Kitabı oku: «Jack the Hunchback: A Story of Adventure on the Coast of Maine», sayfa 6
Chapter XI
GARDENING
It can readily be supposed Jack was not inclined to linger on the road after this interview with Bill Dean.
That the latter would inform Farmer Pratt of his whereabouts he had no doubt, and this was a method of driving him "out of town" for which he was not prepared.
Walking at full speed, running over the descending ground, and trying to keep on at a good pace when he ascended hills, the journey to Treat's store was accomplished in a remarkably short time.
He found many customers before him, however, and was obliged to wait until it should be his turn, although he felt quite certain every moment was precious.
It was the proprietor of the establishment, who also acted as postmaster, that waited upon him, and while weighing out the "notions" Aunt Nancy had sent for, the gentleman said, as if answering his own question, —
"So you've been hired by Aunt Nancy."
"I'm stayin' there a little while, sir."
"You are, eh? Where do you hail from?"
Jack hesitated an instant, and then replied with a forced laugh, —
"I s'pose I oughter say I belong to the farm, 'cause I haven't any other home."
"An orphan, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where did your folks useter live?"
Jack was not aware that Mr. Treat had the name of being the most inveterate gossip in the neighborhood; but felt positive there was no good reason why he should satisfy his curiosity on this point, more particularly since, in view of Bill Dean's threats, he wished to keep as a secret everything concerning himself, therefore said with an assumption of carelessness, —
"Almost anywhere. You see I was brought up to be a sailor."
"Sho! Is that so? Well now I wouldn't think you'd make much of a fist shinnin' 'round on the riggin'."
"Even if I am crooked I might be as spry as other fellers."
"That's a fact; but you don't look it"; and then the worthy Mr. Treat turned his attention to the list Aunt Nancy had written for Jack's guidance.
When the goods had been made ready the proprietor of the store would have questioned the messenger further, but the latter hurried away without replying to what he did not consider it was necessary strangers should know.
Jack arrived at the farm unusually early, and Aunt Nancy exclaimed as he came up the lane looking heated and breathless, —
"Well, I declare! It does beat all how you can get over the ground! Why, I've known it to take Daniel Chick's horse a good bit longer to go to the post-office and back."
"I was in a hurry to talk with you, an' so come as quick as I could, for I'm afraid Louis an' I must go away, even after all that's been done."
The little woman looked up quickly in mingled alarm and surprise.
"Why, what has happened, Jack dear?"
For reply the boy repeated that which Bill Dean had said, and added in conclusion, —
"You see Mr. Pratt will be over here the minute he hears the news, an' then everything is settled the wrong way."
"Are you certain Bill Dean knows where he lives?"
"Of course he must, else he wouldn't have said what he did."
"I'm sorry to have to doubt his word; but I couldn't put the least dependence in a thing he says, and there are more than me in this town of the same opinion. Besides, he is too indolent to walk so far."
"Still there's a chance he might send some word."
"You are right, Jack; but at the same time I wouldn't borrow trouble. In case that man should come, you can find some way of keeping out of his clutches until I see the 'Squire."
"What good would that do?"
"I don't know; but it does seem as if we might prevent him from carrying you and the baby away when I'm not only willing but anxious to have you both stay with me. I don't believe there is any law to compel children who have a good home to go to a poorhouse, and if there is the least bit more bother I'm going to have the matter settled once and for all in the 'Squire's court."
Aunt Nancy spoke in such a decided tone, and seemed so thoroughly convinced there was a legal remedy for the trouble, that Jack felt relieved at once.
"I could get out of his way, no matter how close he got to me; but there's the baby. It might be I was where I couldn't find Louis quick enough when the farmer came, an' then he'd soon drag him away."
"The baby will be with me, and I promise you there'll be no dragging when I'm around," the little woman said with considerable dignity. "Keep up your courage, and I'm sure we shall come out all right, except for that miserable action of mine yesterday. If I had told the truth then and defied him, things would seem a great deal smoother now."
"Then I'll hold on a while longer."
"Certainly, and in the future stay close around the house, so those terrible boys can't make mischief. Did you ever do any gardening, Jack?"
"Do you mean plantin' seeds an' makin' 'em grow?"
