Gritli's Children Part 21

Directly after dinner Emma and Fani had started on their expedition.

They had no trouble to-day in finding their way to the willows, and they went as quickly as they could, so that they could have a long afternoon, and yet get back in time for Oscar's Festival.

They found the boat ready for them; oars and pole all in position, and a seat in the middle. The boat was but lightly fastened to the sh.o.r.e, and the children sprang gayly into it. Emma took the oars and pushed off.

She rowed well, and knew what she was about. She handled the boat skilfully, for she had often been out on the lake with her friend when the wind blew and the waves were high.

Fani took his seat in the stern, saying:--

"When you want my help, just say so, Emma. But I don't know anything at all about rowing."

"I shan't need you," answered Emma, bravely, as she pulled away.

Two things, however, she had not counted on. The boat was much heavier than that which she had used on the lake, and the swift current of the river was a very different thing to row against, from the quiet waters of a lake. Emma worked st.u.r.dily against the stream. She wanted to go out far enough to be in full sight of the ruined castle. She had arranged in her mind a plan for keeping the boat in place while Fani sketched. But she soon began to find herself growing very tired, while yet she made little head-way.

"Take the pole, Fani," she said, "and stick it firmly against the bottom and push." Fani did so, and the boat made an advance of several feet. "Again, again, Fani." Fani did his best.

"Now I'll row a bit farther into the middle of the river, then hold fast so that we shall not be carried down; here we are! there is the ruin, Fani! Now, Fani, stick the pole down, and I'll hold it and you can begin to sketch."

Fani stuck his pole manfully into the bottom of the river, but the rus.h.i.+ng current seized it and threw it up again as if it had been a reed.

"Oh! oh!" he cried, "we shall be carried away!"

"You take one of the oars and we'll row back to the sh.o.r.e," said Emma, anxiously. "Come, be quick!"

But the stream seized the oar before Fani could take it from her, and it was swept away.

"What shall we do? There is no one to help us," cried Emma, beside herself. "Suppose the boat should upset!"

Faster and faster they were whirled along, the boat tossing like a nut-sh.e.l.l upon the waves.

The children sat still, although frightened almost to death.

"Fani, we are lost! who can help us?" screamed Emma. "Let us say our prayers. I have forgotten to say them ever since I came to Rosemount. I promised mamma not to forget; but I did. Do you think G.o.d will hear me now? Fani, you pray; you do it every day, I know."

"No; I thought Elsli would do it for me and for herself," said the boy hoa.r.s.ely.

"That is no good; you must do it for yourself or G.o.d will not listen. He will only say, 'I do not know him,' when Elsli prays for you. Oh, if I had not forgotten to pray myself, he would not punish me so now!"

And then she sat silent, looking at the sky and praying from her heart that G.o.d would forgive her forgetfulness of him, and save her and Fani from the danger that threatened them.

"A steamboat! A steamboat! It is going to run us down!" shrieked Fani; and his fears were well grounded. With lightning speed, as it seemed, the great boat came rus.h.i.+ng toward them like a huge giant, and in a few minutes the little boat would be engulfed in the swelling waves.

The children screamed; the steamer came nearer; it was close upon them; the boat was upset! At the same instant Emma was seized by a strong hand, lifted into the air, and then set down upon her feet on the deck of the steamer. Fani was saved, too, by another seaman, and both stood s.h.i.+vering with cold and fright, dripping with water, and soaked to the skin, but safe and sound. The pa.s.sengers crowded about them.

Suddenly a tall, black-bearded man with angry eyes came toward them. It was the captain.

"What madness is this?" he thundered. "Do you think it is the business of steamboats to look out for little fools of fishermen? Whose fault would it have been if you had been run down and drowned?"

But as he looked at the two little dripping, miserable figures, his tone softened.

"Bring them below and give them something hot to drink," he said to one of the gaping by-standers. It was a mercy to get them away from all those staring eyes; they swallowed the steaming contents of the gla.s.s that was given them in the cabin without a word, though it burned their throats. They did not dare to sit down; they were too wet.

After a while the captain came down and asked where they came from, and where they were going in that "old fish-box."

