The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Den, by E. M. Waterworth This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: Our Den Author: E. M. Waterworth Release Date: July 7, 2019 [EBook #59872] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR DEN *** Produced by Al Haines "THERE APPEARED THREE FIGURES, DRIPPING FROM HEAD TO FOOT." (p. 18.) OUR DEN BY E. M. WATERWORTH, Author of "Master Lionel, That Tiresome Child," etc. LONDON: S. W. PARTRIDGE & CO. 9, Paternoster Row. CHAPTER I. The Savages are Expected CHAPTER II. They Arrive—Unexpectedly CHAPTER III. Our Den is Fortified CHAPTER IV. Fish or Fowl for Supper CHAPTER V. Tied to the Bell Buoy CHAPTER VI. Punishment and Escape CHAPTER VII. The Mysterious Visitor CHAPTER VIII. The Oak Chest CHAPTER IX. The Mystery Deepens CHAPTER X. How the Stranger Helped CHAPTER XI. A Day of Surprises CHAPTER XII. The Lost Will OUR DEN. CHAPTER I. The Savages are Expected. "I think it is our duty, John." "Stuff and nonsense. How can it be our duty to turn our house into a bear-garden for the sake of a lot of young savages? Let them spend their holidays at school." I was reading, as I generally was in those days, but the word "savages" made me look up. It was fun reading about such people, but I was not at all sure that I should care to see even one alive, and here was father talking about a lot of them. Mother laughed merrily. Somehow, she generally did laugh when other people would have cried; and I know now that it was mother's merry laugh that made the sunshine of our home. "Why, John, how can you make savages into bears? They would not even hug you if you looked as fierce as you do now." Then glancing towards my little sofa, mother's face became sweetly grave as she added in a low voice, "Besides, dear, we should like people to be good to Edric if we were not here; and, after all, they may do him good. You know the London doctor said he would have more chance of getting strong if he had plenty of play with brothers and sisters, instead of always having a book in his hand." The colour came to my face, and I turned hot and cold all over, while I listened for father's answer. It was about six months since they had taken me to London to see a famous physician, and I had never heard them mention what he had said about me. I was the only child, and, owing to a fall downstairs when I was quite a tiny trot, there was a slight curvature in my spine. I did not know what was the matter then, but I knew that I was not like other children. I dreaded the noise which my few friends made in the room when they came to see me. I had lived in an iron frame for about two years; and when I was taken out of it, and was supposed to be allowed to walk a little, the desire to move had gone. My parents did not like to urge me, and so six months passed away and I was still carried from room to room, still lay reading most of the day, and was quietly content. It was only now and then that mother's anxious look at me told that she was not satisfied; father and I seemed to have made up our minds that I was to be an invalid for the rest of my life, so I listened anxiously for his answer to mother's remark about the doctor. "Do you really think it would do the boy good to be tormented by a lot of rough, strong children? Then let them come, but keep them out of my sight. I hate noise almost as much as Edric does." "I had settled all that, dear, before I ever spoke to you about it. There's the tower room—it is big and airy, and right at the top of the house—I thought they should have that for their playroom." "You'd better call it their den at once," said father, leaning over my shoulder to read the title of my book. "There are about twenty panes of glass in it now. I wonder how many whole ones there will be when the holidays are over. How do you like the idea of the invasion of the savages, my boy?" he added, in the tender tone in which he always addressed me. "Who are they, father?" I asked, laying my thin white hand in his brown, strong one. "Your Uncle George's children, dear. He sent them to school at Bath, and intended to be in England for their summer holidays, but he was prevented from leaving Sydney just at the last minute; and your Aunt Mary has written to ask if we will let them all spend the time here. There are four of them, three boys and a girl who is as big a boy as any of them, I believe. What do you think of it, Edric?" "I think I shall like seeing Cousin Kathleen," I said, rather shyly; even with my parents it was rather difficult for me to speak my thoughts. "She has often sent nice messages to me, and this is the book-marker she made for me. Perhaps she will read to me, and show me how to play chess." "We will burn all those books, lad," said father, sweeping a little heap off my sofa to the floor. "Let me carry you out to see the high tide." "Not just now, father, please," I said, cuddling the last remaining book in my arms. "I want to see what becomes of Rupert in the Redskins' camp." "That's good," said father, laughing heartily. "Your eldest cousin's name is Rupert, and we shall soon be wanting to know what becomes of Edric in Rupert's den." "When are they coming?" I asked, with a faint trembling at my heart. Mother had taught me to be kind in my thoughts of every one, but I began to be a little afraid of these stranger cousins. "They may be here next week; but I am not sure what day the school breaks up." "Well, I will go and see about getting the tower room ready," said mother, when father had gone out to look at a new horse which he had bought for the farm. "Do you want anything before I go, darling?" "No, thank you, mother." As she bent down to kiss me before she left me, mother looked longingly into my face. "I believe you look better already, dear. Don't you think that—— Why, darling, what's the matter; there are tears in your eyes." Of course it was silly for a boy of twelve to begin to cry because his cousins were coming to stay with him, but I feel bound to let you know the whole truth about myself. I couldn't possibly say what I was crying for, but I suppose that