee, and through the rivers: they shall not +overflow thee.... Thus saith the Lord which maketh +a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters."_</p> + +<p>Aunt Elspeth reached out a groping hand for Georgina’s +and took the soft little fingers in hers. Georgina +didn’t want to have her hand held, especially +in such a stiff, bony clasp. It made her uncomfortable +to sit with her arm stretched up in such a position, +but she was too polite to withdraw it, so she read +on for several pages.</p> + +<p>_"He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves +thereof are still. So He bringeth them into their +desired haven."_</p> + +<p>Attracted by the sound of heavy breathing, she looked +up. Aunt Elspeth was asleep. Georgina laid the book +on the table, and slowly, very slowly began to raise +herself out of the chair, afraid of arousing the sleeper +who still held her hand. As she stood up, the board +in the floor under her squeaked. She was afraid to +take another step or to try to pull her hand away. +She had come to the end of her resources for entertainment, +and she was afraid Aunt Elspeth’s next awakening +might be to a crying, restless mood which she could +not control. So she sat down again.</p> + +<p>It was very still in the bedroom. A fly buzzed on +the outside of the window screen, and away off on +another street the “accommodation” was +going by. She could hear the bells jingling on the +horses. As she sat thus, not even rocking, but just +jiggling the chair a trifle, the words she had read +began to come back to her after a while like a refrain: +“So He bringeth them into their desired haven. +So He bringeth them into their desired haven.” +She whispered them over and over as she often whispered +songs, hearing the music which had no tone except in +her thought.</p> + +<p>And presently, as the whispered song repeated itself, +the words began to bring a wonderful sense of peace +and security. She did not realize what it was that +was speaking to her through them. It was the faith +which had lived so long in these lowly little rooms. +It was the faith which had upborne Uncle Darcy year +after year, helping him to steer onward in the confidence +that the Hand he trusted would fulfil all its promises. +She felt the subtle influence that goes out from such +lives, without knowing what it was that touched her. +She was conscious of it only as she was conscious +of the nearness of mignonette when its fragrance stole +in from the flower-bed under the window. They were +both unseen but the mignonette’s fragrance was +wonderfully sweet, and the feeling of confidence, +breathing through the words of the old psalm was wonderfully +strong. Some day she, too, would be brought, and Barby +would he brought into “their desired haven.”</p> + +<p>Georgina was tired. It had been a full day, beginning +with that digging in the dunes. Presently she began +to nod. Then the rocking chair ceased to sway. When +the clock struck again she did not hear it. She was +sound asleep with her hand still clasped in Aunt Elspeth’s.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_21"></a>Chapter XXI</h1> +<h2>On the Trail of the Wild-Cat Woman</h2> + +<p>Meanwhile, the pursuing party had made the trip to +Brewster and were on their way home. At the various +small towns where they stopped to ask questions, they +found that the patent-medicine vendors had invariably +followed one course. They had taken supper at the hotel, +but after each evening’s performance had driven +into the country a little way to camp for the night, +in the open. At Orleans an acquaintance of Mr. Milford’s +in a feed store had much to say about them.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know whether they camp out of +consideration for the wild-cat, or whether it’s +because they’re attached to that rovin’, +gypsy life. They’re good spenders, and from +the way they sold their liniment here last night, +you’d think they could afford to put up at a +hotel all the time and take a room for the cat in +the bargain. You needn’t tell me that beast ever +saw the banks of the Brazos. I’ll bet they caught +it up in the Maine woods some’rs. But they seem +such honest, straightforward sort of folks, somehow +you have to believe ’em. They’re a friendly +pair, too, specially the old lady. Seems funny to +hear you speak of her as the wild-cat woman. That +name is sure a misfit for her.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford thought so himself, when a little later +he came across her, a mile out of Brewster. She was +sitting in the wooden rocking chair in one end of +the ivagon, placidly darning a pair of socks, while +she waited for her husband to bring the horses from +some place up in the woods where he had taken them +for water. They had been staked by the roadside all +night to graze. The wild-cat was blinking drowsily +in its cage, having just been fed.</p> + +<p>Some charred sticks and a little pile of ashes by +the roadside, showed where she had cooked dinner over +a camp-fire, but the embers were carefully extinguished +and the frying pan and dishes were stowed out of sight +in some mysterious compartment under the wagon bed, +as compactly as if they had been parts of a Chinese +puzzle. Long experience on the road had taught her +how to pack with ease and dexterity.</p> + +<p>She looked up with interest as the automobile drew +out of the road, and stopped alongside the wagon. +She was used to purchasers following them out of town +for the liniment after a successful show like last +night’s performance.</p> + +<p>Despite the feedman’s description of her, Mr. +Milford had expected to see some sort of an adventuress +such as one naturally associates with such a business, +and when he saw the placid old lady with the smooth, +gray hair, and met the gaze of the motherly eyes peering +over her spectacles at him, he scarcely knew how to +begin. Uncle Darcy, growing impatient at the time +consumed in politely leading up to the object of their +coming, fidgetted in his seat. At last he could wait +no longer for remarks about weather and wild-cats. +Such conversational paths led nowhere. He interrupted +abruptly.</p> + +<p>“I’m the Towncrier from Provincetown, +ma’am. Did you lose anything while you were +there?”</p> + +<p>“Well, now,” she began slowly. “I +can’t say where I lost it. I didn’t think +it was in Provincetown though. I made sure it was some +place between Harwichport and Orleans, and I had my +man post notices in both those places.”</p> + +<p>“And what was it you lost?” inquired Mr. +Milford politely. He had cautioned his old friend +on the way down at intervals of every few miles, not +to build his hopes up too much on finding that this +woman was the owner of the pouch.</p> + +<p>“You may have to follow a hundred different +clues before you get hold of the right one,” +he warned him. “We’re taking this trip +on the mere chance that we’ll find the owner, +just because two children associated the pouch in +their memory with the odor of liniment. It is more +than likely they’re mistaken and that this is +all a wild-goose chase.”</p> + +<p>But Uncle Darcy _had_ built his hopes on +it, had set his heart on finding this was the right +clue, and his beaming face said, “I told you +so,” when she answered:</p> + +<p>“It was a little tobacco pouch, and I’m +dreadfully put out over losing it, because aside from +the valuables and keep-sakes in it there was a letter +that’s been following me all over the country. +It didn’t reach me till just before I got to +Provincetown. It’s from some heathen country +with such an outlandish name I couldn’t remember +it while I was reading it, scarcely, and now I’ll +never think of it again while the world wags, and +there’s no way for me to answer it unless I do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t say that!” exclaimed +Uncle Darcy. “You _must_ think of +it. And I _must_ know. How did this come +into your hands?”</p> + +<p>He held out the little watch-fob charm, the compass +set in a nut and she seized it eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Well, you did find my pouch, didn’t you?” +she exclaimed. “I made sure that was what you +were aiming to tell me. That’s a good-luck charm. +It was given to me as much as eight years ago, by +a young fellow who was taken sick on our ranch down +in Texas. He’d been working around the docks +in Galveston, but came on inland because somebody roped +him in to believe he could make a fortune in cattle +in a few months. He was riding fences for Henry, and +he came down with a fever and Henry and me nursed him +through.”</p> + +<p>Always talkative, she poured out her information now +in a stream, drawn on by the compelling eagerness +of the old man’s gaze.</p> + +<p>“He was a nice boy and the most grateful soul +you ever saw. But he didn’t take to the cattle +business, and he soon pushed on. He was all broke up +when it came to saying good-bye. You could see that, +although he’s one of your quiet kind, hiding +his real feelings like an Indian. He gave me this +good-luck charm when he left, because he didn’t +have anything else to give, to show he appreciated +our nursing him and doing for him, and he said that +he’d _make_ it bring us good luck or +die a-trying and we’d hear from him some of +these days.”</p> + +<p>“And you did?”</p> + +<p>The old man’s face was twitching with eagerness +as he asked the question.</p> + +<p>“Yes, about five years ago he sent us a nice +little check at Christmas. Said he had a good job +with a wealthy Englishman who spent his time going +around the world discovering queer plants and writing +books about them. He was in South America then. We’ve +heard from him several times since. This last letter +followed me around from pillar to post, always just +missing me and having to have the address scratched +out and written over till you could hardly make head +or tail of what was on it.</p> + +<p>“He asked me to write to the address he gave +me, but whether it was in ‘Afric’s sunny +fountain or India’s coral strand,’ I can’t +tell now. It was some heathenish ‘land in error’s +chain,’ as the missionary hymn says. I was so +worried over losing the letter on account of the address, +for he did seem so bent on hearing from us, and he’s +a nice boy. I’d hate to loose track of him. +So I’m mighty thankful you found the pouch.”</p> + +<p>She stopped, expecting them to hand it over. Mr. Milford +made the necessary explanation. He told of Captain +Kidd finding it and bringing it home, of the two children +burying it in play and the storm sweeping away every +trace of the markers. While he told the story several +automobiles passed them and the occupants leaned out +to look at the strange group beside the road. It was +not every day one could see an old lady seated in +a rocking chair in one end of an unattached wagon with +a wild-cat in the other. These passing tourists would +have thought it stranger still, could they have known +how fate had been tangling the life threads of these +people who were in such earnest conversation, or how +it had wound them together into a queer skein of happenings.</p> + +<p>“And the only reason this compass was saved,” +concluded Mr. Milford, “was because it had the +initials ‘D. D.’ scratched on it, which +stands for this little boy’s name when he plays +pirate--Dare-devil Dick.”</p> + +<p>The motherly eyes smiled on Richard “If you +want to know the real name those letters stand for,” +she said, “it’s Dave Daniels. That’s +the name of the boy who gave it to me.”</p> + +<p>Richard looked alarmed, and even Mr. Milford turned +with a questioning glance towards Uncle Darcy, about +to say something, when the old man leaned past him +and spoke quickly, almost defiantly, as a child might +have done.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right. I don’t care +what he told you his name was. He had a good reason +for changing it. And I’m going to tell you this +much no matter what I promised. _I_ scratched +those initials on there my own self, over forty years +ago. And the boy who gave it to you _is_ +named Daniel, but it’s his first name, same as +mine. Dan’l Darcy. And the boy’s mine, +and I’ve been hunting him for ten long years, +and I’ve faith to believe that the good Lord +isn’t going to disappoint me now that I’m +this near the end of my hunt. He had a good reason +for going away from home the way he did. He’d +a good reason for changing his name as he did, but +the time has come now when it’s all right for +him to come back and,” shaking his finger solemnly +and impressively at the woman, “_I want you +to get that word back to him without fail_.”</p> + +<p>“But this is only circumstantial evidence, Uncle +Dan’l,” said Mr. Milford, soothingly. +“You haven’t any real proof that this Dave +is your Danny.”</p> + +<p>“Proof, proof,” was the excited answer. +“I tell you, man, I’ve all the proof I +need. All I ask for is the address in that letter. +I’ll find my boy quick enough.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t know,” was all the +woman could answer. “The only way in the world +to find it is to dig up that pouch.”</p> + +<p>“But even if you can’t remember the new +address tell me one of the old ones,” he pleaded. +“I’ll take a chance on writing there and +having it forwarded.”</p> + +<p>But the woman could not recall the name of a single +city. South America, Australia, New Zealand, she remembered +he had been in those countries, but that was all. +Richard, upon being cross-questioned again, “b’leeved” +the stamp was from Siam or China but couldn’t +be certain which.</p> + +<p>“Here comes Henry!” exclaimed the woman +in a relieved tone. “Maybe he’ll remember.”</p> + +<p>Henry, a tall, raw-boned man with iron-gray hair under +his Texas sombrero, in his shirt sleeves and with +his after-dinner pipe still in his mouth, came leisurely +out of the woods, leading the horses. They were already +harnessed, ready to be hitched to the wagon. He backed +them up to the tongue and snapped the chains in place +before he paused to give the strangers more than a +passing nod of greeting. Then he came around to the +side of the wagon nearest the machine, and putting +one foot up on a spoke of his front wheel, leaned +over in a listening attitude, while the whole story +was repeated for his benefit.</p> + +<p>“So you’re his father,” he said +musingly, looking at Uncle Darcy with shrewd eyes +that were used to appraising strangers.</p> + +<p>“Who ever would a thought of coming across Dave +Daniels’ tracks up here on old Cape Cod? You +look like him though. I bet at his age you were as +much alike as two peas in a pod. I never did know where +he hailed from. He was a close-mouthed chap. But I +somehow got the idea he must have been brought up +near salt water. He talked so much sailor lingo.”</p> + +<p>“Put on your thinking-cap, Henry,” demanded +his wife. “The gentlemen wants to know where +that last letter was written from, what the postmark +was, or the address inside, or what country the stamp +belonged to. And if you don’t know that, what +are some of the other places he wrote to us from?”</p> + +<p>“You’re barking up the wrong tree when +you ask _me_ any such questions,” +was the only answer he could give. “I didn’t +pay any attention to anything but the reading matter.”</p> + +<p>Questions, surmises, suggestions, everything that +could be brought up as aids to memory were of no avail. +Henry’s memory was a blank in that one important +particular. Finally, Mr. Milford took two five-dollar +gold pieces out of his pocket and a handful of small +change which he dropped into the woman’s lap +despite her protests.</p> + +<p>“We’ll square up the damage the children +did as far as possible,” he said with a laugh. +“But we can’t get the letter back until +the wind is ready to turn the dunes topsy-turvy again. +That may be in years and it may be never. Let me have +your address and if ever it is found it shall be sent +directly back to you, and the children can inherit +the money if I’m not here to claim it.”</p> + +<p>The man made a wry face at mention of his address. +“We sort of belong to what they call the floating +population now. Home with us means any old place where +Mother happens to set her rocking chair. We’ve +turned the ranch over to my daughter and her husband +while we see something of the world, and as long as +things go as smoothly as they do, we’re in no +great shakes of a hurry to get back.”</p> + +<p>“But the ranch address will always find us, +Henry,” she insisted. “Write it down for +the gentlemen. Ain’t this been a strange happening?” +she commented, as she received Mr. Milford’s +card in return with the Towncrier’s name penciled +on the back. She looked searchingly at Richard.</p> + +<p>“I remember you, now,” she said. “There +was such a pretty little girl with you--climbed up +on the wagon to touch Tim’s tail through the +bars. She had long curls and a smile that made me +want to hug her. She bought a bottle of liniment, +I remember, and I’ve thought of her a dozen times +since then, thought how a little face like that brightens +up all the world around it.”</p> + +<p>“That was Georgina Huntingdon,” volunteered +Richard.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, that’s a pretty name. Write +it down on the other side of this piece of paper, +sonny, and yours, too. Then when I go about the country +I’ll know what to call you when I think about +you. This is just like a story. If there was somebody +who knew how to write it up ’twould make a good +piece for the papers, wouldn’t it?”</p> + +<p>They were ready to start back now, since there was +no more information to be had, but on one pretext +or another Uncle Darcy delayed. He was so pitifully +eager for more news of Danny. The smallest crumb about +the way he looked, what he did and said was seized +upon hungrily, although it was news eight years old. +And he begged to hear once more just what it was Danny +had said about the Englishman, and the work they were +doing together. He could have sat there the rest of +the day listening to her repeat the same things over +and over if he had had his wish. Then she asked a +question.</p> + +<p>“Who is Belle? I mind when he was out of his +head so long with the fever he kept saying, ’_Belle_ +mustn’t suffer. No matter what happens _Belle_ +must be spared.’ I remembered because that’s +my name, and hearing it called out in the dead of +night the way a man crazy with fever would call it, +naturally makes you recollect it.”</p> + +<p>“That was just a friend of his,” answered +Uncle Darcy, “the girl who was going to marry +his chum.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” was the answer in a tone which seemed +to convey a shade of disappontment. “I thought +maybe--”</p> + +<p>She did not finish the sentence, for the engine had +begun to shake noisily, and it seemed to distract +her thoughts. And now there being really nothing more +to give them an excuse for lingering they said goodbye +to their wayside acquaintances, feeling that they were +parting from two old friends, so cordial were the +good wishes which accompanied the leave-taking.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch21-end.png"><img src="images/ch21-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_22"></a>Chapter XXII</h1> +<h2>The Rainbow Game</h2> + +<p>With her arm stiff and cramped from being held so +long in one position, Georgina waked suddenly and +looked around her in bewilderment. Uncle Darcy was +in the room, saying something about her riding home +in the machine. He didn’t want to hurry her +off, but Mr. Milford was waiting at the gate, and +it would save her a long walk home----.</p> + +<p>While he talked he was leaning over Aunt Elspeth, +patting her cheek, and she was clinging to his hand +and smiling up at him as if he had just been restored +to her after a long, long absence, instead of a separation +of only a few hours. And he looked so glad about something, +as if the nicest thing in the world had happened, +that Georgina rubbed her eyes and stared at him, wondering +what it could have been.</p> + +<p>Evidently, it was the honk of the horn which had aroused +Georgina, and when it sounded again she sprang up, +still confused by the suddenness of her awakening, +with only one thing clear in her mind, the necessity +for haste. She snatched her prism from the window +and caught up her hat as she ran through the next +room, but not until she was half-way home did she +remember that she had said nothing about the eggs and +had asked no questions about the trip to Brewster. +She had not even said good-bye.</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford nodded pleasantly when she went out to +the car, saying, “Hop in, kiddie,” but +he did not turn around after they started and she did +not feel well enough acquainted with him to shout out +questions behind his back. Besides, after they had +gone a couple of blocks he began explaining something +to Richard, who was sitting up in front of him, about +the workings of the car, and kept on explaining all +the rest of the way home. She couldn’t interrupt.</p> + +<p>Not until she climbed out in front of her own gate +with a shy “Thank you, Mr. Milford, for bringing +me home,” did she find courage and opportunity +to ask the question she longed to know.</p> + +<p>“Did you find the woman? _Was_ it +her pouch?”</p> + +<p>Mr. Milford was leaning forward in his seat to examine +something that had to do with the shifting of the +gears, and he answered while he investigated, without +looking up.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but she couldn’t remember where +the letter was from, so we’re not much wiser +than we were before, except that we know for a certainty +that Dan was alive and well less than two months ago. +At least Uncle Dan’l believes it is Dan. The +woman calls him Dave, but Uncle Dan’l vows they’re +one and the same.”</p> + +<p>Having adjusted the difficulty, Mr. Milford, with +a good-bye nod to Georgina, started on down the street +again. Georgina stood looking after the rapidly disappearing +car.</p> + +<p>“Well, no wonder Uncle Darcy looked so happy,” +she thought, recalling his radiant face. “It +was knowing that Danny is alive and well that made +it shine so. I wish I’d been along. Wish I could +have heard every thing each one of them said. I could +have remembered every single word to tell Richard, +but he won’t remember even half to tell me.”</p> + +<p>It was in the pursuit of all the information which +could be pumped out of Richard that Georgina sought +the Green Stairs soon after breakfast next morning. +Incidentally, she was on her way to a nearby grocery +and had been told to hurry. She ran all the way down +in order to gain a few extra moments in which to loiter. +As usual at this time of morning, Richard was romping +over the terraces with Captain Kidd.