When birthdays come, we always writeOur names upon the nursery door,And carefully we mark the height,Each standing shoeless on the floor.How strange to think birthdays will beWhen we shall never add one moreTo all those marks which graduallyAre climbing up the nursery door!
When birthdays come, we always writeOur names upon the nursery door,And carefully we mark the height,Each standing shoeless on the floor.
How strange to think birthdays will beWhen we shall never add one moreTo all those marks which graduallyAre climbing up the nursery door!
A narrow opening high on an oak-covered hill; a cluster of women, girls, and boys, each carrying a slight iron bar connecting two oil lamps; a crowd of tourists of many nationalities—all waiting to enter the Grottoes of Han. Presently the guide arrives, and delivers a brief speech as to the possible consequences should visitors deface or purloin the treasures of the cave, demanding silence during his explanations, and declaring that one light-bearer would accompany every four persons. He ceases, and away we go. Down, down, down, apparently into the very heart of the earth, through damp and chilly air and profound darkness, broken only by the glimmer of the friendly lamps. Then we cease descending, and emerge in a cavern where the lights are flashed upon thousands of fossilised insects, and on into the 'Hall of the Foxes,' where countless generations of their species lived, died, and were buried. After this the great caverns succeed each other rapidly, each with some special interest of its own, until we find ourselves in the 'Hall of the Trophies,' where electric light is installed to exhibit the marvels of the roof. A thick fringe of stalactites, many of immense size, descend to meet the columns of stalagmite ascending from the floor.
Right through the caverns, a distance of nearly two miles, a rough path has been made which is fairly dry and clean, but on either side are rivers and banks of mud, so that it is well to be careful and watch the way. Once as we went along we heard behind us a splashing thud, and, turning, beheld a portly Belgian floundering on his back in the mire, whence he presently emerged, coated with mud, looking rather like a hippopotamus. No rule of silence could avail to stifle the peals of laughter that rang through the grotto, and we had the less scruple in enjoying the fun because any one of us might at any moment have the happiness of similarly amusing his or her fellow-creatures.
Our merriment ended before the wonders of the 'Hall of Mystery,' where the electric light travelled round to show 'The Mosque,' standing out in glittering points of light; 'The Curtain,' a veil of gleaming lacework in stone; and 'The Alhambra,' furnished royally with every combination of diamond-like crystals. It would be easy to invent names for most of the objects, for shrines, pulpits, thrones, and such-like are everywhere carved, of dazzling whiteness and richness of design.
Next we enter the gloomy magnificence of the 'Hall of the Dome,' where the roof towers up two hundred feet into the darkness. As we ascend the steep path we turn and see below the gleam of water. This is the subterranean river Lesse, the architect of these gloomy grottoes, which until some forty years ago had heard no voice save that of the water hammering and chiselling the rocks at its own sweet will. Legend declares these stately halls to be the palaces of the little Brown Dwarfs, who, issuing from their homes at night, by counsel and more practical aid enabled the early builders to produce the wonderful edifices of Bruges, Ypres, and other Flemish cities.
Still we go on, up and down through grotto after grotto of marvellous beauty; sometimes along the banks of the shadowy river, reflecting in its depths the fairylike beauties of roof and wall, then up high, narrow ridges or down into the depths of inky blackness, until at last we find ourselves in the 'Hall of Embarkation.' Here a small wooden platform projects over the river, and near it are a number of large boats capable of carrying all our party. The boats push off, all lights are extinguished, and the sensation of total darkness in such conditions is more weird than pleasant. We are told that the water is of unknown depth, and it takes some confidence to repress thoughts of collisions and perils by water of various kinds.
The Grottoes of Han in the Ardennes.The Grottoes of Han in the Ardennes.
The boats move on in solemn procession, and soon a tiny speck of light appears, and grows gradually larger and brighter. By degrees the light pervades dimly roof, walls, and transparent water, and then, all in a moment, a flood of glorious sunshine gleams through the lofty portal which we are approaching. Behind us fringes and bosses of stalactite are tinged with the warm glow, and stand out in bold relief from the darkness; before us the banks are green with grassy slopes and waving trees; below us the river dances along in the sunlight as if full of joy at escaping from prison, and we too share its happiness as we float back into our every-day world from the gloomy glories of the Grottoes of Han.
Helena Heath.
"Jacintha was off her machine at once.""Jacintha was off her machine at once."
