Kitabı oku: «Elsie at Viamede», sayfa 12

CHAPTER XVI

It was a bright, sweet May morning. Reveille sounded at the Naval Academy at Annapolis, and with the first tap of the drum Max woke and sprang from his bed. He glanced from the window as he hurried on his clothes, and a low exclamation of surprise and delight burst from his lips.

"What now, Raymond?" queried Hunt, who was dressing with equal expedition.

"The Dolphin! the Dolphin!" cried Max, in a joyful, exultant tone. "She lies at anchor down yonder, and I haven't a doubt that I shall see my father and all the rest presently."

"Possible? What a fortunate fellow you are, Raymond," returned Hunt, hurrying to the window to take a hasty peep. "Sure enough! and what a beauty she is, that Dolphin! and the captain will be here presently getting you leave to spend the day on board; and it being Saturday, and he and the commandant old friends, there'll be no trouble in managing it. Accept my most hearty congratulations, old fellow."

"Thank you," said Max, vainly trying to suppress his excitement, for his affectionate, boyish heart was bounding with joy at the thought of presently seeing all his loved ones; most of all, the father who was to him the personification of all that was good, honorable, brave, noble, and true; the father to whom, he knew beyond a doubt, he himself was an object of strong parental affection and pride.

"And it's fortunate for you that I'm the fellow to set the room to rights on this memorable occasion," continued Hunt. "I say, Raymond, I think you must have been born under a lucky star."

"Ah, yes, old fellow," laughed Max, "I rather suspect that's what's the matter. But hark! what's that?" as approaching footsteps were heard in the hall without.

A rap quickly followed. Max flew to the door and threw it open, to find a messenger there from the commandant requiring his presence immediately in the grounds below.

Little doubting what awaited him, Max obeyed the summons with joyful alacrity, running down one flight of stairs after another till the lowest hall was reached, then out into the grounds, sending an eagerly inquiring look from side to side.

Ah, yes, in the shade of a tree, yonder, a few yards from the door-way, stood the commandant in earnest conversation with another gentleman, not in uniform, but of decidedly soldierly bearing. Max recognized the face and form on the instant, and flew to meet him.

Both gentlemen turned at the sound of the approaching footsteps.

Max hastily saluted his superior officer, saying half breathlessly, "I am here, sir."

"So I see, Raymond," was the smiling rejoinder, "and for the present I resign you to this gentleman's care," turning toward the captain.

Max's hand was instantly clasped in that of his father, who held it fast and, bending down, kissed his son with ardent affection, saying, with emotion, and in low, earnest tones, "My boy, my dear, dear boy!"

"Papa, papa!" cried Max, his voice, too, trembling with feeling and excitement, "I never was gladder in my life!"

"I am very glad for you, Max," said the commandant, in kindly sympathizing tones. "And Raymond, let me assure you that the lad is worthy of every indulgence that could be afforded him; a more industrious or better behaved cadet I have never had under my care. Hoping to see you again in the course of the day, I bid you good-morning. You also, Max," and with a bow and smile he left father and son alone together.

"So good a report of his eldest son makes your father a very happy man, Max," the captain said, pressing the hand he held, and gazing into the rosy, boyish face with eyes brimful of fatherly love and pride.

"Thank you for saying it, papa," returned Max, flushing with joy; "but with such a father I ought to be a better and brighter boy than I am. But I do try, papa, and I mean always to try to honor you by being and doing all I know you would wish."

"I haven't a doubt of it, my son," the captain said, again affectionately pressing the lad's hand, then letting it go; "but now I must return to the Dolphin, taking my eldest son with me if he wishes me to do so."

"Yes, indeed, papa!" cried the boy, ready to dance with delight; "but may I go back to my room for a moment first? I'm afraid that in my hurry to obey the summons of the commandant, I haven't left everything quite in ship shape."

"Yes, go, son," replied his father; "and if your morning devotions have not been attended to, do not neglect them any longer. I will wait for you here under the trees. By the way, I am to hear your recitations for this morning, so you may bring the needed books with you."

"Yes, sir," returned Max, and hurried away, his father looking after him with proudly beaming eyes till the lithe, graceful young figure disappeared within the door-way, then taking a morning paper from his pocket, he seated himself on a bench beneath a tree to await the lad's return.