</p> + +<p>“Hi, Georgina,” he called, as he spied +her coming. “I’ve got a new game. A new +way to play tag. Look.”</p> + +<p>Plunging down the steps he held out for her inspection +a crystal paperweight which he had picked up from +the library table. Its round surface had been cut +into many facets, as a diamond is cut to make it flash +the light, and the spots of color it threw as he turned +it in the sun were rainbow-hued.</p> + +<p>“See,” he explained. “Instead of +tagging Captain Kidd with my hand I touch him with +a rainbow, and it’s lots harder to do because +you can’t always make it light where you want +it to go, or where you think it is going to fall. +I’ve only tagged him twice so far in all the +time I’ve been trying, because he bobs around +so fast. Come on, I’ll get you before you tag +me,” he added, seeing that her prism hung from +the ribbon on her neck.</p> + +<p>She did not wear it every day, but she had felt an +especial need for its comforting this morning, and +had put it on as she slowly dressed. The difficulty +of restoring the eggs loomed up in front of her as +a real trouble, and she needed this to remind her +to keep on hoping that some way would soon turn up +to end it.</p> + +<p>It was a fascinating game. Such tags are elusive, +uncertain things. The pursuer can never be certain +of touching the pursued. Georgina entered into it, +alert and glowing, darting this way and that to escape +being touched by the spots of vivid color. Her prism +threw it in bars, Richard’s in tiny squares +and triangles.</p> + +<p>“Let’s make them fight!” Richard +exclaimed in the midst of it, and for a few moments +the color spots flashed across each other like flocks +of darting birds. Suddenly Georgina stopped, saying:</p> + +<p>“Oh, I forgot. I’m on my way to the grocery, +and I must hurry back. But I wanted to ask you two +things. One was, tell me all about what the woman +said yesterday, and the other was, think of some way +for me to earn twenty cents. There isn’t time +to hear about the first one now, but think right quick +and answer the second question.”</p> + +<p>She started down the street, skipping backwards slowly, +and Richard walked after her.</p> + +<p>“Aw, I don’t know,” he answered +in a vague way. “At home when we wanted to make +money we always gave a show and charged a penny to +get in, or we kept a lemonade stand; but we don’t +know enough kids here to make that pay.”</p> + +<p>Then he looked out over the water and made a suggestion +at random. A boy going along the beach towards one +of the summer cottages with a pail in his hand, made +him think of it.</p> + +<p>“Pick blueberries and sell them.”</p> + +<p>“I thought of that,” answered Georgina, +still progressing towards the grocery backward. “And +it would be a good time now to slip away while Tippy’s +busy with the Bazaar. This is the third day. But they’ve +done so well they’re going to keep on with it +another day, and they’ve thought up a lot of +new things to-morrow to draw a crowd. One of them is +a kind of talking tableau. I’m to be in it, +so it wouldn’t do for me to go and get my hands +all stained with berries when I’m to be dressed +up as a part of the show for the whole town to come +and take a look at me.”</p> + +<p>Richard had no more suggestions to offer, so with +one more flash of the prism and a cry of “last +tag,” Georgina turned and started on a run to +the grocery. Richard and the paperweight followed in +hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>Up at one of the front windows of the bungalow, two +interested spectators had been watching the game below. +One was Richard’s father, the other was a new +guest of Mr. Milford’s who had arrived only the +night before. He was the Mr. Locke who was to take +Richard and his father and Cousin James away on his +yacht next morning. He was also a famous illustrator +of juvenile books, and he sometimes wrote the rhymes +and fairy tales himself which he illustrated. Everybody +in this town of artists who knew anything at all of +the world of books and pictures outside, knew of Milford +Norris Locke. Now as he watched the graceful passes +of the two children darting back and forth on the +board-walk below, he asked:</p> + +<p>“Who’s the little girl, Moreland? She’s +the child of my dreams--the very one I’ve been +hunting for weeks. She has not only the sparkle and +spirit that I want to put into those pictures I was +telling you about, but the grace and the curls and +the mischievous eyes as well. Reckon I could get her +to pose for me?”</p> + +<p>That is how it came about that Georgina found Richard’s +father waiting for her at the foot of the Green Stairs +when she came running back from the grocery. When +she went home a few minutes later, she carried with +her something more than the cake of sweet chocolate +that Tippy had sent her for in such a hurry. It was +the flattering knowledge that a famous illustrator +had asked to make a sketch of her which would be published +in a book if it turned out to be a good one.</p> + +<p>With a sailing party and a studio reception and several +other engagements to fill up his one day in Provincetown, +Mr. Locke could give only a part of the morning to +the sketches, and wanted to begin as soon as possible. +So a few minutes after Georgina went dancing in with +the news, he followed in Mr. Milford’s machine. +He arrived so soon after, in fact, that Tippy had +to receive him just as she was in her gingham house +dress and apron.</p> + +<p>After looking all over the place he took Georgina +down to the garden and posed her on a stone bench +near the sun-dial, at the end of a tall, bright aisle +of hollyhocks. There was no time to waste.</p> + +<p>“We’ll pretend you’re sitting on +the stone rim of a great fountain in the King’s +garden,” he said. “You’re trying +to find some trace of the beautiful Princess who has +been bewitched and carried away to a castle under +the sea, that had ‘a ceiling of amber, a pavement +of pearl.’”</p> + +<p>Georgina looked up, delighted that he had used a line +from a poem she loved. It made her feel as if he were +an old friend.</p> + +<p>“This is for a fairy tale that has just begun +to hatch itself out in my mind, so you see it isn’t +all quite clear yet. There’ll be lily pads in +the fountain. Maybe you can hear what they are saying, +or maybe the gold-fish will bring you a message, +because you are a little mortal who has such a kind +heart that you have been given the power to understand +the speech of everything which creeps or swims or +flies.”</p> + +<p>Georgina leaned over and looked into the imaginary +fountain dubiously, forgetting in her interest of +the moment that her companion was the great Milford +Norris Locke. She was entering with him into the spirit +of his game of “pretend” as if he were +Richard.</p> + +<p>“No, I’ll tell you,” she suggested. +“Have it a frog instead of a fish that brings +the message. He can jump right out of that lily pad +on to the edge of the fountain where I am sitting, +and then when you look at the picture you can see +us talking together. No one could tell what I was +doing if they saw me just looking down into the fountain, +but they could tell right away if the frog was here +and I was shaking my finger at him as if I were saying:</p> + +<p>“’Now tell me the truth, Mr. Frog, or +the Ogre of the Oozy Marsh shall eat you ere the day +be done.’”</p> + +<p>“Don’t move. Don’t move!” +called Mr. Locke, excitedly. “Ah, that’s +perfect. That’s exactly what I want. Hold that +pose for a moment or two. Why, Georgina, you’ve +given me exactly what I wanted and a splendid idea +besides. It will give the fairy tale an entirely new +turn. If you can only hold that position a bit longer, +then you may rest.”</p> + +<p>His pencil flew with magical rapidity and as he sketched +he kept on talking in order to hold the look of intense +interest which showed in her glowing face.</p> + +<p>“I dearly love stories like that,” sighed +Georgina when he came to the end and told her to lean +back and rest a while.</p> + +<p>“Barby--I mean my mother--and I act them all +the time, and sometimes we make them up ourselves.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’ll write them when you grow +up,” suggested Mr. Locke not losing a moment, +but sketching her in the position she had taken of +her own accord.</p> + +<p>“Maybe I shall,” exclaimed Georgina, thrilled +by the thought. “My grandfather Shirley said +I could write for his paper some day. You know he’s +an editor, down in Kentucky. I’d like to be the +editor of a magazine that children would adore the +way I do the _St. Nicholas_.”</p> + +<p>Tippy would have said that Georgina was “run-ning +on.” But Mr. Locke did not think so. Children +always opened their hearts to him. He held the magic +key. Georgina found it easier to tell him her inmost +feelings than anybody else in the world but Barby.</p> + +<p>“That’s a beautiful game you and Dicky +were playing this morning,” he remarked presently, +“tagging each other with rainbows. I believe +I’ll put it into this fairy tale, have the water-nixies +do it as they slide over the water-fall.”</p> + +<p>“But it isn’t half as nice as the game +we play in earnest,” she assured him. “In +our Rainbow Club we have a sort of game of tag. We +tag a person with a good time, or some kindness to +make them happy, and we pretend that makes a little +rainbow in the world. Do you think it does?”</p> + +<p>“It makes a very real one, I am sure,” +was the serious answer. “Have you many members?”</p> + +<p>“Just Richard and me and the bank president, +Mr. Gates, so far, but--but you can belong--if you’d +like to.”</p> + +<p>She hesitated a trifle over the last part of her invitation, +having just remembered what a famous man she was talking +to. He might think she was taking a liberty even to +suggest that he might care to belong.</p> + +<p>“I’d like it very much,” he assured +her gravely, “if you think I can live up to +the requirements.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you already have,” she cried. “Think +of all the happy hours you have made for people with +your books and pictures--just swarms and bevies and +_flocks_ of rainbows! We would have put you +on the list of honorary members anyhow. Those are +the members who don’t know they are members,” +she explained. “They’re just like the prisms +themselves. Prisms don’t know they are prisms +but everybody who looks at them sees the beautiful +places they make in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Georgina,” he said solemnly, “that +is the very loveliest thing that was ever said to +me in all my life. Make me club member number four +and I’ll play the game to my very best ability. +I’ll try to do some tagging really worth while.”</p> + +<p>He had been sketching constantly all the time he talked, +and now, impelled by curiosity, Georgina got up from +the stone bench and walked over to take a look at +his work. He had laid aside the several outline studies +he had made of her, and was now exercising his imagination +in sketching a ship.</p> + +<p>“This is to be the one that brings the Princess +home, and in a minute I want you to pose for the Princess, +for she is to have curls, long, golden ones, and she +is to hold her head as you did a few moments ago when +you were talking about looking off to sea.”</p> + +<p>Georgina brought her hands together in a quick gesture +as she said imploringly, “Oh, _do_ +put Hope at the prow. Every time I pass the Figurehead +House and see Hope sitting up on the portico roof I +wish I could see how she looked when she was riding +the waves on the prow of a gallant vessel. That’s +where she ought to be, I heard a man say. He said +Hope squatting on a portico roof may look ridiculous, +but Hope breasting the billows is superb.”</p> + +<p><a href="images/image06.png"><img src="images/image06.png" align="left" alt="Coming across a Sea of Dreams" /></a>Mr. Locke was no stranger in the town. He knew the +story of the figurehead as the townspeople knew it, +now he heard its message as Uncle Darcy knew it. He +listened as intently to Georgina as she had listened +to him. At the end he lifted his head, peering fixedly +through half-closed eyes at nothing.</p> + +<p>“You have made me see the most beautiful ship,” +he said, musingly. “It is a silver shallop coming +across a sea of Dreams, its silken sails set wide, +and at the prow is an angel. ’White-handed Hope, +thou hovering angel girt with golden wings,’” +he quoted. “Yes, I’ll make it with golden +wings sweeping back over the sides this way. See?”</p> + +<p>His pencil flew over the paper again, showing her +in a few swift strokes an outline of the vision she +had given him. And now Tippy would have said not +only that Georgina was “running on,” but +that she was “wound up,” for with such +a sympathetic and appreciative listener, she told him +the many things she would have taken to Barby had she +been at home. Especially, she talked about her difficulties +in living up to the aim of the club. In stories there +are always poor people whom one can benefit; patient +sufferers at hospitals, pallid children of the slums. +But in the range of Georgina’s life there seemed +to be so few opportunities and those few did not always +turn out the way they should.</p> + +<p>For instance, there was the time she tried to cheer +Tippy up with her “line to live by,” and +her efforts were neither appreciated nor understood. +And there was the time only yesterday when she stayed +with Aunt Elspeth, and got into trouble with the eggs, +and now had a debt on her conscience equal to eight +eggs or twenty cents.</p> + +<p>It showed how well Mr. Locke understood children when +he did not laugh over the recital of that last calamity, +although it sounded unspeakably funny to him as Georgina +told it. In such congenial company the time flew so +fast that Georgina was amazed when Mr. Milford drove +up to take his distinguished guest away. Mr. Locke +took with him what he had hoped to get, a number of +sketches to fill in at his leisure.</p> + +<p>“They’re exactly what I wanted,” +he assured her gratefully as he shook hands at parting. +“And that suggestion of yours for the ship will +make the most fetching illustration of all. I’ll +send you a copy in oils when I get time for it, and +I’ll always think of you, my little friend, as +_Georgina of the Rainbows_.”</p> + +<p>With a courtly bow he was gone, and Georgina went +into the house to look for the little blank book in +which she had started to keep her two lists of Club +members, honorary and real. The name of Milford Norris +Locke she wrote in both lists. If there had been a +third list, she would have written him down in that +as the very nicest gentleman she had ever met. Then +she began a letter to Barby, telling all about her +wonderful morning. But it seemed to her she had barely +begun, when Mr. Milford’s chauffeur came driving +back with something for her in a paper bag. When she +peeped inside she was so astonished she nearly dropped +it.</p> + +<p>“Eggs!” she exclaimed. Then in unconscious +imitation of Mrs. Saggs, she added, “Can you +beat _that_!”</p> + +<p>One by one she took them out and counted them. There +were exactly eight. Then she read the card which had +dropped down to the bottom of the bag.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Milford Norris Locke.”</p> + +<p>Above the name was a tiny rainbow done in water colors, +and below was scribbled the words, “Last tag.”</p> + +<p>It was a pity that the new member could not have seen +her face at that instant, its expression was so eloquent +of surprise, of pleasure and of relief that her trouble +had thus been wiped out of existence.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_23"></a>Chapter XXIII</h1> +<h2>Light Dawns for Uncle Darcy</h2> + +<p>For some time the faint jangle of a bell had been +sounding at intervals far down the street. Ordinarily +it would have caught Georgina’s attention long +before this, but absorbed in the letter to which she +had returned after putting the eggs down cellar, she +did not hear the ringing until it was near enough +for the Towncrier’s message to be audible also. +He was announcing the extra day of the Bazaar, and +calling attention to the many new attractions it would +have to offer on the morrow.</p> + +<p>Instantly, Georgina dropped her pencil and flew out +to meet him. Here was an opportunity to find out all +about the Brewster trip. As he came towards her she +saw the same look in his weather-beaten old face which +she had wondered at the day before, when he was bending +over Aunt Elspeth, patting her on the cheek. It was +like the shining of a newly-lighted candle.</p> + +<p>She was not the only one who had noticed it. All the +way up the street glances had followed him. People +turned for a second look, wondering what good fortune +had befallen the old fellow. They had come to expect +a cheery greeting from him. He always left a kindly +glow behind him whenever he passed. But to-day the +cheeriness was so intensified that he seemed to be +brimming over with good will to everybody.</p> + +<p>“Why, Uncle Darcy!” cried Georgina. “You +look so happy!”</p> + +<p>“Well, is it any wonder, lass, with such news +from Danny? Him alive and well and sure to come back +to me some of these days! I could hardly keep from +shouting it out to everybody as I came along the street. +I’m afraid it’ll just naturally tell itself +some day, in spite of my promise to Belle. I’m +glad I can let off steam up here, you knowing the secret, +too, for this old heart of mine is just about to burst +with all the gladness that’s inside of me.”</p> + +<p>Here was someone as anxious to tell as she was to +hear; someone who could recall every word of the interview +with the wild-cat woman. Georgina swung on to his +arm which held the bell, and began to ask questions, +and nothing loath, he let her lead him into the yard +and to the rustic seat running around the trunk of +the big willow tree. He was ready to rest, now that +his route was traveled and his dollar earned.</p> + +<p>Belle, back in the kitchen, preparing a light dinner +for herself and Georgina, Tippy being away for the +day, did not see him come in. She had not seen him +since the day the old rifle gave up its secret, and +she tried to put him out of her mind as much as possible, +for she was miserable every time she thought of him. +She would have been still more miserable could she +have heard all that he was saying to Georgina.</p> + +<p>“Jimmy Milford thought that the liniment folks +calling the boy ‘Dave,’ proved that he +wasn’t the same as my Danny. But just one thing +would have settled all doubts for me if I’d +a had any. That was what he kept a calling in his +fever when he was out of his head: ’Belle mustn’t +suffer. Belle must be spared, no matter what happens!’</p> + +<p>“And that’s the one thing that reconciles +me to keeping still a while longer. It was his wish +to spare her, and if he could sacrifice so much to +do it, I can’t make his sacrifice seem in vain. +I lay awake last night till nearly daylight, thinking +how I’d like to take this old bell of mine, +and go from one end of the town to the other, ringing +it till it cracked, crying out, _’Danny +is innocent,_’ to the whole world. But +the time hasn’t come yet. I’ll have to +be patient a while longer and bear up the best I can.”</p> + +<p>Georgina, gazing fixedly ahead of her at nothing in +particular, pondered seriously for a long, silent +moment.</p> + +<p>“If you did that,” she said finally, “cried +the good news through the town till everybody knew--then +when people found out that it was Emmett Potter who +was the thief and that he was too much of a coward +to own up and take the blame--would they let the monument +go on standing there, that they’d put up to +show he was brave? It would serve him right if they +took it down, wouldn’t it!” she exclaimed +with a savage little scowl drawing her brows together.</p> + +<p>“No, no, child!” he said gently. “Give +the lad his due. He _was_ brave that one +time. He saved all those lives as it is chiseled on +his headstone. It is better he should be remembered +for the best act in his life than for the worst one. +A man’s measure should be taken when he’s +stretched up to his full height, just as far as he +can lift up his head; not when he’s stooped +to the lowest. It’s only fair to judge either +the living or the dead that way.”</p> + +<p>For some time after that nothing more was said. The +harbor was full of boats this morning. It was a sight +worth watching. One naturally drifted into day-dreams, +following the sweep of the sails moving silently toward +the far horizon. Georgina was busy picturing a home-coming +scene that made the prodigal son’s welcome seem +mild in comparison, when Uncle Darcy startled her +by exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“Oh, it _pays_ to bear up and steer +right onward! S’pose I hadn’t done that. +S’pose I _hadn’t_ kept Hope at +the prow. I believe I’d have been in my grave +by this time with all the grief and worry. But now----”</p> + +<p>He stopped and shook his head, unable to find words +to express the emotion which was making his voice +tremble and his face glow with that wonderful inner +shining. Georgina finished the sentence for him, looking +out on the sail-filled harbor and thinking of the day +he had taken her out in his boat to tell her of his +son.</p> + +<p>“But now you’ll be all ready and waiting +when your ship comes home from sea with its precious +cargo.” They were his own words she was repeating.</p> + +<p>“Danny’ll weather the storms at last and +come into port with all flags flying.”</p> + +<p>The picture her words suggested was too much for the +old father. He put his hat up in front of his face, +and his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Georgina +laid a sympathetic little hand on the rough sleeve +next her. Suddenly the sails in the harbor seemed +to run together all blurry and queer. She drew her +hand across her eyes and looked again at the heaving +shoulders. A happiness so deep that it found its expression +that way, filled her with awe. It must be the kind +of happiness that people felt when they reached “the +shining shore, the other side, of Jordan,” and +their loved ones came down to welcome them “into +their desired haven.”</p> + +<p>That last phrase came to her lips like a bit of remembered +music and unconsciously she repeated it aloud. Uncle +Darcy heard it, and looked up. His cheeks were wet +when he put down his hat, but it was the happiest +face she had ever seen, and there was no shake in his +voice now when he said solemnly:</p> + +<p>“And nobody but the good Lord who’s helped +his poor sailors through shipwreck and storm, knows +how mightily they’ve desired that haven, or +what it means to them to be brought into it.”