I was in a weak and morbid state. "You'll love me still, mother, won't you," I whispered, clinging to her neck; "and you won't let them make me do anything I don't want to?" Poor mother! If I had only known, that was just the very reason she wanted my cousins to come; but she comforted me, and promised faithfully I should be left to myself as much as I liked. "They will have their den, as your father calls it, and you needn't go in it unless you like. Now I will go and see about getting it ready. It will want brightening up a bit. Nobody has ever used it since I have lived here, and that is nearly fourteen years. Good-bye, dear; don't read too much." She had her hand on the door before I could summon courage to speak what was in my mind. "I've never been in the tower room, mother. Do you think I might go with you, just to see it before they come?" CHAPTER II. They Arrive—Unexpectedly. There was a joyous ring in my dear mother's voice as she called out of the window for father to carry me upstairs; and I noticed that they both looked at each other with a satisfied nod as I was deposited on a long Rattan chair, which, with the exception of a great oak chest, was the only piece of furniture in the den. It was a glorious day in July. The tower room was almost walled with glass on three sides, and looking out I saw such a view as I had never imagined could be seen from our own house. In front of me I could gaze across the field to the back-water of the river which made our farm into an island at high tide; beyond that, again, lay a narrow neck of land, then the main stream, which, running to the left, widened and widened till it entered into the sea. Across the river were some few houses of a small seaside town, and beyond those houses I knew was the sea; the open sea on which I had never been but once. I knew that summer after summer yachts sailed from the pier at Craigstown round the Eagle Point, and up the river to the old watermill, or from the mill to the pier. Sometimes I would watch the tops of the sails from my bedroom window; but I could see little more, and never wished to be in the vessels. Here in the tower room I could see the whole course of the river when mother dragged my chair to the different windows, and I exclaimed, "Oh! I am glad I came, mother: doesn't the water look lovely?" "Yes, darling, it is a very high tide to-day. If you look down there to the right of that large tree you will see that our road to Craigstown is quite covered up. They may well call this Island Farm; you would have to swim across the little stream whichever way you wanted to go now. Now, Edric, you can help me; tell me what I shall put in this room to make it nice for your cousins. Remember, their parents are thousands of miles away, and we must try to make them happy. Fancy how you would feel if you were in Australia without me." I didn't fancy it at all; but I know what mother meant, and suggested that first one thing and then another should be brought upstairs. There was my tool chest—of course I should never use it; it was such a funny thing for father to give me. I did not realize that he had bought it hoping to rouse me to try to use some of the tools. There was a box of lovely stone bricks. I could play with them, and used to enjoy making designs out of my own head, which pleased my parents and made them prophesy that I should be an architect some day. There were paint boxes and puzzles. There was even a fishing rod and a landing net; I almost laughed when mother brought them up from a cupboard in my room. "It seems a pity that father should buy me such things, doesn't it, mother?" I said, and then I felt sorry. Mother came across the room to me, and said softly, "You see, dear, the London doctor said he quite hoped that you would be able to get about like other children some day, though you would always have a little twist in your back, which would prevent you being as straight and strong as they are. Your father loves you so, that he cannot bear to think you ore different from others; and so he keeps giving you things just as if you were well and strong, hoping that some day you will be able to use them. Now where shall I put this flag?" You would not believe what a change mother made in the room. By dinner time it looked quite pretty; and I was actually so hungry that I was glad when the dinner bell sounded, and father came up the creaky stairs two at a time to carry me down. "I think the change of rooms has done you good, laddie," he said, as he took me in his arms. "You had better have that Rattan chair moved, Mary," he added to my mother; "there won't be much of it left by September if you don't." "Oh, don't move it, please, father," I said. "It will do so nicely for me to lie in when I go there." "So it's going to be your den as well as theirs, is it, young man? And, pray, what do you think we shall feel like when we come into this room and see your empty sofa?" Glancing at father, to see how much he meant, I fancied that there was a merry twinkle in his eye. At all events, I am certain that we had a brighter dinner than we generally had, and I remember particularly that I asked for a second helping of meat. "What shall I bring you from Colchester?" said father, after dinner. "I am going to try the new mare, and I'll bring you back anything you like to name up to five shillings." "There's a new book of Kingston's, father—I forget the title—if you wouldn't mind getting that. I have nearly finished Rupert and the Redskins." "Oh, no more books," said father, impatiently. "I'd like to burn the lot of them. I'd rather buy you a cricket bat. There, don't look miserable, laddie. You shall have the book, but I'd give a five-pound note to hear you say, 'Take me with you in the dog-cart.' Now, good-bye. I shan't be starting for another hour, till the tide is down, but I don't suppose you will see me again before I go. Shall I send a telegram to Bath to say the youngsters can come? Perhaps they will like to look forward to it. And is there anything else you want, to rig up their den?" We both laughed, and mother said something about