Fani told the whole story without reserve. An expression of amus.e.m.e.nt pa.s.sed over the captain's brown face more than once during this narration, and when he had heard all, he said kindly that they must get themselves dried off as best they could; he was going to stop at Cologne, and there they could take the train home again.

To reward him for saving them, Mrs. Stanhope could invite him to visit her house at the next vintage.

This was their second visit to Cologne; how different it was from the first one!

The captain's parting advice was that they should in future make their expeditions by land rather than by water; it was much safer, he said.

It was pretty dark by this time, and they had some trouble in finding the way to the station. They wandered from street to street inquiring their way, and at last found themselves again at the steamboat wharf, just where they had landed. They began to fear that they should lose the train and have to stay in the city all night. They set out again upon their search, and at last they came upon a policeman, who took pity upon them and led them through alleys and by-streets to the station, where they found that one train had just left, and they must wait two hours for the next. The little wanderers sat down outside the building to wait. They were wet and cold and hungry, but they did not complain of these minor troubles; their anxieties lay far deeper.

"I am dreadfully worried," said Fani, with a deep sigh.

"So am I, but I don't know exactly why," replied Emma.

"Well, I do," said the boy. "I'm perfectly sure that Mrs. Stanhope will send me home after this, and poor Elsli will have to go too, for she could never stay without me."

"Oh, that is dreadful!" cried Emma. She was conscience-stricken. It was a bad sc.r.a.pe, and it was mainly her fault. "Mrs. Stanhope is so kind,"

she went on hopefully, "perhaps she will not be so very angry."

Fani shook his head.

"You don't know about it, Emma. Of course Mrs. Stanhope is the greatest benefactress in the world. But she is very particular about our minding exactly what she tells us; and one of her princ.i.p.al rules is that we must never disturb the regularity of the household, and must keep punctually to just such hours; and now see what we have done! We shall not get home till twelve o'clock to-night, midnight! Probably they are hunting for us everywhere. How will it all turn out? Oh, dear! if she sends us off, there's an end of drawing and painting for me! That's all over"; and Fani looked despairing.

Emma felt that he knew Mrs. Stanhope far better than she did, and her courage began to fail. They sat in silence till the train came along. At the end of their journey they had a long walk from the station to Rosemount, and they stumbled along in the dark, frightened and trembling, and scarcely exchanging a word. Their hearts beat more and more as they neared the house. As they entered the court-yard, the watch-dog began to bark, but he stopped when he heard Fani's voice.

The great house-door was opened, and Aunt Clarissa came out to meet them from the lighted hall.

"Is it you?" she cried. "Thank G.o.d!" and she drew them into the house.

Mrs. Stanhope had not gone to bed. She was standing just inside the door.

"Now you may tell me all about it," she said, looking seriously at the children, who presented a shocking appearance. "So, you've been in the water! Where are the men?"

The children stammered out that they had seen no men. They had just come up from the station.

Mrs. Stanhope shook her head.

"Some one must be sent to the fisherman's hut to tell the men to stop the search," she said coldly. "I will leave the care of the children to more skilful hands"; and she withdrew without more words.

Aunt Clarissa put them to bed directly, and a big pitcher of hot tea was brought to each of them, from which they had to drink one steaming cup after another, till they were warmed through. Then Clarissa sat down first by Emma's bed, and then by Fani's, to learn exactly what had happened, and whether they had met with any injuries that would need a doctor's attention.

In the midst of a.s.surances that they were not injured, and of attempts to explain what had happened, the two tired miscreants fell asleep, and Aunt Clarissa went to her room with thankful heart that things were no worse.

The next morning Fani was determined, in spite of his weariness of limb, to be punctual at the breakfast table. He sprang out of bed the moment that he waked, and dressed an hour too early. He went into the garden to listen to the birds; he thought their happy singing might make him happier. As he was walking up and down, he saw the fisherman coming into the court-yard. He went to meet him. The man stopped and lifted his cap politely. "I know what you have come for," said Fani, taking out his purse; "how much do I owe you?"

The man turned his cap about in his hands, as if he were turning his thoughts over too.