</p> + +<p>A delivery wagon from one of the fruit stores stopped +in front of the gate, and the driver came in, carrying +a basket. Uncle Darcy spoke to him as he passed the +willow tree.</p> + +<p>“Well, Joe, this looks like a chance for me +to get a lift most of the way home.”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” was the cordial reply. “Climb +in. I’ll be right back.”</p> + +<p>Georgina thought of something as he rose to go.</p> + +<p>“Oh, wait just a minute, Uncle Darcy, I want +to get something of yours that’s down cellar.”</p> + +<p>When she came back there was no time or opportunity +for an explanation. He and the driver were both in +the wagon. She reached up and put the bag on the seat +beside him.</p> + +<p>“I--I did something to some of your eggs, yesterday,” +she stammered, “and these are to take the place +of the ones I broke.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy peered into the bag with a puzzled expression. +He had not missed any eggs from the crock of bran. +He didn’t know what she was talking about. But +before he could ask any questions the driver slapped +the horse with the reins, and they were rattling off +down street. Georgina stood looking after them a moment, +then turned her head to listen. Somebody was calling +her. It was Belle, who had come to the front door +to say that dinner was ready.</p> + +<p>Whenever Mrs. Triplett was at home, Belle made extra +efforts to talk and appear interested in what was +going on around her. She was afraid her keen-eyed +Aunt Maria would see that she was unhappy. But alone +with Georgina who shared her secret, she relapsed +into a silence so deep it could be felt, responding +only with a wan smile when the child’s lively +chatter seemed to force an answer of some kind. But +to-day when Georgina came to the table she was strangely +silent herself, so mute that Belle noticed it, and +found that she was being furtively watched by the big +brown eyes opposite her. Every time Belle looked up +she caught Georgina’s gaze fastened on her, +and each time it was immediately transferred to her +plate.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Georgina?” she +asked finally. “Why do you keep staring at me?”</p> + +<p>Georgina flushed guiltily. “Nothing,” +was the embarrassed answer. “I was just wondering +whether to tell you or not. I thought maybe you’d +like to know, and maybe you ought to know, but I wasn’t +sure whether you’d want me to talk to you about +it or not.”</p> + +<p>Belle put down her tea-cup. It was her turn to stare.</p> + +<p>“For goodness’ sake! What _are_ +you beating around the bush about?”</p> + +<p>“About the news from Danny,” answered +Georgina. “About the letter he wrote to the +wild-cat woman and that got buried in the dunes too +deep ever to be dug up again.”</p> + +<p>As this was the first Belle had heard of either the +letter or the woman, her expression of astonishment +was all that Georgina could desire. Her news had made +a sensation. Belle showed plainly that she was startled, +and as eager to hear as Georgina was to tell. So she +began at the beginning, from the time of the opening +of the pouch on the Green Stairs, to the last word +of the wild-cat woman’s conversation which Uncle +Darcy had repeated to her only a few moments before +under the willow.</p> + +<p>Instinctively, she gave the recital a dramatic touch +which made Belle feel almost like an eye witness as +she listened. And it was with Uncle Darcy’s +own gestures and manner that she repeated his final +statement.</p> + +<p>“Jimmy Milford thought the liniment folks calling +the boy Dave proved he wasn’t the same as my +Danny. But just one thing would have settled all doubts +for me if I’d had any. That was what he kept +a calling in his fever when he was out of his head: +’_Belle_ mustn’t suffer. _Belle_ +must be spared no matter what happens.’”</p> + +<p>At the bringing of her own name into the story Belle +gave a perceptible start and a tinge of red crept +into her pale cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Did he say that, Georgina?” she demanded, +leaning forward and looking at her intently. “Are +you sure those are his exact words?”</p> + +<p>“His very-own-exactly-the-same words,” +declared Georgina solemnly. “I cross my heart +and body they’re just as Uncle Darcy told them +to me.”</p> + +<p>Rising from the table, Belle walked over to the window +and stood with her back to Georgina, looking out into +the garden.</p> + +<p>“Well, and what next?” she demanded in +a queer, breathless sort of way.</p> + +<p>“And then Uncle Darcy said that his saying that +was the one thing that made him feel willing to keep +still a while longer about--you know--what was in +the rifle. ’Cause if Danny cared enough about +sparing you to give up home and his good name and +everything else in life he couldn’t spoil it +all by telling now. But Uncle Darcy said he lay awake +nearly all last night thinking how he’d love +to take that old bell of his and go ringing it through +the town till it cracked, calling out to the world, +’My boy is innocent.’</p> + +<p>“And when I said something about it’s +all coming out all right some day, and that Danny +would weather the storms and come into port with all +flags flying----” Here Georgina lowered her +voice and went on slowly as if she hesitated to speak +of what happened next--“he just put his old hat +over his face and cried. And I felt so sorry----”</p> + +<p>Georgina’s voice choked. There were tears in +her eyes as she spoke of the scene.</p> + +<p>“_Don’t_!” groaned Belle, +her back still turned.</p> + +<p>The note of distress in Belle’s voice stilled +Georgina’s lively tongue a few seconds, but +there was one more thing in her mind to be said, and +with the persistence of a mosquito she returned to +the subject to give that final stab, quite unconscious +of how deeply it would sting. She was only wondering +aloud, something which she had often wondered to herself.</p> + +<p>“I should think that when anybody had suffered +as long as Danny has to spare you, it would make you +want to spare him. Doesn’t it? I should think +that you’d want to do something to sort of make +up to him for it all. Don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, _don’t_!” exclaimed +Belle again, sharply this time. Then to Georgina’s +utter amazement she buried her face in her apron, stood +sobbing by the window a moment, and ran out of the +room. She did not come downstairs again until nearly +supper time.</p> + +<p>Georgina sat at the table, not knowing what to do +next. She felt that she had muddled things dreadfully. +Instead of making Belle feel better as she hoped to +do, she realized she had hurt her in some unintentional +way. Presently, she slowly drew herself up from her +chair and began to clear the table, piling the few +dishes they had used, under the dish-pan in the sink. +The house stood open to the summer breeze. It seemed +so desolate and deserted with Belle upstairs, drawn +in alone with her troubles and Tippy away, that she +couldn’t bear to stay in the silent rooms. She +wandered out into the yard and climbed up into the +willow to look across the water.</p> + +<p>Somewhere out there on those shining waves, Richard +was sailing along, in the party given for Mr. Locke, +and to-morrow he would be going away on the yacht. +If he were at home she wouldn’t be up in the +willow wondering what to do next. Well, as long as +she couldn’t have a good time herself she’d +think of someone else she could make happy. For several +minutes she sent her thoughts wandering over the list +of all the people she knew, but it seemed as if her +friends were capable of making their own good times, +all except poor Belle. Probably _she_ never +would be happy again, no matter what anybody did to +try to brighten her life. It was so discouraging when +one was trying to play the game of “Rainbow Tag,” +for there to be no one to tag. She wished she knew +some needy person, some unfortunate soul who would +be glad of her efforts to make them happy.</p> + +<p>Once she thought of slipping off down street to the +library. Miss Tupman always let her go in where the +shelves were and choose her own book. Miss Tupman +was always so interesting, too, more than any of the +books when she had time to talk. But that grim old +word Duty rose up in front of her, telling her that +she ought not to run away and leave the house all +open with Belle locked in her room upstairs. Somebody +ought to be within hearing if the telephone rang or +anyone came. She went into the house for a book which +she had read many times but which never failed to interest +her, and curled up in a big rocking chair on the front +porch.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon she smelled burning pine chips +and smoke from the kitchen chimney which told that +a fire was being started in the stove. After a while +she went around the house to the kitchen door and peeped +in, apprehensively. Belle was piling the dinner dishes +into the pan, preparatory to washing them while supper +was cooking. Her eyes were red and she did not look +up when Georgina came in, but there was an air of +silent determination about her as forcible as her Aunt +Maria’s. Picking up the tea-kettle, she filled +the dishpan and carried the kettle back to the stove, +setting it down hard before she spoke. Then she said:</p> + +<p>“Nobody’ll ever know what I’ve been +through with, fighting this thing out with myself. +I can’t go all the way yet. I can’t say +the word that’ll let the blow fall on poor old +Father Potter. But I don’t seem to care about +my part of it any more. I see things differently from +what I did that first day--you know. Even Emmett don’t +seem the same any more.”</p> + +<p>For several minutes there was a rattling of dishes, +but no further speech from Belle. Georgina, not knowing +what to say or do, stood poised uncertainly on the +door-sill. Then Belle spoke again.</p> + +<p>“I’m willing it should be told if only +it could be kept from getting back to Father Potter, +for the way Dan’s done _does_ make +me want to set him square with the world. I would +like to make up to him in some way for all he’s +suffered on my account. I can’t get over it that +it was _him_ that had all the bravery and +the nobleness that I was fairly worshiping in Emmett +all these years. Seems like the whole world has turned +upside down.”</p> + +<p>Georgina waited a long time, but Belle seemed to have +said all that she intended to say, so presently she +walked over and stood beside the sink.</p> + +<p>“Belle,” she said slowly, “does +what you said mean that you’re really willing +I should tell Barby? Right away?”</p> + +<p>Belle waited an instant before replying, then taking +a deep breath as if about to make a desperate plunge +into a chasm on whose brink she had long been poised, +said:</p> + +<p>“Yes. Uncle Dan’l would rather have her +know than anybody else. He sets such store by her +good opinion. But oh, _do_ make it plain +it mustn’t be talked about outside, so’s +it’ll get back to Father Potter.”</p> + +<p>The next instant Georgina’s arms were around +her in a silent but joyful squeeze, and she ran upstairs +to write to Barby before the sun should go down or +Tippy get back from the Bazaar.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch23-end.png"><img src="images/ch23-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_24"></a>Chapter XXIV</h1> +<h2>A Contrast in Fathers</h2> + +<p>Georgina was having a beautiful day. It was the first +time she had ever taken part in a Bazaar, and so important +was the rôle assigned her that she was in a booth +all by herself. Moreover, the little mahogany chair +in which she sat was on a high platform inside the +booth, so that all might behold her. Dressed in a +quaint old costume borrowed from the chests in the +Figurehead House, she represented “A Little Girl +of Long Ago.”</p> + +<p>On a table beside her stood other borrowed treasures +from the Figurehead House--a doll bedstead made by +an old sea captain on one of his voyages. Each of +its high posts was tipped with a white point, carved +from the bone of a whale. Wonderful little patchwork +quilts, a feather bed and tiny pillows made especially +for the bed, were objects of interest to everyone +who crowded around the booth. So were the toys and +dishes brought home from other long cruises by the +same old sea captain, who evidently was an indulgent +father and thought often of the little daughter left +behind in the home port. A row of dolls dressed in +fashions half a century old were also on exhibition.</p> + +<p>With unfailing politeness Georgina explained to the +curious summer people who thronged around her, that +they all belonged in the house where the figurehead +of Hope sat on the portico roof, and were not for sale +at any price.</p> + +<p>Until to-day Georgina had been unconscious that she +possessed any unusual personal charms, except her +curls. Her attention had been called to them from +the time she was old enough to understand remarks people +made about them as she passed along the street. Their +beauty would have been a great pleasure to her if +Tippy had not impressed upon her the fact that looking +in the mirror makes one vain, and it’s wicked +to be vain. One way in which Tippy guarded her against +the sin of vanity was to mention some of her bad points, +such as her mouth being a trifle too large, or her +nose not quite so shapely as her mother’s, each +time anyone unwisely called attention to her “glorious +hair.”</p> + +<p>Another way was to repeat a poem from a book called +“Songs for the Little Ones at Home,” the +same book which had furnished the “Landing of +the Pilgrims” and “Try, Try Again.” +It began:</p> + +<blockquote>“What! Looking in the glass again?<br /> +Why’s my silly child so vain?"</blockquote> + +<p>The disgust, the surprise, the scorn of Tippy’s +voice when she repeated that was enough to make one +hurry past a mirror in shame-faced embarrassment.</p> + +<blockquote>“Beauty soon will fade away.<br /> +Your rosy cheeks must soon decay.<br /> +There’s nothing lasting you will find,<br /> +But the treasures of the mind.”</blockquote> + +<p>Rosy cheeks might not be lasting, but it was certainly +pleasant to Georgina to hear them complimented so +continually by passers-by. Sometimes the remarks were +addressed directly to her.</p> + +<p>“My _dear_,” said one enthusiastic +admirer, “if I could only buy _you_ +and put you in a gold frame, I’d have a prettier +picture than any artist in town can paint.” +Then she turned to a companion to add: “Isn’t +she a love in that little poke bonnet with the row +of rose-buds inside the rim? I never saw such exquisite +coloring or such gorgeous eyes.”</p> + +<p>Georgina blushed and looked confused as she smoothed +the long lace mitts over her arms. But by the time +the day was over she had heard the sentiment repeated +so many times that she began to expect it and to feel +vaguely disappointed if it were not forthcoming from +each new group which approached her.</p> + +<p>Another thing gave her a new sense of pleasure and +enriched her day. On the table beside her, under a +glass case, to protect it from careless handling, +was a little blank book which contained the records +of the first sewing circle in Provincetown. The book +lay open, displaying a page of the minutes, and a +column of names of members, written in an exquisitely +fine and beautiful hand. The name of Georgina’s +great-great grandmother was in that column. It gave +her a feeling of being well born and distinguished +to be able to point it out.</p> + +<p>The little book seemed to reinforce and emphasize +the claims of the monument and the silver porringer. +She felt it was so nice to be beautiful and to belong; +to have belonged from the beginning both to a first +family and a first sewing circle.</p> + +<p>Still another thing added to her contentment whenever +the recollection of it came to her. There was no longer +any secret looming up between her and Barby like a +dreadful wall. The letter telling all about the wonderful +and exciting things which had happened in her absence +was already on its way to Kentucky. It was not a letter +to be proud of. It was scrawled as fast as she could +write it with a pencil, and she knew perfectly well +that a dozen or more words were misspelled, but she +couldn’t take time to correct them, or to think +of easy words to put in their places. But Barby wouldn’t +care. She would be so happy for Uncle Darcy’s +sake and so interested in knowing that her own little +daughter had had an important part in finding the +good news that she wouldn’t notice the spelling +or the scraggly writing.</p> + +<p>As the day wore on, Georgina, growing more and more +satisfied with herself and her lot, felt that there +was no one in the whole world with whom she would +change places. Towards the last of the afternoon a +group of people came in whom Georgina recognized as +a family from the Gray Inn. They had been at the Inn +several days, and she had noticed them each time she +passed them, because the children seemed on such surprisingly +intimate terms with their father. That he was a naval +officer she knew from the way he dressed, and that +he was on a long furlough she knew from some remark +which she overheard.</p> + +<p>He had a grave, stern face, and when he came into +the room he gave a searching glance from left to right +as if to take notice of every object in it. His manner +made Georgina think of “Casabianca,” another +poem of Tippy’s teaching:</p> + +<blockquote>“He stood<br /> +As born to rule the storm.<br /> +A creature of heroic blood,<br /> +A brave though ....... form.”</blockquote> + +<p>“Childlike” was the word she left out +because it did not fit in this case. “A brave +and manlike form” would be better. She repeated +the verse to herself with this alteration.</p> + +<p>When he spoke to his little daughter or she spoke +to him his expression changed so wonderfully that +Georgina watched him with deep interest. The oldest +boy was with them. He was about fourteen and as tall +as his mother. He was walking beside her but every +few steps he turned to say something to the others, +and they seemed to be enjoying some joke together. +Somebody who knew them came up as they reached the +booth of “The Little Girl of Long Ago,” +and introduced them to Georgina, so she found out +their names. It was Burrell. He was a Captain, and +the children were Peggy and Bailey.</p> + +<p>As Georgina looked down at Peggy from the little platform +where she sat in the old mahogany chair, she thought +with a throb of satisfaction that she was glad she +didn’t have to change places with that homely +little thing. Evidently, Peggy was just up from a +severe illness. Her hair had been cut so short one +could scarcely tell the color of it. She was so thin +and white that her eyes looked too large for her face +and her neck too slender for her head, and the freckles +which would scarcely have shown had she been her usual +rosy self, stood out like big brown spotches on her +pallid little face. She limped a trifle too, as she +walked.</p> + +<p>With a satisfied consciousness of her own rose leaf +complexion, Georgina was almost patronizing as she +bent over the table to say graciously once more after +countless number of times, “no, that is not for +sale.”</p> + +<p>The next instant Peggy was swinging on her father’s +arm exclaiming, “Oh, Dad-o’-my-heart! +See that cunning doll bathing suit. Please get it for +me.” Almost in the same breath Bailey, jogging +the Captain’s elbow on the other side, exclaimed, +“Look, Partner, _that’s<i> a relic +worth having.”_</p> + +<p>Georgina listened, fascinated. To think of calling +one’s father “Dad-o’- my-heart” +or “Partner!” And they looked up at him +as if they adored him, even that big boy, nearly grown. +And a sort of laugh come into the Captain’s +eyes each time they spoke to him, as if he thought +everything they said and did was perfect.</p> + +<p>A wave of loneliness swept over Georgina as she listened. +There was an empty spot in her heart that ached with +longing--not for Barby, but for the father whom she +had never known in this sweet intimate way. She knew +now how if felt to be an orphan. What satisfaction +was there in having beautiful curls if no big, kind +hand ever passed over them in a fatherly caress such +as was passing over Peggy Burrell’s closely-clipped +head? What pleasure was there in having people praise +you if they said behind your back:</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s Justin Huntingdon’s +daughter. Don’t you think a man would want to +come home once or twice in a lifetime to such a lovely +child as that?”</p> + +<p>Georgina had heard that very remark earlier in the +day, also the answer given with a significant shrug +of the shoulders:</p> + +<p>“Oh, he has other fish to fry.”</p> + +<p>The remarks had not annoyed her especially at the +time, but they rankled now as she recalled them. They +hurt until they took all the pleasure and satisfaction +out of her beautiful day, just as the sun, going under +a cloud, leaves the world bereft of all its shine +and sparkle. She looked around, wishing it were time +to go home.</p> + +<p>Presently, Captain Burrell, having made the rounds +of the room, came back to Georgina. He smiled at her +so warmly that she wondered that she could have thought +his face was stern.</p> + +<p>“They tell me that you are Doctor Huntingdon’s +little girl,” he said with a smile that went +straight to her heart. “So I’ve come back +to ask you all about him. Where is he now and how +is he? You see I have an especial interest in your +distinguished father. He pulled me through a fever +in the Philippines that all but ended me. I have reason +to remember him for his many, many kindnesses to me +at that time.”</p> + +<p>The flush that rose to Georgina’s face might +naturally have been taken for one of pride or pleasure, +but it was only miserable embarrassment at not being +able to answer the Captain’s questions. She could +not bear to confess that she knew nothing of her father’s +whereabouts except the vague fact that he was somewhere +in the interior of China, and that there had been +no letter from him for months and that she had not +seen him for nearly four years.</p> + +<p>“He--he was well the last time we heard from +him,” she managed to stammer. “But I haven’t +heard anything lately. You know my mother isn’t +home now. She went to Kentucky because my grandfather +Shirley was hurt in an accident.