believing father would be delighted to see the savages after all. "Oh! I don't care, as long as you keep them out of my way. I'll bring them a couple of boxes of soldiers; that's sure to keep them quiet for a time." "Girls don't like soldiers," I remarked. "Don't they, though, if they have half a dozen brothers and no sister. I suppose you'd like me to buy Miss Kathleen a workbox, and she wouldn't know which finger to put the thimble on, I'll be bound. What on earth is that?" Well might he ask. A succession of shouts and yells, interspersed with loud "C-o-o-e-e, c-o-o-e-e," disturbed the usual placid silence which reigned on a summer afternoon in our island farm, especially when the tide was up, and we were cut off from the mainland. Angry expostulations from some of the labourers followed; and then, to our utter amazement, there appeared on the lawn at our open window three figures, dripping from head to foot. CHAPTER III. Our Den is Fortified "Stand back! Stand back!" shouted father, as the boys made straight for our new carpet. "Who in the world are you?" "Don't you know us, uncle?" said the eldest, shaking the water from him like a Newfoundland dog. "The old fellow drove us from Colchester station, and actually wanted us to wait the other side of that stream till the tide went down. It wasn't likely we should do that, was it? So we just walked through. Kathleen got her shoe stuck in the mud, but she's coming along presently. Now, aren't you glad to see us, uncle?" There was something irresistible in the impudent, freckled face turned up to father's; and although my first thought was that Rupert was decidedly ugly, I soon came to see that there was the beauty of goodness in eyes and mouth and general expression. Mother was the first to regain her self-possession. "You naughty children," she said, stepping out on the lawn, "you will catch your death of cold, and I suppose you haven't even got any other clothes to put on. Edric's won't fit any of you but Harold." "Don't you fret, auntie," said Jack, who had been capering about, and leaving little rivulets of water wherever he went. "We don't think anything of wet clothes, we just run about till they are dry." "But where's your box?" said father. "It's the other side of the water," said Rupert, laughing; "I know now what King John felt like when he lost all his luggage in the Wash. We lost half our things in the wash at school, and now we've lost the other half in your Wash. My word, hasn't the tide gone down quick! The old fellow was right after all. Why, it's only up to Kathleen's ankles now. Here she comes, shoes and all. Ugh! go away, you horrid, wet girl." A well-aimed shoeful of water went over Jack's head, and then with a queer, uneven step, due to having one shoe off and one on, my Cousin Kathleen advanced to greet my father and mother. "What do you think of that, Uncle John?" she said, putting her dry arm round his neck. "Those naughty boys left me to get on as well as I could with one foot stuck in the mud; but I'll pay them out. Ah, there's Cousin Edric," and there was such a change in the merry face, that a glow of pleasure spread over mine. "We know each other already, don't we, dear? Isn't it lovely to think that we are going to be here six whole weeks? Can't you really walk, Edric?" There was something so very funny in the whole scene, the dripping boys outside, the girl with hat thrown back and tumbled, curly hair, with skirts wet to the waist, and one shoe in her hand, that I burst out laughing. Of course, everyone joined, and it was thus that we received the savages into our home circle. But mother now interposed, and marched them all off to their bedrooms, while father sent a man in one of the carts to fetch the boxes, which the Colchester fly- driver had so unceremoniously deposited on the other side of the stream. We found out in the course of time, that the boys' school had been suddenly closed, owing to the death of the master's wife. My cousins had heard from their father that they would probably spend the summer holidays with us, and the master had thought it best to send them straight to us, taking their sister with them. The telegram which should have prepared us for their arrival, came about half an hour after we were all sitting down to tea. What a tea that was! Father was, of course, away, having merely looked in to say good-bye to me and whisper, "Don't let the young rogues tire you, laddie; they can go upstairs to their own room. I shall be back in time to carry you to bed if you stop up a little later than usual." Kathleen took me under her wing at once. Her chair must be next to my sofa, and she must hand me everything I wanted. We were all ready; I had taken one or two bites of bread and butter, and saw to my surprise that none of my cousins had begun eating. "Why are you waiting?" asked mother. "For grace," said Jack, the second boy. We had always been accustomed to say grace before and after dinner, but it never seemed to have entered our heads to say it at any other meals. I glanced at mother. "Say it then, dear," she said, kindly, and Rupert said it; then they fell to and made a hearty tea. From that day forward we never forgot to give thanks for every meal which was put before us. I don't think I ate much, for I was laughing so heartily. It was quite a new phase of life to me, and my cousins seemed so possessed with the spirit of fun that it was quite infectious. "Now, auntie, where's our den?" said Rupert, when tea was over. "Father had a den in Sydney. He called it his den, but it was the jolliest place in the house, except——" "Except when Rupert went into a rage and hit Harold, then father told him to meet him in his study, and you should have seen Rupert's face," interposed Jack. "Rupert ran away and hid under the tank," continued Kathleen, with a broad smile on her face. "The clergyman was staying with us, and he went to fish him out. Rupert saw him coming, and cried out, 'I say, Mr. Wilson, is father after you, too?' You should have heard them laugh. Of course Rupert didn't get his caning, so father's den is still the jolliest place