It is just possible that there comes a time of life when the heart does not beat responsively at the bare suggestion of a rope-ladder. Then a desert island will have lost its charm, and wild beasts be no longer a source of terror or interest. Betty and John had, fortunately for them, not yet reached this miserable epoch. At their sister's last words they shouted and danced about on the uneven sticks until they were in imminent danger of falling out of the Eagle's Nest much faster than they climbed in.
"I thought you would consider it a good idea," said Madge modestly.
"Rather! I should think so! It's the awfullest, jolliest notion! It is! it is!" cried the twins alternately. At that moment they felt that nobody ever had ideas quite as good as Madge's.
But presently John, as usual, saw an objection to the scheme.
"I'm afraid string won't be strong enough," he began gloomily. "It might bear Betty's weight, but it certainly won't ours." He was at least two inches taller, and several pounds heavier than his twin sister, and was never tired of drawing attention to the fact.
"Do you think we are heavier than those great bundles of hay that Barton carries on his back when he is going to feed the cows in the winter?" inquired Madge.
John looked rather puzzled by this mysterious question, but Betty interposed hastily: "Oh, no! They must be much heavier than us! Why, Barton can sometimes hardly load them on his back and stoops almost double as he walks. And I know he can carry two of us, because one day when John and I were sitting on the pig-sty wall he came and just lifted us off one under each arm, and carried us all the way back to the garden as easily as possible."
"It wasn't because we were sitting on the pigsty wall that he lifted us off," observed John. "We are allowed to sit there as much as we like—at least you aren't, because it dirties your frocks, but I am. It was because you were throwing stones at the little pigs and he thought you would hurt them."
"It wasn't stones!" cried Betty indignantly. "It was little bits of moss I picked off the walls, because they had nothing green to eat—only—"
"Oh, children! Don't be so silly! Wrangling on about things that don't matter in the least!" interrupted Madge in her most sensible manner. "We all agree about the only thing of any consequence," she continued. "The ropes that go round the bundles of hay would be strong enough to bear us. And I know where to get them! They are coiled up behind the manger in the cow-house, and Barton has not used them lately as the cows are not having hay in the fields now."
After this speech the children naturally lost very little time in running to the cow-house. There, lying in a dark corner, were several coils of rope of unequal length, but all most reassuringly thick. They chose out two pieces that seemed as if they had been made on purpose to form the sides of a rope-ladder, and carried them off in triumph to the Eagle's Nest, feeling like a successful party of marauding barons in the middle ages. Just as they had hidden the rope in a fork of the beech-tree the bell for tea rang, and work was over for that afternoon. In warm weather, when the children strayed far from the house, Mrs. West had a large bell rung outside the door at meal-times, so there was really no excuse for not coming in. However, even with this precaution, Miss Thompson had so frequently to wait that she had lately made a rule to the effect that a quarter of an hour after the right time for tea to begin the cake and jam should be sent out of the room, and only bread and butter left. The children had been conspicuously more inclined to punctuality since this rule was made.
Everything connected with the Eagle's Nest took much more time and labour than was ever expected. It sounds an easy thing enough to make a rope-ladder when once the materials have been collected. But even with Barton's ropes, and Nurse's best ball of string, which John had quietly brought away in his pocket, it was no simple matter. After many days spent in faithfully following out all the directions given for the manufacture of rope-ladders in various books of adventures, the children produced something up which an intrepid traveller might possibly have crawled in preference to being eaten by a very hungry lion. With great pride they tied the upper ends of the two ropes firmly to a bough just above the Eagle's Nest. That part of the job was very effectually done. The children could be trusted to tie secure knots, they had such constant practice.
"Hurrah! Finished at last!" cried Madge, giving the ropes a severe jerk to test their firmness. "And now, who shall be the first to mount up our new ladder?"
"Let me!" cried a strange voice.
The children started so violently that they almost fell out of the Eagle's Nest. They looked all round in bewilderment, and at last, directly under the beech-tree, on the other side of the wall, they saw a boy watching them intently.
"If you will drop the end of the ladder down this way I know I can climb up," he said. "I've been looking at you for a long time, only you were so busy you didn't notice me. And I want to get up and have a look at that place you have built in the tree."
Betty and John turned to Madge and remained silent. The occasion was so strange that they gladly yielded to their elder sister the privilege of deciding what was to be done. But for once even the masterful Madge had some difficulty in making up her mind. There were so many things to be considered before taking any decisive action.
Of course it would be delightful to exhibit all their inventions and contrivances to a stranger, a boy who was apparently of an exact age to take an intelligent interest in such matters. But then, on the other hand, they had never been given permission to speak to this boy, and perhaps it was not the right thing to do.
"Still, I don't remember that we have ever been forbidden to talk to strangers, have we?" said Madge aloud. She was very anxious to be provided with an excuse for inviting this new boy to join the party.
"No, I don't think we have ever actually been told not to speak to people we don't know," said Betty thoughtfully. "But then, you know, Mama and Miss Thompson would never think of our meeting a stranger in the fields, and of course we don't go on the roads by ourselves."
This was perfectly true, but it did not suit Madge at all.