He had not long to wait; in a few minutes Max was again at his side, and the two were wending their way toward the row-boat that was to take them to the Dolphin, anchored some distance out in the stream.

All was so still and quiet in and about the vessel that morning that her passengers slept later than usual, but Lulu, as generally happened, was one of the earliest risers, and had not been up long before she hastened to the deck to exchange the accustomed morning greeting with her father. But, to her surprise and disappointment, a hasty glance about the deck showed her that he was not there.

"Why, what is the matter?" she said to herself. "I'm afraid papa must be sick, for I do not know what else would keep him in his stateroom till this time of day. But," with another sweeping glance from side to side, "we're certainly anchored; and where? Why, it looks like – yes, it is Annapolis!" hearing the splash of oars and catching sight of a row-boat with several persons in it, "for there's papa, and Max with him. Oh, oh, oh, how glad I am!" and with the words she ran to the side of the vessel and the next minute was in Max's arms.

It was a very hearty embrace on the part of both, their father standing by and watching them with shining eyes.

"O Maxie, how you have grown!" exclaimed Lulu, gently withdrawing herself from his embrace and scanning him with keen scrutiny from head to foot; "you look every inch a naval cadet."

"Do I?" he queried laughingly. "Thank you, for I consider it a decided compliment. And you too have changed; you are taller, and look more than ever like papa."

"O Max, you could not say anything that would please me better than that," she exclaimed, flushing with pleasure; "and I can return the compliment with interest. I think you will look exactly like our dear father when you are his age," turning toward the captain, and lifting her eyes to his full of ardent filial affection; for he was standing there regarding both with fatherly tenderness, and pride in their youthful comeliness of form and feature.

"My dear, dear children!" he said, bending down to give Lulu the usual morning caress, "your mutual love makes me very happy. May it never be less than it is now!"

At that moment Violet, Grace, and the two little ones joined them, and more hearty, loving embraces followed, all, except Violet, being as much taken by surprise at the sight of Max as Lulu had been.

Grace almost cried with joy as Max caught her in his arms and hugged her close, kissing her sweet lips again and again.

"I doubt," he said laughingly, as he let her go, "if there is another fellow at the Academy who has such sisters as mine, or such a young, pretty mamma, or darling baby brother and sister," kissing each in turn; "and," looking up into his father's face, a telltale moisture gathering in his eyes, "I'm perfectly certain there's not one can show a father to be so proud of."

"Ah, my dear boy, Love is blind to defects and very keen-sighted as regards good and admirable qualities in those she favors," was the captain's answering remark.

"What a surprise you have given us, papa!" exclaimed Lulu; "me at least, for I hadn't the least idea we were coming here."

"No, but some of the rest of us knew," said Violet, with a merry little laugh; "your father told me of his intentions last night – as a secret, however, for he wanted to give you and Gracie a pleasant surprise."

"And it was certainly a pleasant one to me," said Max. "Papa, thank you ever so much."

"Did you get leave for him to stay all day, papa?" asked Lulu in a tone that seemed to say she hoped so with all her heart.

"He will be with us through the day, except during the two hours of drill, which we will all go to see; also all day to-morrow," was the captain's reply to that, and it seemed to give pleasure to all who heard it: all the passengers on board, for by that time the others had come up to the deck, and one after another gave Max a pleased and hearty greeting – the older people as one they had expected to see, the younger with joyful surprise. They gathered about him, some of them – Walter in especial – with many questions in regard to the daily routine of life at the Academy, all of which Max answered readily and to the best of his ability.

"Haven't you lessons to say to-day?" queried Walter.

"Yes, but I'm to recite them to papa," Max replied, with a pleased, smiling glance into his father's face.

"You may well look pleased, Max, for he's an excellent teacher, as all his Viamede pupils can testify," remarked Rosie demurely.

"Oh, yes, I remember now that he has been teaching you all while you were down there," said Max. "Well, I never saw a better teacher, though perhaps, being his son and very fond of him, it's possible I may be a partial judge."

"Quite possible, my boy," laughed his father, "and I think no one of my pupils is disposed to view me with a critic's eye."