in the house." "And so will ours be," was the general shout as they filed upstairs behind mother. The sunshine seemed gone out of the room when they left it. I tried to go on with my reading, but I found myself listening for any sound from the tower room. It was too far away, however, for me to hear anything but the loud bang of the door at the bottom of the little staircase, so I was obliged to go back to my book with a sigh. It was not likely strong, healthy, rackety children would want poor sickly little me. "Bo! Twopence for your thoughts, Edric. Oh, did I hurt you? I didn't know you would be really frightened. What's the matter?" "It's nothing," I said, hastily, trying to breathe quietly again, and smiling at Rupert. "You see I am so used to being alone that a sudden noise makes me jump." "I'm sorry," said Rupert, sitting on the edge of my sofa, and swinging his legs so violently that he almost made my teeth chatter. "What pretty hair you've got, Edric. It is all wavy like mother's, and just the same colour. You'd have made a splendid girl. There, now, I've hurt you again, and I didn't mean to either. You'll be a big man and a clever one some day, I expect; anyway, no one can call you carrots as they do me. Halloa, Kathleen, what do you want?" "Let's carry Edric upstairs," said Kathleen; "he can tell us where to find things;" and, before I could say yes or no, they had taken me in their arms, so carefully, so tenderly, that after the first moment I was quite happy. "There, captain," said Jack, as they pulled the long chair into the middle of the room. "Now we want your orders. This is our castle, but what is a castle without fortifications? You might as well have a plum pudding without any plums! We've got to barricade this place, so that the enemy can't get in unless we wish it." "But if they can't get in, we can't get out," I said, hastily. "Of course we can, you owl! What's the good of lovely windows like those, with old ivy climbing outside? I've been down to the garden already that way," said Harold. "But Edric can't go in and out of the window," said Kathleen; "and I don't think I should care to very often; it is rather awkward with petticoats. Let us fortify the castle, but we must do it so that we can go in and out if we wish. Now, captain, tell us where to find wood." There was plenty to be had in the outhouses, and they worked so hard that they had made several rough defences for door and window before it was dark, and mother came up anxiously to look for me. "How ever did you get up here, darling?" she asked. "By the same way that he's going back, auntie," and as Rupert spoke my two cousins raised me in their arms and carried me as carefully as if I were made of egg-shell china. CHAPTER IV. Fish or Fowl for Supper. It would take too long to tell you of all the things which happened in our den. Little bits of fun which would sound nothing to you, were great events in my life. I had lived so long on my invalid couch that both griefs and joys were intensified to me. I was too young to think such things; but if I had been older I should have asked myself very often, "Is this the same me that used to lie reading for hours, and never left his sofa if he could help it?" Why, I actually had forgotten to see what became of Rupert among the Redskins. My four cousins were all so busy making the most of their holidays that I didn't seem to have time to breathe. Whatever they did, Edric must at least look on—if he would help, so much the better; so it ended in my seeing very little of my parents. Father still persisted in refusing to let the young savages have meals with him, though I felt sure, from the look he gave them when he happened to peep in our room, that he was getting to like them; and I overheard him once say to mother: "Our laddie looks fatter and brighter; I suppose it's those young scamps' doings. I wish they had come before." "I'm sure they have done him good," said mother, heartily; "and they have done no harm to anyone, in spite of all the mischief you prophesied." "Wait and see," said father, grimly. "That young Jack reminds me of a volcano; it looks quiet enough one minute, but it may swallow you up the next. If they get through the holidays without an eruption, I'll give them a sovereign between them when I drive them to Colchester." Sudden news from London took father away that very evening, and hastened the explosion which he had prophesied. "Now, what shall we do this afternoon?" said Rupert the next day, when dinner was over and I had been carried by my two faithful bearers into the den. "I vote we go fishing," said Jack, proceeding to inspect my fishing rod and line. "We have been here a fortnight and haven't been fishing once. What do you say, captain? Shall we be like the monks who hid in the old water mill, and fish for our dinner? What's the matter? you look quite glum." "Of course he does," said Kathleen; "he doesn't wish to be left alone. I'll stay with you, Edric." "Why shouldn't he go, too?" suggested Harold. "It's a regular tub of a boat, rather different from the one we had at Sydney." "Perhaps your river was rather different from ours," I said, colouring at the slight cast upon my father's boat. "You forget that this is a tidal river; there's only a small part of it fit for a boat at all at low water, and if there's much wind it runs like a racehorse just past our back-water to the bay." "All right, captain, we beg your boat's pardon, and as it is so big we will make good use of it. You shall come out fishing with us," said Rupert, marching out of the room as if he considered that his word was law, instead of mine. I know I was very naughty, but I had perfect confidence in my two bearers; and when Kathleen had tried to find mother all over the house and failed, I let my wishes silence my conscience and said, "All right, I'll come if you will put me in carefully; but mind, I don't know anything about boating." "Oh, Rupert knows enough for all of us. Father says he can manage a boat as well as he can. Let's get some food out of our cupboard and start at once." Our den was always well