"Oh, my heart grows weak as a woman's,And the fountain of feeling will flowWhen I think of the paths, steep and stony,That the feet of the dear ones must go."Oh, those truants from earth and from heaven,They have made me more manly and mild;And I know now how Jesus could likenThe kingdom of God to a child!"Charles Dickens.
"Oh, my heart grows weak as a woman's,And the fountain of feeling will flowWhen I think of the paths, steep and stony,That the feet of the dear ones must go.
"Oh, those truants from earth and from heaven,They have made me more manly and mild;And I know now how Jesus could likenThe kingdom of God to a child!"
Charles Dickens.
Roughly the spell of the picture was broken by the loud voice of Joe Harris.
"Hillao!" he cried, by way of general greeting to the troupe around the fire.—"Any grub ready, Bambo?"
The dwarf glanced round from the pot which he was carefully stirring with a long-handled wooden spoon, and then Darby noticed how gentle was the expression of his deep-set eyes.
"Yes," he answered, in a curious, husky voice, thin and vibrating; "supper has been ready an hour and more. It's done to rags by this time, I'm afraid. We thought, from what you said, that you would have been here long before now," he added, speaking more correctly than Mr. Harris himself—differently, somehow, from what one would have expected from his uncouth appearance.
"So we should, only we were delayed by business—importantbusiness," said Mr. Harris grandly, "and a good stroke o't, I can tell you! See what we've brought wi' us, Bambo—the missis an' me," he explained, pointing to the children, who were seated side by side upon the grass, for Moll had retired within the caravan. Joan was awake now and sobbing wildly, while Darby was doing his utmost to soothe her by every artifice of which he was master.
"Who are these children, and why have you brought them here?" demanded the dwarf sternly, as he left his stew-pot and came over beside the frightened little creatures, who clung to each other as if for dear life. "Have you been at your thieving tricks again, Joe Harris?" he asked angrily, yet there was an expression of keen anxiety in the kindly gaze he bent upon the captives.
"Come, now, none o' your cheek!" growled the ruffian savagely, though his eye fell before the dwarf's straight look and meaning tone. "Who are they, you're askin'?" he went on in a milder voice. "Why, jest two beggar brats we found wanderin' on the hillside. As towhatthey are, you'll see by-an'-by," he added, with a satisfied chuckle. "Look ee here now, Bambo," he continued, trying to be conciliatory, "there's no use in turnin' crusty. Haven't I learned you long ago that Joe Harris isn't the man to put up wi' no nonsense? All right, that's settled, then. Now, don't you think we've run this company on narrow lines long enough? Anyway I do, an' we're goin' to widen them—to strike out on fresh ones. What would you say to a tight-rope dancer an' a trapeze performer added to the attractions o' the troupe, eh?"
But the dwarf made no reply; he only continued to watch the pathetic-looking little pair, as with kisses and caresses they bravely strove to comfort one another.
"Wouldn't that boy be the very thing for it?" resumed Joe, after a moment's pause. "Isn't he jest the cut for an aeronaut, an' the right age to train as an acrobat? An' the gel! Look ee here!" and roughly snatching Joan from her seat at Darby's side, Joe swung her over to where the big furry bundle, which was the bear, and the mimic soldier—tired probably from their recent gambols—lay huddled in a heap together, and dropped her down on the grass beside them.
"Here, Bruno, get up," he shouted, giving the creature a heavy kick with his coarse boot. "Rise, sir, an' salute your new playfellow."
The bear growled, stirred, and with a lazy stretch of his big body slowly rose upon his hind legs and approached his master; while the monkey climbed, chattering and jabbering, to the roof of the caravan.
Darby and the dwarf had followed close at Joe's heel; and when the boy saw the huge beast, with sparkling eyes and slavering mouth, tower right above his little sister and heard her screams of terror, he felt, just for a moment, sick with fear.
"You brute!" exclaimed the dwarf, in his thin, hoarse voice, as he reached up his long arms and firmly gripped Bruno by the leather collar which was round his neck. But whether he addressed the man or the beast was not quite clear, and certainly Joe Harris did not care to inquire.
Joan had flung herself in her panic on Darby's shoulder, with her small, wet face buried in the bosom of his old velveteen blouse. The awful faint feeling passed from him at the touch of those clinging arms around his neck, and with indignant eyes and flushed cheeks he turned and faced the great, ugly bully, who only laughed, as if enjoying the sight of their distress.
"How dare you frighten my sister so?" he demanded haughtily. "Why did you bring us here if you only wanted to be rude to us? You are cruel, and a coward as well; for my father says that only cowards would try to frighten children or helpless things. Wait until I go home," said the little fellow boldly, forgetting in his excitement that he had deliberately left home for altogether, "and I shall tell him about you. Then you'll be punished as you deserve," he added loftily.
But as Darby uttered this threat a wave of memory swept over him with an overwhelming rush. Father! what couldhedo to help or deliver them, away in Africa, or maybe lying dead somewhere? Joe and Moll might ill-treat them as they chose before father should be able to interfere. And mother! Father in Africa or killed, mother in heaven! and with one bitter, thrilling cry the boy's brave spirit gave way, and he sank unconscious at Joe Harris's feet.
Mr. Harris gave expression to his amusement in a whistle.
"That's capital!" he cried; "the best piece o' actin' I've seed this many's the day! Eh, Bambo, what do you think o'thatfor an amatoor? Why, it 'ud bring down the house, I declare!"
But Bambo did not answer, not by so much as a single glance. He was crouching on the grass beside the boy.
Then Joe shoved the sobbing Joan aside, stooped over the limp figure of the child, and satisfied himself that he had only fainted. Afterwards he followed his wife within the caravan, whistling gaily as he went.
