CHAPTER VIA Real Friend
"Oh, oh, I am so sorry——" began Nealie in breathless apology, but got no further, being at that moment swept aside by Sylvia, who fairly flung herself into the gentleman's arms, crying shrilly:
"Daddy, my darling Daddy, I should have known you anywhere, although I was such a tiny kiddy when you went away!"
Again the amazed stranger tried to protest; but although his lips moved, no sound was audible, for at this instant Don and Billykins reached him in company, and the impact of their embrace was sufficient to momentarily deprive him of the power of speech, while Rupert seized his left hand, sawing it up and down like a pump handle, and Rumple patted him on the back, leaving Ducky no chance at all saving to dance round and round, yelling at the top of her voice.
"It is Father, dear Father, and he does not know his little Ducky at all!"
"Oh, hush, hush! We have made a mistake, andit is not dear Father at all," cried Nealie. And there was such genuine distress in her tone that the gentleman, who had been feeling decidedly ruffled at this boisterous onslaught, was at once sorry for her.
"Are you Miss Plumstead, and did you expect to meet your father here?" he asked kindly, while Sylvia slipped her arms from his neck and looked very confused, for it is not pleasant to rush about the world hugging the wrong people, and her blushes were a sight to see as she stammered out an incoherent apology for her blunder.
The boys had dropped away from him and stood in a bewildered group, while Ducky ceased her jubilant outcry, and it was left to Nealie to explain the situation and ask why it was that he had asked to see her.
"My name is Wallis, of the firm of Peek & Wallis, transport agents, Sydney," said the stranger as his hand stole up to settle his ruffled tie, which Sylvia's greeting had half-pulled unfastened. "Mr. Melrose sent me a cable from Cape Town, asking me to meet this boat and to be of service to you in any way that I could. He said that he had given you a letter of introduction to my firm. Is that so?"
"Oh yes, and I have it here in my bag!" said Nealie, pulling open the little bag she wore slung from her shoulder and taking from it an envelope addressed to Messrs. Peek & Wallis.
Mr. Wallis looked relieved at the sight of the letter, as it made the position quite clear, despite its brevity, for it was really very short, and ran as follows:—
"Kindly supply Miss Plumstead with a horse and wagon for the journey to Hammerville, Clayton, and if she cannot pay you I will.
"Sincerely yours,Thomas Melrose."
"But of course our father, who is a doctor at Hammerville, will send you the money for the horse and wagon when we reach him," said Nealie, with the proud little lift of her head which had its due effect on Mr. Wallis, who had a great respect for most things which were straight from England, and who had already decided that Nealie was, to use his own expression, "no ordinary young lady".
"Of course," echoed Mr. Wallis politely, but without anxiety. In any case his firm would not suffer, as Mr. Melrose had undertaken to see them paid, and so he was prepared to be very kind indeed to this family who had made the comical mistake of supposing him to be their father. "And now I suppose that you would like to go ashore at once and have a look at Sydney before you start on your journey?"
Nealie hesitated and looked at Rupert, who, however, did not seem disposed to help her out; and soagain it was she who had to do the explaining, which was quite right and proper, seeing that she was the eldest and had always mothered the others.
Then, because Mr. Wallis was elderly, and looked kind now that he had had some of the starch taken out of him by Sylvia's rapturous hugging, she decided that it would be better to take him into confidence concerning their dilemma.
"You see, it is like this," she said, boldly taking the plunge. "Captain Moore would not let us go ashore at Cape Town, because we were under his care, and we are so afraid that he will not let us disembark until Father comes to fetch us, and we are not at all sure that Father knows we have come."
"You mean that he would not know the boat was in, or that he did not know by which boat you were to travel?" asked Mr. Wallis in perplexity; for to him the situation was certainly novel.
"We are not sure that he knows we are in New South Wales," said Nealie, speaking very slowly and distinctly, under the impression that Mr. Wallis must be either deaf or stupid, or perhaps a little of both. "Our guardian, Mr. Runciman, wrote to tell Father that we were being sent out here to him, and he gave us the letter to post; but by an accident it got no farther than my second brother's pocket. He is very poetical, and that of course makes him very absent-minded.We did not find the letter until we were some days away from Cape Town, and then, after a consultation, we decided that we would not cable from Perth and we would not tell the captain, but we would give dear Father the surprise of his life by walking in upon him one fine day."
"I should think that it would be a surprise, and it is possible that it may be more than a little inconvenient to him; for you see houses here are not so commodious and roomy as houses in England, and there are six—no, seven of you," murmured Mr. Wallis, wondering what Dr. Plumstead would feel like when this troop of jolly, hearty young people walked in upon him. Still, confused as he had been by the onslaught of their riotous greeting, Mr. Wallis could not help admitting to himself that it had been very delightful to feel the clasp of Sylvia's arms about his neck, and he could not help wishing that he had children of his own to love him in that tempestuous but wholly delightful fashion.