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” was +the answer in a cordial, sympathetic voice. “I +hoped to have the pleasure of meeting her and I wanted +Mrs. Burrell to know her, too. But I hope you’ll +come over to the Inn and play with Peggy sometimes. +We’ll be here another week.”</p> + +<p>Georgina thanked him in her prettiest manner, but +she was relieved when he passed on, and she was freed +from the fear of any more embarrassing questions about +her father. Yet her hand still tingled with the friendliness +of his good-bye clasp, and she wished that she could +know him better. As she watched him pass out of the +door with Peggy holding his hand and swinging it as +they walked, she thought hungrily:</p> + +<p>“How good it must seem to have a father like +_that_.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Triplett came up to her soon after. It was time +to close the Bazaar. The last probable customer had +gone, and the ladies in charge of the booths were +beginning to dismantle them. Someone’s chauffeur +was waiting to take Georgina’s costume back +to the Figurehead House.</p> + +<p>She followed Mrs. Triplett obediently into an improvised +dressing-room in the corner, behind a tall screen, +and in a very few minutes was about to emerge clad +in her own clothes, when Mrs. Triplett exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“For pity sakes! Those gold beads!”</p> + +<p>Georgina’s hand went up to the string of gold +beads still around her neck. They also were borrowed +from Mrs. Tupman of the Figurehead House.</p> + +<p>“I was going to ask Mrs. Tupman to take them +home herself,” said Mrs. Triplett, “but +she left earlier than I thought she would, and I had +no chance to say anything about them. We oughtn’t +to trust anything as valuable as gold beads that are +an heirloom to any outsider, no matter how honest. +They might be lost. Suppose you just _wear_ +them home to her. Do you feel like doing that? And +keep them on your neck till she unclasps them with +her own hands. Don’t leave them with a servant.”</p> + +<p>Georgina, tired of sitting all day in the booth, was +glad of an excuse for a long walk. It was almost six +o’clock, but the sun was still high. As she +went along, jostled off the narrow sidewalk and back +on to it again every few steps by the good-natured +crowd which swarmed the streets at this hour, she +could smell supper cooking in the houses along the +way. It would be delayed in many homes because the +tide was in and people were running down the beach +from the various cottages for a dip into the sea. +Some carried their bathing suits in bundles, some wore +them under raincoats or dressing gowns, and some walked +boldly along bare-armed and bare-legged in the suits +themselves.</p> + +<p>It was a gay scene, with touches of color in every +direction. Vivid green grass in all the door-yards, +masses of roses and hollyhocks and clematis against +the clean white of the houses. Color of every shade +in the caps and sweaters and bathing suits and floating +motor veils and parasols, jolly laughter everywhere, +and friendly voices calling back and forth across +the street. It was a holiday town full of happy holiday +people.</p> + +<p>Georgina, skipping along through the midst of it, +added another pretty touch of color to the scene, +with her blue ribbons and hat with the forget-me-nots +around it, but if her thoughts could have been seen, +they would have showed a sober drab. The meeting with +Captain Burrell had left her depressed and unhappy. +The thought uppermost in her mind was why should there +be such a difference in fathers? Why should Peggy Burrell +have such an adorable one, and she be left to feel +like an orphan?</p> + +<p>When she reached the Figurehead House she was told +that Mrs. Tupman had stepped out to a neighbor’s +for a few minutes but would be right back. She could +have left the beads with a member of the family, but +having been told to deliver them into the hands of +the owner only, she sat down in the swing in the yard +to wait.</p> + +<p>From where she sat she could look up at the figurehead +over the portico. It was the best opportunity she +had ever had for studying it closely. Always before +she had been limited to the few seconds that were hers +in walking or driving by. Now she could sit and gaze +at it intently as she pleased.</p> + +<p>The fact that it was weather-stained and dark as an +Indian with the paint worn off its face in patches, +only enhanced its interest in her eyes. It seemed +to bear the scars of one who has suffered and come +up through great tribulation. No matter how battered +this Lady of Mystery was in appearance, to Georgina +she still stood for “Hope,” clinging to +her wreath, still facing the future with head held +high, the symbol of all those, who having ships at +sea, watch and wait for their home-coming with proud, +undaunted courage.</p> + +<p>Only an old wooden image, but out of a past of shipwreck +and storm its message survived and in some subtle +manner found its way into the heart of Georgina.</p> + +<p>“And I’ll do it, too,” she resolved +valiantly, looking up at it. “I’m going +to hope so hard that he’ll be the way I want +him to be, that he’ll just _have_ +to. And if he isn’t--then I’ll just steer +straight onward as if I didn’t mind it, so Barby’ll +never know how disappointed I am. Barby must never +know that.”</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, the gold beads being delivered +into Mrs. Tupman’s own hands, Georgina took +her way homeward, considerably lighter of heart, for +those moments of reflection in the swing. As she passed +the antique shop a great gray cat on the door-step, +rose and stretched itself.</p> + +<p>“Nice kitty!” she said, stopping to smooth +the thick fur which stood up as he arched his back.</p> + +<p>It was “Grandpa,” to whose taste for fish +she owed her prism and the bit of philosophy which +was to brighten not only her own life but all those +which touched hers. But she passed on, unconscious +of her debt to him.</p> + +<p>When she reached the Gray Inn she walked more slowly, +for on the beach back of it she saw several people +whom she recognized. Captain Burrell was in the water +with Peggy and Bailey and half a dozen other children +from the Inn. They were all splashing and laughing. +They seemed to be having some sort of a game. She +stood a moment wishing that she had on her bathing +suit and was down in the water with them. She could +swim better than any of the children there. But she +hadn’t been in the sea since Barby left. That +was one of the things she promised in their dark hour +of parting, not to go in while Barby was gone.</p> + +<p>While she stood there, Mrs. Burrell came out on the +piazza of the Inn, followed by the colored nurse with +the baby who was just learning to walk. The Captain, +seeing them, threw up his hand to signal them. Mrs. +Burrell fluttered her handkerchief in reply.</p> + +<p>Georgina watched the group in the water a moment longer, +then turned and walked slowly on. She felt that if +she could do it without having to give up Barby, she’d +be willing to change places with Peggy Burrell. She’d +take her homely little pale, freckled face, straight +hair and--yes, even her limp, for the right to cling +to that strong protecting shoulder as Peggy was doing +there in the water, and to whisper in his ear, “Dad-o-my-heart.”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch24-end.png"><img src="images/ch24-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_25"></a>Chapter XXV</h1> +<h2>A Letter to Hong-Kong</h2> + +<p>There are some subjects one hesitates to discuss +with one’s family. It is easier to seek information +from strangers or servants, who do not feel free to +come back at you with the disconcerting question, “But +why do you ask?”</p> + +<p>It was with the half-formed resolution of leading +up to a certain one of these difficult subjects if +she could, that Georgina wandered down the beach next +morning to a little pavilion near the Gray Inn. It +was occupied by Peggy Burrell, her baby brother and +the colored nurse Melindy.</p> + +<p>Georgina, sorely wanting companionship now that Richard +and Captain Kidd were off on their yachting trip, +was thankful that Mrs. Triplett had met Captain Burrell +the day before at the Bazaar, and had agreed with him +that Georgina and Peggy ought to be friends because +their fathers were. Otherwise, the occupants of the +pavilion would have been counted as undesirable playmates +being outside the pale of her acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Peggy welcomed her joyfully. She wasn’t strong +enough yet to go off on a whole morning’s fishing +trip with brother and Daddy, she told Georgina, and +her mother was playing bridge on the hotel piazza. +Peggy was a little thing, only eight, and Georgina +not knowing what to do to entertain her, resurrected +an old play that she had not thought of for several +summers. She built Grandfather Shirley’s house +in the sand.</p> + +<p>It took so long to find the right kind of shells with +which to make the lanterns for the gate-posts, and +to gather the twigs of bayberry and beach plum for +the avenues (she had to go into the dunes for them), +that the question she was intending to ask Melindy +slipped from her mind for a while. It came back to +her, however, as she scooped a place in the wall of +pebbles and wet sand which stood for the fence.</p> + +<p>“Here’s the place where the postman drops +the mail.”</p> + +<p>Then she looked up at Melindy, the question on the +tip of her tongue. But Peggy, on her knees, was watching +her so intently that she seemed to be looking straight +into her mouth every time it opened, and her courage +failed her. Instead of saying what she had started +to say, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Here’s the hole in the fence where the +little pigs squeezed through.” Then she told +the story that went with this part of the game. When +it was time to put in the bee-hives, however, and +Peggy volunteered to look up and down the beach for +the right kind of a pebble to set the bee-hives on, +Georgina took advantage of the moment alone with Melindy. +There wasn’t time to lead up to the question +properly. There wasn’t even time to frame the +question in such a way that it would seem a casual, +matter-of-course one. Georgina was conscious that +the blood was surging up into her cheeks until they +must seem as red as fire. She leaned forward toward +the sand-pile she was shaping till her curls fell over +her face. Then she blurted out:</p> + +<p>“How often do husbands write to wives?”</p> + +<p>Melindy either did not hear or did not understand, +and Georgina had the mortifying experience of repeating +the question. It was harder to give utterance to it +the second time than the first. She was relieved when +Melindy answered without showing any surprise.</p> + +<p>“Why, most every week I reckon, when they loves +’em. Leastways white folks do. It comes easy +to them to write. An’ I lived in one place where +the lady got a lettah every othah day.”</p> + +<p>“But I mean when the husband’s gone for +a long, long time, off to sea or to another country, +and is dreadfully busy, like Captain Burrell is when +he’s on his ship.</p> + +<p>Melindy gave a short laugh. “Huh! Let me tell +you, honey, when a man _wants_ to write +he’s gwine to write, busy or no busy.”</p> + +<p>Later, Georgina went home pondering Melindy’s +answer. “Most every week when they love’s +’em. Sometimes every other day.” And Barby +had had no letter for over four months.</p> + +<p>Something happened that afternoon which had never +happened before in all Georgina’s experience. +She was taken to the Gray Inn to call. Mrs. Triplett, +dressed in her new black summer silk, took her.</p> + +<p>“As long as Barbara isn’t here to pay +some attention to that Mrs. Burrell,” Tippy +said to Belle, “it seems to me it’s my +place as next of kin. The Captain couldn’t get +done saying nice things about Justin.”</p> + +<p>Evidently, she approved of both Mrs. Burrell and Peggy, +for when each begged that Georgina be allowed to stay +to supper she graciously gave permission.</p> + +<p>“Peggy has taken the wildest fancy to you, dear,” +Mrs. Burrell said in an aside to Georgina. “You +gave her a beautiful morning on the beach. The poor +little thing has suffered so much with her lame knee, +that we are grateful to anyone who makes her forget +all that she has gone through. It’s only last +week that she could have the brace taken off. She hasn’t +been able to run and play like other children for two +years, but we’re hoping she may outgrow the +trouble in time.”</p> + +<p>The dining-room of the Gray Inn overlooked thel sea, +and was so close to the water one had the feeling +of being in a boat, when looking out of its windows. +There were two South American transports in the harbor. +Some of the officers had come ashore and were dining +with friends at the Gray Inn. Afterwards they stayed +to dance a while in the long parlor with the young +ladies of the party. Peggy and Georgina sat on the +piazza just outside one of the long French windows, +where they could watch the gay scene inside. It seemed +almost as gay outside, when one turned to look across +the harbor filled with moving lights. Captain and Mrs. +Burrell were outside also. They sat farther down the +piazza, near the railing, talking to one of the officers +who was not dancing. Once when the music stopped, +Peggy turned to Georgina to say:</p> + +<p>“Do you hear Daddy speaking Spanish to that +officer from South America? Doesn’t he do it +well? I can understand a little of what they say because +we lived in South America a while last year. We join +him whenever he is stationed at a port where officers +can take their families. He says that children of +the navy have to learn to be regular gypsies. I love +going to new places. How many languages can your father +speak?”</p> + +<p>Georgina, thus suddenly questioned, felt that she +would rather die than acknowledge that she knew so +little of her father that she could not answer. She +was saved the mortification of confessing it, however, +by the music striking up again at that moment.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can play that!” she exclaimed. +“That’s the dance of the tarantula. Isn’t +it a weird sort of thing?”</p> + +<p>The air of absorbed interest with which Georgioa turned +to listen to the music made Peggy forget her question, +and listen in the same way. She wanted to do everything +in the same way that Georgina did it, and from that +moment that piece of music held special charm for her +because Georgina called it weird.</p> + +<p>The next time Georgina glanced down the piazza Mrs. +Burrell was alone. In her dimly-lighted corner, she +looked like one of the pretty summer girls one sees +sometimes on a magazine cover. She was all in white +with a pale blue wrap of some kind about her that +was so soft and fleecy it looked like a pale blue +cloud. Georgina found herself looking down that way +often, with admiring glances. She happened to have +her eyes turned that way when the Captain came back +and stood beside her chair. The blue wrap had slipped +from her shoulders without her notice, and he stooped +and picked it up. Then he drew the soft, warm thing +up around her, and bending over, laid his cheek for +just an instant against hers.</p> + +<p>It was such a fleeting little caress that no one saw +but Georgina, and she turned her eyes away instantly, +feeling that she had no right to look, yet glad that +she had seen, because of the warm glow it sent through +her. She couldn’t tell why, but somehow the world +seemed a happier sort of place for everybody because +such things happened in it.</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” she thought wistfully, as +her eyes followed the graceful steps of the foreign +dancers and her thoughts stayed with what she had +just witnessed, “I wonder if that had been Barby +and my father, would _he_?”----</p> + +<p>But she did not finish even to herself the question +which rose up to worry her. It came back every time +she recalled the little scene.</p> + +<p>On the morning after her visit to the Gray Inn she +climbed up on the piano stool when she had finished +practising her scales. She wanted a closer view of +the portrait which hung over it. It was an oil painting +of her father at the age of five. He wore kilts and +little socks with plaid tops, and he carried a white +rabbit in his arms. Georgina knew every inch of the +canvas, having admired it from the time she was first +held up to it in someone’s arms to “see +the pretty bunny.” Now she looked at it long +and searchingly.</p> + +<p>Then she opened the book-case and took out an old +photograph album. There were several pictures of her +father in that. One taken with his High School class, +and one with a group of young medical students, and +one in the white service dress of an assistant surgeon +of the navy. None of them corresponded with her dim +memory of him.</p> + +<p>Then she went upstairs to Barby’s room, and +stood before the bureau, studying the picture upon +it in a large silver frame. It was taken in a standing +position and had been carefully colored, so that she +knew accurately every detail of the dress uniform +of a naval surgeon from the stripes of gold lace and +maroon velvet on the sleeves, to the eagle on the +belt buckle and the sword knot dangling over the scabbard. +There were various medals pinned on his breast which +had always interested her.</p> + +<p>But this morning it was not the uniform or the decorations +which claimed her attention. It was the face itself. +She was looking for something in the depths of those +serious dark eyes, that she had seen in Captain Burrell’s +when he looked at Peggy; something more than a smile, +something that made his whole face light up till you +felt warm and happy just to look at him. She wondered +if the closely-set lips she was studying could curve +into a welcoming smile if anybody ran to meet him with +happy outstretched arms. But the picture was baffling +and disappointing, because it was a profile view.</p> + +<p>Presently, she picked it up and carried it to her +own room, placing it on the table where she always +sat to write. She had screwed up her courage at last, +to the point of writing the letter which long ago she +had decided ought to be written by somebody.</p> + +<p>Once Barby said, “When you can’t think +of anything to put in a letter, look at the person’s +picture, and pretend you’re talking to it.” +Georgina followed that advice now. But one cannot +talk enthusiastically to a listener who continues +to show you only his profile.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, her resentment flamed hot against this handsome, +averted face which was all she knew of a father. She +thought bitterly that he had no business to be such +a stranger to her that she didn’t even know what +he looked like when he smiled. Something of the sternness +of her old Pilgrim forbears crept into her soul as +she sat there judging him and biting the end of her +pen. She glanced down at the sheet of paper on which +she had painstakingly written “Dear Father.” +Then she scratched out the words, feeling she could +not honestly call him that when he was such a stranger. +Taking a clean sheet of paper, she wrote even more +painstakingly:</p> + +<p>“Dear Sir: There are two reesons----”</p> + +<p>Then she looked up in doubt about the spelling of +that last word. She might have gone downstairs and +consulted the dictionary but her experience had proved +that a dictionary is an unsatisfactory book when one +does not know how to spell a word. It is by mere chance +that what one is looking for can be found. After thinking +a moment she put her head out of the window and called +softly down to Belle, who was sewing on the side porch. +She called softly so that Tippy could not hear and +answer and maybe add the remark, “But why do +you ask? Are you writing to your mother?”</p> + +<p>Belle spelled the word for her, and taking another +sheet of paper Georgina made a fresh start. This time +she did not hesitate over the spelling, but scribbled +recklessly on until all that was crowding up to be +said was on the paper.</p> + +<p>“Dear Sir: There are two reasons for writing +this. One is about your wife. Cousin Mehitable says +something is eating her heart out, and I thought you +ought to know. Maybe as you can cure so many strange +diseeses you can do something for her. The other is +to ask you to send us another picture of yourself. +The only ones we have of you are looking off sideways, +and I can’t feel as well acquainted with you +as if I could look into your eyes.</p> + +<p>“There is a lovely father staying at the Gray +Inn. He is Peggy Burrell’s. He is a naval officer, +too. It makes me feel like an orfan when I see him +going down the street holding her hand. He asked me +to tell him all about where you are and what you are +doing, because you cured him once on a hospital ship, +and I was ashamed to tell him that I didn’t know +because Barby has not had a letter from you for over +four months. Please don’t let on to her that +I wrote this. She doesn’t know that I was under +the bed when Cousin Mehitable was talking about you, +and saying that everybody thinks it is queer you never +come home. If you can do only one of the things I +asked, please do the first one. Yours truly, Georgina +Huntingdon.”</p> + +<p>Having blotted the letter, Georgina read it over carefully, +finding two words that did not look quite right, although +she did not know what was the matter with them. So +she called softly out of the window again to Belle:</p> + +<p>“How do you spell diseases?”</p> + +<p>Belle told her but added the question, “Why +do you ask a word like that? Whose diseases can you +be writing about?”</p> + +<p>Georgina drew in her head without answering. She could +not seek help in that quarter again, especially for +such a word as “orfan.” After studying +over it a moment she remembered there was a poem in +“Songs for the Little Ones at Home,” called +“The Orphan Nosegay Girl.”</p> + +<p>A trip downstairs for the tattered volume gave her +the word she wanted, and soon the misspelled one was +scratched out and rewritten. There were now three +unsightly blots on the letter and she hovered over +them a moment, her pride demanding that she should +make a clean, fair copy. But it seemed such an endless +task to rewrite it from beginning to end, that she +finally decided to send it as it stood.</p> + +<p>Addressed, stamped and sealed, it was ready at last +and she dropped it into the mail-box. Then she had +a moment of panic. It was actually started on its +way to Hong-Kong and nothing in her power could stop +it or bring it back. She wondered if she hadn’t +done exactly the wrong thing, and made a bad matter +worse.