"You need not say the rest of it, papa," said Lulu, "for I'm sure you haven't any imperfections to be passed by."

"Quite right, Lu," laughed Violet.

But at that moment came the call to breakfast, a summons everyone was ready to obey with alacrity. They had a pleasant, social time about the table; the fare was excellent, appetites were of the best, and everyone was in fine spirits and high good-humor.

Max was called upon to answer so many questions with regard to life at the Naval Academy, and his replies were listened to with so much deference, that the captain began to fear his boy might become insufferably conceited. Disturbed by that fear, he watched him so closely and with so grave an air that at length Max noticed it, and was much disturbed with the fear that he had unwittingly done or said something to hurt or displease his dearly loved father.

He took the first opportunity – following the captain about the vessel, after breakfast and family prayers were over, till they found themselves alone together for a moment – to inquire, in a tone of much concern, if it were so.

"No, my son, not at all," was the kindly reply, "but I felt a little anxious lest my boy should be spoiled and made conceited by being applied to by older people for so much information."

"I hope not, papa; I know very well it was only because I've been living there and they haven't; and that every one of them knows far more than I do about many another thing."

"Quite true, my son," the captain said, with a smile, adding, "and now you may get out your books and look over those lessons, as I shall soon be ready to hear them."

"Yes, sir; it will be really a great treat to recite to my old tutor once more," returned the lad, with a look of relief and pleasure. "I am very glad indeed that he is not displeased with me as I feared."

"Very far from it, my dear boy," was the captain's kindly rejoinder; "the account given me to-day by the commandant, of your conduct and attention to your studies, was most gratifying to my pride in my eldest son."

Those words, and also the warm praise bestowed upon his recitations when they had been heard, filled the boy's heart with happiness. His father returned to the Academy with him at the hour for drill, but the others witnessed it from the deck of the Dolphin. At its conclusion, Captain Raymond and his son returned to the yacht, Max having permission to remain there until near ten o'clock on Sunday night.

A trip up the river had been planned for the afternoon, and anchor was weighed and the yacht started as soon as her commander and his son had come aboard.

All were seated upon the deck under an awning, greatly enjoying a delicious breeze, the dancing and sparkling of the water, and the distant view of the shore arrayed in the lovely verdure of spring.

Mrs. Dinsmore, Mrs. Travilla, and Mrs. Raymond sat together, busy with fancy work and chatting cheerily, while the younger ones had their drawing materials or books – except Grace, who was dressing a doll for little Elsie. Few of them, however, were accomplishing a great deal, there being so small necessity for the employment and so many things to withdraw their attention from it.

Max speedily made his way to Mrs. Travilla's side. She looked up from her work, and greeted him with her sweet smile. "It is quite delightful to have you among us again, my dear boy," she said, taking his hand and pressing it affectionately in hers.

"Thank you, dear Grandma Elsie," he returned, his eyes sparkling; "it is a great pleasure to hear you say so, though I don't know how to believe that you can enjoy it half so much as I do."

"I am glad to hear that you do, laddie," she said brightly. "Now suppose we have a bit of chat together. Take that camp chair by your grandmother's side and tell her how you enjoy that artillery exercise you have just been going through."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Max laughingly, as he took the seat indicated. "It's really delightful to be treated as a relative by so dear and sweet a lady, but you do look so young that it seems almost ridiculous for a great fellow like me to call you grandma."

"Does it? Why, your father calls me mother, and to be so related to him surely must make me your grandmother."

"But you are not really old enough to be his mother, and I am his oldest child."

"And begin to feel yourself something of a man, since you are not called Max, but Mr. Raymond at the Academy yonder?" she returned in a playfully interrogative tone.

Max seemed to consider a moment, then smiling, but blushing vividly, "I'm afraid I must plead guilty to that charge, Grandma Elsie," he said with some hesitation.

"What is that, Max?" asked his father, drawing near just in time to catch the last words.

"That I begin to feel that – as if I'm a – at least almost – a man, sir," answered the lad, stammering and coloring with mortification.

"Ah, that's not so very bad, my boy," laughed his father. "I believe that at your age I was more certain of being one than you are – really feeling rather more fully convinced of my wisdom and consequence than I am now."