"I don't know what people think," she said impatiently; "only what they say. And if we have never been forbidden to speak to a stranger, I expect there is no harm in it. We are forbidden things fast enough if they are wrong. Sometimes it seems as if there would be hardly anything left that we are allowed to do!" She spoke rather recklessly, having half made up her mind to do something that she knew perfectly well was not right, and hoping by talking very loud and fast to stifle the voice of her conscience.
"You are keeping me a precious long time waiting!" called out the boy from below. "You don't mean to say you are such a set of babies that you are afraid to let down the ladder for me without first running back to the nursery to ask permission?"
At this taunt Madge became very red. "I've got nothing to do with the nursery, and I'm not afraid of anybody!" she exclaimed. These bold statements were not only silly but untrue; however, she did not stop to think of that in her overwhelming hurry to convince this stranger that she was not a little child, as he seemed to think, but a big girl with a will of her own. "And just to show you that I needn't trouble about anybody's permission, I invite you to join us up here," she added.
"That's right! You are a good sort, I can see!" returned the boy. "Drop down that old ladder of yours, and I will be with you in a couple of seconds! Now, look sharp, you two little ones. Lend a hand with the rope, can't you! What's the good of staring at me like two stuffed owls?"
To say the truth, Betty and John were both rather frightened by Madge's daring behaviour. They were by no means better children than she was, but they seldom ventured to be naughty on such a large scale as this. When Madge's pride was once roused she never stopped to think of consequences; but it is only fair to add, that being the eldest she generally same in for the largest share of punishment if they all did wrong together.
"Is he really coming up the ladder to play with us?" muttered Betty rather breathlessly in her sister's ear. "Do you think we shall be allowed—"
"Here, you parcel of babies, get out of the way!" interrupted the boy. "You've got nothing to do with it. Just chuck me down the rope," he added to Madge, "and if the babies don't like it they can run home and play in the nursery. We don't want them interfering with us! Rather not!"
Madge could not resist this flattering appeal. She did so enjoy being treated as a person of some importance, and not classed with the little ones. "Here goes!" she cried defiantly, and taking hold of the rope-ladder she dropped the end of it over the wall.
There was an anxious struggle. The strange boy appeared very active, for though one or two of the short sticks that formed the rungs of the ladder slipped (for it was almost impossible to tie them securely to the rope sides), yet he clung on with hands and feet like a monkey. When he came within reach Madge stooped down and stretched out her hand to him.
"Welcome to Eagle's Nest!" she said proudly, as she pulled him up to her side in the tree.
"So this is what you call Eagle's Nest?" cried the new-comer. "What a rum place!"
"It's a fortress," observed Madge with considerable dignity, for she did not quite like the want of respect with which he was criticising their great achievement. "It is only accessible by a rope-ladder and one other—" She stopped suddenly, thinking that after all it might not be wise to confide all their secrets to a stranger until he proved himself worthy of confidence.
"Oh, you needn't trouble to tell me," replied the boy; "I shall find it out quickly enough. I find out everything. I found you out playing up in this tree, though you couldn't see me."
"We did not know there were any children on the other side of the wall, so we didn't look particularly," explained Madge. "We thought an old lady lived—"
"Old Mother Howard you mean?" interrupted the boy. "Yes, she lives there right enough. And a rum old woman she is too!"
"Is she your mother, then?" asked John, rather puzzled by this speech.
"Rather not! I should jolly well like to see her dare to be my mother!" said the boy indignantly. "I'm an orphan, and she says she is some relation and has a right to bring me up. But I'll tell you something,"—he lowered his voice mysteriously, and the others crept a little nearer to him,—"it's my belief she is only trying to get all my money!"
"How dreadful!" exclaimed Madge. "I didn't know that people really did that sort of thing nowadays."
"Oh, don't they just!" said the boy, seemingly delighted by the impression his words had produced. "I'll just tell you how she has treated me. My father was a very rich man and I am his only child, so of course I ought to be rich, oughtn't I? Well, I hardly ever have any pocket-money at all!"
"We have threepence a week," said Betty with justifiable pride. But a moment later she was sorry that she had appeared to boast of their superior good fortune.
"Threepence a week! Do you indeed? But I dare say you have everything you want directly you ask for it?" observed the boy very dolefully. "What should you say if you had been left an orphan at the mercy of a cruel guardian, who sent you first to a school where they starved you, then to a school where they beat you, and then here where they do both?"
"Do you mean that Mrs. Howard starves and beats you?" inquired Madge, horrified by these disclosures.
"Oh, rather! Dry bread for dinner, and if you won't eat it you are locked up in the cellar until you do. It's quite dark, and the black beetles crawl over you. Ugh! Have you ever had a black beetle walk across your face?"
"No!" exclaimed Madge; "I've never touched one. Cook says she sometimes sees them on the kitchen floor at night, but of course we are in bed then."
"Well, think of being shut up in a perfectly dark cellar—"
"Is it underground?" interrupted John.
"Jolly well underground I should say!" continued the boy. "Fifty steps down, and an iron door at the top and the bottom of the stairs, so that however much you shouted nobody could possibly hear you. And nothing but slimy black earth to lie upon."