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_26"></a>Chapter XXVI</h1> +<h2>Peggy Joins the Rainbow-Makers</h2> + +<p>Only one more thing happened before Barby’s +return that is worth recording. Georgina went to spend +the way at the Gray Inn. Captain Burrell, himself, +came to ask her. Peggy had to be put back into her +brace again he said. He was afraid it had been taken +off too soon. She was very uncomfortable and unhappy +on account of it. They would be leaving in the morning, +much earlier than they had intended, because it was +necessary for her physician to see her at once, and +quite probable that she would have to go back to the +sanitarium for a while. She didn’t want to leave +Provincetown, because she did not want to go away from +Georgina.</p> + +<p>“You have no idea how she admires you,” +the Captain added, “or how she tries to copy +you. Her dream of perfect happiness is to look and +act just like you. Yesterday she made her mother tie +a big pink bow on her poor little cropped head because +you passed by wearing one on your curls. You can cheer +her up more than anyone else in the world.”</p> + +<p>So Georgina, touched both by the Captain’s evident +distress over Peggy’s returning lameness, and +Peggy’s fondness for her, went gladly. The knowledge +that everything she said and did was admired, made +it easy for her to entertain the child, and the pity +that welled up in her heart every time she watched +the thin little body move around in the tiresome brace, +made her long to do something that would really ease +the burden of such a misfortune.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Burrell was busy packing all morning, and in +the afternoon went down the street to do some shopping +that their hurried departure made necessary. Peggy +brought out her post-card album, in which to fasten +all the postals she had added to her collection while +on the Cape. Among them was one of the Figurehead +House, showing “Hope” perched over the +portico.</p> + +<p>“Bailey says that’s a sea-cook,” +Peggy explained gravely. “A sea-cook who was +such a wooden-head that when he made doughnuts they +turned green. He’s got one in his hand that +he’s about to heave into the sea.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, horrors! No!” exclaimed Georgina, +as scandalized as if some false report had been circulated +about one of her family.</p> + +<p>“That is Hope with a wreath in her hand, looking +up with her head held high, just as she did when she +was on the prow of a gallant ship. Whenever I have +any trouble or disappointment I think of her, and she +helps me to bear up and be brave, and go on as if nothing +had happened.”</p> + +<p>“How?” asked Peggy, gazing with wondering +eyes at the picture of the figurehead, which was too +small on the postal to be very distinct. Anything +that Georgina respected and admired so deeply, Peggy +wanted to respect and admire in the same way, but +it was puzzling to understand just what it was that +Georgina saw in that wooden figure to make her feel +so. Accustomed to thinking of it in Bailey’s +way, as a sea-cook with a doughnut, it was hard to +switch around to a point of view that showed it as +Hope with a wreath, or to understand how it could help +one to be brave about anything.</p> + +<p>Something of her bewilderment crept into the wondering +“why,” and Georgina hesitated, a bit puzzled +herself. It was hard to explain to a child two years +younger what had been taught to her by the old Towncrier.</p> + +<p>“You wait till I run home and get my prism,” +she answered. “Then I can show you right away, +and we can play a new kind of tag game with it.”</p> + +<p>Before Peggy could protest that she would rather have +her question unanswered than be left alone, Georgina +was off and running up the beach as fast as her little +white shoes could carry her. Her cheeks were as red +as the coral necklace she wore, when she came back +breathless from her flying trip.</p> + +<p>There followed a few moments of rapture for Peggy, +when the beautiful crystal pendant was placed in her +own hands, and she looked through it into a world +transformed by the magic of its coloring. She saw the +room changed in a twinkling, as when a fairy wand +transforms a mantle of homespun to cloth-of-gold. +Through the open window she saw an enchanted harbor +filled with a fleet of rainbows. Every sail was outlined +with one, every mast edged with lines of red and gold +and blue. And while she looked, and at the same time +listened, Georgina’s explanation caught some +of the same glamor, and sank deep into her tender little +heart.</p> + +<p>That was the way that _she_ could change +the world for people she loved--put a rainbow around +their troubles by being so cheery and hopeful that +everything would be brighter just because she was there. +To keep Hope at the prow simply meant that she mustn’t +get discouraged about her knee. No matter how much +it hurt her or the brace bothered her, she must bear +up and steer right on. To do that bravely, without +any fretting, was the surest way in the world to put +a rainbow around her father’s troubles.</p> + +<p>Thus Georgina mixed her “line to live by” +and her prism philosophy, but it was clear enough +to the child who listened with heart as well as ears. +And clear enough to the man who sat just outside the +open window on the upper porch, with his pipe, listening +also as he gazed off to sea.</p> + +<p>“The poor little lamb,” he said to himself. +“To think of that baby trying to bear up and +be brave on my account! It breaks me all up.”</p> + +<p>A few minutes later as he started across the hall, +Peggy, seeing him pass her door, called to him. “Oh, +Daddy! Come look through this wonderful fairy glass. +You’ll think the whole world is bewitched.”</p> + +<p>She was lying back in a long steamer chair, and impatient +to reach him, she started to climb out as he entered +the room. But she had not grown accustomed to the +brace again, and she stumbled clumsily on account of +it. He caught her just in time to save her from falling, +but the prism, the shining crystal pendant, dropped +from her hands and struck the rocker of a chair in +its fall to the floor.</p> + +<p>She gave a frightened cry, and stood holding her breath +while Georgina stooped and picked it up. It was in +two pieces now. The long, radiant point, cut in many +facets like a diamond, was broken off.</p> + +<p>Georgina, pale and trembling at this sudden destruction +of her greatest treasure, turned her back, and for +one horrible moment it was all she could do to keep +from bursting out crying. Peggy, seeing her turn away +and realizing all that her awkwardness was costing +Georgina, buried her face on her father’s shoulder +and went into such a wild paroxysm of sobbing and +crying that all his comforting failed to comfort her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wish I’d _died_ first,” +she wailed. “She’ll never love me again. +She said it was her most precious treasure, and now +I’ve broken it----”</p> + +<p>“There, there, there,” soothed the Captain, +patting the thin little arm reached up to cling around +his neck. “Georgina knows it was an accident. +She’s going to forgive my poor little Peggykins +for what she couldn’t help. She doesn’t +mind its being broken as much as you think.”</p> + +<p>He looked across at Georgina, appealingly, helplessly. +Peggy’s grief was so uncontrollable he was growing +alarmed. Georgina wanted to cry out:</p> + +<p>“Oh, I _do_ mind! How can you say +that? I can’t stand it to have my beautiful, +beautiful prism ruined!”</p> + +<p>She was only a little girl herself, with no comforting +shoulder to run to. But something came to her help +just then. She remembered the old silver porringer +with its tall, slim-looped letters. She remembered +there were some things she could not do. She _had_ +to be brave now, because her name had been written +around that shining rim through so many brave generations. +She could not deepen the hurt of this poor little +thing already nearly frantic over what she had done. +Tippy’s early lessons carried her gallantly +through now. She ran across the room to where Peggy +sat on her father’s knee, and put an arm around +her.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Peggy,” she said brightly. “There’s +a piece of prism for each of us now. Isn’t that +nice? You take one and I’ll keep the other, and +that will make you a member of our club. We call it +the Rainbow Club, and we’re running a race seeing +who can make the most bright spots in the world, by +making people happy. There’s just four members +in it so far; Richard and me and the president of +the bank and Mr. Locke, the artist, who made the pictures +in your blue and gold fairy-tale book. And you can +be the fifth. But you’ll have to begin this minute +by stopping your crying, or you can’t belong. +What did I tell you about fretting?”</p> + +<p>And Peggy stopped. Not instantly, she couldn’t +do that after such a hard spell. The big sobs kept +jerking her for a few minutes no matter how hard she +tried to stiffle them; but she sat up and let her father +wipe her face on his big handkerchief, and she smiled +her bravest, to show that she was worthy of membership +in the new club.</p> + +<p>The Captain suddenly drew Georgina to his other knee +and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“You blessed little rainbow maker!” he +exclaimed. “I’d like to join your club +myself. What a happy world this would be if everybody +belonged to it.”</p> + +<p>Peggy clasped her hands together beseechingly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, _please_ let him belong, Georgina. +I’ll lend him my piece of prism half the time.”</p> + +<p>“Of course he can,” consented Georgina. +“But he can belong without having a prism. Grown +people don’t need anything to help them remember +about making good times in the world.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” said the Captain, as if he +were talking to himself. Georgina, looking at him +shyly from the corner of her eye, wondered what it +was he wondered.</p> + +<p>It was almost supper time when she went home. She +had kept the upper half of the prism which had the +hole in it, and it dangled from her neck on the pink +ribbon as she walked.</p> + +<p>“If only Barby could have seen it first,” +she mourned. “I wouldn’t mind it so much. +But she’ll never know how beautiful it was.”</p> + +<p>But every time that thought came to her it was followed +by a recollection which made her tingle with happiness. +It was the Captain’s deep voice saying tenderly, +“You blessed little rainbow-maker!”</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch26-end.png"><img src="images/ch26-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_27"></a>Chapter XXVII</h1> +<h2>A Modern “St. George and the Dragon”</h2> + +<p>Barby was at home again. Georgina, hearing the jangle +of a bell, ran down the street to meet the old Towncrier +with the news. She knew now, he felt when he wanted +to go through the town ringing his bell and calling +out the good tidings about his Danny to all the world. +That’s the way she felt her mother’s home-coming +ought to be proclaimed. It was such a joyful thing +to have her back again.</p> + +<p>And Grandfather Shirley wasn’t going to be blind, +Georgina confided in her next breath. The sight of +both eyes would be all right in time. They were _so_ +thankful about that. And Barby had brought her the +darlingest little pink silk parasol ever made or dreamed +of, all the way from Louisville, and some beaten biscuit +and a comb of honey from the beehives in her old home +garden.</p> + +<p>It was wonderful how much news Georgina managed to +crowd into the short time that it took to walk back +to the gate. The Burrells had left town and Belle +had gone home, and Richard had sent her a postal card +from Bar Harbor with a snapshot of himself and Captain +Kidd on it. And--she lowered her voice almost to a +whisper as she told the next item:</p> + +<p>“Barby knows about Danny! Belle said I might +tell her if she’d promise not to let it get +back to Mr. Potter.”</p> + +<p>They had reached the house by this time, and Georgina +led him in to Barby who rose to welcome him with both +hands outstretched.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Uncle Darcy,” she exclaimed. “I +know--and I’m _so_ glad. And Justin +will be, too. I sent Georgina’s letter to him +the very day it came. I knew he’d be so interested, +and it can do no harm for him to know, away off there +in the interior of China.”</p> + +<p>Georgina was startled, remembering the letter which +_she_ had sent to the interior of China. +Surely her father wouldn’t send that back to +Barby! Such a panic seized her at the bare possibility +of such a thing, that she did not hear Uncle Darcy’s +reply. She wondered what Barby would say if it should +come back to her. Then she recalled what had happened +the first few moments of Barby’s return and wondered +what made her think of it.</p> + +<p>Barby’s first act on coming into the house, +was to walk over to the old secretary where the mail +was always laid, and look to see if any letters were +waiting there for her. And that was before she had +even stopped to take off her veil or gloves. There +were three which had arrived that morning, but she +only glanced at them and tossed them aside. The one +she wanted wasn’t there. Georgina had turned +away and pretended that she wasn’t watching +but she was, and for a moment she felt that the sun +had gone behind a cloud, Barby looked so disappointed.</p> + +<p>But it was only for a moment, for Barby immediately +began to tell about an amusing experience she had +on her way home, and started upstairs to take off +her hat, with Georgina tagging after to ask a thousand +questions, just as she had been tagging ever since.</p> + +<p>And later she had thrown her arms arpund her mother, +exclaiming as she held her fast, “You haven’t +changed a single bit, Barby,” and Barby answered +gaily:</p> + +<p>“What did you expect, dearest, in a few short +weeks? White hair and spectacles?”</p> + +<p>“But it doesn’t seem like a few short +weeks,” sighed Georgina. “It seems as +if years full of things had happened, and that I’m +as old as you are.”</p> + +<p>Now as Uncle Darcy recounted some of these happenings, +and Barby realized how many strange experiences Georgina +had lived through during her absence, how many new +acquaintances she had made and how much she had been +allowed to go about by herself, she understood why +the child felt so much older. She understood still +better that night as she sat brushing Georgina’s +curls. The little girl on the footstool at her knee +was beginning to reach up--was beginning to ask questions +about the strange grown-up world whose sayings and +doings are always so puzzling to little heads.</p> + +<p>“Barby,” she asked hesitatingly, “what +do people mean exactly, when they say they have other +fish to fry?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, just other business to attend to or something +else they’d rather do.”</p> + +<p>“But when they shrug their shoulders at the +same time,” persisted Georgina.</p> + +<p>“A shrug can stand for almost anything,” +answered Barby. “Sometimes it says meaner things +than words can convey.”</p> + +<p>Then came the inevitable question which made Georgina +wish that she had not spoken.</p> + +<p>“But why do you ask, dear? Tell me how the expression +was used, and I can explain better.”</p> + +<p>Now Georgina could not understand why she had brought +up the subject. It had been uppermost in her mind +all evening, but every time it reached the tip of +her tongue she drove it back. That is, until this last +time. Then it seemed to say itself. Having gone this +far she could not lightly change the subject as an +older person might have done. Barby was waiting for +an answer. It came in a moment, halting but truthful.</p> + +<p>“That day I was at the Bazaar, you know, and +everybody was saying how nice I looked, dressed up +like a little girl of long ago, I heard Mrs. Whitman +say to Miss Minnis that one would think that Justin +Huntingdon would want to come home once or twice in +a lifetime to see me; and Miss Minnis shrugged her +shoulders, this way, and said:</p> + +<p>“‘Oh, he has other fish to fry.’”</p> + +<p>Georgina, with her usual aptitude for mimicry, made +the shrug so eloquent that Barby understood exactly +what Miss Minnis intended to convey, and what it had +meant to the wondering child.</p> + +<p>“Miss Minnis is an old cat!” she exclaimed +impatiently. Then she laid down the brush, and gathering +Georgina’s curls into one hand, turned her head +so that she could look into the troubled little face.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Baby,” she demanded. “Have +you heard anyone else say things like that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” admitted Georgina, “several +times. And yesterday a woman who came into the bakery +while I was getting the rolls Tippy sent me for, asked +me if I was Doctor Huntingdon’s little girl. +And when I said yes, she asked me when he was coming +home.”</p> + +<p>“And what did you say?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I thought she hadn’t any right +to ask, specially in the way she made her question +sound. She doesn’t belong in this town, anyhow. +She’s only one of the summer boarders. So I +drew myself up the way the Duchess always did in ‘The +Fortunes of Romney Tower.’ Don’t you remember? +and I said, ‘It will probably be some time, +Madam.’ Then I took up my bag of hot rolls and +marched out. I think that word Madam always sounds +so freezing, when you say it the way the Duchess was +always doing.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you ridiculous baby!” exclaimed Barby, +clasping her close and kissing her again and again. +Then seeing the trouble still lingering in the big +brown eyes, she took the little face between her hands +and looked into it long and intently, as if reading +her thoughts.</p> + +<p>“Georgina,” she said presently, “I +understand now, what is the matter. You’re wondering +the same thing about your father that these busybodies +are. It’s my fault though. I took it for granted +that you understood about his long absence. I never +dreamed that it was hurting you in any way.”</p> + +<p>Georgina hid her face in Barby’s lap, her silence +proof enough that her mother had guessed aright. For +a moment or two Barby’s hand strayed caressingly +over the bowed head. Then she said:</p> + +<p>“I wonder if you remember this old story I used +to tell you, beginning, ’St. George of Merry +England was the youngest and the bravest of the seven +champions of Christendom. Clad in bright armor with +his magic sword Ascalon by his side, he used to travel +on his war horse in far countries in search of adventure.’ +Do you remember that?”</p> + +<p>Georgina nodded yes without raising her head.</p> + +<p>“Then you remember he came to a beach where +the Princess Saba called to him to flee, because the +Dragon, the most terrible monster ever seen on earth, +was about to come up out of the sea and destroy the +city. Every year it came up to do this, and only the +sacrifice of a beautiful maiden could stop it from +destroying the people.</p> + +<p>“But undismayed, Saint George refused to flee. +He stayed on and fought the dragon, and wounded it, +and bound it with the maiden’s sash and led +it into the market place where it was finally killed. +And the people were forever freed from the terrible +monster because of his prowess. Do you remember all +that?”</p> + +<p>Again Georgina nodded. She knew the story well. Every +Christmas as far back as she could remember she had +eaten her bit of plum pudding from a certain rare +old blue plate, on which was the picture of Saint George, +the dragon and the Princess. “Nowadays,” +Barby went on, “because men do not ride around +‘clad in bright armor,’ doing knightly +deeds, people do not recognize them as knights. But +your father is doing something that is just as great +and just as brave as any of the deeds of any knight +who ever drew a sword. Over in foreign ports where +he has been stationed, is a strange disease which +seems to rise out of the marshes every year, just +as the dragon did, and threaten the health and the +lives of the people. It is especially bad on shipboard, +and it is really harder to fight than a real dragon +would be, because it is an invisible foe, a sickness +that comes because of a tiny, unseen microbe.</p> + +<p>“Your father has watched it, year after year, +attacking not only the sailors of foreign navies but +our own men, when they have to live in those ports, +and he made up his mind to go on a quest for this invisible +monster, and kill it if possible. It is such a very +important quest that the Government was glad to grant +him a year’s leave of absence from the service.</p> + +<p>“He was about to come home to see us first, +when he met an old friend, a very wealthy Englishman, +who has spent the greater part of his life collecting +rare plants and studying their habits. He has written +several valuable books on Botany, and the last ten +years he has been especially interested in the plants +of China. He was getting ready to go to the very places +that your father was planning to visit, and he had +with him an interpreter and a young American assistant. +When he invited your father to join him it was an +opportunity too great to be refused. This Mr. Bowles +is familiar with the country and the people, even speaks +the language himself a little. He had letters to many +of the high officials, and could be of the greatest +assistance to your father in many ways, even though +he did not stay with the party. He could always be +in communication with it.</p> + +<p>“So, of course, he accepted the invitation. +It is far better for the quest and far better for +himself to be with such companions.</p> + +<p>“I am not uneasy about him, knowing he has friends +within call in case of sickness and accident, and +he will probably be able to accomplish his purpose +more quickly with the help they will be able to give. +You know he has to go off into all sorts of dirty, +uncomfortable places, risk his own health and safety, +go among the sick and suffering where he can watch +the progress of the disease under different conditions.</p> + +<p>“The whole year may be spent in a vain search, +with nothing to show for it at the end, and even if +he is successful and finds the cause of this strange +illness and a remedy, his only reward will be the satisfaction +of knowing he has done something to relieve the suffering +of his fellow-creatures. People can understand the +kind of bravery that shows. If he were rescuing one +person from a burning house or a sinking boat they +would cry out, ‘What a hero.’ But they +don’t seem to appreciate this kind of rescue +work. It will do a thousand times more good, because +it will free the whole navy from the teeth of the +dragon.</p> + +<p>“If there were a war, people would not expect +him to come home. We are giving him up to his country +now, just as truly as if he were in the midst of battle. +A soldier’s wife and a soldier’s daughter--it +is the proof of our love and loyalty, Georgina, to +bear his long absence cheerfully, no matter how hard +that is to do; to be proud that he can serve his country +if not with his sword, with the purpose and prowess +of a Saint George.”</p> + +<p>Barby’s eyes were wet but there was a starry +light in them, as she lifted Georgina’s head +and kissed her. Two little arms were thrown impulsively +around her neck.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Barby! I’m so sorry that I didn’t +know all that before! I didn’t understand, and +I felt real ugly about it when I heard people whispering +and saying things as if he didn’t love us any +more. And--when I said my prayers at bedtime--I didn’t +sing ‘Eternal Father Strong to Save’ a +single night while you were gone.”</p> + +<p>Comforting arms held her close.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you write and tell mother +about it?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t want to make you feel bad. I +was afraid from what Cousin Mehitable said you were +going to _die_. I worried and worried over +it. Oh, I had the miserablest time!”</p> + +<p>Another kiss interrupted her. “But you’ll +never do that way again, Georgina. Promise me that +no matter what happens you’ll come straight to +me and have it set right.”</p> + +<p>The promise was given, with what remorse and penitence +no one could know but Georgina, recalling the letter +she had written, beginning with a stern “Dear +Sir.” But to justify herself, she asked after +the hair-brushing had begun again:</p> + +<p>“But Barby, why has he stayed away from home +four whole years? He wasn’t hunting dragons +before this, was he?”</p> + +<p>“No, but I thought you understood that, too. +He didn’t come back here to the Cape because +there were important things which kept him in Washington +during his furloughs. Maybe you were too small to remember +that the time you and I were spending the summer in +Kentucky he had planned to join us there. But he wired +that his best friend in the Navy, an old Admiral, was +at the point of death, and didn’t want him to +leave him. The Admiral had befriended him in so many +ways when he first went into the service that there +was nothing else for your father to do but stay with +him as long as he was needed. You were only six then, +and I was afraid the long, hot trip might make you +sick, so I left you with mamma while I went on for +several weeks. Surely you remember something of that +time.”</p> + +<p>“No, just being in Kentucky is all I remember, +and your going away for a while.”</p> + +<p>“And the next time some business affairs of +his own kept him in Washington, something very important. +You were just getting over the measles and I didn’t +dare take you, so you stayed with Tippy. So you see +it wasn’t your father’s fault that he didn’t +see you. He had expected you to be brought down to +Washington.”</p> + +<p>Georgina pondered over the explanation a while, then +presently said with a sigh, “Goodness me, how +easy it is to look at things the wrong way.”</p> + +<p>Soon after her voice blended with Barby’s in +a return to the long neglected bedtime rite:</p> + +<blockquote>“Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,<br /> +For those in peril on the sea.”</blockquote> + +<p>Afterward, her troubles all smoothed and explained +away, she lay in the dark, comforted and at peace +with the world. Once a little black doubt thrust its +head up like a snake, to remind her of Melindy’s +utterance, “When a man _wants_ to +write, he’s gwine to write, busy or no busy.” +But even that found an explanation in her thoughts.</p> + +<p>Of course, Melindy meant just ordinary men, Not those +who had great deeds to do in the world like her father. +Probably Saint George himself hadn’t written +to his family often, if he had a family. He couldn’t +be expected to. He had “other fish to fry,” +and it was perfectly right and proper for him to put +his mind on the frying of them to the neglect of everything +else.</p> + +<p>The four months’ long silence was unexplained +save for this comforting thought, but Georgina worried +about it no longer. Up from below came the sound of +keys touched softly as Barby sang an old lullaby. She +sang it in a glad, trustful sort of way,</p> + +<blockquote>“He is far across the sea,<br /> +But he’s coming home to me,<br /> +Baby mine!”</blockquote> + +<p>Lying there in the dark, Georgina composed another +letter to send after her first one, and next morning +this is what she wrote, sitting up in the willow tree +with a magazine on her knees for a writing table:</p> + +<p>“Dearest Father: I am sorry that I wrote that +last letter, because everything is different from +what I thought it was. I did not know until Barby +came home and told me, that you are just as brave as +St. George was, clad in bright armor, when he went +to rescue the people from the dragon. I hope you get +the monster that comes up out of the sea every year +after the poor sailors. Barby says we are giving you +to our country in this way, as much as if there was +war, so now I’m prouder of having a St.-George-and-the-dragon-kind +of a father than one like Peggy Burrell’s, even +if she does know him well enough to call him ‘Dad-o’-my-heart.’ +Even if people don’t understand, and say things +about your never coming home to see us, we are going +to ‘still bear up and steer right onward,’ +because that’s our line to live by. And we hope +as hard as we can every day, that you’ll get +the mike-robe you are in kwest of. Your loving little +daughter, Georgina Huntingdon.”</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_28"></a>Chapter XXVIII</h1> +<h2>The Doctor’s Discovery</h2> + +<p>In due time the letter written in the willow tree +reached the city of Hong-Kong, and was carried to +the big English hotel, overlooking the loveliest of +Chinese harbors. But it was not delivered to Doctor +Huntingdon. It was piled on top of all the other mail +which lay there, awaiting his return. Under it was +Georgina’s first letter to him and the one she +had written to her mother about Dan Darcy and the rifle. +And under that was the one which Barbara called the +“rainbow letter,” and then at least half +a dozen from Barbara herself, with the beautiful colored +photograph of the Towncrier and his lass. Also there +were several bundles of official-looking documents +and many American newspapers.</p> + +<p>Nothing had been forwarded to him for two months, +because he had left instructions to hold his mail +until further notice. The first part of that time +he was moving constantly from one out-of-the-way place +to another where postal delivery was slow and uncertain. +The last part of that time he was lying ill in the +grip of the very disease which he had gone out to +study and to conquer.</p> + +<p>He was glad then to be traveling in the wake of the +friendly old Englishman and his party. Through their +interpreter, arrangements were made to have him carried +to one of the tents of a primitive sort of a hospital, +kept by some native missionaries. The Englishman’s +young assistant went with him. He was a quiet fellow +whom Mr. Bowles had jokingly dubbed David the silent, +because it was so hard to make him talk. But Doctor +Huntingdon, a reserved, silent man himself, had been +attracted to him by that very trait.</p> + +<p>During the months they had been thrown together so +much, Dave had taken great interest in the Doctor’s +reports of the experiments he was making in treating +the disease. When the Doctor was told that Mr. Bowles +had gone back to the coast, having found what he wanted +and made his notes for his next book, and consequently +Dave was free to stay and nurse him, he gave a sigh +of relief.</p> + +<p>Dave stopped his thanks almost gruffly.</p> + +<p>“There’s more than one reason for my staying,” +he said. “I’ve been sick among strangers +in a strange country, myself, and I know how it feels. +Besides, I’m interested in seeing if this new +treatment of yours works out on a white man as well +as it did on these natives. I’ll be doing as +much in the way of scientific research, keeping a chart +on you, as if I were taking notes for Mr. Bowles.”</p> + +<p>That was a long speech for Dave, the longest that +he made during the Doctor’s illness. But in +the days which followed, one might well have wondered +if there was not a greater reason than those he offered +for such devoted attendance. He was always within +call, always so quick to notice a want that usually +a wish was gratified before it could be expressed. +His was a devotion too constant to be prompted merely +by sympathy for a fellow-country-man or interest in +medical experiments.</p> + +<p>Once, when the Doctor was convalescing, he opened +his eyes to find his silent attendant sitting beside +him reading, and studied him for some time, unobserved.</p> + +<p>“Dave,” he said, after watching him a +while--“it’s the queerest thing-- lately +every time I look at you I’m reminded of home. +You must resemble someone I used to know back there, +but for the life of me I can’t recall who.”</p> + +<p>Dave answered indifferently, without glancing up from +the page.</p> + +<p>“There’s probably a thousand fellows that +look like me. I’m medium height and about every +third person you see back in the States has gray eyes +like mine, and just the ordinary every-day sort of +features that I have.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor made no answer. It never would have occurred +to him to tell Dave in what way his face differed +from the many others of his type. There was a certain +kindliness of twinkle in the gray eyes at times, and +always a straightforward honesty of gaze that made +one instinctively trust him. There was strength of +purpose in the resolute set of his mouth, and one +could not imagine him being turned back on any road +which he had made up his mind to travel to the end.</p> + +<p>Several days after that when the Doctor was sitting +up outside the tent, the resemblance to someone whom +he could not recall, puzzled him again. Dave was whittling, +his lips pursed up as he whistled softly in an absent-minded +sort of way.</p> + +<p>“Dave,” exclaimed the Doctor, “there’s +something in the way you sit there, whittling and +whistling that brings little old Provincetown right +up before my eyes. I can see old Captain Ames sitting +there on the wharf on a coil of rope, whittling just +as you are doing, and joking with Sam and the crew +as they pile into the boat to go out to the weirs. +I can see the nets spread out to dry alongshore, and +smell tar and codfish as plain as if it were here +right under my nose. And down in Fishburn Court there’s +the little house that was always a second home to me, +with Uncle Darcy pottering around in the yard, singing +his old sailors’ songs.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor closed his eyes and drew in a long, slow +breath.</p> + +<p>“Um! There’s the most delicious smell +coming out of that kitchen-- blueberry pies that Aunt +Elspeth’s baking. What wouldn’t I give +this minute for one of those good, juicy blueberry +pies of hers, smoking hot. I can smell it clear over +here in China. There never was anything in the world +that tasted half so good. I was always tagging around +after Uncle Darcy, as I called him. He was the Towncrier, +and one of those staunch, honest souls who make you +believe in the goodness of God and man no matter what +happens to shake the foundations of your faith.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor opened his eyes and looked up inquiringly, +startled by the knocking over of the stool on which +Dave had been sitting. He had risen abruptly and gone +inside the tent.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” he called back. “I can +hear you.” He seemed to be looking for something, +for he was striding up and down in its narrow space. +The Doctor raised his voice a trifle.</p> + +<p>“That’s all I had to say. I didn’t +intend to bore you talking about people and places +you never heard of. But it just came over me in a big +wave--that feeling of homesickness that makes you feel +you’ve got to get back or die. Did you ever +have it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” came the answer in an indifferent +tone. “Several times.”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s got me now, right by the throat.”</p> + +<p>Presently he called, “Dave, while you’re +in there I wish you’d look in my luggage and +see what newspapers are folded up with it. I have a +dim recollection that a _Provincetown Advocate_ +came about the time I was taken sick and I never opened +it.</p> + +<p>“Ah, that’s it!” he exclaimed when +Dave emerged presently, holding out the newspaper. +“Look at the cut across the top of the first +page. Old Provincetown itself. It’s more for +the name of the town printed across that picture of +the harbor than for the news that I keep on taking +the paper. Ordinarily, I never do more than glance +at the news items, but there’s time to-day to +read even the advertisements. You’ve no idea +how good those familiar old names look to me.”</p> + +<p>He read some of them aloud, smiling over the memories +they awakened. But he read without an auditor, for +Dave found he had business with one of the missionaries, +and put off to attend to it. On his return he was +greeted with the announcement:</p> + +<p>“Dave, I want to get out of here. I’m +sure there must be a big pile of mail waiting for +me right now in Hong-Kong, and I’m willing to +risk the trip. Let’s start back to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Several days later they were in Hong-Kong, enjoying +the luxuries of civilization in the big hotel. Still +weak from his recent illness and fatigued by the hardships +of his journey, Doctor Huntingdon did not go down +to lunch the day of their arrival. It was served in +his room, and as he ate he stopped at intervals to +take another dip into the pile of mail which had been +brought up to him.</p> + +<p>In his methodical way he opened the letters in the +order of their arrival, beginning with the one whose +postmark showed the earliest date. It took a long +time to finish eating on account of these pauses. Hop +Ching was bringing in his coffee when Dave came back, +having had not only his lunch in the diningroom, but +a stroll through the streets afterward. He found Doctor +Huntingdon with a photograph propped up in front of +him, studying it intently while Hop Ching served the +coffee. The Doctor passed the photograph to Dave.</p> + +<p>“Take it over to the window where you can get +a good light on it,” he commanded. “Isn’t +that a peach of a picture? That’s my little daughter +and the old friend I’m always quoting. The two +seem to be as great chums as he and I used to be. +I don’t want to bore you, Dave, but I would like +to read you this letter that she wrote to her mother, +and her mother sent on to me. In the first place I’m +proud of her writing such a letter. I had no idea +she could express herself so well, and secondly the +subject matter makes it an interesting document.</p> + +<p>“On my little girl’s birthday Uncle Darcy +took her out in his boat, _The Betsey_. +The name of that old boat certainly does sound good +to me! He told her--but wait! I’d rather read +it to you in her own words. It’ll give you such +a good idea of the old man. Perhaps I ought to explain +that he Had a son who got into trouble some ten years +ago, and left home. He was just a little chap when +I saw him last, hardly out of dresses, the fall I +left home for college.</p> + +<p><a href="images/image07.png"><img src="images/image07.png" align="right" alt="The Towncrier and his Lass" /></a>“Uncle Darcy and Aunt Elspeth were fairly foolish +about him. He had come into their lives late, you +see, after their older children died. I don’t +believe it would make any difference to them what he’d +do. They would welcome him back from the very gallows +if he’d only come. His mother never has believed +he did anything wrong, and the hope of the old man’s +life is that his ‘Danny,’ as he calls him, +will make good in some way--do something to wipe out +the stain on his name and come back to him.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor paused as if waiting for some encouragement +to read.</p> + +<p>“Go on,” said Dave. “I’d like +to hear it, best in the world.”</p> + +<p>He turned his chair so that he could look out of the +window at the harbor. The Chinese sampans of every +color were gliding across the water like a flock of +gaily-hued swans. He seemed to be dividing his attention +between those native boats and the letter when the +Doctor first began to read. It was Georgina’s +rainbow letter, and the colors of the rainbow were +repeated again and again by the reds and yellows and +blues of that fleet of sampans.</p> + +<p>But as the Doctor read on Dave listened more intently, +so intently, in fact, that he withdrew his attention +entirely from the window, and leaning forward, buried +his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. +The Doctor found him in this attitude when he looked +up at the end, expecting some sort of comment. He +was used to Dave’s silences, but he had thought +this surely would call forth some remark. Then as he +studied the bowed figure, it flashed into his mind +that the letter must have touched some chord in the +boy’s own past. Maybe Dave had an old father +somewhere, longing for his return, and the memory was +breaking him all up.</p> + +<p>Silently, the Doctor turned aside to the pile of letters +still unread. Georgina’s stern little note beginning +“Dear Sir” was the next in order and was +in such sharp contrast to the loving, intimate way +she addressed her mother, that he felt the intended +reproach of it, even while it amused and surprised +him. But it hurt a little. It wasn’t pleasant +to have his only child regard him as a stranger. It +was fortunate that the next letter was the one in +which she hastened to call him “a Saint-George-and-the-dragon +sort of father.”</p> + +<p>When he read Barbara’s explanation of his long +silence and Georgina’s quick acceptance of it, +he wanted to take them both in his arms and tell them +how deeply he was touched by their love and loyalty; +that he hadn’t intended to be neglectful of +them or so absorbed in his work that he put it first +in his life. But it was hard for him to put such things +into words, either written or spoken. He had left +too much to be taken for granted he admitted remorsefully +to himself.</p> + +<p>For a long time he sat staring sternly into space. +So people had been gossiping about him, had they? +And Barbara and the baby had heard the whispers and +been hurt by them----He’d go home and put a stop +to it. He straightened himself up and turned to report +his sudden decision to Dave. But the chair by the +window was empty. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder. +Dave had changed his seat and was sitting behind him. +They were back to back, but a mirror hung in such +a way the Doctor could see Dave’s face.</p> + +<p>With arms crossed on a little table in front of him, +he was leaning forward for another look at the photograph +which he had propped up against a vase. A hungry yearning +was in his face as he bent towards it, gazing into +it as if he could not look his fill. Suddenly his head +went down on his crossed arms in such a hopeless fashion +that in a flash Doctor Huntingdon divined the reason, +and recognized the resemblance that had haunted him. +Now he understood why the boy had stayed behind to +nurse him. Now a dozen trifling incidents that had +seemed of no importance to him at the time, confirmed +his suspicion.</p> + +<p>His first impulse was to Cry out “Dan!” +but his life-long habit of repression checked him. +He felt he had no right to intrude on the privacy +which the boy guarded so jealously. But Uncle Darcy’s +son! Off here in a foreign land, bowed down with remorse +and homesickness! How he must have been tortured with +all that talk of the old town and its people!</p> + +<p>A great wave of pity and yearning tenderness swept +through the Doctor’s heart as he sat twisted +around in his chair, staring at that reflection in +the mirror. He was uncertain what he ought to do. He +longed to go to him with some word of comfort, but +he shrank from the thought of saying anything which +would seem an intrusion.</p> + +<p>Finally he rose, and walking across the room, laid +his hand on the bowed shoulder with a sympathetic +pressure.</p> + +<p>“Look here, my boy,” he said, in his deep, +quiet voice. “I’m not asking you what +the trouble is, but whatever it is you’ll let +me help you, won’t you? You’ve given me +the right to ask that by all you’ve done for +me. Anything I could do would be only too little for +one who has stood by me the way you have. I want you +to feel that I’m your friend in the deepest +meaning of that word. You can count on me for anything.” +Then in a lighter tone as he gave the shoulder a half-playful +slap he added, “I’m _for_ you, +son.”</p> + +<p>The younger man raised his head and straightened himself +up in his chair.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t be!” he exclaimed, +“if you knew who I am.” Then he blurted +out the confession: “I’m Dan Darcy. I can’t +let you go on believing in me when you talk like that.”</p> + +<p>“But I knew it when I said what I did,” +interrupted Doctor Huntingdon. “It flashed over +me first when I saw you looking at your father’s +picture. No man could look at a stranger’s face +that way. Then I knew what the resemblance was that +has puzzled me ever since I met you. The only wonder +to me is that I did not see it long ago.”</p> + +<p>“You knew it,” repeated Dan slowly, “and +yet you told me to count you as a friend in the deepest +meaning of that word. How could you mean it?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor’s answer came with deep impressiveness.</p> + +<p>“Because, despite whatever slip you may have +made as a boy of eighteen, you have grown into a man +worthy of such a friendship. A surgeon in my position +learns to read character, learns to know an honest +man when he sees one. No matter what lies behind you +that you regret, I have every confidence in you now, +Dan. I am convinced you are worthy to be the son of +even such a man as Daniel Darcy.”