The Weans at Rowallan Part 4

Patsy looked at her.

"Let her go if she wants to," he said, "I'm goin' to sleep." He went back into the dressing-room. Jane looked after him, and then began to laugh.

"I declare to my goodness I'm an ould divil myself," she said, "makin'

ye all miserable." She got up, and kissed them all.

"An I'll make b.l.o.o.d.y Mary a bustle in the mornin'," she said as she got into bed.

"I think I'd rather have a ruff," said Honeybird.

Next Sunday Mr Rannigan was at church. When he gave out his text Jane looked at him. "Brethren, it is my duty to preach the simple gospel,"

he began, and Jane opened the Bible at Nebuchadnezzar.

CHAPTER IV

A DAY OF GROWTH

Fly sat on the wall in the wood at the back of the garden simmering with excitement. Two wonderful things had happened to her, each of which by itself would have been enough to make her happy for a week.

First, she had got a letter in the morning addressed to herself. She was so pleased that she did not think of opening it till Jane took it from her. The inside, however, was still more delightful. Somebody called Janette Black said she had a little present for Fly, and was bringing it to Rowallan that afternoon. Lull said Miss Black was Fly's G.o.dmother. She used to live at Rose Cottage years ago, but for a long time she had been away in Dublin. Fly was too much excited to eat her breakfast. The others as they watched her dancing round the room could not help being a little bit envious at her good fortune. They had never heard of anybody before, except Cinderella, who had had a visit from a G.o.dmother. Their G.o.dmothers were all dead, or away in England.

Fly in her happiness had a pang of regret that she could not share this delightful relative with the others. She said she would share the gift. She had thought that morning would never pa.s.s. Lull was getting the drawing-room ready for the visitor, and once or twice she had warned Fly that she might be disappointed.

"I wouldn't marvel if she niver come near the place at all," she said.

"She's a bird-witted ould lady, an' niver in the wan way a' thinkin'

two minutes thegether." But Fly could not have been calm if she had tried. She had spent her time going backwards and forwards to look at the kitchen clock. Now the time had come, dinner was over, Fly had her clean pinafore on, the G.o.dmother was, perhaps, already in the house, but Fly was so busy thinking of something else that she had almost forgotten her. The second wonderful thing had happened. There were days, Fly told herself, when things took jumps--when, instead of growing up at the usual pace, so slow you could not feel it, something happened that made you older and richer and cleverer all in a minute.

To-day life had taken two jumps. As she was sitting there quietly on the wall, thinking only of her G.o.dmother, a big yellow cat had come out of the wood. Everybody at Rowallan hated cats--they were deadly enemies, poachers, and destroyers. Andy had been in trouble for the past week over the wickedness of a cat who, night after night, had been at the rabbits in his traps. Rabbits were a source of income to Rowallan, and it was a serious matter when six rabbits were destroyed in one night. Fly had been in the kitchen that morning when Andy came in to tell Lull his trouble.

"I niver seen the cat that could get the better av me afore," he said dejectedly. "I'm thinkin' I'm gettin' too ould for this game." Fly remembered this as she watched the cat coming towards her through the wood. If only Andy were there now with his gun. It was a terrible pity that such a chance should be lost. She sat quite still, waiting to see what the cat would do. It never seemed to notice her, but came boldly on, with no sense of shame, straight towards her, till it was beneath her feet. The wall was high, and the cat had jumped before Fly realised that it meant to use her legs as a ladder to the top.

Indignation on Andy's account now gave place to wild rage at personal injury. The cat's claws were in her leg. She kicked it off, then, quick as thought, seized a big flat stone off the top of the wall, and dropped it on the cat's neck. The yellow head bowed, and without a sound the body rolled over on the gra.s.s. Fly saw that she had killed it. Her heart jumped for joy. She could hardly believe she had really done this wonderful thing. Andy's enemy lay dead at her feet, struck down by her unerring aim. What would the others say? What would Andy say? How they would all praise her! She felt that G.o.d had helped her.

It must be He who had brought the cat within her reach and given her power to kill it with one blow of a stone. Honeybird's voice called from the garden. Fly gave a little gasp--her heart was beating so quickly with excitement. To find a G.o.dmother and to kill a cat in one day!--had anybody else ever had such happiness? She got down from the wall, and took the dead cat in her arms. She must go to the G.o.dmother now, and wait till she had gone before she could tell the others.

There was n.o.body at home to tell except Honeybird, for Jane had gone with Andy on the car to bring Mick and Patsy home from school. She would hide the cat in the stables, she thought, and when the others came home she would produce it dramatically, and see what they would do. On the way through the garden she met Honeybird coming to find her.

"She's come," said Honeybird, "in a wee donkey carriage an' a furry cloak; but I'm feared she's got nuthin' with her, 'cause I walked all round her to see."

Fly held up the cat. "I've just kilt it with wan blow av a stone," she said.

"Well done you," said Honeybird joyfully. "Bad auld divil," addressing the dead cat, "what for did ye eat the neck out a' Andy's rabbits?"

Then her tone changed. "Give him to me, Fly, to play feeneral with.