"I mean cultivating the ground. No one can force the seeds to grow but He who rules over all. I would dearly love to have a few string beans and some cabbages, but it's so expensive hiring the land ploughed that I haven't been able to afford it."
"I could dig up a good deal with a shovel."
"If you'll try it I will get the seeds, and perhaps we shall have the pleasure of harvesting our own crops."
Jack was so relieved in mind that he did not feel any fatigue because of the long walk, and insisted on beginning work in the garden at once.
Despite all Aunt Nancy could say against it, he labored industriously with the shovel during the next two hours, and at the end of that time as much ground had been prepared as the little woman thought necessary.
"It won't do to try too much at first," she said musingly, as, with Louis in her arms, she watched the deformed boy make ready the small plot between the woodshed and barn. "I'll see about the seeds to-morrow, and it does seem as if we might put in more than cabbages and beans now that we've got so much room. I didn't suppose you would care to dig up very much."
"It isn't such hard work but that I'd be willin' to make one twice this size; as it is, I reckon you can plant pretty nearly all you want."
Then Aunt Nancy, looking very grave as if the task was one of the greatest importance, measured the plot into rows, putting in little bits of wood to mark where each kind of seed should be planted, and when it was finished she looked thoroughly happy.
"We shall have a famous garden, Jack dear, and it won't be necessary for me to spend so much money for vegetables when the summer boarders come. They always wonder why I don't raise my own green stuff."
The garden and the plans concerning it gave both so much pleasure that, for the time being at least, Farmer Pratt was almost forgotten.
The chores occupied Jack's time during the remainder of the day, and when he retired it was to fall asleep almost immediately because of fatigue.
Early next morning Aunt Nancy visited one of the neighbors to procure seeds, and when another night came every row was planted.
During the three succeeding days Jack remained near the house, never going farther away than the main road, where he spent his spare time watching for Farmer Pratt.
It surely seemed as if Bill Dean was ignorant of the gentleman's address, or, as Aunt Nancy had suggested, was too indolent to make the journey to Scarborough, for nothing was seen or heard of Tom's father, and Jack began to feel a certain sense of security.
Louis was as contented as a child well could be, and each day claimed more of the little woman's affections until she actually began to look forward with dismay to the coming of the summer boarders, because then she could not devote to him so much of her time.
Never once was the nightly search for burglars omitted; and when Jack asked why such a labor was necessary when it was positive no one could enter the house during the day without her knowledge, she replied with an ominous shake of the head, —
"We can't say, Jack dear, what might happen. I have done this same thing for the last fifteen years, and don't intend to be careless now in my old age."
"But you never found anybody, did you?"
"No, and I hope I never shall; but it would be impossible to sleep if I neglected what seems like a solemn duty."
On the fourth day after the garden was planted both Jack and Aunt Nancy visited it twice to see if the seeds had sprouted, and several times did the sight of a weed cause them the greatest joy for a few moments, since it seemed certain something in the vegetable line had shown itself.
Like Farmer Pratt, Bill Dean remained out of sight, and the little woman was confident she had frightened him away.
"We can count on being left alone this summer, Jack dear, for he won't show his head around here. In all the years I have lived on the farm, when I went to his father was the first time I ever made a complaint to a neighbor, and I hope it will be the last, for I do think people should avoid troubling others with such things. We are told that we must forgive our brother seventy times seven; but there was no use in doing that by William, since it made no difference to him whether he was forgiven or not."
Jack was not so confident that those who threatened to drive him away had relinquished their purpose; but he said nothing regarding his fears, since no good could come of alarming the little woman. The day on which the first cabbage showed two tiny leaves above the surface was a red-letter day for the amateur gardeners.
Aunt Nancy spent at least two hours admiring it, and the seat under the big oak was abandoned at sunset in order that she might search for further proofs of their success.
"There is so much pleasure in having a garden that I shall never again be without one, that is," she added with a sigh, "if I have you with me. I can't bear to think that the time may come when we must part."
"May come? Why, it must come, Aunt Nancy. Just as soon as the weather gets cool, we are bound to start."
"I have been thinking perhaps Louis hasn't any relatives living, and in that case what would prevent you and he from staying here until I go down into the valley of the shadow of death?"
"Nothing would suit me better," Jack replied emphatically. "This is the first home I have ever known, and it will be hard to leave it."