For the next hour I felt extremely miserable, but, remembering that I should, in all probability, see Jacintha to-morrow, I began to wish it were possible to do something to improve my appearance for the occasion. For not only were my clothes in a far from satisfactory condition, but the soles of my boots were full of holes, so that one stocking touched the ground.
There was nothing to do but wander about and look at the chickens until I was summoned to supper, which consisted of bread and very strong cheese.
On being shown to the bedroom, I found that it contained two beds, in one of which a small boy wasalready reposing. Although he seemed to watch me with considerable curiosity, he made no attempt at conversation; but it was a very noisy house, and I found it impossible to get to sleep for some time.
When my room-fellow awoke me at about six o'clock the following morning, the sun was shining brightly into the shabby room, so that this promised excellently for the day's tramp. I said my prayers, and having washed, dressed, and partaken of a somewhat scanty breakfast, wondering, as I ate, what had by this time become of Patch, I set out, at a little after half-past seven, in the direction of Hazleton.
Presently, passing through a village, which seemed to be on the outskirts of the town of Hazleton, I bought two penny sausage rolls at a small baker's shop, and asked for a glass of water. As I walked on, eating the rolls, it soon became evident that the town was close at hand. At intervals I passed large houses, standing in their own grounds, and carefully I read the names on their gate-posts, lest one should be Colebrook Park. The path, which had been almost indistinguishable from the roadway, was now asphalted, and I stopped to read a notice board concerning vagrants, wondering whether I ought to be reckoned under that denomination. I do not know whether the sun had affected me—for it shone with brilliant force that morning—or whether I was tired after my ten miles' walk without much food, but as I drew near to Hazleton, which I had formerly felt so anxious to reach, my usual spirits seemed to forsake me, and, if it had not been for the necessity to return the locket, I think I should have passed on my way without making the least attempt to see Jacintha again.
I seemed to have lost pride in myself, so that it became difficult to keep up much hope. Perhaps it might be possible to get the locket safely into Jacintha's hands without seeing her, especially if there happened to be a lodge at the entrance to Colebrook Park, when I might leave the trinket with the lodge-keeper.
With the object of making up my mind, I lay down on the wide border of grass on one side of the road, thankful for the shelter of the hedge. It was about half-past twelve, and several carriages passed as I lay there, as well as a few bicyclists. But now the straight, wide road was clear; no one was in sight, either to the right or to the left, until, from a gate a hundred yards away, in the direction of the town, a girl on a bicycle came forth, and I knew at once that she must be Jacintha.
She wore a wide-brimmed, white straw hat, and a white cotton frock, and was sitting very upright as she turned and coasted on her free-wheel machine down the slight hill towards me. For an instant I thought of turning away my face, so that, even if she remembered it, she should not recognise me; but she looked so bright and pleasant an object in the middle of the sunny road that, on the impulse of the moment, I rose to my feet, crossed the margin of grass, and lifted the cloth cap which had been given to me before I reached Polehampton.
Jacintha was off her machine at once. 'Why,' she cried, 'you are the boy who ran away!'
'My name is Everard, you know,' I answered.
'But I thought you said you were going to London?' she suggested.
'So I am.'
'It is not the nearest way from where you were to come through Hazleton,' said Jacintha.
'You see,' I explained, thrusting my fingers into my waistcoat pocket, 'I came to bring back your locket,' and I held it out towards her in the palm of my right hand.
'My locket?' she said, gazing at it while she held the handle of her bicycle.
'Yes,' I answered. 'I found it on the path just by the hedge where you were standing.'
'But I did not bring a locket with me from London,' she exclaimed, and I felt immensely disappointed.
'Isn't it really yours, then?' I asked.
'Of course not,' she returned. 'How can it be if I didn't bring one?' and then she removed one hand from the bicycle, and took the locket from my palm, which I wished had not been so extremely grimy. 'I think it is very pretty,' she continued, 'and I believe it is gold.'
'Oh, it is gold right enough!' I said, 'because it has a hall-mark. It is eighteen carat.'
'Have you come out of your way just because you thought it was mine?' she asked, giving me back the trinket.
'It was not very far,' I persisted.
'Rather nice of you, though,' said Jacintha.
'If it comes to that,' I answered, 'you were rather nice to me that day. Some girls would have given me away, and then I should have been back at Ascot House before now.'
As I was speaking, she took a small gold watch from her pocket.
'I must not be late,' she cried, 'because both Dick and I were late for breakfast.'
'Who is Dick?' I asked, as she put away her watch.