Tonio, the negro lad, slid near the group, and with wide, rolling eyes stared at Darby's motionless form and white face. Bruno had rolled himself up again comfortably, and was preparing to resume his nap just where he had left off when his master so rudely aroused him. Joan had hushed her sobs, although now and again a long, shuddering sigh shook her little body from head to foot, as with small, smudgy fingers she gently stroked her brother's cheek. Puck, the monkey, had skipped nimbly from his perch on the chimney of the caravan and found another more to his mind on top of Tonio's woolly head, where he sat glowering and grinning at the group, as if he wanted to ask, only he couldn't in words, "What's the matter, friends? what's to do?"
Bambo raised the boy from the grass, pillowed the drooping head against his own broad shoulder, chafed his hands, and put some water to his lips, which Tonio carried from the spring that bubbled up from out the mossy ground beneath the fir trees. Soon he recovered, and was able to sit up in the dwarf's arms and look about him.
Then he remembered everything—where he was, what had happened—and his face grew white again.
"There, there, sonny, don't fret any more; and don't cry, either of you," added Bambo, gently laying one long, lean arm around Joan's shoulder. "If you do you'll make the master angry, and maybe he'll beat you. You needn't be afraid of Bruno; he's perfectly quiet, except when he's angered: besides, he's chained."
"Are you quite, quite sure?" asked Joan timidly, glancing nervously in the direction of the bear.
"Certain, positive!" answered Bambo, smiling into the eager faces raised so confidingly to his, while an odd, unaccustomed thrill stirred his pulse and warmed his heart. "If you look you'll see where the chain that's attached to his collar is fastened to the back of the caravan."
"And will the monkey bite us?" again asked the little one.
"Puck! Puck bite! Why no, bless your heart!" and this time the dwarf actually laughed. "Puck's about as old as Methuselah, and hasn't got a tooth in his head! He'll maybe pull your hair if he takes the notion, and that's the worst Puck 'll do to you.
"Hark! there's master calling," cried Bambo, shuffling to his feet as a roar resounded from the caravan like the growling of a lion near feeding-time. "Sit there, and I'll bring you some of my stew. It's made of pheasant and partridge, and very nice, I assure you."
"There, fellow, that'll do," shouted Joe, standing on the steps of the caravan; "you've palavered plenty over them brats. Leave them to howl theirselves to sleep if they like, but bring me my supper," he commanded angrily—for Mr. Harris was hungry, and somebody who knows about such things says that "a hungry man is an angry man"—then with a bang of the door and an ugly word he disappeared again. And as the dwarf dished up the supper he muttered to himself,—
"God help you, poor innocents! You have fallen into bad hands when you fell into the clutches of Moll Harris and Thieving Joe!"
He carried a plateful of dainty morsels out of his stew to where the children waited far back beyond the firelight and the limit of the bear's chain. He sat on the grass beside them, coaxing and scolding them by turns, until they forgot their fears and made a hearty supper, finished off by a draught of sparkling water from the spring.
Just at first the tiny man with the long arms, pale, sad face, and queer croaking voice had alarmed the little ones, because they had never seen any one the least like Bambo before. But when they discovered how gentle was the touch of those thin hands and bony arms, how kind and soothing the tones of that croaky voice, all their fears vanished. Darby determined that he would never again listen to unkind remarks about deformed persons, and Joan cuddled close beside her new friend in a most confiding fashion.
"Why has you taken no goody supper?" she asked him when all had finished, and the fire had sunk to a glow of red embers mixed with feathery flakes of ash. "Isn't you hungry? or did you take too big a tea?"
"Well, little one, I don't think I did. I'm just not hungry to-night. Grown-up folks don't usually be so keen-set as youngsters, you know," replied Bambo, looking down into the blue eyes that scanned him so curiously.
"Butyouisn't a grown-up," cried the child, in an amused tone. "You're just 'bout as big as Darby, only with a queer man-face an' grown-up arms. Does you call yourself a boy or a man?" she asked seriously, and without a hint of mockery. She merely desired information.
"Joan!" said Darby, in a distressed whisper, at the same time giving her a dig with his elbow, almost pushing her over.
Joan was going to make a fuss, when Bambo put in quickly, "Hush, missy! you mustn't do that, or Moll will hear you. Let me try to answer your question, although I hardly know how. I'm only a boy in size, as you say—a small boy; yet in years I am a man, for I was four-and-twenty last May, the tenth of May," he added thoughtfully. "But I'm not a man as other men.—And you need not mind your sister saying that I'm not grown up," he continued, laying a thin hand on Darby's dark head, "for neither I am—leastways not like other folks.—I'm a dwarf, dearies—a poor, stunted bit of a thing like yon fir over yonder that has grown this way, that way, and every way except straight up and down like the rest of the trees about it. I'm Bambo the dwarf, Joe Harris's musical dwarf," and the little man laughed whimsically.
"Maybe I'll be different in the next world," he continued, after a moment's silence, which the children did not break, as they could think of nothing suitable to say, therefore tactfully held their peace. "I hope I shall, IbelieveI shall," he added, with a far-away look in his eyes, as if he had become unconscious of his audience; "for has not the blessed Lord Himself said, 'Behold, I make all things new'?"
Here he was seized with a violent fit of coughing, which shook his poor frame sadly, and left him panting and spent.
"You's got a werry bad cold," said Joan, with a pretty air of concern. "Can't you take some nashty medicine or sticky sweeties or cough drops to make you better?"
"Our nurse or our aunt always rubs us with stuff called 'lyptus, and sometimes puts a poultice on when we've got cold," Darby remarked. "I don't s'pose they'll have any 'lyptus in the caravan; but wouldn't you try the poultice?"