"How do you know it's black if you are in the dark?" asked Betty, so deeply interested in this terrible tale that she wished to understand every detail.
"I tell you I know it is black!" said the boy sharply. "Black, and covered with pools of dirty water. And there are toads all about. If you don't believe me, though, I won't tell you any more about it."
"Oh, I do believe you! It wasn't that at all," said Betty. "But what a dreadful woman Mrs. Howard must be! Jane says the village people think she is quite mad."
"And who is Jane?"
"She is our nurse-maid. But everybody thinks the same. Very likely Father and Mother do, only they never talk about Mrs. Howard to us."
"I dare say she is mad," said the boy. "I can tell you enough things about her to make your hair stand on end, although I have only been here a week."
"But how did you come here, and what is your name? And how old are you?" asked Madge.
"My name is Lewis Brand, and I was fourteen last Christmas."
"Then you are two years older than me!" cried Madge, this announcement putting everything else out of her head. "I had no idea you were so old as that. And you have been at school?"
"Two schools, and now I have been sent to prison here."
"I shall go to school soon," interposed John, who was rather ashamed of his want of experience before this big boy. John had been kept at home a little longer than would otherwise have been the case, because his mother had a romantic idea that the twins were inseparable. It had lately become apparent, however, that John and Betty were most affectionate when they did not see too much of each other; and since a baby-boy had lately appeared in the nursery, Captain West had felt that his eldest son could be very well spared to go to school.
"Ah, school is bad enough!" said Lewis gloomily. "You wait till you get there! You'll just jolly well wish you were home again! But," he broke off suddenly, "do let us begin to play. Talking all the afternoon is dull work."
It was wonderful how soon the victim of Mrs. Howard's cruelties recovered his spirits when they once started a game. He established himself as chief of a tribe of wild Indians, with the modest title "Bravest of the Brave". And he led his warriors to victory with such shrill battle-cries that the veriest coward would have felt compelled to follow him. The absence of enemies was the chief want that afternoon. They had to pretend that some iron railings on the other side of the field were an army advancing towards them in the distance.
"But it is much more fun when the enemy is alive, so that he runs away and we can hurt him," explained Madge. "Next time we will try to drive the pigs up to this end of the field when we are coming here. They make capital enemies, they scream so beautifully while they are running away."
It seemed to be taken for granted by everybody that in future Lewis would often join the three Wests in their games.
"And I'm sure Mama won't mind your coming to play with us when she hears how cruelly you are treated at home," observed Betty.
"You don't mean to say you were going to tell anybody that you met me here!" cried Lewis excitedly. "Now, that's just like a girl! They never can keep the least bit of a secret. If you say a single word about me to anybody at all I shall never be able to come here any more. And very likely something dreadful will happen to me."
"But Mama would not tell Mrs. Howard if I asked her not. Besides, she doesn't even know her," argued Betty, who was rather frightened at the prospect of keeping such a very large secret for an indefinite period.
"I tell you I shall be put in that dark cellar, and fed—" Lewis suddenly broke off, and whispered in a tone of real terror, "Lie down flat! Keep still! There she is!"
All four children happened to be on the Eagle's Nest at the moment, having just returned from a most violent raid against the Iron-Railing tribe, which, however, did not seem in any hurry to avenge its wrongs by pursuing the enemy back to his stronghold. At Lewis's words they all crouched down on the sticks, making themselves as small as possible. And they looked in the direction to which he silently pointed.
From the height of the Eagle's Nest it was possible to see over the boundary wall into Mrs. Howard's domain. It is a fact, however, that until to-day the children had found this view exceedingly uneventful. At the bottom of the wall there was a small orchard, beyond that a glimpse could be caught of an old-fashioned garden and the end of a brick house. It was all very ordinary and homely-looking, not at all like the surroundings one naturally expects to find associated with deeds of wrong and cruelty. But since the children had heard of the fearful cellar beneath that innocent brick house, they shuddered as they glanced towards it. And to-day for the first time they saw someone moving about the garden.
"Lie still," whispered Lewis, "as still as death! She is coming this way!"
Full of mingled terror and curiosity, Madge, Betty, and John lay motionless, hardly moving an eyelid. It was Lewis who fidgeted decidedly the most, in spite of his having been the one to give the order for silence. And presently through a gate from the garden came an old lady. She was dressed all in gray—gown, shawl, and bonnet, and most delicately clean and neat she looked. In her hand she carried a nosegay of white flowers, and a few paces behind her solemnly stalked a large black cat.
There were only two remarkable things about this old lady's appearance—always excepting her extreme air of daintiness. One was the smallness of her size, the other her funny trick of nodding her head continually. The latter seemed as much a habit with her as breathing; she nodded at the buttercups and daisies beneath her feet, and she nodded at the two sleek cows, who stopped chewing the cud for a moment to gaze back with blinking, white-lashed eyes. She even nodded more than once towards the beech-tree, until Madge made sure that they were discovered, and began to prepare a fine speech, defying Mrs. Howard to trespass one inch on Captain West's land. But after all there was no opportunity for delivering this timely warning, as the old lady glided slowly on through the orchard, and having gently inspected (and nodded to) every individual apple-tree, she returned to the garden and disappeared round a corner of the house, closely followed by the black cat.
