Kitabı oku: «Jack the Hunchback: A Story of Adventure on the Coast of Maine», sayfa 5
Chapter IX
THE ALARM
It must be confessed that Jack was not at all eager to face the alleged burglars.
He knew very well that if there were no more than two he would stand a slim chance of driving them away, and even one good sized man might make it very uncomfortable for him.
Had he been left to follow his own inclinations, the outer door would not have been opened, but he knew Aunt Nancy depended upon him for protection, and he must make a reputation for courage or be disgraced in her eyes.
The sky was overcast with clouds, and Jack could not distinguish objects ten paces away as he stepped on to the broad stone in front of the door.
He heard the key turn in the lock behind him, and this was sufficient to tell him he need not expect any assistance from the little woman inside.
Grasping the carving knife firmly, he moved forward slowly in the direction of the shed, and saw a shadowy form dart around the corner of the building.
Then another, or the same one, returned, approached Jack, and stooped over as if in the act of placing something on the ground.
An instant later the shadow had disappeared, and Jack saw before him a thin line of sparks, apparently coming from the solid earth, but not sufficiently large to cast any light.
Quite naturally Jack's first thought was that the miscreants were trying to set the buildings on fire, and he ran forward to extinguish what seemed ready to burst into a flame, when there was a muffled report, the ground appeared to be a mass of coals, while at the same time a soft, sticky substance was thrown in a shower upon him.
Jack leaped back in surprise and alarm, and as he did so struck his foot against some obstruction with sufficient power to throw him headlong.
The explosion, the sudden glare of light, and the shower of he knew not what, all served to bewilder the boy to such an extent that for the moment it seemed as if the same force which caused the report had knocked him down.
The first idea which came into his mind was that he had been shot, for he remembered having heard that the victim does not feel pain for some time after a bullet enters his body, and the sticky substance on his face he thought must be blood.
"That Bill Dean meant what he said, an' has commenced drivin' me out of town," he muttered to himself, making not the slightest effort to rise, because he believed it impossible to do so.
The silence was almost oppressive after the loud report.
Jack could hear nothing to denote that there was any one in the vicinity, and was feeling of his limbs to ascertain the amount of injury done, when a shrill, tremulous voice from the doorway cried, —
"Jack! Jack dear! Are you hurt much?"
"I'm afraid I'm shot. It seems as if I was bleedin' dreadful!"
"Wait till I can light the lantern, my poor boy"; and the door was closed and locked again.
By this time Jack had fully persuaded himself he was seriously wounded, and wondered how long it would be before the pain came.
Two minutes later Aunt Nancy, partially dressed and with an odd little lantern in her hand, emerged very cautiously from the house.
The fear Jack might be fatally injured was greater than that of the supposed burglars. Her desire to aid others conquered her timidity, and the only thought was to bring relief as speedily as possible.
"Mercy on us! What a dreadful thing!" Aunt Nancy exclaimed as she arrived at the place where Jack was lying at full length on the ground. "Tell me where you are hurt, my poor child."
"I don't know; but it seems as if somethin' tough must have happened, for I'm bleedin' terribly."
The little woman knelt by his side, and held the lantern up until its rays illumined the boy's face.
"I can't see any blood, Jack dear; but you seem to be literally covered with something yellow."
The boy passed his hand over his face, scraping off the supposed sanguinary fluid, and examined it carefully by aid of the light.
Then he leaped to his feet very quickly, looking both ashamed and angry.
"It's some kind of a trick Bill Dean's gang have been playing!" he cried, and at that instant from behind the barn came a shout of derision, followed by hearty laughter.
"Oh, I wish I was strong enough to flog those wicked wretches!" Aunt Nancy said, her eyes filling with tears of vexation.
Jack made no reply.
He had taken the lantern from her hand, and was searching carefully in the immediate vicinity.
It was not long before he and Aunt Nancy decided that the yellow substance was the seeds and pulp of a pumpkin, and Jack said, as he picked up several pieces of red paper, —
"Now I know what it means. Those fellers have dug the inside out of a pumpkin, and put into it a big firecracker. They waited until I came near the shed before lighting it, an', of course, when the thing exploded it sent the stuff flyin'."