"If you do go, Jack dear, it will be a lonely old woman you leave behind. I had gotten accustomed to living alone; but now it is different, and the house would seem deserted without you and the baby. Yet I am afraid something of the kind must happen to punish me for telling Mr. Pratt a lie. It is through a crime that I was enabled to enjoy your company, and we know what are the wages of sin."
Jack was not disposed to allow the conversation to continue in this channel.
He could not bring himself to believe the little woman had done anything wrong in letting Farmer Pratt think he and Louis were not there, and it made him impatient to hear her blame herself so severely.
"You see, Aunt Nancy, we would have to leave whether you done as you did or not, for how can we tell whether Capt. Littlefield or his wife are alive unless we go to find out?"
"Oh, Abner will attend to all that! He lived in York State so long that he knows nearly every one in it by this time, and when we hear from him the whole story must be known, for interesting himself in other people's affairs is what exactly suits Abner."
Jack could not be satisfied with this reply.
He believed implicitly everything Aunt Nancy told him, and she was so positive that there appeared to be no chance for doubt.
The little woman was called from the contemplation of the garden by that which, for a moment, caused Jack the greatest alarm.
The rattle of wheels was heard from the road, and an instant later Aunt Nancy said in surprise, —
"Mercy on us! who can that be driving up the lane?"
"It is the farmer comin' for us!" Jack cried excitedly as he caught Louis from Aunt Nancy's arms, and would have run off at full speed if she had not restrained him.
"Wait a moment, my child. I don't see any man in the wagon."
Jack looked quickly in the direction of the newcomers and then said, —
"There are two women, but one of them may be Mrs. Pratt."
Again he would have sought refuge in flight but for Aunt Nancy's detaining hand.
"It is only Mrs. Hayes and Mrs. Souders. I suppose they have come to make a call, and what will they think at seeing the house in such confusion?"
Jack, now that his fears were allayed, could not repress a smile at the idea of Aunt Nancy's house ever being in anything save a cleanly and orderly condition; but the little woman appeared really distressed because she had not had an opportunity to inspect it thoroughly before receiving company.
"Take care of Louis, and stay under the oak-tree until I come out again," she said, hurrying away to receive the newcomers.
Jack loitered near the barn where he would not be seen until the visitors had alighted, tied securely the aged horse, whose only ambition appeared to be to remain motionless, and entered the house.
Then, instead of doing as Aunt Nancy had suggested, he took Louis into the woodshed, amusing him there for nearly an hour, when the two ladies departed.
"Where are you, Jack?" the little woman called softly when the horse had drawn the wagon and its occupants on to the highway.
"What is the matter?" Jack cried, as on emerging from his place of retreat he saw a look of deepest anxiety on Aunt Nancy's face. "Did they come here to take us away?"
"It's not quite as bad as that," the little woman replied with a long-drawn sigh, "but very nearly. What do you suppose they wanted?"
Jack didn't even attempt to hazard a guess, and Aunt Nancy continued in a mournful tone, —
"They want to hold the monthly sewing circle here day after to-morrow!"
"Well?" Jack asked, surprised that such a request should have caused so much distress.
"Well? Why, Jack, how can you treat it so lightly? Just think of it! Only one day to clean house, go to the store, and do all the cooking!"
"I don't see that there'll be very much to do in the way of cleaning house. It shines like a new three-cent piece already, and how are you goin' to make it look any better?"
"O Jack! boys don't understand about such things. You can't see in the corners where the dirt always lodges, and the company will be sure to find everything that is slighted."
"Well, I can go to the store for you at least."
"I wouldn't allow you to take the chances of seeing William Dean even if you could do the errands, which is impossible. I must get Mr. Chick to carry me over in his team, and while I am away you and Louis are to stay in the house with the doors locked."
"I don't think there is any need of that. Those fellers wouldn't dare to come here."
"I can't believe they would; but at the same time it will do no harm to be careful. Now what shall we have for supper?"
"Do you mean to-night?"
"Of course not. It doesn't make any difference what we eat for a day or two; but we must think very seriously of what is to be cooked for the circle."
"Have some of your nice biscuits and a piece of cake. If folks can get anything better than that, they deserve to go hungry."
"O Jack! you don't understand such things. I should be mortified almost to death if I didn't do as well as Mrs. Souders did when the circle met at her house last month."