"Ay, sonny; only it wouldn't do me any good. I never was used with physic or poulticing; and I'll be better soon without anything," answered the dwarf, trying to stifle another fit of coughing lest it should distress the little ones. "I'll be quite well, in fact—before long, too," he added softly, with his shrunken face raised to the sky whence, with shining, sleepless eyes, the stars looked down upon the odd little group as if they were God's sentinels guarding the outposts where danger lurked.
"P'raps you shouldn't sit on the grass; it's usually damp at night," said Darby, in that quaint, old-world way of his which always attracted people greatly even when it most amused them. "Nurse doesn't allow us to sit on the grass when we're not well.—Sure she doesn't, Joan?"
"Never, never!" Joan affirmed solemnly, shaking her tangled golden head.
The dwarf got to his feet.
"Very well; I'll have to obey, I suppose," he said with a smile. "Now, I must find out where you two are to be put up for the night. It's high time you were under shelter. This sort of thing," he went on, waving his hand towards the open space, the caravan, the dying fire, and the chained bear, "is not what you're used to; anybody with half an eye could see that—even Joe, although it suits his purpose to pretend he doesn't. To-morrow you'll tell me all about your home and your people, and how you wandered this way, and everything. Then we'll see what's to be done next," he added under his breath.
Moll carried the children off to the caravan, where Mr. Harris was already sleeping the sound sleep which is generally supposed to be the outcome of an easy conscience. She was about to bundle them, clothes and all, into a bed hastily spread upon what to Darby looked like a narrow shelf. He was too sleepy to offer any objections to the arrangement; but Joan stoutly resisted, declaring that she never went to bed without being undressed and saying her prayers.
"Boo-oo!" she wailed, putting her knuckles into her eyes. "I wants a nightgown, and I wants to say my p'ayers," she persisted.
"Shut up, will you!" ordered Moll, giving the little girl a rude shake. She would have slapped her, only she dared not disturb her better half, for then the blows might have gone round. "I ha'n't got no nightgownd for ee," she went on, in an angry undertone; "but ee can take off yer frock an' wrap the shawl roun' ee." Which Joan proceeded to do, although she felt that nurse's old tartan shoulder-shawl was but a sorry substitute for a nightgown.
"Now I's goin' to say my p'ayers," she said, kneeling on the bare floor at this prayerless woman's knee, with closed eyes and piously-folded hands—a pathetic little figure in her comical attire. "You'll say the big words and join in the 'amen.' That's what nurse does. Is you ready? Now—
"Gentle Jesus, meek'n mild,Look upon a ickle child,Pity my—'I can't say it!'—Suffer me to come to Thee."Fain I would to Thee be brought;Dea'est Lord, forbid it not;In the kin'dom of Thy gwaceGive a ickle Joan a place. Amen!"
"Gentle Jesus, meek'n mild,Look upon a ickle child,Pity my—'I can't say it!'—Suffer me to come to Thee.
"Fain I would to Thee be brought;Dea'est Lord, forbid it not;In the kin'dom of Thy gwaceGive a ickle Joan a place. Amen!"
After the "amen" Joan opened her big blue eyes and looked steadily at Moll without rising from her knees. The woman fidgeted on her seat, toyed with the amber beads on her neck, but she would not meet the pure gaze fixed upon her; for there was a tremulousness about her lips, a moisture in her eyes, a sense of ashamedness all over her which she did not wish the child to see.
But Joandidsee, and vaguely understood that here there was somewhat amiss, and forthwith proceeded to offer her sympathy after her own fashion, which, when all is said, is about the oldest and sweetest form that sympathy can take. Silently she got to her feet, climbed on Moll's lap, and laid a kiss—light as a snowflake, holy as a benediction, pregnant as a prayer—upon the woman's broad, sunburnt brow. Then she tumbled on to the shelf beside Darby, and soon both were wrapped in the deep, dreamless sleep of wearied childhood.
A few hours afterwards quite an air of stir and bustle pervaded the encampment. The crossbars for the support of pots and pans were taken down; scattered utensils were gathered up and stowed away; Bruno was driven into his cage under the body of the van; the wandering horses were caught, harnessed, and put in their places; and soon the Satellite Circus Company was on the move once more. For Joe and Moll had not failed to observe the dwarf's openly-evinced interest in their captives; and fearing that he might take it into his head to decamp during the night, carrying the children along with him, they quickly made up their minds to push on and put as many miles as the horses could cover between them and the possibility of escape, pursuit, or capture before daylight the next morning.
The little ones slept soundly side by side on their narrow shelf; the bear snarled uneasily behind his iron bars, with only an inch of plank between his hairy embrace and their soft young bodies; the monkey curled closer into the warmth of Tonio's black breast; the dwarf sat on his perch above the plodding piebalds, watching the stars and speculating about the pretty children—who they were, whence they came, and what would be their fate if left to the tender mercies of Thieving Joe and his bold wife Moll.
It was broad daylight when Darby and Joan awoke and sat up to look about them. For a few minutes they remembered nothing of what had occurred, and could not make out where they were. Oh yes, of course, Darby at length understood. They were in a caravan where they had sheltered all night, not very far from the foot of that hill over whose summit lay the entrance to the country which they had set out to seek.
He slid cautiously off the shelf, helped Joan to put on her frock and tie her shawl round her again; then they opened the door, stole down the steps, and there they paused in dismay. The caravan had come to a standstill, and been drawn up on the edge of a stretch of dreary common; the horses were unyoked, and grazing near by. Along the further boundary of the common wound a broad, level highway, bordered by a wide footpath; and in the distance, from the valley front, rose the towers, spires, and smoking chimneys of a large-sized town. But Firgrove, Hill Difficulty, and the Happy Land all lay behind—far, far away!