"I expect that Father will be so charmed to see us that he will not think anything about the inconvenience of our numbers," put in Sylvia confidently; but a chill little wonder crept into the heart of Nealie as to whether it might not have been better to have waited in England until their father had said whether he really wished for them to come and join him inthis distant land. However, it was too late now for regrets of this sort, and the only thing to be done was to go forward, and to be happy while they could. It was this feeling which made her say to Mr. Wallis:
"Do you think that Captain Moore will be willing to let us go off the ship with you? We are so very tired of being on board."
"I should think you must be; that is how most people feel by the time they reach Sydney. We are so far away from Europe, you see, and a long voyage is bound to be tedious," he answered kindly; and then he told them that he would go and interview the captain at once about the matter of their going. Meanwhile they were to wait in the dining saloon for him, as he would certainly not find it easy to hunt for them in the confusion which at present reigned on board.
"What a dear he is, bless his heart!" cried Sylvia, dancing lightheartedly up and down between the tables; then seizing upon Billykins for a partner she whirled round and round, while Don and Ducky joined forces to take their share of the fun, and Rumple bobbed, bowed, then spun round and round without any partner at all, and dancing with more energy than discretion was constantly falling foul of the chairs, which were screwed to the floor and swung round upon pivots.
Only Nealie and Rupert stood apart, talking ratheranxiously about the future and wondering whether their scanty stock of money would suffice for all the needs of the journey. Rupert had been rather lamer than usual during the last few days, owing to an accidental slip on the stairs. This lameness was one of the private worries of Nealie, for she did not believe that he need be lame if only the weak foot and ankle were properly treated. However, her father would doubtless see that the dear eldest brother had all the care that was necessary, and so until they reached Hammerville she would just have to leave the matter where it was.
Mr. Wallis, coming back from his interview with the captain, thought that he had never seen a family more radiantly happy than this company of boys and girls who were skipping and prancing up and down the long room, bumping against each other in sheer gleefulness of heart.
But at sight of him they instantly subsided into outward quiet, coming crowding about him to know how his errand had sped.
"The captain says that he will be very pleased to let you go ashore with me——" began Mr. Wallis, and then found he could get no further until the noise of a rousing three times three, led by Rumple, had died away, for he could not make himself heard above such a noise.
"No more cheering until Mr. Wallis has finished, please," said Nealie firmly, as she laid her hand in a restraining fashion on the shoulder of Rumple.
"I was going to say," continued Mr. Wallis, "that I should have been very delighted to have taken you out to Mosman's Bay, where my home is, but unfortunately the house is at present shut up, as my wife is away visiting her mother at Auckland, in New Zealand, and I am staying at my club in the city, where no ladies are admitted; but I can put you up at a nice quiet hotel where you will be quite comfortable; indeed I told Captain Moore that I would do so."
"You are most kind, and we are very grateful," said Nealie in a rather hesitating tone. "But I am afraid that we cannot afford to stay much at hotels, for Mr. Melrose told us they were very expensive, and if we are not careful our money will not last us until we reach Hammerville. There are so many of us, you see, and we all want so much to eat that our food bills must of necessity be very expensive."
Mr. Wallis waved his hand with a deprecating air. "Of course, of course, and it is really a very fine thing to be hungry; I often wish that I could get up a vigorous appetite myself, but I can't. I hope that while you are in Sydney you will consider yourselves my guests; it will be a very great pleasure to show you some of the sights of the city. Suppose you stayover to-morrow—we can get a large amount of sightseeing into that time—and then the wagon shall be ready for you to make an early start. The captain understands that you are to be my guests, and that is why he is willing to let you come ashore with me. Please collect the baggage that you want to take with you, then I will give orders for the remainder of your luggage to be sent to the hotel. We ought to get away as quickly as we can, so that no time may be lost."
There was no stopping the cheers this time, and Nealie put her fingers in her ears because of the noise, but Mr. Wallis looked actually pleased at the commotion he had evoked; and then there was a great rush for the cabins, where each one had a bag or a bundle ready.
"What a delightful sensation it is to find firm ground under one's feet!" cried Nealie, as she walked with a springy step by the side of Mr. Wallis.
"I expect it is; but all the same you will be wise not to do too much walking at first, for land is apt to prove very trying to the person who has just arrived after a long voyage," replied Mr. Wallis, who had noticed how lame Rupert was, and guessed that the boy would rather suffer any torture than admit that walking was painful. He had his reward in the look of dumb gratitude Rupert gave him when a roomycarriage had been secured, and they were all packed in as tight as sardines in a tin, with Don and Billykins sharing the driver's perch, and making shrill comments as they went along.
First of all they were driven to the hotel, which was a very homely sort of place, with a motherly manageress, who would insist on kissing the girls, although happily she stopped short at that, leaving the boys with a mere handshake. She was English herself, so she said, and just ached for a sight of the old country, which made her welcome so warmly everyone who came straight from England.
Mr. Wallis wanted them to have luncheon then, but as they all stoutly declared that they could not touch a mouthful of food of any kind, and as it was really early for lunch, he took them off, on a tram this time, to see something of the city.
