Sweetapple Cove Part 4

Upon the porch were a few feeble geraniums, and some nasturtiums and bachelor's b.u.t.tons twined themselves hopefully on strings disposed for them.

At the sound of our footsteps the door was quickly opened. A young woman appeared but the light was behind her and her features were not very distinct.

"Couldn't you get him?" she cried, in sore disappointment.

"Yes, ma'am. That's what I went for," said Sammy. "I telled yer I'd sure bring him, and here he be."

I had come nearer, and then, I am afraid, I somewhat forgot my manners and stared at her.

CHAPTER IV

_From Miss Helen Jelliffe to Miss Jane Van Zandt_

_Dearest Aunt Jennie_:

I did try so hard to get you to come on this cruise with us. You said you preferred remaining in Newport to sharing in a wild journey to places one has never heard of, and now I am compelled to recognize your superior wisdom. I wish we had never heard of this dreadful hole. I am now reduced to the condition of a weepful Niobe, utterly helpless to contend against the sad trend of events. I know how much you disapprove of lingering, being such an active little body, and so I will tell you the worst at once. Poor dear Daddy has just broken his leg, and, of all places, in the most forsaken hole and corner of this dreary island of Newfoundland.

Daddy has always boasted of his perseverance in the pursuit of the unusual in sport. This time he found it with a vengeance. Our mate, who hails from these parts, once told him of this place, and implied that the salmon in the little river running down into this cove would take a fly whether awake or asleep, and jostled one another for the privilege. While Daddy is rather fond of a gun, you and I know that there are only two weapons he is really absorbed in. I suppose that the first is the instrument he uses to cut off coupons with, and the next is his salmon rod, which I would like to break into little pieces, for it has been the cause of turning our long bowsprit towards this horrid jumble of rock and sea. I considered that we were lucky to have found our way into Sweetapple Cove without any particular disaster, but of course such luck could not last long.

We ought never to have come any way, for our skipper, the descendant of Vikings, had implied that our schooner was in need of all sorts of repairs, and that sensible people did not start off on long cruises just after months in Florida which had converted the s.h.i.+p's bottom into a sort of vegetable garden. Daddy consoled him by telling him he could leave us there and go off to St. John's to the dry-dock.

You know how pleasantly Daddy speaks to people, and how they detect under his words a firmness which effectively prevents long discussion.

Stefansson is really a racing skipper, but he likes his berth on the _s...o...b..rd_ and said nothing more. We reached this place where, for lack of level ground, the few houses use all sorts of stilts and crutches, and invaded the village to the intense amazement of the populace and its dogs.

Then came Daddy's genius for organization. Within two hours we had rented a little house for next to nothing a week, furnished it in sixty minutes with odds and ends from the yacht, including our little bra.s.s bedsteads, which the people here firmly believe to be pure gold, A wild daughter of the Cove, a descendant of the family that gave it its extraordinary name, was engaged as a general servant. Daddy's valet and the cook had wept when they saw the place, and Father informed them that they were rubbish and might go back with the _s...o...b..rd_, which presently sailed off for the sc.r.a.ping it appears to be ent.i.tled to.

Daddy at once selected a rod with all the care such affairs of state require, and set forth across the cove with two natives, in a dory. They went ash.o.r.e on the banks of the little river and began to clamber over a terrific jumble of rocks. A salmon was caught so quickly that Father grew boyish with enthusiasm and capered over more rocks.

And then came the accident, Aunt Jennie, and I am still shaky, and tearful, and though I try to write like a normal human being I am desirous of shrieking. There was just a slip and a fall, and a foot caught between two boulders. Poor Daddy was dragged from the swift water into which he had been wading and placed in the bottom of the dory, a most damp and smelly ambulance.

Of course I dashed down to the sh.o.r.e as soon as people came to tell me what had happened, and naturally I got into everybody's way. It was strange to see how these very rough-looking men took hold of poor Daddy.

They were just as gentle as could be, and made an arrangement of fish-carrying barrows upon which they lifted him up and brought him to the house.

I was weeping all this time and Daddy consoled me by telling me not to be a fool. Susie, our new handmaiden, simply howled. We were bundled out, chiefly by Daddy's language, and clamored for a doctor. It actually transpired that there was one in the place, to my infinite relief. The fact that he was gone to a little island away out at sea appeared to be but an insignificant detail. An ancient mariner whom Coleridge must have been acquainted with promised to go and bring him back. If the weather did not turn out too badly he would return in three or four hours. He informed me that it was beginning to look very nasty outside. It always does, in such cases, I believe.

I spent the afternoon trying to do all I could for Daddy, and occasionally climbed up on the cliff nearly adjoining our house, to watch for the boat. An abominable fog began to come up, rolling before a dreadful wind, and I moistened more handkerchiefs, since it was perfectly evident to me that no small boat would ever return to land in such a blow. Susie told me that I must not despair, and that people did really manage to work fis.h.i.+ng boats in such weather, sometimes. I considered her to be a cheerful prevaricator, and told her she didn't know what she was talking about. At this she curtsied humbly and a.s.sented with the "Yis, ma'am" of the lowly, and all I could do was to keep on despairing.