"Heaven lies about us in our infancy."Wordsworth.
"Heaven lies about us in our infancy."
Wordsworth.
"To be good is to be happy; angelsAre happier than men because they're better."Rowe.
"To be good is to be happy; angelsAre happier than men because they're better."
Rowe.
"Now, please, Mrs. Joe, will you show Joan and me the nearest way to the place where you found us?" asked Darby in all good faith when they had finished their breakfast. It had been a most unusual one for them, and not much of a treat: the bread was dry, the bacon strong smelling, the bitter coffee guiltless of either cream or milk, and poor Joan made many a wry face in her efforts to get it down.
"Time enough, time enough," answered Mrs. Joe cheerily, yet with a shamefaced look. "What's yer hurry? Are you so keen to leave us, eh?" she asked, fixing her bold, smiling eyes on the earnest countenance of the little lad.
"No—that is—ah—not 'zactly," stammered Darby, feeling himself in a fix between truth and politeness. "We didn't come on a visit, you know; we came only for the night. And you promised to let us go this morning after breakfast, and to show us the way."
Molly only laughed, looking this way and that; but Joe began roughly,—
"Look ee here now, young Hop-o'-my-thumb, we've had enough o' this humbug. Ye're both here, an' here ye're goin' to stay till I've done wi' ye. Do you heed?" he shouted, gripping Darby by the shoulder and giving him a hearty shake, while the dwarf's sunken eyes flashed with an angry gleam.
Joan began to whimper softly into the folds of her tartan shawl, but Darby looked from the black-browed woman to the coarse, red-haired man with stern, reproachful eyes.
"You promised—shepromised," he said bravely, although his lips were quivering piteously, and all the healthy colour had fled from his cheeks, leaving them pale as the petals of a faded white rose.
Moll laughed again more loudly than before. Did the little softy really believe that big folks meant everything they said? And looking into her broadly-smiling face and unscrupulous eyes, Darby Dene had his first lesson in the meaning of deceit. He there and then began to realize that there are people in the world to whom falsehood comes easy, who think little or nothing of a broken vow.
"Why do you wish us to stay with you?" he asked, turning to Joe as the more hopeful of the two, because Joe said pretty much what he meant, and Moll did not. "You don't love us, and of course you can't expect that we can be very fond of you after—after—well, we know you for only such a little while. Do please let us go," urged the child in pleading tones; and now the big tears rolled down his cheeks and splashed in heavy drops, like a summer shower, over the breast of his shabby velvet blouse, while Joan sat and stared from Moll to Joe in wide-eyed silent terror.
"Not likely!" replied Mr. Harris, with an ugly laugh. "You're goin' to begin yer eddication, my son, an' little missy here too. So now shut up, an' let's have no more o' yer blubb'rin'. Ye're goin' to do as I bid ye, or if ye don't I'll manage to learn ye, I'm thinkin'. Eh?" he cried, playfully pinching Joan's small pink ear until she screamed with pain, then glancing from face to face of the party gathered around the fagot fire, fingering idly at the same time the heavy whip in his belt with which he kept Bruno to his tasks. "An' min', if ye try to slope—to run away—well, it'll be all the worse for ye an' for anybody as helps ye," he added savagely, with a scowl in the direction of the dwarf, who sat a little apart, his head leaning upon his hands, his barely-tasted breakfast on the ground beside him.
Joe then lighted his pipe, took a gun and some rabbit-snares from the caravan, and shouting to Tonio to look sharp, he sauntered off in the direction of the fir plantation, with the black boy following dutifully at his heels.
Moll shortly after retired within the caravan, where they could hear her singing snatches of a rollicking street song as if for her own diversion; then—with only the dwarf, the bear, and the monkey to witness their distress—Darby and Joan threw themselves on the grass, where, wrapped in each other's arms, they gave free vent to their disappointment and dismay.
Bruno rolled on the ground, grunted, sat up and blinked at the children out of his funny little slits of eyes, but he said nothing. Puck skipped hither and thither, chattering and jabbering as if begging them to forget their grief and crack some nuts for him instead. The dwarf sat motionless, his head still sunk upon his hands, as if he had forgotten their very presence, yet all the time he was watching them through his fingers. And as soon as their sobs had subsided into long-drawn, gasping sighs, such as the west wind makes in a wide chimney, he left his place, and sitting down between them, put a long arm around the shoulders of each, and drew them close beside him.
He was only a dwarf, but in his heart there were pity and love for all creatures helpless and weaker than himself. And because of this he was like God—he, Bambo the object: mean, lowly, poor, so far as money went, yet rich in the priceless power of loving, which is beyond the riches of gold or lands; for is not love of God? Is not God Himself the beginning, centre, end—nay, notend, because it endureth for ever—of all real, true love? And in their desolation Darby and Joan turned to him with a feeling of confidence and hope.
"Now, I want to hear everything," he said coaxingly; "then perhaps I shall be able to help you. You must be quick, for Joe and Tonio won't stay long away. There's no rabbits or birds over there, I'm sure," he continued, nodding his great head in the direction of the plantation, "and at any moment Moll may come and interrupt us."
Then Darby told their odd new friend everything, as he had desired the child to do—who they were, where they lived, why they had left their home, whither they were bound, and what had befallen them upon the journey.
"Dear, dear!" exclaimed Bambo when the recital was ended, and Darby paused to draw a long breath. "Firgrove! Turner of Firgrove! Old Squire Turner folks about Firdale used to call him. Why, my grandfather, Moses Green, was gardener there once upon a time."