'Dick is my brother,' Jacintha explained. 'He only came down yesterday. Dick's a year older than I am. I really ought to go,' she added. 'If my uncle were to see me talking to you he mightn't like it.'
'I suppose,' I cried a little angrily, 'he would think I was begging?'
'At all events,' said Jacintha, candidly, 'he would be rather surprised, you know. Because you do look most tremendously dirty—just as if you were a regular tramp—and yet your face would be all right if it were only washed and you had your hair properly cut.'
I felt that my cheeks were growing red, and for the moment I was tempted to make an angry retort, although, remembering what I owed to Jacintha, I simply held out my hand and muttered 'Good-bye!'
'Oh, you mustn't go on yet,' she exclaimed. 'I want to hear all you've been doing. I must go in now, but please promise to wait till I come out again. I won't be long.'
'I am not in a hurry,' I admitted.
'Only don't stay here,' she said. 'Wait till I am out of sight, and then follow me until you come toour hedge. Right in the corner you will find a place you can get through, and nobody ever comes to that field. You get through the hedge and stay till I come back.'
I stood in the road while Jacintha mounted her bicycle and rode up the slight hill to the gate, when she looked back and waved her hand as she turned into the grounds. Having waited a few minutes, I followed her directions, found the weak spot in the hedge, scrambled through, and at once sat down on the grass.
I saw I was in a remote corner of a large field, in which a few Jersey cows were grazing. But this was not quite an ordinary field, as it contained a good many foreign trees with iron railings round them. It was more like a park. In the middle stood a small mound, looking as if it had been made artificially, with a kind of arbour on the top overgrown with some sort of creeper and shut in by trees.
The time seemed to pass very slowly, but at last I saw the flash of Jacintha's white dress in the sunshine as she walked rapidly towards my corner, the house not being visible from where I sat. To my vexation, however, she was not alone. A few yards behind came a boy of about my own age and size, with a straw hat on the back of his head, a red-and-blue blazer thrown over his white cricket shirt, and his hands thrust in the pockets of his flannel trousers.
While Jacintha tripped quickly over the grass, her companion, who, no doubt, was her brother, seemed to follow far less cheerfully. I could not help thinking there was something unwilling, almost resentful, in his manner, so that I felt prepared to pay him back in his own coin. Although I might look as dirty and as much like a tramp as Jacintha had suggested, I was not going to stand any nonsense.
When they reached the arbour they came to a standstill and seemed to be holding an argument, until, a few minutes later, Jacintha tossed back her long hair and set forth at a run in my direction, whereupon I went to meet her.
'You didn't mind my bringing Dick?' she suggested, looking doubtfully into my face.
'Have you told him, then?' I asked.
'I told him yesterday,' she said. 'I mean I told him about seeing you in the wheat-field, and your running away from school, and when I just had time to whisper that I had met you before lunch, he said I must not come; but I told him I had promised, and then he said he would come too.'
By this time we were within a few feet of Dick, who looked all right, although he seemed to think a great deal of himself. He was fair, like Jacintha, and he did not take his hands out of his pockets, so I put my hands into my pockets also, and stared at him as hard as he stared at me.
'Dick!' cried Jacintha, 'this is Everard.'
'Well, look here,' he answered, 'if you don't want to be collared, you had better come in, instead of standing out here all day.'
(Continued on page 125.)
The Cuban anolis is one of a large family of lizards, all of which are confined to America and the West Indian islands. This family is nearly related to that of the iguanas; but whereas some of the iguanas attain a length of five or six feet, the anolis is always small. It is a remarkably active little creature, and often singularly beautiful, offering a striking contrast to the ugly and sluggish horned lizards of North America and Mexico. It is usually rather more than a foot long, and its general colour is a beautiful green. It has a white throat, and a white band passing over each shoulder and for some distance along each side. The little creature has the power of puffing out its throat, and distending it till it looks like a ball upon its neck. When it is irritated, angry, or alarmed, it invariably blows out its throat in this way, and tries to frighten its enemy by this means. Most of these lizards have also more or less power of changing their colour, like the chameleon, and, indeed, a few of them can out-rival the chameleon in this respect.
A striking peculiarity of this lizard is the structure of its toes. They are rather long, and furnished with sharp hooked claws, and the last joint is swollen out into a kind of pad. At first sight we should be inclined to think that these little swellings near the tips of the toes would be rather an inconvenience to the anolis, by impeding its movements. But a closer examination shows that these curious growths have a use. They act to some extent as suckers, and enable the anolis to climb the perpendicular faces of rocks, or even to hang from the under side of a branch.