"Thank goodness it was no worse!" the little woman added, and Jack burst into a hearty laugh.
Despite the suffering caused by fear, the idea that he had been scared almost into dying by an exploded pumpkin was comical in the extreme, and his mirth was not checked until Aunt Nancy asked quite sharply, —
"What on earth are you laughing at?"
"To think how frightened we got about nothing."
"I'm sure it was a good deal. Here we've been forced out of our beds at this hour of the night, believing burglars were around, and then scared nearly to death because it appeared as if you were wounded, all on account of those terrible boys who wanted to have some sport!"
"It can't be helped now, an' the sooner you get into the house the less will be the chances of your taking cold," Jack replied, checking his mirth with difficulty as he saw how angry Aunt Nancy really was.
Although it was a practical joke which had caused a great deal of mental anxiety for a short time, he could not look upon it otherwise than as funny, except when he realized that this was the first step taken to drive him out of the town.
The little woman insisted on examining the interior of the shed to learn if the boys had done any further mischief, and they found fragments of pumpkin and paper, showing that the "infernal machine" had been constructed there.
Nothing appeared to have been disturbed, and the two who had been so unceremoniously awakened returned to the house after the pulp was scraped with a chip from Jack's face, hair, and clothing.
It was a long time before the boy could induce slumber to visit his eyelids again that night, but he finally succeeded with such good effect that he did not awaken until the noise Aunt Nancy made while building the fire aroused him.
Dressing hurriedly, he went downstairs in time to do a portion of the work, and when the milk was brought into the house after old crumple horn had been driven to pasture, Aunt Nancy asked, —
"Do you think you could take care of Louis a little while this forenoon?"
"Of course I can. Are you going visitin'?"
"Yes; I intend to see if something can't be done to prevent those wretched boys from carrying on in this manner."
"But, Aunt Nancy – "
"Now don't say a word, Jack dear. Things were very much like this last summer when I hired a boy from Portland, and no one can tell what might have happened if he hadn't run away. I know it is wrong to get angry, but I can't help it. Seems to me I am growing more wicked every day; yesterday I just the same as told a lie, and last night I did not control my angry passions."
"But, Aunt Nancy – "
"Don't try to argue with me, or I shall get worse. I am going to see Mr. Dean at once, and you must keep house till I come back."
Louis's guardian realized that words would be worse than useless at such a time, and he wisely refrained from speaking, while Aunt Nancy, as if trying hard to keep her temper within bounds, did the morning work in ominous silence.
When the last duty had been performed, she directed Jack to take the baby out under the old oak, and then disappeared for half an hour or more, at the end of which time she reappeared dressed with scrupulous neatness, but in the quaintest of fashions.
"I sha'n't be away more than an hour; and if any of those boys show themselves, be sure to go into the house with Louis at once."
Saying this, she walked swiftly down the lane, and Jack muttered to himself as she turned the corner into the main road, —
"I'm mighty sorry she's bent on anything of the kind, for I'm certain there'll be trouble for me come out of it."
Fortunately nothing occurred to cause alarm during the little woman's absence.
Jack amused the baby, split more kindlings and piled them up in the shed, being thus occupied when Aunt Nancy returned, looking mildly triumphant.
"There!" she said in a tone of satisfaction as she seated herself beneath the old oak and fanned her heated face with a tiny pocket-handkerchief, "I did control my temper, and I don't think the Dean boy will trouble either of us again."
"Did you tell his father?"
"I gave him a full account of all which had been done, both this summer and last. Mr. Dean has promised me nothing of the kind shall ever happen again, and we are free from that annoyance."
Jack thought, but did not venture to put it into words, that Bill Dean would not give up the struggle so easily, and felt convinced there was yet more serious trouble in store for him before the summer came to an end.
"Do you know, Jack dear, I would give almost anything in the world if I hadn't told a lie to Mr. Pratt. We should have stood our ground, and defied him to take you and the baby away, rather than commit a sin."