"And he's there yet!" declared Darby, looking highly delighted at the discovery. "Green my aunts call him; an old, old man with white hair and a bended back—'all 'count o' the rheumatiz,' he says."
"Ay, ay! so grandad's still alive. Deary me! deary me! Although he always had a sort of spite at me for being as I am," added the dwarf to himself.
"Had you never no muver?" demanded Joan curiously; "or does funny-lookin' peoples like you just grow the way Topsy did? Topsy never had no muver. That was 'cause she was black, I s'pose; and Tonio won't have none either?"
"Yes, I had a mother once, missy—a good and loving mother, and a kind grandmother too. But they are both gone this many a year ago, and—except grandad, who doesn't count—I have neither kith nor kin in the world."
Bambo sighed deeply, overcome by sad memories. A tear trickled slowly down his hollow, weather-beaten cheek, and Joan put up a smudgy, gentle, little hand to wipe it away.
"Don't be sorry, please, dear dwarf. Joan loves you; you's so kind to Joan," she murmured.
"Couldn'twebe your kith and kin?" asked Darby anxiously. "I expect by 'kith and kin' you just mean friends. We'll be your friends if you'd like us to. We're both very fond of you already.—Aren't we, Joan?"
"Yes, werry," Joan assented warmly, continuing to caress the dwarf's haggard face with her soft, chubby fingers.
"Bless your dear, loving little hearts!" he ejaculated fervently, looking from one to the other of the earnest faces raised so trustfully to his. "Them's the sweetest words that anybody has spoken to poor Bambo this many's the day—since my mother died.Shealways had gentle words and sweet looks in plenty for her misshapen boy; and granny too, bless her! But after they went and left me the world seemed all cold and cruel, with nothing better for the likes of me than cuffs and kicks. It was always, 'Get out of the way, you object!' 'Oh, poor wretch! how horrid-looking he is!' or else jeers, gibes, and laughter. And since I became a man,thiskind of a man, I mean," he explained, glancing from Joan to his stunted limbs, huge feet, and claw-like hands, "it has been harder still—harsh words and heavy blows if I did not bring in money enough at shows and fairs. Now, I think the Lord Jesus has seen my loneliness, taken pity upon me, and sent two of His own to cheer me, and brighten a bit of the wilderness for a weary pilgrim. And we'll see if the dwarf can't do something to show his gratitude," said Bambo resolutely, yet speaking softly as if to himself. "Firgrove! And this is Barchester, you may say—only about three miles from it as the crow flies—and Barchester's thirty odd miles from Firdale. It's not so far after all, and yet it would be a goodish bit to tramp," he added thoughtfully.
"But do you think we must go home?" queried Darby anxiously. "You see, when Mr. Joe and Mrs. Moll overtook us we were on our way, as I told you, to the Happy Land—we were quite close to it, in fact. Would it be right to turn back now?" the little lad asked, fixing his clear gray eyes seriously on the face of the dwarf. "Wouldn't we be like somebody—I forget who—that put his hand to the plough and looked back? Didn't Jesus say that it's wrong of any one to do that?"
"Ay, sonny, our blessed Lord does say that 'no man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God;' and, of course, we oughtn't to do it. But we must first make sure that we've put our hands upon the right plough, that it's pointed in the proper direction in the very field the great Husbandman wants us to turn over. Then we can forge right ahead, cutting the furrow clean and straight, no matter how stony the soil, or how stiff we find the ground."
"IthinkI understand what you mean," said Darby slowly. "You are trying to tell me as nicely as you can that we haven't got our plough pointed in the right direction. Is that it, Mr. Bambo?"
"That's it, deary, and the sooner you get it turned about the better," replied the dwarf briskly. "Your field's waiting for you at Firgrove, so back there you and missy must go as soon as ever you can give Joe and Moll the slip. My, won't the ladies be in a fine way! By this time, I expect, they'll have scoured the country, and be getting the canal dragged in search of you both."
"Isn't we goin' to the Happy Land at all, then?" asked Joan, in a tone of glad relief.
She had been listening to the talk between Bambo and her brother in somewhat of a puzzle as to their meaning. She had, however, gathered the gist of their remarks, and is that not about all that is worth gathering of most conversations?
"Wait a little," whispered Darby, gently prodding her behind the dwarf's back. "Don't be in such a hurry. We're coming to that."
"'Cause if we isn't," continued Joan the irrepressible, "I's werry, werry glad. I doesn't know nuffin' 'bout the Happy Land—nuffin' much, anyway, 'cept what nurse's hymn says—but I knows Firgrove, and I love Auntie Alice, and the pussies, and baby when he's not cryin'. They's quite 'nuff for me—just now at least," she added as an after-thought. "And I wants to go back to Miss Carolina and the rest of my dear, sweet dollies. Darby wouldn't let me bring none of them wif me. Now I's lonesome for them," she whimpered, "and I won't go to no Happy Land wifout my fings. There!" declared the mutinous little maid, with an emphatic waggle of her sunny head, such as she had seen Perry finish up with when argument waxed warm between her and Molly the cook.
And just as Captain Dene had smiled sympathetically over a similar speech of his small daughter's, so did the dwarf bend an understanding gaze upon the winsome, wilful face, with its dewy eyes and quivering lips. At the same time there came back to his memory a verse of a hymn or poem, Bambo did not know which, that his mother had been very fond of and often repeated:—
"Fair Anwoth by the Solway,To me thou still art dear;E'en from the verge of heavenI drop for thee a tear.Oh, if one soul from AnwothMeet me at God's right hand,My heaven will be two heavensIn Immanuel's land."