He took them along George Street, which, following as it does the lines of an old bush trail, winds and wriggles in a way that was more suggestive of Canterbury in England than of a great colonial city. Sometimes they rode in electric trams, sometimes they had a carriage chartered for their use, and then again it was an omnibus which had the honour of their patronage, and Nealie privately wondered how much it cost Mr. Wallis to take them round that day, for he would let them pay for nothing themselves,declaring that he would not have his privilege as their host infringed in any way.
They had lunch in a grand hotel in Wynyard Square, and afterwards went to see the residence of the Governor-General; but imposing as were the battlemented walls and magnificent staterooms, the greatness of the place was not so impressive to the seven as was the General Post Office, and they were made completely happy when Mr. Wallis took them right to the top of the building, so that they might look out over the city from the windows of the room under the clock chamber of the great tower.
It was small wonder that they were so tired, after such a round of sightseeing, that they had to decline Mr. Wallis's kind proposal to take them to a dramatic entertainment, which was being given that night in the town hall.
Ducky, Don, and Billykins were all three so fast asleep, when they arrived back at the hotel where they were staying, that one of the waiters had to be called to help carry the sleepers in and up to their bedrooms, and as they could not be roused for supper they were just left to have their sleep out, and the four elders had cakes and coffee on the balcony overlooking Pitt Street.
"I wonder what dear Father is thinking about to-night," said Sylvia dreamily, as she sat in a wickerchair, with her feet upon another, feeling at peace with all the world.
"Perhaps his ears are burning, and he is wondering who is talking about him; although a man with seven children may always feel pretty certain that one or more of the seven have got their thoughts upon him," replied Rumple, who was nibbling the end of a stumpy pencil and lovingly fingering a dirty little notebook. He was just then very undecided as to whether he would write a sonnet to his father or start on a history of Sydney. Mr. Wallis had told him so many stories of the old Botany Bay days that he felt quite primed for a very ambitious book indeed.
"I am wondering who is going to drive the horse," said Rupert, whose foot was aching badly, and consequently making him feel very depressed and unfit to cope with difficulties which might be looming in the near distance.
"I shall, unless you especially yearn for the business," said Nealie quietly, and then her hand stole into his with such a complete understanding of how he felt at that moment that he blessed her in his heart, and said to himself that she was a brick of a girl, and that it was worth while to be her brother.
Somehow Nealie always understood without words when Rupert felt as if life were something too big tobe lived, and then she would fling herself into the breach, and let him feel that she was quite ready to hold up the heavier end of every burden.
"The poor animal will not cherish any illusions about the charms of running away after it has had the pleasure of dragging us and our baggage for a few score miles. I think that we ought to have a pair," put in Sylvia in a dreamy tone; she was getting very sleepy, only it seemed too much trouble to go to bed just yet.
"Oh, we cannot have two horses; think what a worry it would be!" exclaimed Nealie. "Mr. Wallis said that one would be quite sufficient, as we did not need to travel very fast. He said that one horse, if it were well fed, could always draw a ton weight on a decent road, and we should not weigh a ton, I should hope."
"Not far short of it, by the time baggage and wagon have been weighed in, as well as the seven of us," said Rupert, and then he called out that Rumple was asleep. The first paragraph of the projected History of Sydney had been too much for the aspiring young author, who was snoring with his nose on the grubby little notebook.
"We cannot carry him to bed, and I am afraid that the waiters will form a very poor opinion of us if we ask them to do it, so we must wake him if we can,"said Sylvia, jumping up and starting on a vigorous shaking of her younger brother.
"It is of no use, dear; he will not wake up, and you and I must just drag him into his room as best we can," said Nealie, interposing to prevent Rumple from being shaken and bumped any more.
"What a set of children ours are!" cried Sylvia impatiently. "If once they drop asleep there never seems any possibility of waking them before the next morning."
"It is not more than a year ago that Mrs. Puffin and I carried you up to bed one night when you had fallen asleep downstairs," replied Nealie, with a laugh. "I remember that we stuck fast in the narrow part just outside Aunt Judith's door, and we could not get up or down; indeed it looked not improbable that we might have to leave you there until morning, climbing over your sleeping form every time we wanted to pass up or down. Then Mrs. Puffin had a happy inspiration, and, acting upon it, we slid a sheet under you, and, Rupert coming to our help, we dragged you up the last four steps by sheer force of arm."
"I remember it," laughed Sylvia. "That was the time when I dreamed that I was tobogganing down the Rocky Mountains, and when I woke up next morning, and found how badly I was bruised, I thought that it really must be true, and no dream atall. How shall we carry him, Nealie? Will it be easier to join hands under him, or to haul him out feet first?"
"Feet first, I think," she answered. "It is not safe to join hands under sleeping persons, because you have no hand free to catch them if they sway. If you will carry his feet, I will take his shoulders, and we will soon have him on his bed. Then I think we had better go to bed also, for it would be tragic if we fell asleep; we should have to stay where we are all night, because there is no one strong enough to carry us;" and Nealie's laugh rang out, as if she had not a care in the world, and was promptly echoed by Rupert and Sylvia.