"So that's Mrs. Howard!" exclaimed Madge, stretching her cramped limbs after the effort of remaining still so long. "She doesn't look as if she could hurt you very much. Why, I don't believe she is as tall as I am!"
"Perhaps not," replied Lewis. "But I never said she shut me up herself, did I? She keeps a sort of jailer to do that. And she stands and grins on the top step while he is hurling me into the cellar below. You should see her grin!"
"But she looks so gentle," objected Betty.
"I'll tell you the reason of that. It's to deceive people and get them into her clutches," said Lewis. "Now I must be off, or they will half-murder me if they find out where I have been. I'll try and come another day if I can give old Mother Howard the slip." And seizing the rope-ladder, which had been hidden among the branches, he again dropped it over the wall. Climbing down the ladder was a much quicker matter than climbing up, and in a couple of minutes he was safely running across the orchard towards the brick house.
When Lewis Brand had disappeared from sight, the three children left in the Eagle's Nest could scarcely believe that since dinner-time so many curious things had happened. A strange boy, of whose existence they were not aware two hours before, had been playing with them just as if they had known each other all their lives. He had, moreover, told them his history, which was quite as wonderful as many fairy stories. And they had seen the mysterious Mrs. Howard.
These extraordinary new experiences had the effect of quite throwing the rope-ladder into the background, and they actually forgot all about its existence, and descended by the wall in the old way at the warning sound of the tea-bell. John was the first to notice this omission.
"Oughtn't we to climb up again and come down by the ladder?" he said.
"Oh no, bother the ladder!" replied Madge, so curtly that the others stared at her in surprise.
"But the ladder was your idea, your very own idea. And I thought you were so proud of it!" observed Betty in a bewildered voice.
"Oh yes, so I was!" cried Madge impatiently. "But don't you see, so many new things have happened that they have nearly put the old things out of my head. The ladder is quite safe up there twisted round the bough. Barton will never think of looking in the tree even if he does miss it, but it's my belief he doesn't count the ropes all through the summer. Now let us hurry back or there will be a fuss about our keeping tea waiting, and we sha'n't be allowed to go so far away in the fields. You know Miss Thompson once threatened not to let us out of sight of the schoolroom window if we so often came in late."
On the way home Madge impressed upon the other two the necessity of not boasting of their adventure.
"Mayn't we even say that we have seen Mrs. Howard? Not even tell Jane?" they asked.
"Certainly not," said Madge sternly. "It is not our own secret, remember. It is Lewis's. And we have promised him to say nothing about it, so of course we mustn't."
When the case was put that way it certainly sounded right to hold one's tongue. And yet a little time before it had seemed equally right to go home and confess that they had taken the unusual step of talking to a stranger. The younger ones couldn't help feeling that this was very confusing. Besides, it was disappointing to be forbidden to tell Jane that they now knew more about Mrs. Howard even than she did.
They would have discussed the subject all the way home if the sight of Captain West coming to meet them across the fields had not given an entirely new turn to their thoughts. As soon as they came near enough to hear what he said he shouted out:
"Come along quickly! I have been looking for you ever since I came back from Churchbury. There is a surprise for you!"
There was nothing the children liked better than being with their father. He was away a great part of every day attending Magistrates' meetings, Boards of Guardians, and other useful county work. When he came home late in the afternoon, Madge, Betty, and John made such a rush for him that Mrs. West often complained that she could not get any attention until the children had gone to bed. It was no use her trying to talk, she said, every word was drowned by the three loud voices that insisted upon being heard and answered.
At the bare mention of a surprise the children set off running. They knew of old that their father's surprises usually meant a new toy or something good to eat. As they rushed up to him he quietly stepped on one side, and they all three rolled over in a heap.
"That was a fine escape for me," laughed Captain West. "If I hadn't been on the look-out you would have knocked me over too, I suppose. No, I will not be pawed by six dirty hands! There's nothing in my pocket, I tell you!"
"But you said there was a surprise!" panted John, who had not been able to run quite as fast as his sisters, and consequently had fallen on the top of the heap and was the first to rise.
"Quite true! But all surprises aren't made of chocolate, and don't live in my pocket as you seem to think," replied Captain West. "This one came from America. Now guess what it is?"
"But we can't!" shouted three despairing voices. "Oh, please tell us! Do tell us!"
"Nonsense! A little thinking strengthens the mind," said Captain West calmly. "You all learn geography. Now what comes from America?"
"Christopher Columbus!" screamed Betty, who was in such a hurry to answer first that she had not listened very attentively to the question.
"Very well. I promise that if he comes you shall have him all to yourself," observed her father.
"Oh, I didn't mean that! Let me try again!" cried the little girl, who had just discovered from the laughter of the others that she had said something rather foolish.
"No, no! You have had your turn, and if you didn't listen I can't help it. What do you say, Madge?"