"Fair Anwoth by the Solway,To me thou still art dear;E'en from the verge of heavenI drop for thee a tear.Oh, if one soul from AnwothMeet me at God's right hand,My heaven will be two heavensIn Immanuel's land."
"Should we try to go to the Happy Land some other time, do you think, Mr. Bambo?" asked Darby anxiously, half frightened and wholly distressed by the feeling of satisfaction which filled him at the prospect of going back to the security of Firgrove. It seemed to him as if a return implied an easy entrance at the wide gate upon the broad and pleasant way, and turning their backs on the strait and narrow path, which had proved so tortuous and stony for their tender, stumbling feet.
For an instant the dwarf hesitated, hardly knowing how to answer the boy's question. Then he spoke.
"If I was you, I wouldn't set out again in search of the Happy Land; because them that turns their backs upon the duties which lie close to their hand, and their faces away from the place where God has put them, never find a happy land, neither in this life nor in the next," said the little man solemnly. "It mostly comes to folks, often when they little expect; leastways it did to me," he added softly.
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean," said Darby, with a puzzled pucker between his brows. "How could the Happy Land come to one? Can you tell me that, please?"
"Well, if you're looking for a country on this side of time such as the hymn describes, and I think that's the notion that's taken hold of your wise wee head," said the dwarf, laying a gentle hand on the lad's dark hair, "you'll never find it; for there's no such place as that in this world—where the sun's always shining, and night never falls; where folks are never tempted or wicked; where there's no need to struggle, and nobody makes mistakes; where there's neither sickness nor sorrow, parting nor death—nothing but music and pleasure and happiness all the year round. Only in heaven are all these joys to be found—the heaven that awaits us after our work is done, when the blessed Lord Himself sends His messenger to bring us home."
"Then, dear dwarf, isn't there any Happy Land at all," asked Joan, fixing upon her friend a pair of wondering, wide blue eyes—"no nice place where me and Darby can always be quite happy and good, wifout naughtiness or puttin' to bed same as at Firgrove; where I could keep my dollies and the pussies wif me, and where there 'ud be no Aunt Catharine?" she added emphatically. "Tell me, please, isn't there no Happy Land like that anywhere, wifout bein' deaded and put in a big box in the ground, the way they did wif muver?"
"Ay, missy, there's a Happy Land sure enough for us all; but each of us must seek it within, and create it around us for ourselves," said the dwarf dreamily. "And I think that you surely make yours about you wherever you are," he added, as he softly smoothed the little one's tangled yellow curls.
"Please 'splain it to me again, Mr. Bambo," begged Darby, in his sweet, grave tones; "I'm afraid I don't quite understand your meaning yet. I'm only seven years old, you see, and not very wise for my age, Aunt Catharine says."
"And I'm not wise at all," laughed Bambo, shaking his great head in a droll way, which vastly amused Miss Joan, "although I'm more than three times your age. I fear I'm not good at explaining, either, for I'm just a dull, unlearned fellow. I never had no schooling, not since I wore petticoats!"—here Joan laughed merrily—"and have no knowledge except what the Master has taught me out under the sky and the stars, from the hedgerows, the beasts, the birds, the trees, the flowers. But I'll do my best to tell you what I mean, and the great Teacher Himself will make the rest clear to you if you are willing to learn of Him.
"I believe that the only truly Happy Land is just wherever the Lord Jesus is, and He dwells with those who love and desire Him above all others, no matter what their station or where their habitation may be—whether in a palace or a caravan; beyond yonder storm-blown hill, or safe in the snug shelter of Firgrove. Then if He is to walk always beside us, we must conduct ourselves as befits them that keep good company. We must shirk no duty, no matter how disagreeable; leave never a task unlearned, be it ever so hard; and travelling along hand in hand with a Friend who is always faithful, a Counsellor who is ever wise, a Guide who never stumbles, earth will become for us a real Happy Land, and life a foretaste of the bliss of that kingdom prepared for the Lord's own subjects 'from the foundation of the world.'
"This is what I believe, sonny, and I think it is what the Lord Jesus wanted the multitudes to learn and remember when He said in His sermon on the mount, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.'"
"Oh, thank you, thank you, dear Mr. Bambo; I know now 'zactly what you mean. How clever you are!" exclaimed Darby, in a tone of mingled respect and admiration, looking at his new teacher with glowing eyes, while his cheeks were flushed from the excess of his delight. "And I am so glad we needn't go away any more to look for the Happy Land from father, when he comes back, and Eric, and Auntie Alice, and—and—everything," he added, hurriedly lumping Aunt Catharine along with the odds and ends that were too numerous to mention separately, "but just stay at home, and be good and brave and true and loving to everybody. How easy it sounds! I feel as if I never could be disobedient or naughty any more," he added, with a look of such angelic innocence and high resolve that the dwarf had not the heart to mar his lofty mood by so much as a hint of danger or a word of warning. He only repeated softly, almost below his breath, a verse from the battered old Book in his pocket, that was at times his sole companion, and comfort always:—
"Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven."
"Little robin redbreast sat upon a tree,Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;Down came pussy-cat, and away robin ran;Says little robin redbreast, 'Catch me if you can.'"Little robin redbreast flew upon a wall,Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall.Little robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say?Pussy-cat said 'Mew,' and robin flew away."
"Little robin redbreast sat upon a tree,Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;Down came pussy-cat, and away robin ran;Says little robin redbreast, 'Catch me if you can.'
"Little robin redbreast flew upon a wall,Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall.Little robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say?Pussy-cat said 'Mew,' and robin flew away."
Meanwhile time was passing: morning had slipped on to afternoon. Moll would not stay inside the caravan all day, and Joe might be back at any moment.