CHAPTER VIIThe One-armed Man
The seven had hardly finished breakfast next morning when Mr. Wallis arrived. Surely never had an elderly gentleman taken to sightseeing with the avidity displayed by this one, and every one of the seven Plumsteads voted him to be "a jolly decent sort".
His first move this morning was to take them across the harbour in a steam ferry to a small jetty opposite the Circular Quay, where they transhipped to a tiny tug which took them to Farm Cove, round Clark Island, and past the other sights of that most wonderful harbour; and all the time he told them thrilling stories of the early days of the Colony. He told them of the voyage of Captain Phillips, who set out from Portsmouth in May, 1787, and arrived, with eleven ships, in Botany Bay in January, 1788, only to find that Botany Bay was by no means what it had been represented, and, instead of the land being a series of beautiful green meadows sloping gently up from the shore, there was nothing but swamp and sand.
"What an awful voyage! I don't think that we will complain about our few weeks on board after that!" cried Sylvia, who was sitting close to Mr. Wallis on the deck of the tug, while Rupert sat on the deck at his feet and Rumple hovered in the background, all of them intent on getting all the information they could about the new and wonderful country to which they had come.
"The voyage now is nothing but a pleasure trip compared with what it used to be in the days of the old sailing vessels," said Mr. Wallis, who was immensely flattered at the attention given to his stories. He had always been very fond of telling people things, only the trouble was that so few seemed to care for what he had to tell; but these children simply hung on his words, and so he was inspired to do his very best to satisfy their thirst for information.
"Botany Bay is south of Sydney Harbour, isn't it?" asked Rumple, producing the dirty notebook and preparing to take notes on a liberal scale.
"Yes, and because it is so open to the east there is no protection from the Pacific swell. Captain Phillips saw that it would be impossible to found a colony there, and so he set out with one of his ships to find a better harbour farther along the coast," went on Mr. Wallis. "And it is said that a sailor named Jackson discovered the entrance to what is now known asSydney Harbour, and it was named Port Jackson in honour of him."
"I wish that I could discover something that could be named after me," said Rumple with a sigh. "Port Plumstead, or even Mount Plumstead, would have an uncommonly nice sound, and I do want to be famous."
"There is fame of a sort within the reach of everyone," answered Mr. Wallis quietly.
"What sort of fame?" asked Rupert quickly. He had been very silent before, leaving it to the others to do most of the talking.
Mr. Wallis smiled, and his middle-aged countenance took on a look of lofty nobility as he said slowly: "We can each impress ourselves on our fellows in such a way that so long as life lasts they must remember us because of some act or acts for the good of suffering humanity, and that, after all, is the fame that lasts longest and is at the same time most worth having. We can't all be explorers, you know, for there would not be enough bays, mountains, and that sort of thing to go round; but there are always people in need of help, pity, and comfort."
"I wanted to be a doctor," said Rupert in a voice that was more bitter than he guessed. "But who ever heard of a lame doctor? Everyone would be howling for the physician to heal himself."
"There is no reason why you should not be a doctorthat I can see: not if you do not mind hard work that is," said Mr. Wallis. "I have known lame doctors and hump-backed doctors too; indeed one's own disability would serve to make one all the more keen on doing one's best for other people. In the Colony, too, there is not the money bar that exists in the old country, because anyone can rise from the gutter here to any position almost that he may choose to occupy, and you are not in the gutter by any means."
"Not quite," replied Rupert with a laugh, and a lift of his head like Nealie.
The tour of the harbour took so long that they did not get back to the city until the afternoon, and then their kind host carried them off to tea at the Botanical Gardens, which were one of the finest sights that any of them had seen. Ducky fairly screamed with delight at the lovely flowers, while Don and Billykins could hardly be induced to leave the ornamental waters where the water fowl congregated looking for food.
Nealie and Mr. Wallis came in search of them when tea was ready, and found them absorbed in watching a toucan from America and a rhinoceros hornbill from Africa, which appeared to have struck up a friendship from the fact that they were both aliens.
"Come to tea, boys; you can inspect those creatures later if you want to," said Mr. Wallis.
"I say, Nealie, what does the toucan want to havesuch a long bill for?" asked Billykins, slipping his arm through Nealie's as they walked back to the tearooms together.
"Perhaps he did not want to have a long bill, but having it must needs make the best of it," she answered, with a laugh, then suddenly grew grave with pity and concern as a man with his right coat sleeve pinned across his breast passed them at the place where the path grew narrow. They all knew that for some reason it always made her sad to see a one-armed man, although she took no especial notice of people who had been so unfortunate as to lose a leg. Mindful of this fact, Billykins was trying to divert her attention by talking very fast about what he had seen; but twisting his head round to see if the maimed stranger was leaving the gardens or taking the other path which led by a picturesque bridge round to the other entrance to the tearooms, he was surprised to see him stop and speak to Mr. Wallis, who was walking behind with Don.