provided with eatables, so there was no difficulty on that score, and the dread of being stopped at the last moment made me hurry them all as much as possible. I was quite relieved when Rupert appeared with my hat and a plaid. "We'll take this in case it gets cool. Now, then, Kathleen. Heave ahoy!" I was carried down those stairs more rapidly than I had ever been before. I shut my eyes and bit my lips to avoid showing how frightened I was. When I looked up I was in the bottom of the boat. Harold, with loving thoughtfulness, had put in some cushions, and I felt as comfortable as on my sofa. "Push her off, Jack." Jack did it skilfully, and sprang in just as my heart came into my mouth for fear he should fall into the water. "Hurrah!" they all cried, at the top of their voices, but my cheer was a feeble one; I had caught sight of something in the bows, and if there is one thing I have hated all my life it is a gun. "What have you got that for?" I said to Rupert. "Always best to have two strings to your bow, captain. If Jack can't catch any fish, then I'll shoot something; we must have either fish or fowl for supper to-night." "Did mother say you might have it?" Jack made a grimace, and said something about Rupert not being half as stupid as he looked; but I soon forgot all about the gun in my enjoyment of the water. Rupert and Harold rowed well together, and Kathleen steered till we came to the main stream, when Jack put out his line. If fish can hear and understand, they certainly must have thought that there never was a noisier crew come out to look for them. We laughed till we couldn't laugh any more, and our rowers had to rest on their oars to recover strength to pull them. "Just look!" said Jack, suddenly. "There's a tiny footmark. I should think that fellow wears nineteens." "Hold hard a minute, and let us trace them," said Rupert, leaning over the side. "Talk of footprints in the snow, they are not half as beautiful as footprints in the mud under the river." He guided the boat skilfully, so that we followed the steps, till they went up the bank on the side nearest Craigstown. "The old fellow comes from there, then; I wonder where he goes, and where he comes from. It's a queer sort of place to choose for an afternoon walk. Halloa, what's that? Push off quick, Jack, or we shall stick, and on the wrong side, too." "HE WAS THROWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE BOAT." Jack sprang up, and put the oar down with a force which sent the boat out into the current again, but the next instant he fell. He had overreached himself, the oar stuck, and he was thrown to the bottom of the boat. There was consternation in every face for a moment. Rupert was the first to recover himself. "Take that stretcher, Jack, and see what you can do to help me. You will pull stronger than Harold. I'll just turn her round and go home." It was very easy to say, but impossible to do; pull as they would they could only get the boat half round, so that she was more than ever in the power of the stream. I looked at Kathleen anxiously. She was as white as her frock. "The tide has turned," she cried, "and we are going out to sea." CHAPTER V. Tied to the Bell Buoy. I expect I fainted, for when I looked at Kathleen again she was bathing my face and hands with sea water, and the shores were ever so much farther off than they had been. "Oh, Edric, what shall we do? What will uncle and aunt say? Are you better now? What is the time, Rupert?" "Half-past four," said Rupert. "The tide runs out six hours, so we can't be back any way before midnight." "Then I vote we have something to eat," said Jack, as usual the first to recover himself. "I say, Rupert, is it any good fagging away with that oar to keep her in the middle of the stream? Don't you think we might as well let her run aground?" Rupert was standing in the bows, guiding the boat as they do the gondolas in Venice, and looked tired and anxious. "I think we ought to go on," he said, quietly. "Edric has never been on the water but once, and I want to get him home. If we get stranded we are bound to stay till the tide comes up and floats us, and then there's a doubt whether we can get this heavy tub home with one oar. I think our best chance is to go down with the stream, till we get into the bay. Perhaps a boat will pass, and take us round to Craigstown." "We could easily drive home from there at low water," said I, trying to speak cheerily, though I felt fearful. What a different party we were then, as the boat went swiftly down the river, widening and widening every moment. "Now, captain, your eyes are good, whatever your legs and arms may be. Just keep a sharp look out, and shout 'Ship, ahoy!' the instant you see anything." "What's that?" cried Harold, suddenly. "I heard a bell. I say, isn't it getting rough; don't pitch me overboard, please. You'd better sit down, Rupert, or you'll take a header. There's no one here to fish you out, and there isn't a towel on board. Stewardess, you'll please to take a month's notice for forgetting them." With such little jokes we tried to hide the fear which sat heavily on every heart. "There it is again," said Kathleen, looking eagerly around. "It sounds like a bell." I raised myself on my elbow. "It must be the bell buoy," I exclaimed. "I have heard father talk about it. It is a great big buoy, painted red and white. There's a bell on the top, and four hammers which swing up against it with the waves." "Is there danger there?" said Rupert, standing up again, and grasping his oar. "Not for us, I think. I almost forget; but I think father said it was put to show the steamers their course when they are up the Chiswell to Barford." "What! is there another river up there? No wonder we have such a tossing. There's the bell again—we must be getting nearer to it. There it is. Ship, ahoy! Why didn't you shout, captain?" We were making straight for the bell buoy, but I saw that we were also making straight for the open sea. In an instant a prayer came to my lips, and I said aloud: "Oh, God, show us what we ought to do." Like a direct answer from Heaven, which we all