"And now that you know where your Happy Land actually lies, don't you think we'd better make tracks for it as soon as we can?" said Bambo at length, speaking out of the silence that had fallen over the group. For both Darby and Bambo had been thinking, and Joan was asleep, with her head resting against the dwarf's shoulder.
"Why do you say 'we'? Are you going to come with us?" asked Darby, in great delight. "Oh, how kind you are! But won't you be very tired walking all that long way to Firgrove and back again, and your cough so troublesome?" he inquired with concern.
"I won't want to come back again, sonny. I've been intending to leave Joe and Moll for a good while past. I always put off and put off. Having no friends to go to, and there being nothing else I could fall back upon for a living, I suppose I was timid about making a change. Now I can see God's hand in it. He kept me on with the Harrises because He had something He wants poor Bambo to do before he dies. If only I can hold out until I deliver you and little missy safe into the care of your friends, that's all I'll ask. My work will then be done; I'll be ready for the call whenever the messenger comes."
"How? what do you mean?" asked Darby, in an eager whisper, for he was frightened—awed, rather—he knew not why, by the look on the dwarf's face.
"Because, deary, Bambo's soon going home—home to the dear Lord Jesus, whose love has made the world a happy land for the poor, despised, misshapen dwarf since first I sought and found Him waiting and willing to claim and receive me—me—even me, for His own."
The ready tears coursed quickly down Darby's cheeks, but he remained silent. He did not know rightly what he ought to say, and, guided by the inimitable tact, the heaven-born wisdom of childhood, said simply nothing.
"Whish! here's Moll," spoke Bambo, in a warning undertone. "Don't let on to her what we've been talking about. Better not say anything to missy, either; but the very first chance we get we'll give them the slip—see if we won't! Don't fret, sonny," he added, giving Darby's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just you leave things to me, and never fear, for God will certainly set us free."
Almost directly Joe and Tonio returned. Joe was ravenously hungry and extremely cross because they had come back empty-handed, and Joe did not like that. He had an odd and occasionally inconvenient knack of picking up something—no matter what—wherever he went. This talent of his was well known among his friends, and had gained for him the nickname before mentioned of Thieving Joe, a title of which he was actually proud, until—But better not anticipate.
To-day, however, Joe had picked up nothing. Not a bird had they seen worth the waste of powder and shot; not a rabbit had even so much as sniffed in the direction of the snares. Joe was disappointed and out of temper in consequence, and flinging down his gun, and administering a cuff to the long-suffering Tonio, he roared for Bambo to bring him his dinner, in a voice which awoke Joan bolt upright from her sleep, and set Darby to shake and shiver down to the very soles of his shoes.
When the savoury meal which the dwarf had so carefully prepared was disposed of, Mr. Harris lay down beside the fire to rest after the fatigues of the morning. There he slept until twilight was stealing over the common, and within the belt of fir trees darkness and gloom peopled the spaces with shadows, and filled the air with that silence which speaks in no known language, yet with many voices. And again, as on the previous night, soon the encampment was in the bustle of removal. Bruno and Puck were shoved into their cages, the horses harnessed and yoked to the caravan, Darby and Joan carefully hidden away inside under Moll's guardianship, and the party were on the move once more.
They were not going far, only to the outskirts of Barchester, the big, busy, noisy town whose tall chimneys rose through the smoke-laden atmosphere which hung so dark and heavy above their belching mouths. Barchester was about eight miles off going by the less direct road along which they would travel in order to elude pursuit. There they would halt for the night, awaiting the proprietor's orders for the morrow.
The black boy capered alongside the caravan, aiming stones at the sparrows hunched up on the leafless branches of the hedges, or chasing the shy young rabbits that scuttered frightened to their burrows in the mossy bank by the roadside, as the piebalds plodded sedately on their monotonous way. The bear snarled behind his iron bars, the children crouched silently in a corner of the caravan, while Joe and Moll smoked and lounged, and discussed their plans concerning their captives and the company generally during the approaching winter. Bambo occupied his accustomed perch above the horses; and through the badly-fitted squares of glass in front, which by no stretch of politeness could truthfully be styled windows, the hum of their voices and the meaning of their words reached distinctly and sharply his ears and brain.
"I say, Moll, are you mindin' that our term o' the van's about up?" asked Joe, after some minor matters had been talked over. "We'll give the bloomin' old shay back at the end o' the time, an' I don't think as you an' me'll ever ride in it again, my woman! We ought to be able to do better for ourselves than travel the country like this afore another summer comes roun'."
"I'm sure I hope so, for I'm gettin' kind o' tired o' bein' cooped up in a box like a rabbit in a trap," answered Moll sulkily.
"We'll go to lodgin's for the winter," Joe went on, taking no notice of her surly mood; "jest a couple o' rooms, wi' a corner in an outhouse where we can keep the bear. Bambo an' Bruno, wi' the little un on his back fixed up in tinsel an' spangles, an' her yeller curls flyin', ought to bring home a tidy penny every night—a heap o' coppers, I tell you! Tonio will take to the hurdy-gurdy again; him an' Puck should win money too. An' as for you," he continued, "you can make yer livin' any day by yer black eyes an' slippery tongue. My, Moll, you are a cute un, an' no mistake!"
"Come, give over yer palaver, for I'm not wantin' it," said Moll roughly, yet not ill pleased at her husband's judicious tribute to her smartness and her charms. "It's all very fine—you have everythin' nicely fixed up accordin' to yer own notion," she continued mockingly; "but I'd like to know whereyoucome in? What areyougoin' to do?" she demanded angrily. "Nothin', I expect. Play the fine gentleman an' live upon what the rest o' us earns. Not if I knows it, Joe Harris," said Moll harshly, with a vicious snap of her strong white teeth.