"Did you see that man with one arm, who passed us just now and spoke to me?" said Mr. Wallis, joining Nealie and walking by her side.
"Yes, I saw him," she replied, her voice rather fainter than usual, while some of the fine colour died out of her cheeks.
"His is a most interesting and unusual case," wenton Mr. Wallis. "He is one of our very rich men now, and the funny part of it is that he declares he owes all his prosperity to the loss of his limb, which, but for a mistake of the doctor's, he need not have lost at all."
"What do you mean?" she asked, stopping short in the path and staring at him with parted lips, her face so ghastly white that he asked her anxiously if she felt ill.
"No, no, it is nothing, thank you, but I want to hear about that man. It sounds most awfully interesting; and won't you tell me what his name is?" she said, turning such a wistful gaze upon him, that it seemed to him there must have been some sorrow in her life, although she laughed in such a cheery, lighthearted way as a rule.
"Reginald Baxter. He is English, and came out to this country about six or seven years ago. His people are very aristocratic, but poor as church mice, and they were so terribly upset at his disaster they practically cast him off; but he seems to have no false pride himself and no unnecessary notions of his own importance; but he is a veritable king of finance——"
"What is that?" demanded Don; but Billykins was watching Nealie with a close scrutiny, and he had his fists clenched tightly as if he were meditating some sort of revenge upon the innocent Mr. Wallis for thepain he was giving her in talking about the one-armed man.
"A king of finance is a man who has a natural gift for managing money and making it increase. I should not wonder if you develop a cleverness in that way yourself when you are a little older," said Mr. Wallis, who was a keen student of human nature and had already amused himself by mentally forecasting the future of the seven.
"Perhaps I shall," answered Don stolidly. "Anyhow I don't mean to be poor when I grow up, for I shall just go without things until I get a lot of money saved, and Mr. Runciman used to say that money made money, and if a man could save one hundred pounds the next hundred would save itself."
"Well done, Mr. Runciman, that is sound philosophy!" said Mr. Wallis, and was going to expound the art of money making still further when there came a sudden interruption from Billykins.
"Can't you talk about something else, please? You have made Nealie cry by going on so about that one-armed man. She never can bear to talk about them, and you didn't see that she did not like it," he said in a shrill and very aggrieved tone.
"Miss Plumstead, I am truly sorry. I had no idea that I was saying anything to pain you. Please forgive me!" said Mr. Wallis in a shocked tone, forNealie's face was covered with her handkerchief, and by the heave of her shoulders it was easy to see that she was crying bitterly.
"Oh, it is nothing, quite nothing, and I am very silly!" she said nervously. "But somehow I never can bear to see men who have lost their limbs. It is so sad and hopeless, because, of course, they can never be the same again, and life must be so very sad."
Mr. Wallis laughed in a cheerful manner. "I don't think that you would consider Reginald Baxter a very sad man if you knew him. As I said before, he looks upon the loss of his arm as his entrance into freedom, and it would be hard to find a happier man, I should think. But let us go in and find some tea, and think no more about such matters."
Tea was such a merry function that no one had much time to notice that there was something wrong with Nealie, although she was so very quiet that Rupert asked her once if she did not feel well.
"Oh yes, I am quite well, thank you; only perhaps a little tired," she replied, smiling at him in a rather wistful fashion; and then, as Sylvia claimed his attention, he forgot about it, and there was so much to see and to hear, with so many details of to-morrow's journey to discuss, that it is not wonderful he did not even remember Nealie had said she was tired.
Later in the evening, when they were back at thehotel, the younger ones had gone to bed, and Mr. Wallis had gone away after bidding them a most affectionate good night, Nealie said abruptly: "There is something you ought to know, Rupert, that I have always hated to tell you."
"Then don't tell it," put in Sylvia lazily. "I think that half the misery of the world comes through having to do unpleasant things, such as going to bed when you want to sit up, and in having to get up by candlelight on a dark morning in winter when you would far rather take your breakfast in bed."
"What is it? A trouble of some sort?" asked Rupert, with a start, for he was remembering Nealie's low spirits at teatime and wondering where the trouble came in.
"Yes," said Nealie shortly, and then hesitated as if not sure where to begin.
"Well, you can enjoy it together, if it must be told, but I am going to bed, for it seems to me almost like a sacrilege to spoil such a beautiful day as this has been with even a hint of anything unpleasant," said Sylvia, getting out of her easy chair in a great hurry. Then she said in quite a pathetic tone, as she kissed Rupert: "I wonder when we shall have easy chairs to sit in again; don't you?"
"I don't see that it matters very much; I am not gone on that sort of thing myself," he replied briefly;and then he turned to Nealie, asking in a tone of grave concern, as Sylvia hurried away to bed: "Is it anything about Father, Nealie?"
"Yes," she said faintly. "That is to say, it is about the trouble that came before Ducky was born; you remember it?"