"Were you indeed, papa? then there is hope for me," returned the lad, with a pleased look. "I was really afraid you would think me abominably conceited."

"No, dear boy, none of us think you that," said Mrs. Travilla, again smiling sweetly upon him. "But you have not yet answered my query as to how you enjoyed the artillery exercise we have just seen you go through."

"Oh, I like it!" returned Max, his eyes sparkling. "And I don't think I shall ever regret my choice of a profession if I succeed in passing, and become as good an officer as my father has been," looking up into the captain's face with a smile full of affection and proud appreciation.

"Now I fear my boy is talking of something that he knows very little about," said the captain, a twinkle of fun in his eye. "Who told you, Max, that your father had been a good officer?"

"My commandant, sir, who knows all about it, or at least thinks he does."

At that instant there was a sound like the splashing of oars on the farther side of the vessel, and a boyish voice called out, "Ahoy there, Raymond! A message from the commandant!"

"Oh, I hope it isn't to call you back, Maxie!" exclaimed Lulu, springing up and following Max and her father as they hastened to that side of the vessel, expecting to see a row-boat there with a messenger from the Academy.

But no boat of that kind was in sight. Could it have passed around the vessel? Max hurried to the other side to make sure but no boat was there.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, with a merry laugh, "it was Mr. Lilburn," and he turned a smiling, amused face toward the old gentleman, who had followed, and now stood close at his side.

"Eh, laddie! what was Mr. Lilburn?" queried the accused. "That I'm no down there in a boat is surely evident to all who can see me standing here. Are ye no ashamed to so falsely accuse an auld friend who wad never do harm to you or yours?"

Then a voice seemed to come from a distant part of the vessel. "Ah, sir, ye ken that ye're known to be up to such tricks. All only to make fun for your friends, though, not to cause fright or harm to anyone – unless it might be a gambler or some other rascal."

"Hear that, now, cousin!" cried Mr. Lilburn. "Somebody seems ready to do justice to the auld man our fine young cadet here is so ready to suspect and accuse."

By this time all the other passengers had joined them, everybody but the very little ones understood the joke, and it was received with merry peals of laughter.

To Max the afternoon and evening seemed to pass very quickly, so delightful was it to be once more surrounded by his dear ones, not the least pleasant part being a half hour spent alone with his father after the others had retired; he had so many little confidences that he would not willingly have shared with anyone else, and they were heard with so much evident interest, such hearty sympathy, and replied to with such good and kindly advice. Max was even more firmly convinced than ever before that such another dear, kind, and lovable father as his was nowhere to be found.

And, by the way, the captain was almost equally sure that no other man had a son quite so bright, handsome, intelligent, noble, industrious, and in every way worthy to be the pride of his father's heart, as this dear lad who was his own.

"God, even the God of his fathers, keep my dear boy in every hour of trial and temptation, and help him to walk steadily in the strait and narrow way that leads to everlasting life," he said with emotion when bidding his son goodnight. "Keep close to the dear Master, my son, ever striving to serve and honor him in all your words and ways, and all will be well with you at the last."

CHAPTER XVII

The captain, Max, and Lulu were all three early on deck the next morning – as lovely a May morning as ever was seen. The sun had but just showed his face above the horizon when Lulu mounted the companion-way to the deck, but she found her father and brother already there, sitting side by side, both looking very happy and content.

"Good-morning, papa and Max," she said, hurrying toward them.

The salutation was returned by both in cheery, pleasant tones.

"I thought I'd be the very first on deck; but here you both are before me," she added as she gained her father's side.

"But pleased to have you join us," he said, drawing her to a seat upon his knee. "A sweet Sabbath morning, is it not? And how did my little girl sleep?"

"As well as possible, thank you, papa. It is much cooler here than at Viamede now, and a delightful breeze came in at the window. But I almost always sleep well, and that is something to be thankful for, isn't it?"

"It is, indeed," he responded. "May my dear eldest daughter never be kept awake by the reproaches of a guilty conscience, cares and anxieties, or physical distress; though that last I can hardly hope she will escape always until she reaches that blessed land where 'the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick.'"

"Yes, sir," she said, "I ought to be very thankful that I am so healthy; I hope I am; but any kind of physical pain I have ever been tried with is far easier for me to bear than the reproaches of a guilty conscience. I can never forget how hard they were to endure after I had hurt dear little Elsie so because I was in a passion."