"Corn, cotton, india-rubber—"
"Oh, stop! That will do. I don't want the whole geography-book from end to end. What do you say, John?"
"I say the same as the others," replied John, who did not take the trouble to think on his own account, and fancied this statement must be safe.
"What!" cried Captain West, pretending to be much alarmed at the news; "you really think Christopher Columbus and all the products of North and South America have come as a little surprise to us? This is very overpowering. Before proceeding any further in my investigations I shall certainly require some tea to strengthen me;" and he started off walking rapidly towards the house.
"Papa! That's too bad! We can't eat any tea until we know what it is!" they all shouted.
"I am sorry for that," said Captain West coolly; "because I happen to be very hungry, as I only had a biscuit for lunch at Churchbury. It will be rather dull work watching me, I am afraid."
At this moment Mrs. West appeared at the drawing-room window, holding up a cup as a signal to her husband that his tea was ready. He hurried towards her immediately, telling the children that he should be ready in a quarter of an hour. So there was nothing for it but to wash their hands and run to the schoolroom, where they arrived just in time to save the jam, which was in the very act of being carried out of the room. And after all, in spite of their excitement, they contrived to make a very good tea, for it was a long time since dinner, and they had hardly been still for a moment.
Mrs. West was not very strong, so that she had to spend a great deal of the day on the sofa, and could seldom join in the children's out-door amusements. But this surprise from America was so exceptionally interesting that she declared she must come out and see it; so, with a shawl carefully tied round her, she accompanied her husband and children to the stables after tea.
"Take care!" cried Captain West, with his hand on the latch of one of the stable doors; "take care it doesn't jump out!"
"Is it alive? Can it run? Will it bite?" asked the children in astonishment.
But before they had time to say more the door was opened, and they caught sight of two most graceful little goats shrinking timidly into a corner.
"Are they for us?" inquired Madge, in a wondering tone of voice; for, so far, they had never owned anything larger than a pet rabbit, and the idea of having these beautiful goats for their own seemed almost too good to be true.
"They are absolutely your property," said Captain West. "I have nothing to do with them at all, except that I suppose I shall have the honour of paying for what they eat and break."
"Oh, Papa! They look much too dainty to break anything with their tiny little hoofs," said Madge reproachfully. "And I can see they will eat very little. But how do you think we had better divide two between three of us?"
"There are several ways," replied her father. "You might have the heads, Betty the bodies, and John the tails."
But this suggestion did not give entire satisfaction.
"If Madge wanted to feed her heads in the stable just when I had my bodies out walking on the road, how should we manage?" asked Betty.
"That is indeed a difficult question to decide," said Captain West thoughtfully. "I see that it is a much more difficult matter to keep goats than I had ever imagined. Perhaps after all it would be safer to send them back to America?"
"Oh, no! But I see you don't mean it!" cried Madge. "You are only joking."
"I don't know about that," said her father. "It isn't a very joking matter. One of my old friends who has been lately travelling about America just writes to say that he has brought back a charming pair of little goats, and as he can't keep them in his London house he is sending them as a present to my children. He might have consulted me first, I think, especially as the goats arrived a few hours after the letter."
"Oh, but you wouldn't have stopped them? They are such darlings!" cried Madge. "They won't give any trouble, and they will draw a little cart."
"Well, they look rather wild for that kind of work at present," observed Captain West; "but I dare say they will grow tamer. And as they are here I suppose I must make the best of them, as I do of wasps and rats."
"How can you compare them to such nasty things?" demanded Madge indignantly. "Although I know you only do it to tease us! And now we must think of names. That is always so hard, because we can never quite agree about names. The white mice all died before we could make up our minds what to call them."
"Then I am thankful to say the poor goats will be saved from that fate," said her father. "My friend expressly says that they have names. They are called Jack and Jill!"
The excitement of the goats' arrival quite put all thoughts of Lewis Brand and his wonderful story out of the children's heads. Fortunately the evenings were light and long, for there was a great deal to be done before the two pets could be considered safely housed for the night. Captain West objected to their remaining any longer in the stables as he could not spare the room, so there was a great discussion about where they could be shut up for the night. At last it was decided that a railed-off corner of the cow-house, where calves generally lived, would be very suitable, and in the daytime, of course, they could be loose in the fields with the other animals. As they seemed rather wild, it was safer to shut them up at night for fear of their wandering away. So the children were at last persuaded to leave them for the night, with a plentiful supply of fresh grass, in case they should wake and feel hungry.
"What a lot of things have happened to-day!" exclaimed Betty when she and Madge were both in bed, and Jane had left the room with her usual piece of good advice to them to go to sleep at once. Two children occupying beds in the same room were not very likely to take such a sensible piece of advice, and in point of fact Madge and Betty often talked away merrily for a long time. "Sometimes it seems as if nothing happened for weeks, and to-day there are so many things I can hardly remember them all," continued Betty. "Doesn't it seem a long time since we let down the rope-ladder and that boy climbed into the Eagle's Nest?"
"Yes. But do be quiet, I want to go to sleep," said Madge rather crossly. She had been feeling so much happier since she had quite forgotten Lewis Brand and the difficulties connected with him, that she was not at all grateful for having the whole affair brought back to her mind again.