"I never knew more about it than that he made a mistake, some medical blunder, for which he would have to live more or less under a cloud for the remainder of his professional life. I thought it was all that any of us knew, and Aunt Judith hated to have it mentioned." Rupert's tone was fairly aggressive now, for he was quite abnormally sensitive on this subject of his father's disgrace, which had indirectly cost his mother her life and had plunged the family into poverty, and bereft them of their father also.
"Mrs. Puffin told me all about it one day soon after Aunt Judith was taken ill," said Nealie, her voice quivering now with emotion, for it was terrible to her to have to talk of this thing which had thrown such a shadow over their lives.
"How did she know?" demanded Rupert hotly, thinking how hateful it was that a servant should know more about their private skeleton than they knew themselves.
"Aunt Judith told her," replied Nealie; and then she burst out hotly: "But indeed there is nothing tolook so shocked about in the affair, Rupert. If Father did make a mistake, it was not so serious as it might have been; and I think that it was altogether wrong to hush it up as it has been. There are some things which are all the better for being told, and I am quite sure that this is one of them."
"What do you mean?" he asked hoarsely. "I should think that a mistake of that kind should be buried as deep as possible, for who would be likely to trust a doctor who might make blunders that might cost a man his life?"
"It was not a life-or-death blunder in that sense, but only one of maiming," said Nealie hastily. "Father wanted to take off a man's arm to save his life; but the family, and I suppose the man himself, would not hear of it, for the man was heir to someone's property, an awful pile it was; and the someone—she was a woman—said that her money should never go to a man who was maimed. So of course the man's family would not hear of it, and they would not have another doctor called in either; and things went on, the poor man getting worse and worse, until one day Father declared that he would throw up the case, because he would not be responsible for the man's life. Then the man said that it could be taken off if Father liked, only it must be done without his people knowing anything about it, which was easy enough,seeing that he was being nursed at his lodgings. Father sent for another doctor to come and administer the chloroform, and he performed the operation himself, as the man was too bad to be moved eight miles to the nearest hospital. There was a frightful week after that, when Father simply gave up everything to pull the poor fellow through. He did it too, and the relatives did not know until he was out of danger that the arm had been amputated."
"Whew, what a story!" said Rupert, mopping his forehead, on which the perspiration stood in great beads. "I think that Father was a hero, because he acted up to his principle—the true doctor principle—of saving life at no matter what cost to himself. But I don't mind admitting, now that I know the truth, that I have always been afraid of hearing that story, because I had got the impression that there was something really disgraceful behind."
"Poor Father has had to suffer as bitterly as if he had made the most ghastly blunder imaginable," said Nealie sadly. "The man's people had a lot of influence, although they were not really wealthy, and when they found out that the arm had been taken off they simply hounded Father down as if he were a criminal. He was boycotted in every direction, and in the end he had to get out of his practice in a hurry. Then Ducky was born, and Mother died; and there wouldhave been no home for us at all if Aunt Judith had not opened her house to take us in."
"Poor Father!" murmured Rupert, and then he thrust his hands deep in his pockets, and sat staring at the floor, frowning his blackest, until, a sudden thought striking him, he sat up straight, and asked abruptly: "What made you dig all that up to-day, after keeping it to yourself so long?"
"Because I met the man whose arm Father cut off," replied Nealie quietly.
"You did? Where?" demanded Rupert savagely, and looking as if he would like to go and have it out with the man there and then.
"A one-armed man passed us in the Botanical Gardens, and Mr. Wallis told me that a doctor had cut off his arm by mistake, and that the man's name was Reginald Baxter; then I knew that it must be the man on whose account Father had to suffer so badly."
"Did he—did he look very poor?" asked Rupert in a hesitating manner; for if the man had to lose his inheritance as a penalty for losing his arm, it did seem as if the poor fellow should be pitied.
"He looked as well off as other people, that is to say, he was dressed in an ordinary way; but Mr. Wallis told me that he was one of the richest men in the city—a king of finance, he said he was," replied Nealie.
Rupert gave a long whistle, and then rose to his feet, yawning widely. "So Father didn't balk the business so badly after all!" he said, and then went to bed.
CHAPTER VIIIThe Start
"I say that this is just ripping!" cried Rumple joyously.
He was sitting under the tilt of a light wagon with Rupert, the two small boys, and Ducky, while Nealie and Sylvia occupied the post of honour in front, and guided the steps of the big horse which was to draw the wagon to Hammerville.
Nealie held reins and whip in quite a professional style, and if she was nervous she took good care to say nothing about it. She had, before starting from the yards of Messrs. Peek & Wallis, ably demonstrated her ability to manage a horse by unharnessing this very animal and leading it into the stable. Then leading it out again she had harnessed it with her own hands, backed it carefully into the shafts, and finished the processes of hitching to in a smart and workmanlike manner.
The others wanted to assist her; but as she had to take the responsibility, and sign the books of the company,she preferred to do the whole thing herself, although she promised that one or more of them should always help her at the harnessing and unharnessing when they were on the journey.