The males of these little lizards are often very quarrelsome, especially at certain times of the year, when two of them rarely meet without having a fight. They fly at each other furiously, rolling over and over, and biting savagely. These fierce battles generally end in one of the combatants losing his tail, for in these lizards, as in many others, the tail is not very strongly attached to the body. The victor sometimes makes off with the tail of his foe in his mouth, and sometimes he even devours it. The loss of his tail is a great blow to the vanquished anolis, for he seems to have a great pride in it. When he is deprived of it, he accepts defeat at once, and though he recovers from the injury without much trouble, he is generally but a timid and crest-fallen creature afterwards. He seems to look upon the loss of his tail as a disgrace—very much, perhaps, as a regiment of soldiers regards the loss of its colours.
Another pretty little Cuban lizard is the chameleon-eyed lizard. It is of a brownish colour spotted with white, especially about the head. It has many resemblances to the anolis just described, being small, slender, and active. Both frequent trees, thickets, and rocky places, where they run and climb with such quickness as to be sometimes easily mistaken for birds hopping to and fro. The numerous tropical insects are their usual food, varied occasionally by berries and fruits.
W. A. Atkinson.
Cuban Lizards.Cuban Lizards.
"The rabbit bit the stoat in the most infuriated manner.""The rabbit bit the stoat in the most infuriated manner."
Not long ago a gentleman heard of a remarkable fight between a stoat and a rabbit; he gives an account of it in theFieldnewspaper. His gardener was walking in an orchard when he heard a scuffling and squealing on the other side of a hedge. He looked over, and to his great surprise, saw a rabbit in close pursuit of a stoat. Just as they reached the hedge the rabbit caught up with its enemy, but the stoat hid in the hedge for a few seconds, and then ran along it swiftly, escaping the rabbit's notice for a few minutes. Then it rushed out into the field again, some thirty yards from where it had entered the hedge. Its object soon became clear. 'It pulled a young rabbit out of a bunch of grass,' says the writer, 'and began to drag it to the hedge. When the old rabbit turned and saw the stoat it went for it again, and jumped on it and bit it in the most infuriated manner, driving it away from the young rabbit, and running it squealing with terror into the hedge, where they both eventually disappeared.' It is sad to learn that this brave attempt of the mother rabbit to save her young one was in vain; the little bunny was dead when the gardener picked it up a few minutes later.
Stoats will often pursue rabbits across country for very long distances, going steadily on and following the track by the power of scent alone; but it is very seldom that a rabbit will show such courage as to turn the tables and attack its foe.
The people of the olden time had great faith in the powers of magic rods and wands. Not only was this the fact amongst the Greeks and Romans, but the belief was found in our own country not so very long ago. Certain trees were famed for their magical virtues, because they were supposed to be the home of some spirit, and rods cut from them were said to have wonderful powers. The belief survives in the conjurer's wand, which, as we all know, does marvels when waved to the sound of 'Hey presto!'
To the pretended wonder-worker of the past, his rod was a most important thing, for by its help he accomplished marvels, or at least pretended to do so. There is a story told about a man who had seen a magician produce water by means of his rod. Getting hold of the rod one day, he thought he would supply his house with water by its aid. He said to it, 'Bring water.' Soon the wand rushed to and fro with big pails, but when the floors were getting flooded, he thought there was enough water, and told the wand to stop. He did not know the word of command, and so the wand went on just the same. In his rage, he took a chopper, and cut the wand in two, but instead of stopping it brought twice as much; a double lot of pails appeared, and at last the torrent of water washed away the house of the meddlesome man.
The magic rod or wand has had several names given to it. A common one was that of 'divining rod.' By the Germans it was called the 'wishing rod,' or 'wishing thorn,' which points to the fact that it was often cut from the blackthorn or sloe. It was supposed that the person who could use the magic rod most successfully was the seventh son of a seventh son, if such a person could be found. The wand, too, should not be cut from very old wood, but it must be more than a year old. Some folk said that the twig chosen to make this rod ought to be one upon which the sun shone both in the morning and afternoon. Again, the magic rod was not simply a straight piece of wood; it had to be of a particular shape—that of the letter Y. When using it, the hands grasped the two arms, so that the unforked part pointed outwards. In houses about the West of England, people will show visitors magic or divining rods, cut many years ago, and now carefully kept as memorials of the past.