Sure, you've got a G.o.dmother, an' I've got nuthin' at all." Fly had not the heart to refuse. She gave Honeybird the dead cat, but explained that she must be allowed to dig it up again to show it to Andy. Then she ran quickly towards the house. A smell of pancakes came from the kitchen. Lull was getting tea ready for the visitor.

Fly felt that life was richer than she had ever known it to be. At the drawing-room door she paused to mutter a little prayer of thanksgiving.

She hardly knew what she had been expecting, but she was a little bit disappointed when she opened the door and went in. Her G.o.dmother was sitting on a sofa. She was a little woman, dressed in dull black; an old-fas.h.i.+oned fur-lined cloak fell from her shoulders; a lace veil, turned over her bonnet, hung down like a curtain behind. She wore gloves several sizes too big for her, and the ends of the fingers were twisted into spikes. But her voice pleased Fly's ear. She had been to see Mrs Darragh, she said, but had only stayed a minute. In spite of her disappointment there was something about the little lady that attracted Fly's fancy. Her eyes were just the colour of the sea on a clear, sunny day. She talked a good deal, holding Fly's hand and patting it all the time. Fly did not understand much of what she said--she mentioned so many people Fly had never heard of before.

"You know you are my only G.o.d-child," she said; "when I die you shall have all my money if you are a good girl." Fly thought this was very kind, but she begged her G.o.dmother not to think of dying for years yet.

The little lady smiled. Then she began to talk again about people Fly did not know, nodding and smiling as though it were all very funny.

Fly wondered when she would come to the gift.

"There now, I've talked enough," she said at last. "Tell me all about yourself and the other dear children now."

Fly told her everything she could remember. Miss Black said "Yes, yes," "How delightful," "How pleasant," but she did not seem to be listening; her eyes were looking all round the room, and once she said "How pleasant" when Fly was telling her about the time Patsy hurt his foot. Fly was in the middle of the tale of Andy's trouble that morning when Miss Black interrupted her.

"You must come and see me, my dear, and bring the others with you, and you shall make the acquaintance of my darling Phoebus."

Here was another person Fly had never heard of. She wondered who he could be.

"Naughty darling Phoebus," Miss Black went on. "Oh, he has been so naughty since we left Dublin. Out for hours by himself, frightening me into fits. But he doesn't care how anxious I am."

He must be her son, Fly thought; rather a horrid little boy to frighten his mother like that. She asked Miss Black if he were her only child.

Miss Black laughed. "He is, indeed, my darling only one; you must come and see him. You will be sure to love him. He is not very fond of children, but I shall tell him he must love you and not scratch."

Fly thought she would not love him at all, but she was too polite to say so. She wished Miss Black would say something about her present.

But Miss Black went on talking about Phoebus. She called him her golden boy, her heart's delight and only treasure. Fly was rather bewildered by this talk. It seemed to her that Phoebus must be a very nasty little boy: he ate nothing but kidney and fish, his mother said, and never a bite of bread with it.

Lull brought in tea, and when Miss Black had finished her tea she became silent. Fly did not like to speak. She thought her G.o.dmother must be thinking of something important. She waited a little while, then, as Miss Black continued silent, she cautiously introduced the subject of G.o.dmothers. It might, perhaps, remind the little lady of what her letter had promised. She told Miss Black about the other children's G.o.dmothers, and how lucky the others thought she was to have a G.o.dmother alive and in Ireland. Miss Black patted her hand absently, and gazed round the room.

"I know there is something I wanted to remember," she said at last.

Fly waited eagerly. She knew what it was, though, of course, she could not say so. "I have it," said Miss Black. "I wanted to ask for a rabbit for Phoebus. He has no appet.i.te, these days. This morning he touched nothing but his saucerful of cream. Do you think you could get me a rabbit, my dear? Phoebus adores rabbit."

"To be sure I can get ye wan," said Fly, swallowing her disappointment.

"I'll get ye wan to-morra from Andy."

Miss Black got up to go. "That is kind of you," she said; "and, now that I remember, I had a little gift for you, but I forgot to bring it.

Come to-morrow, and you shall have it. And don't forget the rabbit for Phoebus."

"I'll hould ye I'll not forgit," said Fly. "We've been havin' bad luck this wee while back with the rabbits. Some ould cat's been spoilin'

them on us. But just a minute before you came I kilt the ould baste."

Fly looked for applause, but her G.o.dmother's attention had wandered again.

"How very pleasant," she said. Then suddenly she looked at Fly. "What did you say, dear child?"

"I said I kilt an ould thief of a cat," said Fly proudly.

The G.o.dmother grasped her by the arm. "Killed a----" Her voice was almost a scream. "Merciful heavens! what do you mean?"

Fly was frightened. Her G.o.dmother seemed to have changed into another person. She looked at Fly with burning eyes.

"Wicked, wicked, cruel child!"

"I couldn't help it," Fly stammered. "I done it by accident." Had she all unconsciously done some awful thing? Surely everybody killed cats.

They were like rats--a plague to be exterminated.

"What was it like?" demanded her G.o.dmother.

"The nastiest-lukin' baste I iver set eyes on," said Fly earnestly.

"If it had been Phoebus I think I should have killed you," said Miss Black.