"Yes, it is ripping!" echoed Sylvia. "But do you know, I was simply shaking with nervousness when Nealie was harnessing, for I was so afraid that she would make some awful blunder, and that they would refuse to let us have the horse and wagon, for I knew that I could not have stood the test as she did; and then, too, these colonial horses seem to have such a good opinion of themselves, and they carry their heads with a swagger that is entirely different from the meek, downtrodden air of the Turpins, and Smilers, and Sharpers of the old country; and their names are as bumptious as themselves. Fancy a horse being named Rockefeller! I vote that we call the dear creature Rocky for short. What do you say?"
"Not a bad idea!" cried Nealie, who was flushed and triumphant at having passed the test imposed on her by Mr. Wallis before he would allow her to take the responsibility of the horse and wagon. Rupert's lameness had been the bar to his being in charge, and if Nealie, or, failing her, Sylvia, had been unable to harness and unharness without danger to themselves, then it would have been necessary to send a driver with them, which would not merely have added tothe expense, but would have imposed a most uncomfortable restraint upon them.
Mr. Wallis had sent a reliable man to see them clear of the city and beyond the area of the electric trams; then, once out in the country, and provided with a map of the route to be traversed, the driver bade them good morning, and they were absolutely on their own.
"I wonder how far we shall get to-night?" said Rupert, who was in charge of the map, and had been promptly nicknamed the "route boss" by the others.
"We ought to get to Kesterton—Mr. Wallis said so," answered Rumple, who had charge of the provisions, and was at that moment sitting upon the grub box, which had been thoughtfully filled for the start by Mr. Wallis.
"I don't mind where we get to by night—no, I mean sundown, for that is what Australians say—but I do hope it will soon be time to open the grub box, for I am getting most fearfully hungry, and I expect the horse is hungry too," said Ducky, who was in high feather this morning, and full of the oddest little jokes, with quips and cranks of all sorts. She had kept up a fire of small jokes with Don and Billykins ever since the start, for she was wildly excited because she was going to see her father, who of course could not possibly know her until he was told who she was.
"You can have food now, and I know there are some lovely sandwiches on the top of the box, for I saw the woman at the shop pack them into their place above those tins of tongue," said Nealie; "but I have had strict orders to feed Rocky only at sunrise, noon, and sundown, and the noon meal is to be a slight one, and I am going to obey orders."
"How shall we get the horse and wagon back from Hammerville to Sydney? Will it have to be put on the rail?" asked Rumple, who had not heard, or else had forgotten, the final instructions which had been given to his sister.
"We have to hand it over to the nearest agent of the company, and he lives about twenty miles from Hammerville on the nearest point of the railway," replied Nealie.
"Do you mean that the railway does not go nearer than twenty miles from Hammerville?" cried Sylvia. "Why, the place must be quite at the back of beyond!"
"That is just about where it is, my dear; and if you thought that it was going to be a second Sydney, why, you are in for a pretty big disappointment, I am afraid," said Rupert, who was still poring over the map. "Hammerville is a mining place, although it is not quite clear to me yet what kind of mining is donethere, and it seems to have sprung into existence within the last six or seven years. This Gazetteer affair says that it is a very healthy place, and bound to develop into a city of the first importance; only, so far as I can see, it is not very big yet, though doubtless it will receive a mighty impetus of growth when it has the honour of sheltering us. Only I don't mean to stay there very long;" and as he spoke Rupert folded up the map, putting it in his pocket with a satisfied slap, then sat looking out between the shoulders of Nealie and Sylvia, a happy smile curving his lips.
Life had taken on a new aspect for him since the real truth of his father's story had been made known to him, and already he had made up his mind that he was going to be a doctor, if by hard work he could pass the preliminary tests and win a scholarship that would let him climb the ladder of learning without expense to his father. Mr. Wallis had told him the way to set about obtaining his heart's desire, and it would not be a little thing which would turn him back, now that he knew there had been no real dishonour in his father's professional downfall. While the others ate sandwiches, and chattered like magpies about what they would do when the night camp was made, Rupert sat absorbed in day-dreams, building castles in the air, and making up his mind as tohow he would go to work in good earnest directly Hammerville was reached.
The horse was good and fresh, the road was plain before them, and Nealie forged ahead so intent on her business that she paid little heed to Rupert's silence or the noisy chatter of the others.
The day was very hot, and they rested the horse for two hours in the middle of the day, unharnessing the big creature, and washing his face with as much care as if he had been a human being; then, after he had had the regulation amount of water, he was tied to a tree and fed, after which the seven had a merry meal from that well-filled grub box and some tea from a real billy, which they boiled over a fire of sticks that had been gathered by Don and Billykins.
The suburbs of Sydney extend so far that they could not be said to be free of them yet; there were pleasant villas with ornamental grounds and a riotous wealth of flowers dotted here and there along the road. Great stretches of land were under vegetable cultivation, and the seven had been vastly interested to see Chinamen with long pigtails hanging down their backs walking up and down between rows of potatoes, peas, and cauliflowers, letting in water from the irrigation channels, and turning it this way or that with the twist of a naked foot.