But Betty could not leave the subject alone. "Do you think Lewis is a nice boy?" she inquired. "I didn't like him at first, because he has such a white face and hardly any eyebrows!"
"What a silly reason for not liking a person," said Madge. "As if they could help their eyebrows!"
"I know it's silly," returned Betty humbly. "But don't you find it very difficult to like people when they have nasty faces?"
"I never think about their faces," said Madge in a superior way. "If they are jolly I like them soon enough, however ugly they are!"
"Oh, so do I!" exclaimed Betty, now rather ashamed of her criticisms as she found that Madge considered them silly. "At first I thought he was going to be rather proud and stuck-up because he was so much older than we are, but afterwards he seemed very nice when we began to play. I wonder if we shall ever see him again?"
"I'm sure I don't know! Let us go to sleep now, I'm tired of talking;" and Madge burrowed so deeply under the bed-clothes that it was quite impossible to carry on any sort of conversation with her.
Perhaps it was because Madge went to sleep rather early that evening that she was enabled to wake proportionately early the following morning. It was fairly light and fine, though not sunny. She got out of bed and went to the window. Madge invariably looked out of the window the first thing in the morning, but to-day she was rewarded by seeing something that had never met her eyes before.
On the lawn, directly in front of the house, was a large flower-bed, containing many roses of different colours. They were Mrs. West's favourite flowers, and even when she could not go out, she enjoyed seeing them from the drawing-room window. In the middle of this flower-bed now stood Jack and Jill, cropping off and devouring dozens of rose-buds with evident relish.
Madge rubbed her eyes and looked again. It was no dream, and there was no possibility of a mistake. She had seen the goats safely shut into the calves' house the night before, and here they were loose and walking about the garden. She could not understand in the least how it had happened; but nevertheless it was a fact. And, moreover, they were eating her mother's favourite roses as fast as they could. She tapped gently on the window-pane, but the goats took absolutely no notice. At this rate there would not be a rose left by the time the gardener came to work.
A great idea occurred to Madge. We know that she was rather independent, as befitted the eldest of a family, and decidedly fond of managing things her own way. So it presently came about that she decided not to let the roses be eaten, and not to disturb anybody else, but to drive Jack and Jill out of the garden all by herself. Perhaps it seemed rather unkind not to wake Betty, who was sleeping quietly in her little bed in the other corner of the room. However, she looked so comfortable that it was almost a pity to disturb her, and after all she was two years younger than Madge, and could not reasonably expect to do exactly the same things as her elder sister. She would be very full of reproaches when she woke up, but Madge resolved to risk a little sisterly abuse sooner than permit anyone to share the glory of her exploit.
It really does not take very long to dress if one omits all ornamental additions, and dispenses with everything in the shape of a bath! Jack and Jill had not time to do more than taste the succulent young shoots of half a dozen rose-trees before Madge had crept downstairs and quietly opened the front-door. Then with a half-suppressed shout of battle she rushed towards them, waving a walking-stick which she had the presence of mind to snatch up in passing through the hall. The goats both gave a guilty start at the first sound, and then crossed the lawn in a series of most amazing bounds. Madge afterwards compared them to gigantic grasshoppers; and, indeed, as she panted hopelessly behind them, she would scarcely have felt surprised if one of her nimble pets had, with a higher leap than usual, suddenly perched on the bough of a tree or the roof of a house!
Madge had often laughed at her father's little terrier, Snap, for chasing the sparrows up and down the lawn in the vain hope of some day catching them, but she soon began to realize that she had started on quite as hopeless an enterprise herself. However rapidly she ran along the paths, however stealthily she stalked behind the bushes, Jack and Jill proved quicker and more artful. When, with untold trouble, she had driven them into a corner, and was advancing with outstretched hands to grasp their pert little horns, they would just toss their heads, and without any apparent effort skip right over her shoulder and be off half across the garden almost before she could turn round.
"I do believe I shall have to go back and fetch Betty after all," muttered Madge, when this sort of thing had gone on so long that she was fairly tired out. "Not that she can run half as fast as I can, her legs are so short! But she could help. I really can't be expected to do all the work by myself!"
Madge was getting tired, and consequently cross. So, rather funnily, she was beginning to feel it quite a grievance that nobody had come out to help her to drive the goats, forgetting that it was entirely her own wish to undertake the job alone. As she somewhat sullenly walked towards the house, she prepared several severe speeches to be addressed to Betty on the selfishness of lying in bed and leaving her sister to do all the work. But just as she was getting into a state of considerable indignation, out of the open front-door walked her father.
Captain West had evidently dressed in a hurry like his daughter. In point of fact he had been suddenly wakened by one of Madge's involuntary cries, for though she had every intention of being very quiet, she could not altogether suppress an occasional shout when the goats were unusually irritating. He had started up and looked into the passage. All seemed quiet, but a gleam of light in the hall below showed him that the front-door was open. Between three and four o'clock in the morning this was a fairly peculiar circumstance. So, returning to his room he hastily slipped on the first clothes he came across and proceeded downstairs, to find out who was about at that early hour.
