The Settlers at Home Part 19

"What is the matter, dear? Are you afraid of the storm? I never knew you afraid of thunder and lightning; but perhaps you may be now, because you are ill."

"No," sobbed Mildred.

"I cannot help being glad of this storm," continued Oliver, "though it is disagreeable, at the time, to people who have no house to go to. I hope it will clear the air, and freshen it; and that is the very thing we want, to make you better."

"It is not that, Oliver. I don't mind the storm at all."

"Then what makes you cry so, dear? Is it about Geordie?"

"Yes. Something about him that I don't think you know; something that I shall never bear to think of. It will make me miserable as long as I live. Do you know, I was tired of nursing him, and hearing him cry; and I gave it up--the only thing I could do for him! I asked Ailwin to take him. And in two days he was dead; and I could never do anything for him any more."

Here a burst of grief stopped her voice. Her brother said, very solemnly,--

"Now, Mildred, listen to me,--to the little I can say--for you know I cannot, in this place, stay and talk with you as we should both like, and as we might have done at home. I think you were almost always very kind to Geordie; and I am sure he loved you very dearly. But I have heard mother say that the worst part of losing dear friends is that we have to blame ourselves, more or less, for our behaviour to them,--even to those we loved the very most. So I will not flatter you, dear: though I don't at all wonder at your being tired of hearing Geordie cry that day. I will not say whether you were right or wrong; but only put you in mind that we may always ask for pardon. Remember, too, that you may meet Geordie again; and perhaps be kinder to him than we ever are to one another here. Now I will go, and come back again soon."

"Stop one minute," implored Mildred. "I dreamed that you all went away from this hill, and left me alone."

As she said this, she looked at her brother, with such a painful wistfulness, that he saw that she had had a fever-dream, and was not yet quite clear from its remains. He laughed, as at something ridiculous; which Mildred seemed to like: and then he reminded her more gravely, that they could not get away from this place if they would. If an opportunity should occur, he a.s.sured her he would not leave hold of her hand. Nothing should make him step into a boat without her. Poor Mildred had fancied, bewildered as she was this morning, that if Oliver knew of what she had done about George, he would think himself justified in leaving her to perish on the hill; and yet she could not help telling him. Her mind was relieved, for the present, and she let him go.

He found Roger where he first looked for him,--near the mummy. The poor lad was too ill to stand; but he lay on the slimy bank, poking and grubbing, with a stick and with his fingers, as deep in the soft soil as he could penetrate. Oliver saw that he had found some more curiosities;--bunches of nuts,--nuts which were ripening on the tree many hundreds of seasons ago; but which no hand had plucked till now.

Oliver could neither wonder nor admire, at this moment: nor was he vexed (as he might have been at another time) at Roger's crawling hither, in pursuit of gain, to be made more ill by every breath he drew while stooping over the rank mud.

"Don't be afraid, Roger," said Oliver. "I am not going to touch your findings, or meddle with you. I want you to change your clothes,--to put off that finery,--and to let me know where the bag of money is that you took out of the chest."

Roger stared.

"I am going to pack that chest again; and I want to see everything in it, that it may be ready if any boat should come."

"Boat!" exclaimed Roger.

"Yes: a boat may come, you know; and we must not detain it, if such a thing should happen. If you die without restoring that money, Roger, it will be a sin upon your soul: so tell me where it is, and have an easy mind, I advise you. That will be a good thing, if you live an hundred years."

"There is a boat here now! You are going to leave me behind!" cried Roger, scrambling up on his feet, and falling again from weakness, two or three times. "I knew it," he continued; "I dreamt it all last night; and it is going to come true to-day."

"Mildred dreamed the same thing; and it is because you are both ill,"

said Oliver. "Lean upon me--as heavily as you like--and I will go home with you, as slowly as you will, if you will tell me where the money-bag is. You will find no boat there now, whatever there may be by-and-by: but if you will not tell me where the money-bag is, I will shake you off now, and leave you here. It is another person's money: and I must have it."

Roger said he would tell, if Oliver would promise him not to leave him alone on the island. Oliver a.s.sured him that there was no danger whatever of the deliverers of some of the party leaving others to perish. He owned that he was bound to make his sister his first care, and Ailwin his next. As boys, Roger and himself must be satisfied to be thought of last; but he hoped they should neither of them do an ill turn by the other. He asked if Roger had ever received an ill turn from him.

"That is the thing," said Roger, sorrowfully: "and you have had so many from me and mine!"