</p> + +<p>He held out his hand to have it taken in a long, silent +grip that made it ache.</p> + +<p>“Come on and go back home with me,” urged +the Doctor. “You’ve made good out here. +Do the brave thing now and go back and live down the +past. It’ll make the old folks so happy it’ll +wipe out the heart-break of all those years that you’ve +been away.”</p> + +<p>Dan’s only response was another grasp of the +Doctor’s hand as strong and as painful as the +first. Pulling himself up by it he stood an instant +trying to say something, then, too overcome to utter +a word, made a dash for the door.</p> + +<p>Doctor Huntingdon was so stirred by the scene that +he found it difficult to go back to his letters, but +the very next one in order happened to be the one +Georgina wrote to her mother just after Belle had given +her consent to Barby’s being told of Emmett’s +confession. He read the latter part of it, standing, +for he had sprung to his feet with the surprise of +its opening sentence. He did not even know that Emmett +had been dead all these years, and Dan, who had had +no word from home during all his absence, could not +know it either. He was in a tremor of eagerness to +hurry to him with the news, but he waited to scan the +rest of the letter.</p> + +<p>Then with it fluttering open in his hand he strode +across the hall and burst into Dan’s room without +knocking.</p> + +<p>“Pack up your junk, this minute, boy,” +he shouted. “We take the first boat out of here +for home. Look at this!”</p> + +<p>He thrust Georgina’s letter before Dan’s +bewildered eyes.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_29"></a>Chapter XXIX</h1> +<h2>While they Waited</h2> + +<p>“There comes the boy from the telegraph office.” +Mrs. Triplett spoke with such a raven-like note of +foreboding in her voice that Georgina, practising +her daily scales, let her hands fall limply from the +keys.</p> + +<p>“The Tishbite!” she thought uneasily. +What evil was it about to send into the house now, +under cover of that yellow envelope? Would it take +Barby away from her as it had done before?</p> + +<p>Sitting motionless on the piano stool, she waited +in dread while Mrs. Triplett hurried to the door before +the boy could ring, signed for the message and silently +bore it upstairs. The very fact that she went up with +it herself, instead of calling to Barby that a message +had come, gave Georgina the impression that it contained +bad news.</p> + +<p>“A _cablegram_ for me?” she +heard Barby ask. Then there was a moment’s silence +in which she knew the message was being opened and +read. Then there was a murmur as if she were reading +it aloud to Tippy and then--an excited whirlwind of +a Barby flying down the stairs, her eyes like happy +stars, her arms outstretched to gather Georgina into +them, and her voice half laugh, half sob, singing:</p> + +<blockquote>“Oh, he’s coming home to me<br /> +Baby mine!”</blockquote> + +<p>Never before had Georgina seen her so radiant, so +excited, so overflowingly happy that she gave vent +to her feelings as a little schoolgirl might have +done. Seizing Georgina in her arms she waltzed her +around the room until she was dizzy. Coming to a pause +at the piano stool she seated herself and played, +“The Year of Jubilee Has Come,” in deep, +crashing chords and trickly little runs and trills, +till the old tune was transformed into a paen of jubilation.</p> + +<p>Then she took the message from her belt, where she +had tucked it and re-read it to assure herself of +its reality.</p> + +<p>“Starting home immediately. Stay three months, +dragon captured.”</p> + +<p>“That must mean that his quest has been fairly +successful,” she said. “If he’s +found the cause of the disease it’ll be only +a matter of time till he finds how to kill it.”</p> + +<p>Then she looked up, puzzled.</p> + +<p>“How strange for him to call it the _dragon_. +How could he know we’d understand, and that +we’ve been calling it that?”</p> + +<p>Georgina’s time had come for confession.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wrote him a little note after you told +me the story and told him I was proud of having a +Saint-George-kind of a father, and that we hoped every +day he’d get the microbe.”</p> + +<p>“You darling!” exclaimed Barbara, drawing +her to her for another impulsive hug. She did not +ask as Georgina was afraid she would:</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you tell me you were writing +to your father?” Barbara understood, without +asking, remembering the head bowed in her lap after +that confession of her encounter with the prying stranger +in the bakery.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Georgina asked:</p> + +<p>“Barby, what is the ‘Tishbite?’”</p> + +<p>“The what?” echoed Barby, wrinkling her +forehead in perplexity.</p> + +<p>“The Tishbite. Don’t you know it says +in the Bible, Elijah and the Tishbite----”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, dear, you’ve turned it around, +and put the and in the wrong place. It is ‘And +Elijah the Tishbite,’ just as we’d say +William the Norman or Manuel the Portuguese.”</p> + +<p>“Well, for pity sakes!” drawled Georgina +in a long, slow breath of relief. “Is that all? +I wish I’d known it long ago. It would have saved +me a lot of scary feelings.”</p> + +<p>Then she told how she had made the wish on the star +and tried to prove it as Belle had taught her, by +opening the Bible at random.</p> + +<p>“If you had read on,” said Barby, “you’d +have found what it meant your own self.”</p> + +<p>“But the book shut up before I had a chance,” +explained Georgina. “And I never could find +the place again, although I’ve hunted and hunted. +And I was sure it meant some sort of devil, and that +it would come and punish me for using the Bible that +way as if it were a hoodoo.”</p> + +<p>“Then why didn’t you ask me?” insisted +Barby. “There’s another time you see, +when a big worry and misunderstanding could have been +cleared away with a word. To think of your living +in dread all that time, when the Tishbite was only +a good old prophet whose presence brought a blessing +to the house which sheltered him.”</p> + +<p>That night when Georgina’s curls were being +brushed she said, “Barby, I know now who my +Tishbite is; it’s Captain Kidd. He’s brought +a blessing ever since he came to this town. If it +hadn’t been for his barking that day we were +playing in the garage I wouldn’t be here now +to tell the tale. If it hadn’t been for him +I wouldn’t have known Richard, and we’d +never have started to playing pirate. And if we hadn’t +played pirate Richard wouldn’t have asked to +borrow the rifle, and if he hadn’t asked we +never would have found the note hidden in the stock, +and if we hadn’t found the note nobody would +have known that Danny was innocent. Then if Captain +Kidd hadn’t found the pouch we wouldn’t +have seen the compass that led to finding the wild-cat +woman who told us that Danny was alive and well.”</p> + +<p>“What a House-That-Jack-Built sort of tale that +was!” exclaimed Barby, much amused. “We’ll +have to do something in Captain Kidd’s honor. +Give him a party perhaps, and light up the holiday +tree.”</p> + +<p>The usual bedtime ceremonies were over, and Barby +had turned out the light and reached the door when +Georgina raised herself on her elbow to call:</p> + +<p>“Barby, I’ve just thought of it. The wish +I made on that star that night is beginning to come +true. Nearly everybody I know is happy about something.” +Then she snuggled her head down on the pillow with +a little wriggle of satisfaction. “Ugh! this +is such a good world. I’m so glad I’m +living in it. Aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>And Barby had to come all the way back in the dark +to emphasize her heartfelt “yes, indeed,” +with a hug, and to seal the restless eyelids down +with a kiss--the only way to make them stay shut.</p> + +<p>Richard came back the next day. He brought a picture +to Georgina from Mr. Locke. It was the copy of the +illustration he had promised her, the fairy shallop +with its sails set wide, coming across a sea of Dreams, +and at the prow, white-handed Hope, the angel girt +with golden wings, which swept back over the sides +of the vessel.</p> + +<p>“Think of having a painting by the famous Milford +Norris Locke!” exclaimed Barby. She hung over +it admiringly. “Most people would be happy to +have just his autograph.” She bent nearer to +examine the name in the corner of the picture. “What’s +this underneath? Looks like number IV.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that means he’s number four in our +Rainbow Club. Peggy Burrell is number five and the +Captain is number six. That’s all the members +we have so far.”</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you going to count me in?” +asked Barby.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you _are_ counted in. You’ve +belonged from the beginning. We made you an _honary_ +member or whatever it is they call it, people who +deserve to belong because they’re always doing +nice things, but don’t know it. There’s +you and Uncle Darcy and Captain Kidd, because he saved +our lives and saved our families from having to have +a double funeral.”</p> + +<p>Barby stooped to take the little terrier’s head +between her hands and pat-a-cake it back and forth +with an affectionate caress.</p> + +<p>“Captain Kidd,” she said gaily, “you +shall have a party this very night, and there shall +be bones and cakes on the holiday tree, and you shall +be the best man with a ’normous blue bow on +your collar, and we’ll all dance around in your +honor this way.”</p> + +<p>Springing to her feet and holding the terrier’s +front paws, she waltzed him around and around on his +hind legs, singing:</p> + +<blockquote>“All around the barberry bush,<br /> +Barberry bush, barberry bush.<br /> +All around the barberry bush<br /> +So early in the morning.”</blockquote> + +<p>Georgina, accustomed all her life to such frisky performances, +took it as a matter of course that Barby should give +vent to her feelings in the same way that she herself +would have done, but Richard stood by, bewildered. +It was a revelation to him that anybody’s mother +could be so charmingly and unreservedly gay. She seemed +more like a big sister than any of the mothers of +his acquaintance. He couldn’t remember his own, +and while Aunt Letty was always sweet and good to +him he couldn’t imagine her waltzing a dog around +on its hind legs any more than he could imagine Mrs. +Martha Washington doing it.</p> + +<p>The holiday tree was another revelation to him, when +he came back at dusk to find it lighted with the colored +lanterns and blooming with flags and hung with surprises +for Georgina and himself.</p> + +<p>“You’ve never seen it lighted,” +Barby explained, “and Georgina’s birthday +had to be skipped because I wasn’t here to celebrate, +so we’ve rolled all the holidays into one, for +a grand celebration in Captain Kidd’s honor.”</p> + +<p>It was to shorten the time of waiting that Barbara +threw herself into the children’s games and +pleasures so heartily. Every night she tore a leaf +off the calendar and planned something to fill up the +next day to the brim with work or play. They climbed +to the top of the monument when she found that Richard +had never made the ascent, and stood long, looking +off to Plymouth, twenty miles away, and at the town +spread out below them, seeming from their great height, +a tiny toy village. They went to Truro to see the +bayberry candle-dipping. They played Maud Muller, raking +the yard, because the boy whom old Jeremy had installed +in his place had hurt his foot. Old Jeremy, being +well on toward ninety now, no longer attempted any +work, though still hale and hearty. But the garden +had been his especial domain too long for him to give +it up entirely, and he spent hours in it daily, to +the disgust of his easy-going successor.</p> + +<p>There were picnics at Highland Light and the Race +Point life-saving station. There were long walks out +the state road, through the dunes and by the cranberry +bogs. But everything which speeded Barbara’s +weeks of feverish waiting, hurrying her on nearer +her heart’s desire, brought Richard nearer ito +the time of parting from the old seaport town and the +best times he had ever known. He had kodak pictures +of all their outings. Most of them were light-struck +or out of focus or over-exposed, but he treasured +them because he had taken them himself with his first +little Brownie camera. There was nothing wrong or +queer with the recollection of the scenes they brought +to him. His memory photographed only perfect days, +and he dreaded to have them end.</p> + +<p>Before those weeks were over Richard began to feel +that he belonged to Barby in a way, and she to him. +There were many little scenes of which no snapshot +could be taken, which left indelible impressions.</p> + +<p>For instance, those evenings in the dim room lighted +only by the moonlight streaming in through the open +windows, when Barby sat at the piano with Georgina +beside her, singing, while he looked out over the sea +and felt the soul of him stir vaguely, as if he had +wings somewhere, waiting to be unfurled.</p> + +<p>The last Sunday of his vacation he went to church +with Barbara and Georgina. It wasn’t the Church +of the Pilgrims, but another white-towered one near +by. The president of the bank was one of the ushers. +He called Richard by name when he shook hands with +the three of them at the door. That in itself gave +Richard a sense of importance and of being welcome. +It was a plain old-fashioned church, its only decoration +a big bowl of tiger-lilies on a table down in front +of the pulpit. When he took his seat in one of the +high front pews he felt that he had never been in such +a quiet, peaceful place before.</p> + +<p>They were very early. The windows were open, and now +and then a breeze blowing in from the sea fluttered +the leaves of a hymn-book lying open on the front +seat. Each time they fluttered he heard another sound +also, as faint and sweet as if it were the ringing +of little crystal bells. Georgina, on the other side +of Barby, heard it too, and they looked at each other +questioningly. Then Richard discovered where the tinkle +came from, and pointed upward to call her attention +to it. There, from the center of the ceiling swung +a great, old-fashioned chandelier, hung with a circle +of pendant prisms, each one as large and shining as +the one Uncle Darcy had given her.</p> + +<p>Georgina knew better than to whisper in such a place, +but she couldn’t help leaning past Barby so +that Richard could see her lips silently form the +words, “Rainbow Club.” She wondered if +Mr. Gates had started it. There were enough prisms +for nearly every member in the church to claim one.</p> + +<p>Barby, reading the silent message of her lips and +guessing that Georgina was wondering over the discovery, +moved her own lips to form the words, “just +_honorary_ members.”</p> + +<p>Georgina nodded her satisfaction. It was good to know +that there were so many of them in the world, all +working for the same end, whether they realized it +or not.</p> + +<p>Just before the service began an old lady in the adjoining +pew next to Richard, reached over the partition and +offered him several cloves. He was too astonished +to refuse them and showed them to Barby, not knowing +what to do with them. She leaned down and whispered +behind her fan:</p> + +<p>“She eats them to keep her awake in church.”</p> + +<p>Richard had no intention of going to sleep, but he +chewed one up, finding it so hot it almost strangled +him. Every seat was filled in a short time, and presently +a drowsiness crept into the heated air which began +to weave some kind of a spell around him. His shoes +were new and his collar chafed his neck. His eyelids +grew heavier and heavier. He stared at the lilies +till the whole front of the church seemed filled with +them. He looked up at the chandelier and began to +count the prisms, and watch for the times that the +breeze swept across them and set them to tinkling.</p> + +<p>Then, the next thing that he knew he was waking from +a long doze on Barby’s shoulder. She was fanning +him with slow sweeps of her white-feathered fan which +smelled deliciously of some faint per-fume, and the +man from Boston was singing all alone, something about +still waves and being brought into a haven.</p> + +<p>A sense of Sabbath peace and stillness enfolded him, +with the beauty of the music and the lilies, the tinkling +prisms, the faint, warm perfume wafted across his +face by Barby’s fan. The memory of it all stayed +with him as something very sacred and sweet, he could +not tell why, unless it was that Barby’s shoulder +was such a dear place for a little motherless lad’s +head to lie.</p> + +<p>Georgina, leaning against Barby on the other side, +half asleep, sat up and straightened her hat when +the anthem began. Being a Huntingdon she could not +turn as some people did and stare up at the choir loft +behind her when that wonderful voice sang alone. She +looked up at the prisms instead, and as she looked +it seemed to her that the voice was the voice of the +white angel Hope, standing at the prow of a boat, its +golden wings sweeping back, as storm-tossed but triumphant, +it brought the vessel in at last to happy anchorage.</p> + +<p>The words which the voice sang were the words on which +the rainbow had rested, that day she read them to +Aunt Elspeth: _"So He bringeth them into their +desired haven."_ They had seemed like music then, +but now, rolling upward, as if Hope herself were singing +them at the prow of Life’s tossing shallop, +they were more than music. They voiced the joy of +great desire finding great fulfilment.</p> + +<p align="center"><a href="images/ch29-end.png"><img src="images/ch29-end.png" alt="end chapter image" /></a></p> + +<h1><a name="ch_30"></a>Chapter XXX</h1> +<h2>Nearing the End</h2> + +<p>“Old Mr. Potter has had a stroke.”</p> + +<p>Georgina called the news up to Richard as she paused +at the foot of the Green Stairs on her way to the +net-mender’s house.</p> + +<p>“Belle sent a note over a little while ago and +I’m taking the answer back. Come and go with +me.”</p> + +<p>Richard, who had been trundling Captain Kidd around +on his forefeet in the rôle of wheelbarrow, dropped +the dog’s hind legs which he had been using +as handles and came jumping down the steps, two at +a time to do her bidding.</p> + +<p>“Belle’s gone over to take care of things,” +Georgina explained, with an important air as they +walked along. “There’s a man to help nurse +him, but she’ll stay on to the end.” Her +tone and words were Tippy’s own as she made +this announcement.</p> + +<p>“End of what?” asked Richard. “And +what’s a stroke?”</p> + +<p>Half an hour earlier Georgina could not have answered +his question, but she explained now with the air of +one who has had a lifetime of experience. It was Mrs. +Triplett’s fund she was drawing on, however, +and old Jeremy’s. Belle’s note had started +them to comparing reminiscences, and out of their +conversation Georgina had gathered many gruesome facts.</p> + +<p>“You may be going about as well and hearty as +usual, and suddenly it’ll strike you to earth +like lightning, and it may leave you powerless to +move for weeks and sometimes even years. You may know +all that’s going on around you but not be able +to speak or make a sign. Mr. Potter isn’t as +bad as that, but he’s speechless. With him the +end may come any time, yet he may linger on for nobody +knows how long.”</p> + +<p>Richard had often passed the net-mender’s cottage +in the machine, and stared in at the old man plying +his twine-shuttle in front of the door. The fact that +he was Emmett’s father and ignorant of the secret +which Richard shared, made an object of intense interest +out of an otherwise unattractive and commonplace old +man. Now that interest grew vast and overshadowing +as the children approached the house.</p> + +<p>Belle, stepping to the front door when she heard the +gate click, motioned for them to go around to the +back. As they passed an open side window, each looked +in, involuntarily attracted by the sight of a bed drawn +up close to it. Then they glanced at each other, startled +and awed by what they saw, and bumped into each other +in their haste to get by as quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>On the bed lay a rigid form, stretched out under a +white counterpane. All that showed of the face above +the bushy whiskers was as waxen looking as if death +had already touched it, but the sunken eyes half open, +showed that they were still in the mysterious hold +of what old Jeremy called a “living death.” +It was a sight which neither of them could put out +of their minds for days afterward.</p> + +<p>Belle met them at the back door, solemn, unsmiling, +her hushed tones adding to the air of mystery which +seemed to shroud the house. As she finished reading +the note a neighbor came in the back way and Belle +asked the children to wait a few minutes. They dropped +down on the grass while Belle, leaning against the +pump, answered Mrs. Brown’s questions in low +tones.</p> + +<p>She had been up all night, she told Mrs. Brown. Yes, +she was going to stay on till the call came, no matter +whether it was a week or a year. Mrs. Brown spoke +in a hoarse whisper which broke now and then, letting +her natural voice through with startling effect.</p> + +<p>“It’s certainly noble of you,” she +declared. “There’s not many who would +put themselves out to do for an old person who hadn’t +any claim on them the way you are doing for him. There’ll +surely be stars in _your_ crown.”</p> + +<p>Later, as the children trudged back home, sobered +by all they had seen and heard, Georgina broke the +silence.</p> + +<p>“Well, I think we ought to put Belle’s +name on the very top line of our club book. She ought +to be an honary member--the very honaryest one of +all.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Richard. “You heard +all Mrs. Brown said. Seems to me what she’s +doing to give old Mr. Potter a good time is the very +noblest----”</p> + +<p>There was an amazed look on Richard’s face as +he interrupted with the exclamation:</p> + +<p>“Gee-minee! You don’t call what that old +man’s having a good time, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s good to what it would be if +Belle wasn’t taking care of him. And if she +does as Mrs. Brown says, ’carries some comfort +into the valley of the shadow for him, making his +last days bright,’ isn’t that the very +biggest rainbow anybody could make?”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” admitted Richard in a doubtful +tone. “Maybe it is if you put it that way.”