"Hullo, Madge! What on earth are you doing?" he exclaimed, as he suddenly found himself face to face with his eldest daughter.
Madge explained the whole story in rather a confused, disjointed sort of way. It was not at all the triumphal return to the house that she had planned. If things had gone as she intended she would easily have caught Jack and Jill; they would have come to eat a little grass out of her hand, and then she would gently but firmly have led them back to the calves' house. Here she would have secured the door more skilfully than her elders had done the previous evening, so that there would have been no further possibility of escape for the prisoners. And then she would have strolled quietly back to the house, and explained to an admiring audience at breakfast-time what precautions she had taken for the safety of the garden while the more negligent members of the family slept. It was certainly very disappointing to be treated by her father as a naughty child instead of a heroine, and scolded for her stupidity in running out on the wet grass in thin shoes.
"But I couldn't expect it to be wet in the summer," replied Madge, who would seldom admit that she was in the wrong without an argument.
"Don't talk nonsense!" said Captain West severely. He would play with the children all day, and readily forgive them any damage they did through carelessness, but he never could stand their trying to argue that wrong was right. "You know as much about dew as I do," he continued; "and I have put on thick boots while you have been running about for an hour in dripping wet shoes."
It was quite impossible to deny this, for Madge's feet presented a most miserable appearance. She had been running through the shrubberies, where the long wet grass reached up to her knees, and her kid shoes were also scratched and muddy.
"If I go in and put on thick boots may I come out again and help you to drive the goats?" inquired Madge anxiously.
Seeing how very wet she was, Captain West did not dare grant this request, but ordered her straight back to bed. With many a grumble Madge returned to her room and threw all her clothes in a heap on the floor. Then she slowly climbed into bed, protesting to herself that she should be sure to lie awake until it was time to get up, in spite of which resolve she fell asleep in about two minutes.
Whether Jack and Jill thought that Captain West did not look like a person to be trifled with, or whether they were really getting a little tired of their prolonged frolic, it is impossible to say. At all events, soon after he appeared they allowed themselves to be quietly driven to the end of the garden and out through the door into the farmyard, where they remained until Barton came to milk the cows in the morning.
"I'll tell you what it is, children," said Captain West briskly as he entered the dining-room rather late for breakfast, "if these pets of yours are going to keep me trotting about the garden at night I shall lose my excellent character for punctuality in the morning. Why, here is Madge coming down late too, and looking very displeased with the world. I don't know if Jack and Jill are responsible for her frowns as well as my lateness; if so, they have a good deal upon their consciences!"
The fact of the matter was, that poor Madge was labouring under a grievance. In the morning she and Betty usually tried who should get down earliest to breakfast, and to-day, as might have been expected, Madge's shoes had shrunk up so uncomfortably after their wetting that she could not get them on without a great deal of rough handling. And then, to make matters worse, Nurse had declared that they were still damp, and made her take them off again to be put in front of the fire and thoroughly dried. Of course Betty was downstairs and half through a basin of bread-and-milk before Madge appeared, with a very gloomy countenance.
However, Captain West could not abide melancholy faces around the table, and he began to make such outrageous suggestions about a fitting punishment for the goats who had disturbed his night's rest, that at last even Madge was compelled to relax into a smile.
"Oh, don't pretend you will shave them, Papa! I don't believe anybody could make them stand still enough to be shaved," she said. "And as for harnessing them to the brougham, you know they are so small they would slip through the horses' great collars. But it would be very nice to have a tiny cart that they really could draw," she added wistfully.
"I think the first thing is to accustom your steeds to come when they are called," replied Captain West. "It will be very awkward if, whenever you want to go for a drive, you have to chase them up hill and down dale for an hour before you can catch them."
Acting on this suggestion, the children spent all their spare moments during the next day or two in trying to make friends with the goats. They were so successful, that at last Jack would consent to be led about by a bit of string tied to one of his horns, almost as quietly as a little dog. Jill remained shy to the last, and in spite of being perpetually offered the most tempting bits of carrot, could never summon up sufficient courage to eat anything out of the children's hands.
"Now that Jack is so tame he shall join in all our games," said Madge. So the children led him about everywhere with them in the garden and fields. But they never dared let go the string, or he would be off, running and leaping into the most extraordinary places before they could come up with him again.
Poor Barton was much perplexed where to shut up the two goats at night. The cow-house was a perfect failure; Jack and Jill stayed in it just as long as they liked, and not a moment longer. Unless all the doors and windows were shut, which was very stuffy in hot weather, there was no keeping them in an instant after they had decided to take a walk. And if they got out, they were not content to stay in the fields, but always found their way into the garden, where they cropped off the most cherished shrubs and flowers.
At last Barton hit on the plan of putting them into an empty pig-sty for the night and spreading a piece of old netting over the opening. This was very successful for a time.
When Jack was sufficiently tamed to be led about it occurred to the children that they might now introduce him to the Eagle's Nest. They had rather neglected their fortress of late, having had so much occupation at home with the goats; in fact they had not visited the beech-tree for nearly a week, not since the eventful day when they had seen Mrs. Howard and made acquaintance with Lewis Brand. In the new interest of training Jack and Jill everything else had been forgotten. But as they came near the Eagle's Nest all their old excitement in it revived.