"I am sure I forgive them all, now you have once said that," cried Oliver. "I forgive and forget them all: and so would father, if he heard you."

"No! Would he? And he said once that he and his would scorn to be like me and mine."

"Did you hear him say that? You used to hear every word we said to one another, I think."

"It was Ailwin that threw that in my teeth."

"Father would not say so now: never after you had had Geordie on your knees and made him fond of you, as you did."

"Do you really think so?"

"I am almost sure of it. But he could not help thinking badly of you if you keep that money."

"I am not going to keep it. Do you go and find it, if you like, for I can't. It is in a hollow elm that stands between two beeches, on the other side of the wood. There is a little cross cut in the bark, on the south side--that will help you to find it. But don't you go till you have got me to the tent."

Oliver helped him home, amidst lightning and splas.h.i.+ng rain, explaining as they went why the tent was down, but thinking it best to say nothing of the boat to one so weak-spirited as Roger was now. He then ran off, and found the money-bag. He wished the weather would clear, that he might look out again: but, meanwhile, he felt that he was not losing time in collecting together all the goods that were on the hill; for the tempest so darkened and filled the air, that he knew he could not have seen a furlong into the distance, if he had been on his perch at this moment. He wore his mother's watch in his pocket, feeling as if it promised that he should meet her again, to put it back into her hands.

"Now, Oliver," said Ailwin, "I am vexed with you that you did not sleep while you might, before this growling, splas.h.i.+ng weather came on, and while there was something of a shelter over your head. If you don't go to sleep the minute this tempest is over, I must see what I must do to you: for you will be having the fever else; and then what is to become of me, among you all, I should like to know? I wish you would creep in now between the mattresses under the tree, and never think of the storm, but go to sleep like a good boy. It is hardly likely that the lightning should strike that particular tree, just while you are under it."

"But if you should chance to find me a cinder, when you thought it time for me to be waking, Ailwin--would not that be as bad as my having the fever?"

"Oliver! How can you talk so? How dare you think of such a shocking thing?"

"You put it into my head, Ailwin. But come--let me tell you a thing I want you to do, if I should be away when it stops raining. Here are Roger's old clothes, safe and dry here between the beds. When it leaves off raining, make him pull off his wet finery, and put on his own dry things; and keep that finery somewhere out of his way, that I may put it back into the chest, where it ought to be lying now. Will you do this, Ailwin?"

"Why, I'll see. If I was quite sure that he had nothing to do with this storm, I might manage him as I could any other boy."

"Anybody may manage him to-day, with a little kindness. He is ill and weak-spirited; and you can touch his heart with a word. If you only remember how George cried after him, you will be gentle with him, I know."

"Well, that's true: and I doubt whether a lord would have spoken with him, if he had been so dangerous as he seems sometimes. Now, as to dinner to-day, Oliver--I really don't like to give Mildred such food as the game on the island now is. I am sure it is downright unwholesome.

Bird and beast, they are all dying off faster than we can kill them."

"The fowls are not all done, I hope. I thought we had some meal-fed fowls left."

"Just two; and that is all: and the truth is, I don't like to part those two poor things, enjoying the meal-picking together; and then, they are the last of our wholesome food."

"Then let us have them while they are wholesome. Boil one to-day, and make the broth as nice as you can for Mildred. We will cook the other to-morrow."

"And what next day?"

"We will see to that when the day comes. Oh dear! When will these clouds have emptied themselves? Surely they cannot pour down at this rate long."

"The thunder and lightning are just over, and that's a comfort," said Ailwin. "You might stand under any tree, now, Oliver; and you go wandering about, as if you were a duck in your heart, and loved the rain."

Ailwin might wonder, for Oliver was indeed very restless. While waiting the moment when he might again cross to the staircase, he could not even stand still under a tree. The secret of his having seen the boat was too heavy a one to be borne when he was no longer busy. He felt that he should tell, if he remained beside his sister and Ailwin; so he wandered off, through the wood, to try how far he could see over the waters to the south, now that the tempest was pa.s.sing away.

Through the trees he saw some one--a tall person, walking on the gra.s.s by the water-side. He ran--he flew. There was a boat lying against the bank, and two or three men walking towards the wood. The foremost was Pastor Dendel. Oliver sprang into his arms, clung round his neck for a moment, and then fainted away.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

NEWS.

Oliver soon recovered. The strong, manly caress of the pastor seemed to revive him, even more than the water the others threw on his face. His first word was "Mother."

"She is safe, my boy: and she will be well when I take you to her. Are you alone here, Oliver?"