The Fourth Watch Part 36

Her father looked up quickly at the suggestion.

"Capital!" he exclaimed. "It's just what I need. I am becoming too moody, and the fresh air will revive me."

He was almost like a child now in his eagerness to be off. With his stout cane in one hand, and leaning upon his daughter's arm, he moved slowly along the dry road, through the village and out into the country where the houses were few.

"Oh, this is life, grand, true life!" and he stood for a few minutes looking far away across the broad fields. The air laden with the freshness of spring drifted about them; the birds flitting overhead were pouring forth their joyous music, while on every side early flowers were lifting their tiny heads. All nature seemed to combine to give a glad welcome to these two wayfarers.

At length, coming to a cross road, Nellie paused.

"Look, father," and she pointed to a large tree near by. "What a cool, shady spot! Suppose we rest there for a while, and I will read some from the little book I have brought with me."

Willingly Mr. Westmore conceded to her wish, and soon they were snugly seated on the gra.s.sy sward. With his back against the tree, Parson John breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a large, white handkerchief.

So absorbed did they both become in the book that neither noticed the black clouds which had been gathering away to the south, and were now rolling up fearful and threatening beneath the sun. A distant peal of thunder, followed by a bright flash of lightning, startled them.

"A storm is coming!" exclaimed Nellie, springing to her feet. "We must hurry home at once! The road to the right is shorter. I know it quite well; we had better take that."

They had not proceeded far, however, before the peals of thunder became more intense, and soon large drops of rain came spattering down.

"We're in for a heavy storm," panted Mr. Westmore. "It's about to burst upon us. We must seek shelter!"

"There's a house right ahead," Nellie replied. "Perhaps we can get in there."

They plodded on in silence now, and turned in at a little gate none too soon. Scarcely had they entered the small porch in front of the house ere the storm broke. Hail, mingled with rain, came thundering down upon the roof, and, das.h.i.+ng against the gla.s.s, threatened to smash in every pane.

The thunder crashed and shook the house, while the lightning streaked the air with blinding flashes.

"This is terrible!" exclaimed Nellie, clinging to her father's arm, her face very white. "We must get into the house!"

They knocked upon the door, but received no response. Again they rapped louder than before, and at length a key was slowly turned and a woman, neatly dressed and fair to look upon, peered timidly forth. A relieved look came into her face as she saw the two standing there.

"Come in," she said, giving a little nervous laugh. "This fearful storm has quite overcome me."

She led the way into a cosy sitting-room, and offered her visitors chairs.

"You will pardon our intrusion, I am sure," explained Mr. Westmore. "We came simply for shelter. We are much obliged to you."

"Not at all, sir," replied the woman. "I am so glad you came. I am alone with the children, and they are all much frightened."

"And your husband is away?"

"Yes. He's been gone all winter. He was working in the woods for Rodgers & Peterson, and is now on the drive."

"Dear me! it must be hard for you to have him away so much."

"It is, sir. But he will stay home after this. He has earned enough this winter to make the last payment on our farm. We have been struggling for years, saving every cent and working hard to get the place free from debt, and now it will be our very own if--if--," and the woman hesitated.

"How glad your husband will be to be home," said Nellie, with her eyes fixed upon several bright little faces in the doorway. "He must long to see you all."

"Ay, indeed he does, but especially Doris. She is our invalid girl, you see, and is very dear to us. She can't romp and play like the others, and I suppose for that reason she appeals to us the more."

"Has she been ill long?" questioned Mr. Westmore, becoming now much interested.

"For five years. It's hip disease, and she will never walk without a crutch, if she does then. Perhaps you would like to see her."

They were conducted into a small bedroom, and the sight which met their eyes moved them both. Lying on the bed was a girl of about fifteen years of age, with a sweet, fair face, large, expressive eyes, and a high forehead crowned by a wealth of jet-black hair, parted in the middle and combed back with considerable care. The room was as neat and clean as loving hands could make it. A bright smile illumined the girl's face, which Nellie thought the most beautiful she had ever looked upon.

"It's so good of you to come to see me," she said. "Very few come, and I do get lonely at times."

"You will be glad when your father comes home, will you not?" Nellie remarked, taking the girl's thin, white hand.

"Oh, it will be delightful! He has been away so long. Let me see," and she counted on her fingers. "He has not been home since Christmas."

"But he writes to you, though?"

"Yes, such lovely letters, all about his work. But the last one was so sad. I have cried over it many times. I have it right here. Would you like to read it? It's so interesting."

"Suppose you tell us about it, dear," said Mr. Westmore, taking a chair by the side of the bed. "That will be better."

The girl's face flushed a little, and she hesitated.

"I'm afraid I can't tell it half as well as father does in his letter. You know, the men were bringing the logs down Big Creek Brook, and they all got stuck in a nasty place called Giant Gorge. One big log in some way, I don't understand, stopped the rest, and it had to be cut out. It was a dangerous thing to do, and the men drew lots to see who would go down into that awful place. And just think, papa drew the paper with the mark upon it, which meant that he was to do it! I shudder and cry every time I think about it. Well, as dear papa was about to go, a young man, Tony Stickles, sprang forward and said he would go, because papa had six children and a wife who needed him. Wasn't that lovely of him? I should like to see him.

And just think, before papa could stop him he sprang upon the logs, cut away the one which held the rest, and all rushed down right on top of him.

Papa said he was sure Tony would be killed, but he jumped from one log to another, and when all thought he would get to the sh.o.r.e, the logs opened and he fell into the water. Then something wonderful happened, so papa said. As Tony was clinging there a boy suddenly came along, jumped upon the logs, ran over them, and pulled Tony out just in time. But a log hit the poor little boy, and Tony had to carry him ash.o.r.e. Don't you think that's a lovely story, and weren't they both very brave, real heroes like you read about in books? Oh, I lie here hour by hour and think it all over!"

The girl's face was quite flushed now, for she had spoken hurriedly, and her eyes shone brighter than ever. She was living the scene she related.

"What a nice story you have told us," Nellie replied when Doris had finished. "I am glad to hear what a brave deed Tony did, for we both know him."

"What! you know him?" cried the girl.

"Yes, very well. Ever since he was a baby."

"How nice it must be to know a real hero!" sighed the girl. "Please tell me about him."

And there in the little room Nellie told about Tony, his mother, brothers and sisters, to which Doris listened most eagerly.

"We must go now," said Mr. Westmore rising to his feet and looking out of the window. "The storm has cleared and the sun is s.h.i.+ning brightly."

"But you will both come again, won't you?" Doris inquired as she held out her hand.

"Yes, if you want us to do so," Nellie replied. "But we don't wish to tire you."

"You won't tire me. I long for someone to talk to, and you know so much."

Parson John had now left the room, and Nellie was holding the girl's hand.

She glanced at the door to make sure that her father could not hear, then she bent over the bed.

"Did your father tell you the name of that boy who saved Tony's life?"