These rods had various uses. They were not only supposed to show where metal was hidden, or springs of water might be found, but one brought to a person ill of fever might cure him, though he had to pay whatever was asked for it, and make no objection to the price. In some countries, men believed that a magic rod might be got to point the direction in which a lost person had gone.
The Chinese, ages before the Westerns knew them, had their magic rods, and generally cut them from fruit-trees, the peach being often chosen. But in Europe, the hazel or cob-nut tree stands at the head of the list of the trees favoured. German farmers formerly cut a hazel rod in spring, and when the first thunder-shower came, they waved it over the corn that was stored up, believing that this would make it keep sound till it was wanted. Next to the hazel in importance was the rowan or mountain ash, a tree always associated with the pixies and fairies; magic rods were frequently made from it, and also little crosses, which, if put over the door, were supposed to bring good fortune into a house. Another tree furnishing such rods was the willow, and another was the apple; one carefully avoided was the elder.
J. R. S. C.
She came with the evening shades,At the close of a winter day,And her manner implied,As she trotted inside,'I am here, and have come to stay.'Where she came from nobody knows,And no one has claimed her yet;But she made so free,It was easy to seeThat she had been somebody's pet.Now the homeless waif on our hearthGives a homelike look to the place;With her warm grey fur,And her satisfied purr,And content in her comely face.She has all the craft of her race,Though she does not look like a thief,For she climbed of lateUp to Charlie's plate,And calmly ate some of his beef!But we all have our little faults,And well will it be with usIf, when ruin impends,We can win new friends,Like our gentle and brave stray puss.
She came with the evening shades,At the close of a winter day,And her manner implied,As she trotted inside,'I am here, and have come to stay.'
Where she came from nobody knows,And no one has claimed her yet;But she made so free,It was easy to seeThat she had been somebody's pet.
Now the homeless waif on our hearthGives a homelike look to the place;With her warm grey fur,And her satisfied purr,And content in her comely face.
She has all the craft of her race,Though she does not look like a thief,For she climbed of lateUp to Charlie's plate,And calmly ate some of his beef!
But we all have our little faults,And well will it be with usIf, when ruin impends,We can win new friends,Like our gentle and brave stray puss.
'W
hat a shame it is, Hugo, that when your father is giving the whole class this splendid treat in honour of your recovery, you yourself should be the only boy absent.'
Hugo laughed somewhat sadly. 'Yes, I should like to be going, but the doctor says that I must not walk much before Christmas, and no one wants to spend three days in the woods in the middle of December. I should have liked the chance of catching a swallow-tailed butterfly for my collection.'
'I will try and get one for you,' answered Franz, 'though they are scarce this year. But what is this? How did you get your medal back?' as he picked up a silver disc from the table.
Hugo had won this medal a year before for a Latin composition for boys under fifteen, and when Baron Rosenthal's beautiful collection of coins and antique silver had been stolen, the medal had gone too.
'A friend of Father's saw it in a Berlin curiosity show among a lot of coins, and he sent it back to me.'
'And the coins—were they also your father's?'
'He has gone to Berlin to look at them, and he will be back to-night. But all coins are not easy to recognise. If it had been any of the silver boxes or cups he would have known his own at once.'
'And none of these have been traced?'
'No, not one. My father thinks they have probably been sold in some foreign country—America, perhaps, or England. But see, he left this money for you, so that you can let me know what you are doing. Then you can send me a long cypher telegram every day from the station on the Observatory, and it will give me something to do to translate it,' and he handed Franz some silver.
During his illness, Hugo had occupied himself in inventing a most elaborate cypher, which was the envy of the whole school. Not even the masters could read it, and it was an endless source of amusement to himself and Franz, who alone was in the secret.
'All right!' answered Franz; 'I will send you three telegrams, and catch you three swallow-tails too if I can manage it.'
As he went out of the room, his school-fellow looked wistfully at the pair of crutches that stood beside his invalid's chair. He was the only son of a very rich German nobleman, and six months before he had been nearly killed in a railway accident. When he began to recover, the Baron had promised to give a special treat to his son's class in honour of the event, and now that the time for the annual excursion had arrived, he was paying all expenses for the boys to remain three days in the forest instead of, as was usual, only one. It is the custom in German schools for each master to take his class for a long day's expedition into the country during the summer, in which he is supposed to open their eyes to the beauties of nature and the wonders of the botanical world; and the Baron, who was a very wealthy man, had caused this privilege to be extended that year. But now his son was unable to enjoy it, and this use of telegrams was a suggestion of his father's to prevent his being too depressed by the thought of his disappointment.