believed it was, Kathleen said, "Tie the boat to the buoy, Rupert." In the excitement, eager to help, eager to see, I raised myself to my knees, and then dropped back; I had never done so much in my life before. It was a terrible moment of suspense, and then Rupert almost fell into Kathleen's arms. "Bravo!" she cried; "you've done it, darling." He had tied the painter skilfully round the iron frame which supported the bell. "Yes, it's done, dear; the question is, how long will the rope last. It isn't like being moored to a tree at the side of a river. Oh! I'm tired, I must rest a moment; you two look out, and signal if you see any vessel." As he spoke he kicked something. "What a set of idiots we are," said Jack, crawling carefully along the bottom of the boat, which was pitching in a manner fearful to describe. "Here's the gun; let's fire it till someone sees us." A bang, a flash, a sharp pain in my hand, and a cry of misery. Shall I ever forget those few minutes? I didn't know where I was hurt at first; but the marvel was we were not all turned into the sea as my cousins rushed to me. If our boat had not been, as Jack said, a regular old tub, you would never have read this tale, for I should never have written it. The bullet had just grazed my left hand and carried away my little finger. Of course, I have missed it very often since, and groaned over the pain then; but if I had to go through that afternoon's experience again, I would certainly still let that bullet work its mischief. Care for me, staunching the blood, and tearing handkerchiefs into strips to stop the circulation at the wrist, which idea I had gathered from various books of war and bloodshed, all took time and distracted our thoughts for a while from the danger which threatened us all. "I see a boat!" said Harold, with a gasp of joy. "Give me the gun, quick," cried Rupert. "Don't be frightened, Edric; I won't hurt you. It is our only hope." Bang, bang, bang—three shots in the air as quickly as possible. "DON'T BE FRIGHTENED, EDRIC. IT IS OUR ONLY HOPE." "She sees us, she's turning this way," we cried, with voices in which tears and joy struggled for the mastery. But we were not yet out of danger. Even as we uttered that cry, we gave another. "Look! the rope is broken. We are adrift!" CHAPTER VI. Punishment and Escape. It was ten o'clock when we were driven through the gates of our home. Father had only just returned from London, so he had been spared the long hours of agony which mother had passed after missing us at the usual tea hour. What a miserable party we must have looked as one by one we got out of the cart. Of course, I was last; and as father lifted me in his arms, he caught sight of my hand, which had been bandaged by the doctor at Craigstown, and was now in a sling. "It's only my little finger, father," I said; "I shan't miss it." Then I remembered that, of course, he knew nothing that had happened, and said no more. No prisoners in the dock ever felt more wretched than we did, as we stood in the dining-room wondering what would be our fate. My gentle mother came to the rescue. "I'm sure you must all be starved; eat your supper first, and then tell us what you have been doing." I tried to eat; but every mouthful seemed to choke me, and mother's sorrowful look at my maimed hand, and tenderly whispered words of love were almost too much for me to bear. I felt how wicked I had been to give her such pain as she must have borne since she went upstairs and found our den empty, then heard from one of the farm labourers that he had seen us in the boat. My cousins were stronger in mind and body than I was; and although they looked conscience-stricken enough, they managed to eat a hearty supper. When the things were cleared away, father put down his newspaper, and called us to account. "Now, what have you to say for yourselves?" he asked, in a stern voice. I looked up and began to speak, but Rupert stepped forward and silenced me. "I'm the eldest," he said, "and all the blame is mine. I'll tell you about it, sir." Something in the honest face, now pale with fatigue and excitement, yet made noble by its fearless expression, seemed to touch us all. "You'd better sit down," said father, less sternly; but Rupert took no notice. With eager words, which seemed to come rushing out, he described our adventures as far as you know them. "When the rope broke," he continued, "I thought it was all up with us. Edric fainted for the second time, and I thought he was dead. I knelt down then and prayed God to forgive me for what I had done, and let me die, too, and to take the others safe home; but the fishing smack came along almost directly, and one of the sailors caught hold of our boat. They lifted us all into their boat; and we lay down amongst the fishes and nets and lines, and went to sleep, I believe, till they landed us at Craigstown pier. One man, Philip they called him, took Edric to the doctor to have his hand done. It had begun bleeding again almost directly we got in the boat; but Philip bound it up splendidly. Then we got into that cart, and here we are. I don't know what you mean to do to us, uncle; but I'd like to tell you we are all bitterly sorry, and will go back to school tomorrow if you wish it." "That won't put Edric's finger on again, or cure his back if you have hurt it by those hours of exposure. Do you know he hardly ever goes out except in the long perambulator, which is pushed as gently as possible?" "Please, uncle," said Jack, who had been fretting at the long silence to which Rupert had condemned him, "I don't think we did him any harm, except about his finger. He knelt up in the boat once." "Perhaps you'll try to make me believe that he can do better with nine fingers than ten. Well, you can go to bed now. I cannot send you back to school because Mr. Barton has gone abroad and there is no one there, so you will have to remain here for the rest of the holidays. You have prepared means of barricading your tower-room; I shall use them on the outside instead of your using them on the inside. You will be locked in there for two days. Your meals will