"But I can't see that you were so very wicked, Aunt Nancy. He would have carried us off in spite of anything you could say, an' I'm sure you didn't tell a lie."
"It is on my conscience just the same, Jack dear, and I shall never feel easy in mind," the little woman replied with a long-drawn sigh.
Jack was really distressed because Aunt Nancy should regret so deeply what was done in his behalf; but he could think of nothing consoling to say, since she insisted on believing a downright falsehood had been told.
"I am also to be condemned for having given way to my temper; but those boys do try it so severely it is very difficult to remember that he who 'rules his spirit is better than he who taketh a city.'"
Jack looked up in bewilderment.
He did not understand the application of the quotation, and the remark about taking a city mystified him.
Aunt Nancy was so intent on her own sad thoughts that she paid no attention to his perplexity, and after a long silence entered the house, returning a few moments later in her home costume, which the boy thought more becoming than the antiquated finery she had been arrayed in for the call on Bill Dean's father.
The little woman did not give Jack the details of her visit to Mr. Dean; but he felt more confident than ever that it was an ill-advised move, so far as his own peace was concerned, and but a little time was to elapse before this was to be proven.
"I believe I will send a line to Brother Abner now," Aunt Nancy suddenly said. "It is time he learned what has happened; and since we have no pressing work on hand, you can mind the baby. It isn't as easy for me to write letters as it used to be. I need a long while in which to compose my thoughts."
Then the little woman set about the task, and it could be seen it was a hard one by the manner in which she began.
Watching through the open window, Jack saw her bring pens, paper, and ink from her chamber to the kitchen, and then nibble at the end of her penholder as if to derive inspiration from that source.
Had it been some weighty document of state she could not have been more particular, and fully two hours were spent before the labor was completed.
"Took me a long while, didn't it?" she asked on coming into the yard once more. "I believe I've told Abner the whole story, and we'll soon know if the baby's parents are yet alive."
"Shall I carry it to the post-office?"
"Mercy! no. It is in Treat's store, and I couldn't think of letting you take that long walk again to-day."
"It won't hurt me a bit."
"You must stay here quietly with me, and to-morrow perhaps you shall go. There is plenty of time, and who knows if Abner is home now; he's a master hand at gadding about, which accounts for his being so poor. I've always told him that 'a rolling stone gathers no moss,' but he laughs it off by saying he doesn't want to be moss-grown."
Chapter X
SICKNESS
Now that the important letter had been written, Aunt Nancy was in no hurry to mail it.
She acted very much as if believing the children would be lost to her immediately after Abner learned the news, and it was simply a case of "deferring the evil day."
During the afternoon Jack further endeared himself to the little woman's heart by patching up the door of the shed in such a manner that it could not be opened readily, and fastening it with an old padlock he found in the barn.
"That is just what I have been wanting for a long time," Aunt Nancy exclaimed in surprise when he called her to see the result of his labors. "How strange I can't do that as well as you!"
"That's because you're a woman," Jack replied, not a little delighted with the praise bestowed upon him.
"It may be; but I'm so very much older, it seems as if I should be able to do such things properly, and yet I can't even drive a nail."
"There'll be no need of your doin' it while I'm 'round."
"And I hope you and Louis will stay a long time; but I suppose it isn't right to say so, for although there isn't any chance his mother can be alive after the ship exploded, he has probably relatives who want to see him."
During the remainder of the day, Jack assisted the little woman with the housework, and at sunset the two sat in the favorite place under the old oak, until Louis became unusually fretful.
After trying in vain to soothe him, Aunt Nancy insisted they should retire, saying as she went toward the house, —
"I am afraid he doesn't feel very well. Are you sure he didn't play in the sun while I was away?"
"I kept him in the shade as much as I could. Do you think he can be sick?"
"Not enough for us to worry about, Jack dear. Children are apt to fuss when everything don't go just right. After I undress him, we'll read the Book, and then you shall go to bed."
The fact that Louis was not in his usual good spirits and temper worried Jack considerably, despite the little woman's cheery words, and when he went to his tiny room it was impossible for him to sleep immediately.