"He looked wistfully at the pair of crutches.""He looked wistfully at the pair of crutches."
At five o'clock on the following morning there was a very cheerful party of boys waiting at the station for the little hill-climbing train that was to take them into the heart of the Black Forest. The master, Herr Groos, was also in the best of spirits, in spite of his failure to make any of the boys listen while he explained to them how the train was enabled to climb a hill. The boys, with their yellow caps, which was the distinctive colour of their class, and their butterfly-nets, botanical presses, and green specimen-cases, were much too excited to listen to him.
At last the train arrived, and they all filed into an open third-class carriage, whose only other occupants were two strangers, a tall and a short one, also armed with butterfly-nets and enormous green cases.
'Did you see Hugo yesterday?' inquired Herr Groos of Franz, who was sitting next him.
'Yes, sir; I was there a long time. He wished he was coming with us.'
'Well, we all wish it too,' said the master heartily. 'What does he do with himself all day? Invent more cyphers?'
'No, sir, he does not mean to invent a new one,' answered Franz, laughing, 'till some one has solved the present one. I am to send him a long telegram in it every day.'
'What is that?' asked the short stranger, good-humouredly. 'I did not know there was such a thing as a cypher that could not be solved.'
'One of my pupils has invented one that no one has solved yet,' answered Herr Groos proudly.
'He should let me see it,' laughed the stranger. 'I would undertake to read it in half an hour.'
Then the master and the two strangers began to talk sociably together, and the conversation drifted to a discussion on the best place in the locality for the capture of butterflies, especially swallow-tails.
Franz listened attentively, for he was firmly resolved that he would not return without at least one specimen to adorn Hugo's collection. Herr Groos was of opinion that the Kühberg was the best place for them; but the strangers said, 'No, for every one found on the summit of the Kühberg there are at least three on the sunny slopes of the Hirsch-felsen on the opposite side of the valley.'
But atlast the train journey came to an end, and the boys arrived at the little inn which was to be their head-quarters. There they were soon devouring rolls and hot coffee, almost faster than the inn-keeper and his good-tempered wife could bring them out of the kitchen. Then, with their pockets and knapsacks full of rolls and German sausage, they started on their first day's expedition to a little lake at the foot of the Kühberg. It was a lovely walk, and as they passed now under the cool green pine-trees, and now along sunny slopes where the cows, with their tinkling bells, were almost buried in sweet-scented flowers, both botanists and butterfly-hunters were busy. Finally, after two hours' walk, they reached their halting-place at the edge of the forest lake.
(Continued on page 130.)
"I took the locket from my waistcoat again.""I took the locket from my waistcoat again."
Jacintha led the way up a path on the mound, and we all entered the summer-house, which was quite large, with seats round the sides and a table in the middle.
'Have you got the chocolates, Dick?' she asked, and at the same time began to unload her own pocket, which contained a bag with some preserved apricots in it, two oranges, and two pears. 'I often bring my dessert out here,' she explained, 'only to-day Auntie said she hoped I should not make myself ill.'
'Mind you don't,' said Dick.
'Have a pear, Everard,' she suggested, and accordingly I took one. 'Uncle has just started out with Auntie in the motor-car,' she continued, 'so I want you to begin at the beginning and tell us everything, you know—just everything.'
I looked at Dick, who was pinching an orange so as to make a hole in it to suck the juice, but he did not speak; so, having eaten a preserved apricot, I sat down next to Jacintha, wishing she had not so hastily drawn away her white skirt, and began.
I cannot accuse myself of speaking a word that was not true that afternoon, but it must be confessed that the chief object was to impress Dick with the conviction that I was not what he might easily take me to be. Accordingly, I glossed over the character of Aunt Marion's household, and dwelt upon the wealth and importance of Captain Knowlton. I brought tears to Jacintha's eyes when I told her of the loss of theSeagull, of his death and the difference in my treatment at the hands of Mr. Turton; but what seemed to have the greatest effect on her brother was the story of my encounter with the tramp who stole my money, and the other events of my journey.
'Still,' he said, being the first to speak when I ended the story, 'I don't see what you are going to do when you get to London.'
'Neither do I,' cried Jacintha.
'Oh, I shall do something right enough,' I answered with all the confidence I could assume.
'I tell you what I believe,' said Dick. 'I believe Captain Knowlton is not dead after all. You see if I am not right. You don't know really that he was drowned.'