"Will Jack have to walk up the grand staircase or the rope-ladder?" inquired John. "Or shall we have to lift him?"
"We can't stretch high enough to do that," observed Betty.
It was left to Madge as usual to decide this important question. She gave it as her opinion that with a little help from behind Jack could mount the grand staircase. "I will go up first," she said, "and pull at his horns. Then I can let down the rope-ladder for you two."
"I thought we left the rope-ladder coiled round that bough just above the Eagle's Nest," remarked Betty, "but I can't see it there now."
"Little Blind Eyes! Of course it must be there. I twisted it round the branch rather tightly, on purpose that it shouldn't show from below!" cried Madge rather impatiently, for she was leading Jack by a piece of string, and as he continually hung back to nibble bits of grass that looked especially tempting, it required a great deal of waiting about and coaxing to get along at all.
"I can't see it there now," repeated Betty obstinately.
"Oh, don't go on staring up at that old rope-ladder!" exclaimed Madge, "You just hold Jack at the bottom of the tree while I climb the grand staircase. And then, when I am ready to pull his horns, both push him from behind as hard as you can."
Whether Jack was more active even than they had credited him with being, or whether the twins pushed harder than had been expected, will never be known. At all events, long before Madge was firmly seated on the Eagle's Nest there was a terrific scramble, and the goat bounded past her almost knocking her out of the tree. In the struggle not to fall she very naturally dropped the leading-string and clung with both hands to a bough. Jack took advantage of his opportunity. Without pausing more than a second on the Eagle's Nest he skipped lightly on to the top of the boundary wall, and from there took a tremendous jump right into Mrs. Howard's orchard.
"He's gone!" shrieked Madge. "Oh, what shall we do!"
Quite overcome by this unforeseen calamity, the children actually forgot to quarrel among themselves about who was responsible for the accident. They all crouched down on the sticks composing the Eagle's Nest, and watched almost in silence the scene that was going on down in the orchard. At first Jack appeared frantic with delight at having regained his freedom and discovered a new playground. He scampered round and round the orchard, kicking up his heels, and disturbing horribly the placid old cows who were standing half asleep in the shade, chewing the cud and slowly whisking their tails to drive the flies off their sleek backs. But after a time it seemed as if Jack began to feel rather strange amidst his new surroundings. He left off frisking, and wandered restlessly about the orchard as if searching for some way to get out. Once or twice he looked up at the wall and bleated rather piteously.
"He wants to get back," said Betty. "Do you think he can possibly jump up the wall again?" She spoke almost in a whisper, having an uncomfortable feeling that if Mrs. Howard heard strange voices she might appear as suddenly as she had done on the last occasion.
"It's too high and straight even for Jack," replied Madge sadly. "You know the trunk of the tree helped him on this side, and, besides, you and John were both pushing him from behind."
"I've thought of a way," cried Betty. "Only I'm not quite sure whether I should dare to do it. I would, if you promised to come with me. It is for two of us to go down the rope-ladder into the orchard and try to catch Jack, and then—"
"Push him up the wall again, you mean?" interrupted Madge eagerly. "Yes, we'll do it! It's the only way we can get Jack back."
"But won't it be trespassing to go into Mrs. Howard's field?" inquired John.
This suggestion rather damped the spirits of the party. They knew that if you were caught trespassing, very terrible though ill-defined things might happen. When Barton found that village boys had been walking over the farm, searching for birds' nests and trampling down the mowing grass, he always said they had better not let him catch them trespassing or they would never forget it. He never condescended to explain exactly what punishment awaited them; but it sounded rather like imprisonment for life, with hard labour. So the little Wests grew up with a wholesome terror of being found trespassing, believing that such an offence might lead to something much more severe than the scolding at home, which was all the punishment they received for ordinary acts of mischief.
"Perhaps it would not count as trespassing if we stood on the rope-ladder," said Betty hopefully. "And Jack might come to us if we called him. Anyhow, we could climb up again quickly if we saw Mrs. Howard coming, and she could never say that we had been exactly on her land."
"I tell you what," said Madge after a moment's thought, "I shall go down the rope-ladder after Jack even if I have to run into the middle of the field to catch him. And if it's trespassing I can't help it. You two can sit in the Eagle's Nest and warn me if you see any danger. I would rather do it all by myself."
When Madge spoke in that decided kind of way, the younger ones knew that she had made up her mind. And they were justly proud of her bravery and energy. But an unexpected obstacle prevented Madge from carrying her heroic design into execution. When they began to search for the rope-ladder it was not there!
No doubt Madge had been perfectly correct in saying that she had left it safely coiled round a branch, the last time they played at the Eagle's Nest. Only Betty had been equally right as she crossed the field in saying that she could not see it there to-day. The children would probably have noticed its disappearance much sooner if they had not been so absorbed in watching Jack. There seemed really nothing left to be done; for even Madge with all her length of limb and daring courage could not get up or down a wall ten feet high without any help.