The noonday halt was on a patch of ground justoff the road, which looked like private land with the fence broken down; but no one came to complain of their resting there, while there was water and shade, and the spot seemed to be made on purpose for their requirements.
"What a jolly place this would have been for the night camp! I doubt if we shall find a spot so suitable when evening comes. What a pity we cannot stay here!" said Sylvia regretfully; the heat had made her lazy, and it did not seem worth while to go farther and to fare worse when they had such a lovely spot to rest in.
"We ought to do twenty miles a day at the very least, and we have not done more than ten as yet, so we must push on a little farther," replied Nealie, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. Quite privately she was saying to herself that she would love to camp just then and there, for between sightseeing and excitement she was feeling rather worn out. But it did not take much arithmetic to know that if they only went ten miles in a day's journey they would be nearly a month on the road, and at that rate their money would certainly not hold out, for there were seven of them to feed, and even the horse would cost money for food later on, as the animal would need corn or oatmeal to keep it in good form for drawing the wagon.
So she resolutely put away the temptation to camp at that most convenient spot, and, calling Rumple to help her harness, she set about the preparations for a start.
The zest of travel had gone from all of them, however, and they went forward in languid silence, while the heat and the dust seemed literally to choke them. Then came a long hill, which appeared to stretch for miles in front of them.
"I am going to walk for a time," said Nealie, as she sprang down and went to the head of the horse, and the others tumbled out also, except Rupert and Ducky, and they trailed along in the little shade cast by the side of the wagon, and declared that it was less tiring to walk in the dust than to be cooped up under the tilt of the wagon.
"We ought to be looking for a camping place soon, for of course we shall be rather longer getting things into shape on the first night," said Nealie, and then Rumple and Sylvia begged to be allowed to go forward and find a place which seemed suitable for the purpose, and on their promising not to leave the road, Nealie said they might go.
The way still led upward, and between the trees they could still get glimpses of the waters of the wide harbour, although a few miles farther on the road would turn inland, and then they would have to bid goodbye to the sea.
Billykins trudged along by the side of Nealie, doing valiant things in the matter of leading the horse, but Don trotted on just in front, looking for a camping ground, which he found presently in a little hollow by the side of the road, not far from a house, where water could be begged for themselves, and also for the horse: a great convenience this, because they seemed to have left the region of little roadside streams, and they had seen no water since noon.
"I wonder why Sylvia and Rumple do not come back. Do you think that they can have lost their way?" Nealie asked Rupert, when he came to help her unharness the horse, after the wagon had been drawn into position at the side of the road.
"If they have, they will soon find it again when they turn round to come back," said Rupert in a casual tone; but secretly he was very much worried because they had not come back, and would promptly have gone in search of them if his foot had not ached so much as to make walking out of the question.
Don, Billykins, and Ducky worked very hard at getting supper ready, but everyone was more or less anxious, and no one really enjoyed things, until, just as they were going to sit down to supper without them, the wanderers appeared. They were very tired, and dreadfully shamefaced at having stayed away solong that all the burden of supper preparations was thrown on the others.
"We don't mind that; only we were so worried because you were away so long," replied Nealie, who had been looking rather white and worn, but who was smiling now that the worry was at an end.
The night was delightfully fine, and they grew very merry as they sat round the supper fire. It really seemed a shame to turn in; but, mindful of the early start which would have to be made next morning, Nealie said they really must go to bed.
It was one thing to talk of turning in and quite another to do it, however. The three girls were going to sleep on the floor of the wagon, but when the mattress was unrolled there seemed no room at all, and so much twisting and turning was necessary, before there was room for the three of them to lie down, that a good part of the night was taken up in getting comfortable; indeed they might not have been able to sleep at all if it had not been for Sylvia's brilliant idea of lying in what she called the head and toe position; that is to say, her head and Nealie's feet shared the same end of the mattress, while Ducky, being so many sizes smaller, was accommodated somewhere about the middle.
Down below, the boys had more room and less comfort. A tarpaulin spread over the shafts of the wagonmade a sort of tent in front, there was more sailcloth draped round the wheels and the back part of the wagon, while a waterproof sheet spread on the ground served as a sort of floor on which to spread two mattresses. But, as Rumple said, it was very hard, and it was a night or two before they were really comfortable.
The novelty of the thing kept them from complaining, however, and there was not one of the seven who would have changed their quarters for the most comfortable bed that was ever invented. It was great fun to lie listening to Rocky munching alongside, and to fall asleep with the out-of-door feeling, and the stars looking in from the rift in the canvas covering.
But it was still greater fun to wake next morning, to wash in a bucket, and then to hurry round, getting breakfast in the crisp, fresh air of the early morning. It was going to be tremendously hot later on, so breakfast was hurried over, and the start made before the cool breeze of the sunrising had entirely died away.
It was the real start this morning, for the road turned inland from the sea, and there was not one of the seven who did not feel as if they were saying goodbye to an old friend when the last gleam of blue water was hid from sight, and the hills, clothed with olive-green foliage, bounded the horizon.