'If he were not,' I answered, 'he would have sent a telegram, because he would know theSeagullhad been reported lost.'
'Still, you cannot tell,' Dick insisted, 'and if I were you, as soon as I got to London, I should go to his rooms in the Albany.'
But this was a point I had already considered.
'You see,' I said, 'very likely Mr. Turton has been there and told them to keep me——'
'I did not think of that,' Dick admitted. 'Still, I don't see what you will do in London. And, of course, I live there, though I'm going to a crammer's at Richmond next term.'
'Everard was going to be sent to Sandhurst, too,' said Jacintha quietly.
'What a lark,' he exclaimed, 'if Captain Knowlton should turn up, and you should be there at the same time.'
But this was more than my imagination at the moment was capable of. I felt very, very far from going to Sandhurst, and, indeed, a kind of sense that Dick and Jacintha belonged to a different world from mine was fast growing upon me.
'I say,' said Dick, presently, for his manner had now become all that I could desire, 'how much money have you got left?'
'One and twopence,' I answered, and he looked solemn at that.
'But still,' cried Jacintha, 'you forget the locket.'
'Why, of course, there is the locket,' said her brother; 'let us have a look at it, Everard.'
I took it from my waistcoat again, and holding it close to his nose, Dick at once looked for the hall-mark.
'It is gold right enough,' he added.
'You can sell it for quite a lot of money,' urged Jacintha, 'because you picked it up, and you can never find the real owner. I should think you would get a good deal for it.'
'If you don't mind my saying so——' began Dick, and pausing, he looked into my face.
'Cut along,' I said.
'Well, if you took it to sell, the chap might—he might think you had stolen it.'
'You see,' said Jacintha hastily, 'we could take you to the bath-room, and Dick could lend you some of his clothes; but Auntie would be certain to find out, and Uncle has kept Mr. Turton's card, and he said that if he saw you he should take you back to Castlemore.'
'Can't go back,' said Dick, in a tone of authority. 'I know!' he exclaimed, after a thoughtful silence.
'What?' demanded his sister.
'Look here, Everard,' he explained, 'there is a good shop in High Street, Foster's, where my people buy things. I know old Foster—a decent sort of chap. If I were to take the locket——'
'What would you say when he asked you where you got it?' asked Jacintha.
At that we all stared into each other's faces, and I felt disappointed at the suggestion. For I had judgment enough, after my experience in selling my watch and chain, to see that in my present untidy condition I could not myself deal with the trinket to the best advantage. A respectable jeweller would probably decline to buy it at all, whereas a less honest dealer would not give me a third of its value.
'I have it!' cried Dick, after a few minutes' pause. 'You drop the locket on the floor, Everard,' and with a glimmering of his purpose, I took it again from my pocket and let it fall on to the boarded floor of the summer-house. He immediately stooped.
'Now,' he said, 'I can tell old Foster I have picked up a locket and that I don't know whose it is, and I want to sell it. I will get my bicycle and ride into the town at once; but look here, old chap,' he added, taking my arm in quite a friendly way, 'you had better not wait here. Just hang about outside in the road, and don't let them see you if they come back first in the motor-car. I say, Jacintha, it will look better if you come to Foster's too.'
'It's awfully good of you,' I answered as we all went down the slope. 'How much do you think I shall get?'
'I should think you might get twenty-five shillings,' said Dick, as if he knew all about it.
'I wish I might,' I cried.
'Well,' he insisted, 'you get into the road and keep dark a bit, and we will scorch into the town like anything.'
With that they both set off across the field while I scrambled through the gap in the hedge, and returned to my former position on the grassy side of the road, lying down and waiting expectantly to seeDick and Jacintha ride out through the gate; and with the prospect of obtaining possession of twenty-five shillings, it really began to seem as if the foundation of my fortune had been laid.
A very few minutes later Dick rode through the gate followed by Jacintha, who raised an arm as she turned to the right, pedalled up the slight hill, and soon disappeared as she began to descend on the other side. Rising to my feet I had waved my arm in return, and I was strolling about the grass beside the road, already impatient to see Dick and Jacintha returning and to learn the full extent of my wealth, when I heard a motor-car panting along the road.
A glance showed that it was driven by the man who had accompanied Jacintha that morning she spied me in the corn-field, and a few moments later he steered the car into his gate. It seemed a long time before I saw the head of Dick and then of his sister appear above the crest of the hill. Dick, in his eagerness to reach me, pedalled all the way down.