"I can't bear to think of that time," said Max; "so let us talk of something else. The view here is lovely, is it not, papa?"

"Oh," cried Lu in surprise, "we are at anchor again in the river at Annapolis, aren't we, papa?"

"Yes; I brought you all back here in the night, to spend the Sabbath. I think we will go into the city to church this morning, and have some religious exercises on the vessel this afternoon and evening."

"Oh, I like that plan, papa," said Max, "especially the afternoon part, for I am really hungry for one of those interesting Bible lessons with you for my teacher."

"Yes, Maxie, I pity you that you can't share them with Gracie and me every Sunday," said Lulu. "Papa, won't you give us – Max and Gracie and me – a private Bible lesson all to ourselves after the service for the grown folks, sailors and all, has been held, just as you used to do when we were all at home at Woodburn?"

"Quite willingly, if my children wish it; indeed, it is what I had contemplated doing," replied the captain; "for we cannot better employ the hours of the holy Sabbath than in the study of God's Word, which he has given us to be a 'lamp to our feet and a light to our path' that we may journey safely to that happy land where sin and sorrow are unknown.

"Never forget, my children, that we are but strangers and pilgrims upon this earth, only passing through it on our way to an eternal home of either everlasting blessedness or never ending woe – a home where all is holiness, joy, peace, and love, or to that other world of unending remorse and anguish, 'the blackness of darkness forever.'"

"It is very difficult to keep that always in mind, papa," said Max. "I hope you will often ask God to help us – me especially – to remember it constantly, and live, not for time, but for eternity."

"I do, my dear boy; there is never a day when I do not ask my heavenly Father to guard and guide each one of my dear children and give them a home with him at last. But we must all strive to enter in at the strait gate, remembering the warning of Jesus, 'Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.'"

Violet joined them at that moment, then the rest of the party, one after another. Then came the call to breakfast; and soon after leaving the table, and the holding of the regular morning service on the vessel, nearly everyone went ashore and to church.

At the close of the exercises there, they returned to the Dolphin, dined, a little later assembled under the awning on the deck, and being presently joined by the greater part of the crew, another short service, consisting of the reading of the Scriptures, with explanatory remarks, prayer, and the singing of hymns, followed.

After that, the captain took his three older children aside and gave them, as in the dear old times at Woodburn, a Bible lesson, in which they were free to ask of him as many questions as they would.

"Papa," said Grace, "I was reading in Isaiah this morning this verse, 'Therefore, thus saith the Lord God, Behold I lay in Zion for a foundation, a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure foundation.' Does it mean the dear Lord Jesus, papa?"

"Yes, daughter; in both the Old and New Testaments Christ Jesus is called a Foundation. The foundation of a building is the part that supports all the rest; and that Jesus is to all his Church, his people. He is the foundation of all the comforts, hopes, happiness of the Christian; the foundation of the covenant God has made with his Church; the foundation of all the sweet and precious promises of God's Word; a sure foundation on which his people may securely rest, knowing that he will never deceive, fail, or forsake anyone who trusts in him. He is the only Saviour, the head of the Church, the only Mediator between God and man.

"We are not to look too much to our feelings, doings, prayers, or even our faith, but on the finished work of Christ. We can have assurance of hope, but must attain to it by resting upon God's word of promise, remembering that it is Christ's righteousness which God accepts, not ours, so imperfect, so unworthy of mention.

"In that way only can we have peace and safety, for our own righteousness is but as filthy rags, exceedingly offensive in the sight of God, who is 'of purer eyes than to behold sin, and cannot look upon iniquity,' so utterly abhorrent is it to his holy nature.

"The Bible tells us, 'He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life; he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.'"

"Papa," said Grace, low and feelingly, "those are dreadful words, 'the wrath of God abideth on him.'"

"They are indeed," he said. "The one great question is, 'Do you believe on the Son of God?' There in Egypt, when God sent those plagues upon Pharaoh and his people, it was not the feelings of the Israelites that saved them, but the blood on the door-posts, symbolizing the blood of Christ, which would in future ages be offered to satisfy the demands of God's broken law; and it was when he saw that blood that the angel passed over, harming them not.