be brought to you, and you will be let out to go to bed; but until Thursday night you are my prisoners; and I expect you to be honourable ones." Father glanced at Rupert as he spoke; but Rupert made no sign. "Will Edric come, too?" asked Kathleen. "Not exactly. I think he has been punished enough. You will not see Edric till you are released from prison. You can all go now; good-night." With bent heads and dejected steps my cousins left the room, but mother went after them; and I heard afterwards that she did not say good-night to them till she had joined them in asking God's forgiveness, and in thanking Him for the great mercy shown to us all. What a wretched day the next one was for me. I could not read, and I hardly felt inclined to talk even to mother. I thought of the prisoners in the tower-room, and wondered what they were doing. The day was so long, and my hand was rather painful, so that at last when tea-time came I felt quite cross and miserable. "Don't you think I might go upstairs for a few minutes," I said to mother when she came in with her bonnet on; "it's so dull." "I am sorry, darling, I must go out, but I shall not be gone more than half-an-hour. Here's a book you have not read. The time will soon pass, and you will be able to go upstairs again; but you must not disobey father." I did try to read, but I could not. I was not quite happy, because I felt that there was something unfair in my cousins being punished and my being let off with only a finger less. At last I turned round on my sofa and had what Jack called "a little weep." A light touch on my shoulder startled me—Jack stood by my side. "Oh Jack! how could you?" I whispered; "you have broken your word of honour." "That's what Rupert says, so he is sticking up in that room, fretting himself to fiddle strings. I never promised anything, and so I'm not bound to stay there. I nearly broke my neck corning down, my foot caught in the ivy. But what do you think I found out? There's a regular ladder up to one of the windows on the side that looks towards the water- mill." "A ladder! Nonsense; how could a ladder be there without our seeing it?" "Oh! you matter-of-fact creature. I don't mean a ladder of wood or a ladder of rope thirty yards long. I found that there were little places cut in the bricks just to put your toes in. I counted six of them; but there was a noise, and I didn't dare to count any more. How are you, old man? They all want to know badly; they seem to think we had almost killed you, but I know better—I believe we did you good. I must go now; if uncle found me here he'd eat me." "Wait a minute. What did you say about those steps? I wonder whether—— Do you know both our servants left last year because they said the place was haunted? Of course it was all rubbish, because there are no such things as ghosts, but nothing that mother could say would make them happy; they said if it wasn't ghosts it was burglars or smugglers, and off they went." "What a joke!" said Jack, standing close to the window; "that's the way the ghost went up and down, then. Hush! who in the world is that? There's somebody in white creeping among the rhododendron bushes. I'm off. Cooee, cooee!" The Australian cry sounded weird enough, and I gasped for breath as I saw Jack's figure disappear at full speed among the rhododendrons. An instant afterwards there was a scream, and then dead silence. CHAPTER VII. The Mysterious Visitor. If any one had told me I was a coward, I should have been very indignant, and I think rightly so; but I must confess that I lay and trembled, as I looked through the open window, and wondered who had screamed and what was the matter. The steps in the wall, the white figure skulking among the bushes, and finally the scream; was that not enough material wherewith to make a very nice little chapter of horrors? Never had I so much regretted my helplessness. If I had only been able to walk, nothing would have prevented my going upstairs and telling Rupert that I thought Jack had got into trouble; as it was, I could only exercise my brains for some other way to let him know. Mother came in just then, and exclaimed at my white face. That was the best thing that could have happened. I made her promise not to get Jack into further trouble, and then I told her all about it. She went into the garden at once, and found him lying on the ground writhing with pain, with his foot caught in a man-trap, which he had himself found in the loft the day before, and put in the path out of mischief, and then forgotten to remove it. Cautioning him not to struggle, for he would only make the pain greater and get more firmly fixed, she ran to find father, who came with some men to release the prisoner. "FATHER CAME WITH SOME MEN TO RELEASE THE PRISONER." Father then carried him into the room where I was lying, and put him on a sofa near me. "It has broken your ankle, I'm afraid," he said, examining Jack's foot carefully. "Send George for the doctor at once, Mary." Then poor father walked up and down the room as if he were worried almost out of his mind. "I was after the ghost," said Jack, presently, in a timid voice; "I was creeping behind him, and was just close up when my foot was gripped by that thing. I believe I screamed once; if so, he heard me, and won't come again." "Don't talk such nonsense," said mother, who had returned by this time. "There are no such things as ghosts." "Of course, I know that," said Jack, recovering a little of his usual spirit. "The ghost I was after wore a white mackintosh coat and a pair of big sailor's boots. I wonder—oh, Edric, do you remember the footmarks in the mud?" "What of them?" said father, sternly. "Do you remember, young gentleman, that you are a prisoner, and have no business at all out of that room; and here you are with a broken ankle talking nonsense about ghosts and footmarks in the mud. Why did you leave the tower when I told you not to do so?" "For two reasons, uncle. First, I wanted to see Edric. You see we all like Edric, and we felt——" a little pause, and Jack seemed to choke; "we felt sorry about yesterday. I dreamt of