He had lain awake fully two hours, at times speculating as to how he and the baby would finally get to New York, and again wondering if it could be possible that both Captain and Mrs. Littlefield were dead, when the stairway door was opened, as Aunt Nancy whispered cautiously, —
"Jack! Jack dear! Are you awake?"
The boy was on his feet in an instant.
"What's the matter? Is Louis worse?"
"He seems to be quite sick. Will you dress and come down?"
Jack answered this summons very quickly as he tried to keep back the dry sob which came into his throat, for it seemed as if the greatest misfortune which could befall him would be to lose the baby at the time when he was in such a good home.
He found Aunt Nancy in the kitchen with Louis in her arms.
A fire had been built in the stove, and the little woman was seated in front of it rocking the baby as she stirred the boiling contents of a tin kettle.
"Do you know what catnip is when you see it growing?" she asked as Jack entered the room.
"I don't; but if you'll tell me where to go, I'll hunt for it."
"Light the lantern, so there won't be any mistake, and run out to the lane. You'll find some growing along the fence. Get as much as will fill this kettle, and come back as soon as you can."
"Is he very bad?" Jack asked in a trembling voice as he gazed at the baby's flushed cheeks.
"I never have had much experience with children, but I guess a little catnip tea will bring him around all right by morning."
"Hadn't we better have a doctor?"
"There is no need yet, and, besides, there isn't one within six miles."
"It don't make any difference how far it is, I'm willin' to walk any distance for him."
"We will first see what the morning brings forth."
Jack delayed no longer.
The lantern was lighted, and he started at once in search of an herb he did not even know by sight.
Ten minutes later he returned with an armful of green leaves, and Aunt Nancy bestowed but one hasty glance upon them when she cried, —
"O Jack, Jack, you've spent your time gathering burdocks! If you can hold the baby, I'll go after it myself."
"I'd rather try ag'in than have you go out where the grass is wet with dew."
"It won't hurt me. Take Louis"; and the little woman put the baby in Jack's arms as she hurried away, lantern in hand.
It seemed to Jack as if she had but left the house before she returned with the desired herb, and the boy said in surprise, —
"Is that what you call catnip? I saw plenty of it, but didn't think the leaves were big enough to do any good."
"In this world it isn't the big things which are capable of working the most benefit, Jack."
"If I hadn't known that before, I should after seeing you, Aunt Nancy. You're small, but there couldn't be anybody gooder."
Although the little woman said nothing, it could readily be seen that the compliment pleased her.
She bustled around much like a busy sparrow, putting the herbs in the kettle, making sundry mysterious decoctions, and otherwise preparing such things as she thought might be of benefit to the baby.
Jack held Louis meanwhile, and before Aunt Nancy was ready to take him again he asked in a low tone, —
"Do you think there is any chance he would die?"
"I don't believe he is in any danger now, Jack dear; but all of us should think of death as something which will come sooner or later."
The boy was silent for a moment, and then he asked abruptly, —
"You pray for everything you want, why don't you do it now so he'll be sure to live?"
"It wouldn't be right to ask God simply for the child's life."
"Why not?"
"Because He doeth all things well, and we do not know what His purpose may be."
"But there can't be any good come of takin' Louis away from me, when he's all I've got."
"That is something you don't know, Jack dear. What God does is right, and we must bow to His will."
Aunt Nancy spoke in such a solemn tone, or, as Jack afterward expressed it, "like as if she was in meetin'," that the boy could say no more, but watched intently every move the little woman made until she was ready to take the baby in her arms once more.
This night was a long one to both, for neither thought of going to sleep.
Once Aunt Nancy insisted Jack should lie down; but he pleaded so hard to be allowed to remain awake, that she said no more, and the two sat with Louis until daybreak.
During this long time neither spoke until the baby had fallen asleep, and Jack was on the point of going out to milk the cow, when the little woman said in a tone very like that of fear, —
"Wouldn't it be a dreadful thing if I should be punished for telling a lie to Mr. Pratt, by losing Louis just now when we are living so comfortably?"