"The scape-goat too, was a type of Christ bearing the sins of the people away into the wilderness; if our sins are laid on Jesus they will come no more into remembrance before our righteous Judge, but covered with the beautiful robe of his righteousness, God will treat us as if it were our very own. Ah, my beloved children, it is the dearest wish of your father's heart that each one of you may have that righteousness put upon you!"

A slight pause; then Grace said in low, clear, and joyous tones, "Papa, I think we have. I feel that I do love Jesus and trust in him, and so do Max and Lulu, I believe."

"I do," said Max with feeling. "I know I am very, very far from perfect, but I do desire above everything else to be a follower of Jesus, and known as such; to live near him, and honor him in all my words and ways."

"My boy, nothing could have made me happier than that confession from your lips," his father said with emotion. "And it is no less a joy of heart to me to know that my dear little Grace is a follower of Jesus." He drew her nearer as he spoke, then turned loving, questioning eyes upon Lulu.

"Papa," she said in tremulous tones, "I – I feel that I am not worthy to be called one of Jesus' disciples, but I do love him, and long to grow in likeness to him. I do ask him very, very often to take away all the evil that is in me, and make me just what he would have me to be."

"And he will hear your prayer, he will grant your petition," her father replied in moved tones. "Oh, my dear children, your father's heart is full of thankfulness that he has reason to hope and believe that you are all true followers of the blessed Master, and that we may all live and love together, not in this world only, but also in the next."

To Max that delightful day and evening seemed very short. He was surprised when his father, glancing at his watch, said, "It is half past nine, my son. Say good-night and good-by to your friends here, for we must go back to the Academy. It need not be a very sad parting," he added, with a smile, "as you may expect to see some, if not all, of us next month, at the time of the commencement exercises."

"Thank you, papa; that is good news," said the lad, his countenance brightening very much, "for it is the greatest treat to a fellow to see home folks once in a while."

"I know that, my boy. I haven't forgotten the feelings of a cadet, which are pretty much like those of other lads."

The farewells were quickly spoken, father and son entered the waiting row-boat, and in a few minutes were at the Academy.

Captain Raymond bade his son good-by at the door, reminding him in cheerful tones that he might hope to see him, and perhaps the entire Woodburn family, again in a few weeks.

With that pleasant prospect in view, Max went to his room in excellent spirits. He found Hunt already there.

"Hello, Max! glad to see you back again," he exclaimed in a tone of hearty good-will. "Had a royal time of it, I suppose?"

"Delightful!" cried Max gayly; "and the best of it is that my father holds out the prospect of another visit from our whole family at the time of the June commencement, which you know is not so very far off."

"Well, I must say you're a lucky dog, Raymond," returned Hunt. "I wish I had the same prospect of seeing my folks; but they're too far off, and money's too scarce."

Violet was alone on deck when her husband returned to the yacht, the others having retired to the cabin or their state-rooms.

"Waiting for me, love?" he asked, as he stepped to her side and passed an arm round her waist.

"Yes," she said; "the air is so pleasant here, and I thought it would be really delightful for us two to have the deck entirely to ourselves for a while."

"Nothing could be pleasanter to me, dearest," he said, giving her his arm and beginning a leisurely promenade.

"And you have left Max at the Academy again?" she said interrogatively. "How manly he grows, the dear fellow! and so handsome; he's a son to be proud of, Levis."

"So his father thinks," returned the captain, with a low, happy little laugh. "My dear boy is one of God's good gifts to me."

"And how evidently he admires and loves his father – as he well may, I think. He grows more and more like you in looks, too, Levis. I can imagine that at his age you were just what he is now."

"No, my dear; if I am not much mistaken he is both a handsomer and a better lad than his father was at the same age."

"Doubtless not half so conceited and vain as his father was then or is now," she returned, with her low, sweet silvery laugh. "There must have been a vast improvement, however, before I had the happiness of making his acquaintance."

"Max's?" he queried with mock gravity.

"The acquaintance of Max's father, sir," she replied demurely. "I have known the captain now for five years, and can truly say I have never seen him show such vanity and conceit as you are pleased to charge him with, or at least to say were once among his attributes; and I will not have him slandered, even by you."