</p> + +<p>They walked a few blocks more in silence, then he +said:</p> + +<p>“I think _Dan_ ought to be an honary +member.”</p> + +<p>It was Georgina’s turn to ask why.</p> + +<p>“Aw, you know why! Taking the blame on himself +the way he did and everything.”</p> + +<p>“But he made just as bad times for Uncle Darcy +and Aunt Elspeth as he made good times for Mr. Potter +and Emmett. I don’t think he has any right to +belong at all.”</p> + +<p>They argued the question hotly for a few minutes, +coming nearer to a quarrel than they had ever been +before, and only dropping it as they crossed to a +side street which led into the dunes.</p> + +<p>“Let’s turn here and go home this way,” +suggested Richard. “Let’s go look at the +place where we buried the pouch and see if the sand +has shifted any.”</p> + +<p>Nothing was changed, however, except that the holes +they had dug were filled to the level now, and the +sand stretched an unbroken surface as before the day +of their digging.</p> + +<p>“Cousin James says that if ever the gold comes +to the top we can have it, because he paid the woman. +But if it ever does I won’t be here to see it. +I’ve got to go home in eight more days.”</p> + +<p>He stood kicking his toes into the sand as he added +dolefully, “Here it is the end of the summer +and we’ve only played at being pirates. We’ve +never gone after the real stuff in dead earnest, one +single time.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” admitted Georgina. “First +we had to wait so long for your portrait to be finished +and then you went off on the yacht, and all in between +times things have happened so fast there never was +any time. But we found something just as good as pirate +stuff--that note in the rifle was worth more to Uncle +Darcy than a chest of gold.”</p> + +<p>“And Captain Kidd was as good as a real pirate,” +said Richard, brightening at the thought, “for +he brought home a bag of real gold, and was the one +who started us after the wild-cat woman. I guess Uncle +Darcy would rather know what she told him than have +a chest of ducats and pearls.”</p> + +<p>“We can go next summer,” suggested Georgina.</p> + +<p>“Maybe I won’t be here next summer. Dad +always wants to try new places on his vacation. He +and Aunt Letty like to move. But I’d like to +stay here always. I hate to go away until I find out +the end of things. I wish I could stay until the letter +is found and Dan comes home.”</p> + +<p>“You may be a grown-up man before either of +those things happen,” remarked Georgina sagely.</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll know I’ll be here to +see ’m,” was the triumphant answer, “because +when I’m a man I’m coming back here to +live all the rest of my life. It’s the nicest +place there is.”</p> + +<p>“If anything happens sooner I’ll write +and tell you,” promised Georgina.</p> + +<p>Something happened the very next morning, however, +and Georgina kept part of her promise though not in +writing, when she came running up the Green Stairs, +excited and eager. Her news was so tremendously important +that the words tumbled over each other in her haste +to tell it. She could hardly make herself understood. +The gist of it was that a long night letter had just +arrived from her father, saying that he had landed +in San Francisco and was taking the first homeward +bound train. He would stop in Washington for a couple +of days to attend to some business, and then was coming +home for a long visit. And--this was the sentence Georgina +saved till last to electrify Richard with:</p> + +<p>“_Am bringing Dan with me._”</p> + +<p>“He didn’t say where he found him or anything +else about it,” added Georgina, “only +‘prepare his family for the surprise.’ +So Barby went straight down there to Fishburn Court +and she’s telling Aunt Elspeth and Uncle Darcy +now, so they’ll have time to get used to the +news before he walks in on them.”</p> + +<p>They sat down on the top step with the dog between +them.</p> + +<p>“They must know it by this time,” remarked +Georgina. “Oh, don’t you wish you could +see what’s happening, and how glad everybody +is? Uncle Darcy will want to start right out with +his bell and ring it till it cracks, telling the whole +town.”</p> + +<p>“But he won’t do it,” said Richard. +“He promised he wouldn’t.”</p> + +<p>“Anyhow till Belle says he can,” amended +Georgina. “I’m sure she’ll say so +when ‘the call’ comes, but nobody knows +when that will be. It may be soon and it may not be +for years.”</p> + +<p>They sat there on the steps a long time, talking quietly, +but with the holiday feeling that one has when waiting +for a procession to pass by. The very air seemed full +of that sense of expectancy, of waiting for something +to happen.</p> + +<h1><a name="ch_31"></a>Chapter XXXI</h1> +<h2>Comings and Goings</h2> + +<p>Out towards the cranberry bogs went the Towncrier. +No halting step this time, no weary droop of shoulders. +It would have taken a swift-footed boy to keep pace +with him on this errand. He was carrying the news to +Belle. What he expected her to say he did not stop +to ask himself, nor did he notice in the tumultuous +joy which kept his old heart pounding at unwonted +speed, that she turned white with the suddenness of +his telling, and then a wave of color surged over +her face. Her only answer was to lead him into the +room where the old net-mender lay helpless, turning +appealing eyes to her as she entered, with the look +in them that one sees in the eyes of a grateful dumb +animal. His gaze did not reach as far as the Towncrier, +who halted on the threshold until Belle joined him +there. She led him outside.</p> + +<p>“You see for yourself how it is,” was +all she said. “Do as you think best about it.”</p> + +<p>Out on the road again the Towncrier stood hesitating, +uncertain which course to take. Twice he started in +the direction of home, then retraced his steps again +to stand considering. Finally he straightened up with +a determined air and started briskly down the road +which led to the center of the town. Straight to the +bank he went, asking for Mr. Gates, and a moment later +was admitted into the president’s private office.</p> + +<p>“And what can I do for you, Uncle Dan’l?” +was the cordial greeting.</p> + +<p>The old man dropped heavily into the chair set out +for him. He was out of breath from his rapid going.</p> + +<p>“You can do me one of the biggest favors I ever +asked of anybody if you only will. Do you remember +a sealed envelope I brought in here the first of the +summer and asked you to keep for me till I called for +it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, do you want it now?”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to show you what’s in +it.”</p> + +<p>He had such an air of suppressed excitement as he +said it and his breathing was so labored, that Mr. +Gates wondered what could have happened to affect +him so. When he came back from the vault he carried +the envelope which had been left in his charge earlier +in the summer. Uncle Darcy tore it open with fingers +that trembled in their eagerness.</p> + +<p>“What I’m about to show you is for your +eyes alone,” he said. He took out a crumpled +sheet of paper which had once been torn in two and +pasted together again in clumsy fashion. It was the +paper which had been wadded up in the rifle, which +Belle had seized with hysterical fury, torn in two +and flung from her.</p> + +<p>“There! Read that!” he commanded.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gates knew everybody in town. He had been one +of the leading citizens who had subscribed to the +monument in Emmett Potter’s honor. He could +scarcely believe the evidence of his own eyes as he +read the confession thrust into his hands, and he +had never been more surprised at any tale ever told +him than the one Uncle Darcy related now of the way +it had been found, and his promise to Belle Triplett.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to make it public while +old Potter hangs on,” he said in conclusion. +“I’ll wait till he’s past feeling +the hurts of earth. But Mr. Gates, I’ve had +word that my Danny’s coming home. I can’t +let the boy come back to dark looks and cold shoulders +turned on him everywhere. I thought if you’d +just start the word around that he’s all right--that +somebody else confessed to what he’s accused +of--that you’d seen the proof with your own +eyes and could vouch for his being all right--if _you’d_ +just give him a welcoming hand and show you believed +in him it would make all the difference in the world +in Danny’s home-coming. You needn’t mention +any names,” he pleaded. “I know it’ll +make a lot of talk and surmising, but that won’t +hurt anybody. If you could just do that----”</p> + +<p>When the old man walked out of the president’s +office he carried his head as high as if he had been +given a kingdom. He had been given what was worth +more to him, the hearty handclasp of a man whose “word +was as good as a bond,” and the promise that +Dan should be welcomed back to the town by great and +small, as far as was in his power to make that welcome +cordial and widespread.</p> + +<hr width="60%" size="1" /> + +<p>Dan did not wait in Washington while Doctor Huntingdon +made his report. He came on alone, and having missed +the boat, took the railroad journey down the Cape. +In the early September twilight he stepped off the +car, feeling as if he were in a strange dream. But +when he turned into one of the back streets leading +to his home, it was all so familiar and unchanged +that he had the stranger feeling of never having been +away. It was the past ten years that seemed a dream.</p> + +<p>He had not realized how he loved the old town or the +depth of his longing for it, until he saw it now, +restored to him. Even the familiar, savory smells +floating out from various supper tables as he passed +along, gave him keen enjoyment. Some of them had been +unknown all the time of his wanderings in foreign +lands. The voices, the type of features, the dress +of the people he passed, the veriest trifles which +he never noticed when he lived among them, thrilled +him now with a sense of having come back to his own.</p> + +<p>Half a dozen fishermen passed him, their boots clumping +heavily. He recognized two of them if not as individuals, +as members of families he had known, from their resemblance +to the older ones. Then he turned his head aside as +he reached the last man. He was not ready to be recognized +himself, yet. He wanted to go home first, and this +man at the end was Peter Winn. He had sailed in his +boat many a time.</p> + +<p>A cold fog was settling over the Court when he turned +into it. As silently as the fog itself he stole through +the sand and in at the gate. The front door was shut +and the yellow blind pulled down over the window, +but the lamp behind it sent out a glow, reaching dimly +through the fog. He crept up close to it to listen +for the sound of voices, and suddenly two blended +shadows were thrown on the blind. The old man was helping +his wife up from her rocking chair and supporting +her with a careful arm as he guided her across to +the table. His voice rang out cheerfully to the waiting +listener.</p> + +<p>“That’s it, Mother! That’s it! Just +one more step now. Why, you’re doing fine! I +knew the word of Danny’s coming home would put +you on your feet again. The lad’ll be here soon, +thank God! Maybe before another nightfall.”</p> + +<p>A moment later and the lamp-light threw another shadow +on the yellow blind, plain as a photograph. It was +well that the fog drew a white veil between it and +the street, for it was a picture of joy too sacred +for curious eyes to see.</p> + +<p>_Danny had come home!_</p> + +<hr width="60%" size="1" /> + +<p>It was the tenth of September. The town looked strangely +deserted with nearly all the summer people gone. The +railroad wharf was the only place where there was +the usual bustle and crowd, and that was because the +_Dorothy Bradford_ was gathering up its passengers +for the last trip of the season.</p> + +<p>Richard was to be one of them, and a most unwilling +one. Not that he was sorry to be going back to school. +He had missed Binney and the gang, and could hardly +wait to begin swapping experiences with them. But he +was leaving Captain Kidd behind. Dogs were not allowed +in the apartment house to which his father and Aunt +Letty intended moving the next week.</p> + +<p>There had been a sorry morning in the garage when +the news was broken to him. He crept up into the machine +and lay down on the back seat, and cried and cried +with his arms around Captain Kidd’s neck. The +faithful little tongue reached out now and then to +lap away his master’s tears, and once he lifted +his paw and clawed at the little striped shirt waist +as if trying to convey some mute comfort.</p> + +<p>“You’re just the same as folks!” +sobbed Richard, hugging the shaggy head, laid lovingly +on his breast. “And it’s _cruel_ +of ’em to make me give you away.” Several +days had passed since that unhappy morning, however, +and Richard did not feel quite so desolate over the +separation now. For one thing it had not been necessary +to give up all claim on Captain Kidd to insure him +a good home. Georgina had gladly accepted the offer +of half of him, and had coaxed even Tippy into according +him a reluctant welcome.</p> + +<p>The passengers already on deck watched with interest +the group near the gang-plank. Richard was putting +the clever little terrier through his whole list of +tricks.</p> + +<p>“It’s the last time, old fellow,” +he said implor-ingly when the dog hesitated over one +of them. “Go on and do it for me this once. Maybe +I’ll never see you again till I’m grown +up and you’re too old to remember me.”</p> + +<p>“That’s what you said about Dan’s +coming home,” remarked Georgina from under the +shade of her pink parasol. That parasol and the pink +dress and the rose-like glow on the happy little face +was attracting even more admiration from the passengers +than Captain Kidd’s tricks. Barbara, standing +beside her, cool and dainty in a white dress and pale +green sweater and green parasol, made almost as much +of a picture.</p> + +<p>“You talked that way about never expecting to +see Danny till you were grown,” continued Georgina, +“and it turned out that you not only saw him, +but were with him long enough to hear some of his adventures. +It would be the same way about your coming back here +if you’d just keep hoping hard enough.”</p> + +<p>“Come Dicky,” called Mr. Moreland from +the upper deck. “They’re about to take +in the gang-plank. Don’t get left.”</p> + +<p>Maybe it was just as well that there was no time for +good-byes. Maybe it was more than the little fellow +could have managed manfully. As it was his voice sounded +suspiciously near breaking as he called back over his +shoulder, almost gruffly:</p> + +<p>“Well you--you be as good to my half of him +as you are to yours.”</p> + +<p>A moment or two later, leaning over the railing of +the upper deck he could see Captain Kidd struggling +and whining to follow him. But Barby held tightly +to the chain fastened to his collar, and Georgina, +her precious pink parasol cast aside, knelt on the +wharf beside the quivering, eager little body to clasp +her arms about it and pour out a flood of comforting +endearments.</p> + +<p>Wider and wider grew the stretch of water between +the boat and the wharf. Richard kept on waving until +he could no longer distinguish the little group on +the end of the pier. But he knew they would be there +until the last curl of smoke from the steamer disappeared +around Long Point.</p> + +<p>“Here,” said the friendly voice of a woman +stand ing next to him. She had been one of the interested +witnesses of the parting. She thrust an opera-glass +into his hands. For one more long satisfying moment +he had another glimpse of the little group, still +faithfully waving, still watching. How very, very +far away they were!</p> + +<p>Suddenly the glass grew so blurry and queer it was +no more good, and he handed it back to the woman. +At that moment he would have given all the pirate +gold that was ever on land or sea, were it his to give, +to be back on that pier with the three of them, able +to claim that old seaport town as his home for ever +and always. And then the one thing that it had taught +him came to his help. With his head up, he looked back +to the distant shore where the Pilgrim monument reared +itself like a watchful giant, and said hopefully, +under his breath: “Well, _some day!_”</p> + +<hr width="60%" size="1" /> + +<p>Georgina, waking earlier than usual that September +morning, looked up and read the verse on the calendar +opposite her bed, which she had jead every, morning +since the month came in.</p> + +<blockquote>“Like ships my days sail swift to port,<br /> +I know not if this be<br /> +The one to bear a cargo rare<br /> +Of happiness to me.</blockquote> + +<p>“But I _do_ know this time,” +she thought exultingly, sitting up in bed to look +out the window and see what kind of weather the dawn +had brought. This was the day her father was coming +home. He was coming from Boston on a battleship, and +she and Barby were going out to meet him as soon as +it was sighted in the harbor.</p> + +<p>She had that quivery, excited feeling which sometimes +seizes travelers as they near the journey’s +end, as if she herself were a little ship, putting +into a long-wished-for port. Well, it would be like +that in a way, she thought, to have her father’s +arms folded around her, to come at last into the strange, +sweet intimacy she had longed for ever since she first +saw Peggy Burrell and the Captain.</p> + +<p>And it was reaching another long-desired port to have +Barby’s happiness so complete. As for Uncle +Darcy he said himself that he couldn’t be gladder +walking the shining streets of heaven, than he was +going along that old board-walk with Danny beside +him, and everybody so friendly and so pleased to see +him.</p> + +<p>Georgina still called him Danny in her thoughts, but +it had been somewhat a shock the first time she saw +him, to find that he was a grown man with a grave, +mature face, instead of the boy which Uncle Darcy’s +way of speaking of him had led her to expect. He had +already been up to the house to tell them the many +things they were eager to know about the months he +had spent with Doctor Huntingdon and their long trip +home together. And listening, Georgina realized how +very deep was the respect and admiration of this younger +man for her father, and his work, and, everything +he said made her more eager to see and know him.</p> + +<p>Uncle Darcy and Dan were with them when they put out +in the motor boat to meet the battleship. It was almost +sunset when they started, and the man at the wheel +drove so fast they felt the keen whip of the wind as +they cut through the waves. They were glad to button +their coats, even up to their chins. Uncle Darcy and +Dan talked all the way over, but Georgina sat with +her hand tightly locked in her mother’s, sharing +her tense expectancy, never saying a word.</p> + +<p>Then at last the little boat stopped alongside the +big one. There were a few moments of delay before +Georgina looked up and saw her father coming down +to them. He was just as his photograph had pictured +him, tall, erect, commanding, and strangely enough +her first view of him was with his face turned to +one side. Then it was hidden from her as he gathered +Barby into his arms and held her close.</p> + +<p>Georgina, watching that meeting with wistful, anxious +eyes, felt her last little doubt of him vanish, and +when he turned to her with his stern lips curved into +the smile she had hoped for, and with out-stretched +arms, she sprang into them and threw her arms around +his neck with such a welcoming clasp that his eyes +filled with tears.</p> + +<p>Then, remembering certain little letters which he +had re-read many times on his homeward voyage, he +held her off to look into her eyes and whisper with +a tender smile which made the teasing question a joy +to her:</p> + +<p>“Which is it now? ‘Dear Sir’ or +‘Dad-o’-my heart?’”</p> + +<p>The impetuous pressure of her soft little cheek against +his face was answer eloquent enough. As they neared +the shore a bell tolled out over the water. It was +the bell of Saint Peter, patron saint of the fisher-folk +and all those who dwell by the sea. Then Long Point +lighthouse flashed a wel-come, and the red lamp of +Wood End blinked in answer. On the other side Highland +Light sent its great, unfailing glare out over the +Atlantic, and the old Towncrier, looking up, saw the +first stars shining overhead.</p> + +<p>Alongshore the home lights began to burn. One shone +out in Fishburn Court where Aunt Elspeth sat waiting. +One threw its gleam over the edge of the cranberry +bog from the window where Belle kept faithful vigil--where +she would continue to keep it until “the call” +came to release the watcher as well as the stricken +old soul whose peace she guarded. And up in the big +gray house by the break-water, where Tippy was keeping +supper hot, a supper fit to set before a king, lights +blazed from every window.</p> + +<p>Pondering on what all these lights stood for, the +old man moved away from the others, and took his place +near the prow. His heart was too full just now to +talk as they were doing. Presently he felt a touch +on his arm. Georgina had laid her hand on it with +the understanding touch of perfect comradeship. They +were his own words she was repeating to him, but they +bore the added weight of her own experience now.</p> + +<p>“It _pays_ to keep Hope at the prow, +Uncle Darcy.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, lass,” he answered tremulously, +“it does.”</p> + +<p>“And we’re coming into port with all flags +flying!”</p> + +<p>“_That_ we are!”</p> + +<p>She stood in silent gladness after that, the rest +of the way, her curls flying back in the wind made +by the swift motion of the boat, the white spray dashing +up till she could taste the salt of it on her lips; +a little figure of Hope herself, but of Hope riding +triumphantly into the port of its fulfillment. It +was for them all--those words of the old psalm on +which the rainbow had rested, and which the angel voice +had sung--“_Into their desired haven_.”</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + +End of Project Gutenberg's Georgina of the Rainbows, by Annie Fellows Johnston + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEORGINA OF THE RAINBOWS *** + +This file should be named 7807-h.htm or 7807-h.zip + +Produced by Curtis A. Weyant + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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