'I say, Everard,' he exclaimed as soon as he reached me, 'how much do you think?'
'Did you get the twenty-five shillings?' I asked.
'Two pounds——' began Jacintha, dismounting from her bicycle.
'Let me tell him,' cried Dick. 'Two pounds three and sixpence,' he added with an air of triumph.
'I am most awfully obliged to you,' I said, as he took a purse from his jacket pocket.
'Not so bad,' he continued, 'is it? You see I told old Foster he must give a tip-top price, and of course he knows me. At first, I thought he was not going to buy the thing at all; he said he didn't know whether my uncle would like it, and all that.'
'And he said we ought to have bills printed to say it was found,' added Jacintha.
'But I talked him out of that,' said Dick, 'and here is the money,' he continued, counting out the two sovereigns, a half-crown and a shilling.
'Mind you don't lose any of it,' suggested Jacintha.
'No fear,' I answered.
'I say, where are you going to sleep to-night?' asked Dick.
'Oh, well,' I replied, and I am afraid that my newly acquired wealth made me a little proud, 'I dare say I can find an hotel in Hazleton.'
'Do you think they will take you in?' said Dick.
'I wonder whether we shall see you in London,' cried Jacintha, 'because we are going home next week.'
'And I say, Everard,' said her brother, 'take my word for it, I should not be a scrap surprised if Captain Knowlton was rescued after all.'
'Dick,' suggested Jacintha, 'don't you think we ought to go in to tea?'
'Perhaps we ought,' he admitted. 'Well, good-bye,' he added, and with that he held out his hand. When I shook Jacintha's a moment afterwards, I wished once again that my own hands were cleaner.
'Good-bye,' she cried. 'I am glad the locket was not mine,' and then they both re-mounted their bicycles, rode up the hill, waved their hands once more, and disappeared from my sight.
In spite of the possession of the money for the locket, a sense of depression fell upon me. I had grown quickly friendly with the pair, and they seemed to bring me back to the life which I felt more acutely than before I had lost for ever.
(Continued on page 134.)
It was a perfect day for the water, and the Fletcher boys, with a good supply of sandwiches, meat-patties and ginger-beer, had gone off for a day's boating. Their sister Daisy thought it was very hard lines to be left at home, but Mrs. Fletcher would not allow her to go unless a boatman were in charge.
'The boys know what they are about, and I feel fairly happy about them,' she said, 'but I cannot let my little daughter run any risks.'
This was disappointing, though the real grievance lay in the fact that the boys did not seem very anxious to have her. They were very fond of their sister, but, of course, they said there were times when a girl was 'a bit in the way.'
So Daisy wandered down to the pier, feeling rather forlorn, and longing for the time when the boys' boat would come in sight.
Old Steve Tucker was sitting on the end of the pier, smoking his pipe, when Daisy came along.
'Fine day for a sail, Missie,' he said, and indeed the dancing blue waters of the bay looked most inviting.
Then Daisy poured out her troubles, and the old man shook his head in sympathy.
'I wonder now if you would be allowed to come along with me in my little sailing-boat?' he suggested.
'Do you mean it?' Daisy cried. 'Oh, you good old Steve! I will run home and ask Mother this minute.'
'Right you are, Miss Daisy! and I will just go down and put theMary Janeship-shape.'
Daisy soon came flying back, having gained the desired permission.
Soon the little boat was dancing over the waves. The breeze filled the sail, and they made such speed that the houses on the shore fast dwindled behind them. Old Steve showed Daisy how to manage the sail and then gave her a lesson in steering. At first the sail slackened and the boat wobbled a little, but his pupil soon grew clever at keeping the head to the wind and steering a straight course.
'Oh, I am enjoying myself!' she cried. 'This is ever so much better than going with the boys, because they always want to manage the sail and the steering, and I never have a chance of learning anything.'
'Well, Missy, you shall come out sailing with me a few times, and I will soon teach you all there is to know about a boat.'
'And then they will not be able to refuse to take me because I am no good, will they?'
'No fear, Missy! You will soon know as much as the young gentlemen—and I do believe that is their boat just ahead.'
'So it is,' cried Daisy, in great excitement. 'Now we will race them, Steve, and give them a surprise.'
'Ship ahoy!' called Daisy as they flew past, and her brothers were indeed astonished to see their sister steering the boat like any old salt. After that they never said that a girl was 'a bit in the way.'