"But you didn't tell a lie," Jack replied just a trifle impatiently.
"Both you and I know I did, however much we may try to persuade ourselves that it isn't so, and I am certain some punishment will follow."
Jack shook his head incredulously.
He began to understand that it would be useless to attempt to convince Aunt Nancy she had not committed a grievous sin, and was disposed to lose faith in a religion which would condemn so good a woman for having saved himself and the baby from much trouble.
To avoid paining her by saying what was in his mind, he went out to milk, and on returning found the baby sleeping naturally.
"He seems much relieved," Aunt Nancy said as she put him to bed. "He will probably sleep a long while, and you had better get some rest."
Jack insisted that he did not need any, and continued doing such chores as he could find around the house until breakfast was ready, after which he proposed going to the post-office.
"Now the letter is written it had better be mailed, an' perhaps there are some things you want from the store."
"I do need a few notions; but it seems too bad to have you walk so far this hot morning."
"It'll do me good. I can be back by noon, and the weather won't be very warm while I'm goin' over."
Aunt Nancy allowed herself to be persuaded, because there really were some groceries she wanted, and after making out a list with infinite care, cautioning him not to pay more than five cents a pound for the coarse sugar and eighty cents for the tea, she gave him a lunch to be eaten during the return journey.
"I don't want you to stay any longer than is necessary; but at the same time you mustn't hurry too fast," she said, as he walked rapidly down the lane; and Jack replied, —
"I'll be back by noon, unless something terrible happens."
Although the hunchback could not move as fast as more favored boys, he "kept at it," to use his favorite expression, and by this means was able to get over the ground with reasonable rapidity.
He was travelling steadily on, thinking of the baby and Aunt Nancy's apparently needless sorrow at having acted a lie during Mr. Pratt's call, when he was aroused to a sense of what was passing around him by hearing the disagreeably familiar voice of Bill Dean, as he shouted, —
"Hold on there a minute, I want to see you."
Bill was coming across the fields at full speed, and, knowing he could not escape if the bully should pursue him, Jack halted.
"So you're tryin' to hide behind Aunt Nancy's apron strings, eh?" Master Dean cried as he reached the road.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, yes, you do. Didn't you send her over to tell my father that I was goin' to drive you out of town, an' didn't she let on about the lickin' we give you?"
"That was her business. I tried to stop her, for I can 'tend to my own battles."
"Perhaps you can; we'll see about that later. Say, what of that man who was over here huntin' for you?"
Jack's cheeks grew pale.
He understood to whom Bill referred, and it seemed positive the whole story would be known, despite the sacrifice made by Aunt Nancy.
"Haven't got anything to say, eh? Well, I'm goin' to see him, an' tell where you are, then we'll see how you like tattlers."
Jack was frightened beyond the power of speech.
He had no idea but that his enemy knew exactly where to find Mr. Pratt, and firmly believed the time was near at hand when he and Louis would be forcibly taken away from Aunt Nancy's kindly care.
"That don't seem to strike you very well!" Bill cried with a laugh of triumph. "We'll have this thing fixed up in short order, an' then I reckon old Nancy will be ready to hire boys who know their business."
"What makes you jump down on me?" Jack asked piteously.
"You know mighty well. We told you what to do, an' you thought we didn't mean business. Now you'll soon find out."
Jack hadn't the heart to hold any further conversation with his tormentor.
His only thought was to hurry on that he might be alone where the matter could be calmly discussed in his own mind, and walked swiftly away, followed by Bill's jeering words.
Now indeed he had a cup running over with sorrow. If his enemies knew of Mr. Pratt, it would not be long before that gentleman learned of his whereabouts, and it surely seemed as if the time had finally come when he must start out on the long journey, leaving behind the dearest friend he had ever met since the day when his mother crossed the dark river.
"There's no help for it," he said resolutely, "an' I've got to look at this thing right. Bill will tell the farmer right away, an' the sooner we leave the farther we'll be off when they come to find us."
Thus the matter was settled in his mind that the flight should be resumed at the earliest moment it might be safe to take Louis out of doors.