fingers all night, uncle, indeed I did—covered with blood, too." "Go on," said father, gravely. "Well, we wanted to know how Edric was. The servant who brought our meals was as dumb as any old monk who had promised never to speak, so we couldn't get anything out of her. I was standing by the window at about eight o'clock, wondering whether I dared climb down the ivy and run round to the dining-room to see Edric, when all of a sudden I saw something moving in the bushes. I put my head out without saying a word to the others, who were all busy writing to tell father and mother how naughty we have been; and what do you think I saw? A man, in a white coat and sailor's slouch hat, beginning to climb up the ivy. I waited till he had got half-way up, and then I sneezed; like this." Jack sneezed so naturally that we all laughed. "That's the way I get the windows shut at school if it's cold. Mother told Mr. Barton to be particularly careful that we didn't catch cold; so when we want the windows shut I just keep on sneezing till he does it." "What happened next?" asked father, speaking in his natural manner for the first time since our escapade. Jack's sensitive nature felt the change at once. "You should have seen him," he said, brightly. "He dropped down like a cat, and bolted." "Did he look up?" "I don't know. I took my head in quick, for fear he might owe me one if he should ever see me again. I waited a minute, and then climbed down after him. I couldn't see him anywhere, so I went to look at Edric." Now, although I have told you all that my cousin said without any breaks, you must remember he had a broken ankle, and many times he stopped in great pain in the middle of a sentence. Father noticed this; and as soon as he had heard all that he required, he put his hand on Jack's head and told him to lie quietly till the doctor came. "You can't think of all the dreadful things I was going to do to you," he said. "You will learn some day that everything we do wrong brings its own punishment. It does not come perhaps directly, as Edric's lost finger and your broken ankle did; but it does come, my boy." "But he wanted to help you, father," I said, hastily, sorry that my hero should be looked upon as a culprit. "That was right enough, laddie; but he set to work the wrong way. It is no use doing evil that good may come; good never does come in the end from such work. He should have obeyed me first, and helped me afterwards." It was a bit of a puzzle to me then; but now that I am older, I know that father was right. As it was, I am afraid that I was not as grieved about Jack's broken ankle as I should have been. For the next few days, at all events, I knew he would be my constant companion, for he would lie on the sofa near me. Nothing more was said by my parents about our mysterious visitor, though, of course, Jack and I were never tired of talking about him. We made him out to be everything in turns, from a Russian nobleman to a London burglar in disguise. Thursday evening came, and brought welcome release to the other prisoners in the tower-room; and on Friday morning my two bearers came and carried me off to the den, where we talked till it was a wonder our tongues did not ache. They had heard nothing about the cause of Jack's accident, and great was their amazement when they were told of the stranger who knew so well the way to the tower-room. "How long is it since this room was used?" asked Rupert. "It has never been used that I can remember," I replied. "Mother thought it would make a good playroom for you because it is so far away. When I first came into it with her, it was thick with dust, and had nothing in it but that oak chest and this chair." "Then I'll be bound that man knows more about it than you do," said Rupert. "You'll find out some day; I only hope it will be whilst we are here." Chapter VIII headpiece CHAPTER VIII. The Oak Chest. The mysterious visitor was forgotten, my hand had healed, and Jack's ankle was in a fair way to recovery, when a letter arrived from Mr. Barton to say that, owing to his wife's death, he felt he could not return to Bath. He had taken a house at Brighton, but the necessary business of moving would make it impossible for him to receive his pupils at the time fixed. He hoped, therefore, that my father would not object to keeping the boys a fortnight longer. With what a shout the letter was welcomed! I glanced anxiously at father; he did not look half as displeased as I thought he would. "Can you make yourselves happy till the beginning of September?" he asked. "Just give us the chance, uncle. We will let you see what we can do. But what about Kathleen? We can't let her go before us?" Rupert looked at me with a mysterious sign. "No, please father, don't send her away yet. I want her particularly." "Mischief again?" said father, just catching my knowing look across at Kathleen. "I should have thought you had enough of getting into trouble by this time." "It isn't mischief, father," I cried. "It's good, it's a beautiful secret, it's——" then I broke down and burst into tears. It was only then, I think, that my parents realized that I had not done such a thing lately. "Why, laddie," said father, soothing me gently, "I haven't seen any tears since the invasion of the Goths and Vandals. Here, young Alaric, carry him off, and bring back the smiles. Of course, Kathleen shall stay as long as you do, but I warn you"—and here father's face became very grave—"you have risked my son's life once, you had better not do it twice." Harold was going to make some reply; but Rupert put his hand hastily over his mouth, and swung him out of the room before he and Kathleen came to lift me. Whether it was that his foot was much better, or that Jack was delighted at the thought of spending a fortnight more than he expected at the Island Farm, I do not know; but he seemed that day to be possessed of twice his usual spirits. Of course, he was not allowed to put his foot to the ground; but it was cased in plaster of Paris, and he managed to hop with the help of a stick if he really wished to move. "Now, commodore," said I, at...