It was really the most dismal afternoon I ever spent, and when it began to get dark I gave up all hope. After I had become thoroughly saturated with misery Susie came to me, grinning.

"I's heerd men a comin'," she told me. "Like as not it's th' doctor."

I dashed out of the front door and met two dreadful looking creatures in oilskins. As one of them was the ancient mariner I made up my mind he had failed in his mission. But the other stared at me for an instant, quietly stepped on the few planks we call the porch, and began to shed his outer skin, which fell with a flop.

"Are you the doctor?" I finally asked him.

He bowed, very civilly, followed me into the house, and the other man placidly sat down on the porch, while the slanting rain rattled on his armour. I need hardly tell you that these people are as amphibious as manatees.

Once within doors I scrutinized the doctor. He was a rather nice tall chap with hair showing slightly the dearth of barbers in Sweetapple Cove, a fact Daddy had informed himself of, for I had seen him looking disconsolately at a safety razor. This man was also rather badly unshaven, and a blue flannel s.h.i.+rt with a sodden string of a necktie formed part of his apparel. I have seen healthy longsh.o.r.emen rather more neatly garbed. I'm afraid that at first I was badly disappointed.

I stood at the door of father's room, which is also the parlor and dining room, hesitating foolishly. At last I asked the man to come in.

"Daddy dear, here is the doctor," I said.

You know that father does not consider himself merely as a tax-payer, and a connoisseur in split bamboos. He prides himself upon his knowledge of men and, before trusting himself to this one, had to study him carefully.

I could see that he was taken a little by surprise.

"Er--er," he hesitated, "are you a physician, sir?"

"Appearances are deceptive in these jumping-off places," answered the young man. "I possess a diploma or two, and such knowledge as I have is entirely at your service."

He didn't really seem to be at all embarra.s.sed. His look was rather a pleasant one, after all, and suddenly I became inspired with confidence.

I think Daddy was impressed in the same way.

"I'm in an awful fix," he announced. "I am quite sure that my leg is broken, and of course it requires the very best attention. I can afford to take no chances with it and need a first-cla.s.s man. Are you quite sure...?"

The doctor sat down by the bed, quietly, and appeared to look at Daddy understandingly. He doubtless realized that he was in the presence of one of those men whose success in life, together with the possession of grand-parents, causes them to regard themselves as endowed with the combined wisdom of the law and the prophets. I am quite sure that he also detected the big fund of common sense which lurks in the keen grey eyes under Daddy's bushy eye-brows.

"You have my deepest sympathy, Mr. Jelliffe," he began. "I need hardly point out the fact that I am the only doctor available. I am going to do my very best for you. They have some very good men in St. John's, and we may be able to get one of them to come down here, in a few days, to look over my work. In the meanwhile your leg must be attended to so that no further harm will be done. Let us have a look at it."

"I'll have to trust you," said Daddy, very soberly.

"Of course you will have to, Daddy," I put in. "You must be very good.

When you move your poor leg hurts you dreadfully, and the doctor will fix it so that it won't be so painful."

I stood at the head of the bed and poor Daddy allowed me to stroke his hand, a thing he usually resents. I know that he was in great pain and feared other unknown tortures. The poor man looked at the tall doctor's big hands as if he deemed them instruments of potential torture. One really couldn't blame him for having scant confidence in a man whose business appears to be the care of this poverty-stricken population.

The doctor was pulling off his heavy pea-jacket and appeared in dark blue flannel which revealed very capable shoulders. They reminded me of Harry Lawrence. The ancient mariner came in with a bag he had been sent for. He had also deposited his oilskins on the porch and respected other conventionalities by removing his great muddy boots and entering the room in huge flaming scarlet socks, neatly darned with white yarn. He smiled blandly at Daddy.

"Hope you is feelin' some better, sir," he said. "Don't you be talkin', for if you isn't t'won't be no time afore you is. You're sure in luck as how I could bring him, an' I'll jist lay yer a quintal as how he's goin'

to fix yer s.h.i.+pshape."

Then there was a knock at the door and a dripping woman entered. There was not the slightest trace of timidity in her manner. Really, Aunt Jennie, I thought at first that she was the most awful frump I had ever seen. Her head was wrapped in a soaking little shawl, and her dress was a remnant of grand-mother's days. Yet the poise of her head, the pleasant smile upon her face and, more than all, her delightful voice, gave an immediate hint of infinitely good breeding.

"Can't I help?" she asked. "I'd be awfully glad to. I should have been in before but I was detained at the Burtons'. Had to look after the woman during your absence, Dr. Grant."

"I beg to introduce the providence of Sweetapple Cove," said the doctor.

"Mrs. Barnett is the one person who proves the vulgar error that none of us is indispensable."

She threw off her shawl, laughing.

"The doctor and I often hunt in couples," she explained.

Her voice was really the most delightful thing you ever heard. I forgot her clothes, and her big boots, and went up to her, holding out my hand.

"Won't you let me take your shawl?" I asked. "It is sopping wet."