"Now, now, you mustn't turn rusty, Mrs. Harris, my dear; it don't suit yer style o' beauty. I'm not goin' to be either idle or extravagant. I'm goin' to work hard an' train them kids to work for us. There's money in them, I tell you, especially the boy, an' see if Joe Harris can't draw it out o' him! He'll be a bit stubborn at first, maybe, but we'll soon cure him o' that," added the man savagely. "An' min' you promised to help me, Moll! You're surely not forgettin' the bargain we made? You were to stan' by me wi' the brats, an' I was to give you the silk gownd an' the glitters—eh, my lass?"
"I'm not sure if I want yer silk gownd nor yer glitters, Joe Harris," answered his wife moodily. "It ud be dirty money that ud buy them. I don't like this business, I tell you agin, as I telled you afore, an' there'll no good come o't. Let the little uns go, Joe," she urged in pleading tones. "For all that you purtend the other way, you know well that there's folks breakin' their hearts about them somewhere. Sen' the dwarf back wi' them to Firdale; they'll know their own way from there. An' as for Bambo—why, if he never turns up agin he'll be no loss. He's dyin'; you can see that wi' half an eye. His cough's 'nuff to give a body the shivers."
"Are you mad, woman, that you bid me throw away the best chance ever I had? An' the dwarf too! Why, do you want to ruin us all at one sweep?" growled Joe furiously.
"I don't want to ruin you, an' well you knows it," said Moll soothingly; "but I'm kin' o' tired o' livin' from day to day in dread o' you bein' followed an' took up an' put in prison. For it'll come to that, or worse, Joe, mark my words!" she added oracularly. "'The fox runs long, but he's caught at last,'" she quoted solemnly, "an' I never felt so downright sure o't afore. I think it's the look o' them children's eyes, the little lass in partik'ler," added the woman, remembering with a queer thrill at her heart Joan's kneeling baby form, the folded hands, the lisping prayer, the unexpected kiss. "She makes me wish I was a better woman," said Moll in a broken voice, softly sobbing the while.
Joe made no reply whatever. Possibly he was so vastly astonished at his wife's strange mood that his usual ready flow of forcible argument for once had failed him.
"Won't you let them go, Joe? do ee now," Moll resumed, in her most persuasive tones. "An' when you return the van, send Tonio off on his own hook too; the lad eats more'n he earns. An' sell Bruno; he's a vicious brute—nothin' but an encumbrance. You couldn't do much wi' him anyhow, once Bambo's out o' the road. The beast has a grudge agin you, for the way you whip him, I expect. He'll do you an injury one o' these days if you don't have a care! Then when we've only ourselves to think o', you an' me'll make a nice, comfortable livin' easy—you an' me, an' Puck an' the organ, wi' no fear o' the beaks or the jyle, or—or—anythin'. My! it makes me young agin thinkin' o' the fine times we'd have."
"Shut up, will you?" roared Mr. Harris, with a savage stamp of his huge foot, which set Bruno to growl ominously, and all the pots and pans slung around the van to jingle in unison.
After a moment Moll spoke.
"You bid me shut up," she said, with an angry jangle in her naturally soft, full tones. "All right, I will, Joe Harris; but when the time comes—as come it shall—that you're sorry you didn't listen to me, don't look to Moll for pity. There, them's my last words."
Then a sullen silence fell upon the pair; but by the time the caravan had reached its destination they were chatting as harmoniously as if no difference of opinion had ever arisen to disturb their peace.
The horses were again unyoked, the bear dragged from its lair, and arrangements put in train for the night. After a scanty supper of scraps and fragments—for by this time the store in the larder was at low ebb—having charged Bambo and Tonio with threats and strong words to look well after the children on peril of their lives, and on no account to allow them out of the van, Joe and Moll dressed themselves in their best, and set off to look up some old friends and spend a pleasant evening in the town.
No sooner were they safely out of the way than Tonio slyly disappeared—following, doubtless, the example set him by his master and mistress—possessing no more sense of responsibility to restrain his movements than a kitten or a butterfly. Thus the dwarf found himself, greatly to his satisfaction and delight, left in sole charge of the captives and the encampment.
The first faint light of the misty October morning was spreading up slowly from the east, the delicate hoar frost of autumn was lying like a filmy veil of silvery gossamer over the furze bushes and rough grass around the camping-place, before the pair of pleasure-seekers returned. By that time, however, Tonio was sleeping soundly beside the piebalds in shelter of a tumble-down wall, with the monkey curled closely in against his dusky breast. Joe and Moll were stupid, tired, and decidedly out of sorts, as people are wont to be after a surfeit of enjoyment and a scant supply of sleep. Bruno growled as usual at being disturbed, and clanked his chain as if in remonstrance; from behind the wall the uneasy fidgeting of the hungry horses could be plainly heard; while Tonio's noisy snoring rose and fell upon the still, damp air with rhythmical regularity. But over the old yellow caravan a curious and suspicious silence reigned; not a sound was to be heard within its wooden walls, not a glimmer of light came through its curtained panes.
Joe muttered an ugly word, roughly threw open the door, struck a match, lighted the lamp and peered about him. Bambo's usual shakedown was deserted; the pallet where the children should have been was unoccupied. The place was empty; the prisoners had escaped—under the guidance of the dwarf undoubtedly, many hours before, probably.
Behind her husband's back Moll executed a sort of breakdown dance, so great was her satisfaction at the unexpected way in which her wishes had been carried out. But the disappointment and wrath of Joe over this sudden overthrow of his schemes were deep and furious.