Then Aunt Nancy, looking as if a heavy burden of care had suddenly fallen upon her, went in to the kitchen, taking Louis with her, that Jack might be free to milk the cow.
Chapter XII
LOUIS'S ADVENTURE
On this evening, immediately after supper had been eaten and the dishes washed, Aunt Nancy announced that it would be necessary for her to call upon Mr. Daniel Chick.
"If I wait until morning his team may not be at home, and, besides, I want him to be ready to make an early start. We must be back by noon at the latest."
"Why not let me go and tell him what you want?" Jack asked.
"Because you don't know where he lives, and then again it is necessary to pass Mr. Dean's in order to reach his house. William might be at home, and who knows what would happen?"
Then Aunt Nancy made a hurried toilet, clothing herself in one of those quaint costumes which Jack did not think at all becoming, and said, as she entered the kitchen again, —
"You must promise not to step your foot out of doors while I am gone. Keep everything well locked, and if any one should happen to call don't show yourself without first learning who they are."
Jack agreed, and while the little woman was absent he rocked Louis to sleep, swept the floor until one would have said a broom ought to be ashamed for going over such a cleanly surface with any idea of collecting dirt, and was in the "fore-room" with a lighted candle admiring the crockery rooster when Aunt Nancy returned.
"It's me, Jack dear!" she cried as she knocked softly on the door, and when it was opened, entered with the air of one who has been successful.
"I got there just in time. He was going over to Henry Mitchell's to tell him he'd haul gravel to-morrow; but of course he had rather go to Treat's, for the work isn't so hard on either himself or his horse. Now we must get to bed early, for I told him I wanted to start by sunrise at the very latest."
"But, Aunt Nancy, you don't mean that I am to stay in the house with the doors locked all the forenoon, do you? There are lots of things I could do; but it would be pretty warm if there wasn't any chance for air."
"I suppose you might have the doors open, provided you kept a sharp watch on the road, and closed them again in case that Dean boy or his associates should come," the little woman replied thoughtfully.
"What shall I do?"
"You could clean the knives and forks, and wash all the best dishes through two waters. Be careful when you wipe them, Jack dear, for it would be terrible if any should be broken."
After these arrangements had been made, Aunt Nancy remained silent a short time to free her mind from worldly thoughts, and then came the evening devotions, when the little woman prayed earnestly for the "weary and heavy laden," which Jack thought was a reference to herself and the expected company.
It was yet dark next morning when a noise from the kitchen aroused the hunchback, and hurrying down he found Aunt Nancy busily engaged preparing breakfast.
"Why, you must have stayed awake all night!" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Indeed I wasn't so foolish as to do anything of the kind; but when I have work on hand I like to be about it, and goodness knows there's plenty for me to do between now and to-morrow night."
"Did you wake Louis?"
"No; let him sleep as long as he chooses. You can dress and give him some bread and milk?"
"That part of it will be all right," Jack replied confidently, and then he prepared to astonish old crumple-horn by appearing before her while it was yet so dark that she could hardly see the lunch of clover to which she was accustomed during milking time.
Breakfast had been cooked, eaten, and the dishes washed before Mr. Daniel Chick and his venerable horse came up the lane.
Aunt Nancy was not only ready for the journey, but had begun to grow impatient because of the delay, when he reined up in front of the broad stone step as he said in a cheery tone, calculated to soothe any angry feelings, —
"Well, I must say you're a master hand at gettin' up, Aunt Nancy. 'Pears like as if you was allers on foot like a sparrer."
"I try to do what I have on hand in good season," was the rather sharp reply. "There would be less poor folks in this world if people didn't dally round in such a shiftless manner."
Mr. Chick knew full well that this remark was aimed especially at him; but like a wise man he made no reply lest worse should follow, and turned the wheels of the wagon that the little woman might have no trouble in clambering on board.
Aunt Nancy stopped only long enough to give some parting advice to Jack.
"Be sure to keep a sharp watch on the road if you have the doors open," she whispered, "and don't go out, even into the yard, unless it is absolutely necessary, for nobody knows what may happen. When you wash the best dishes be careful, Jack dear, for I should feel very badly in case any were broken."
"I'll attend to it in great shape, Aunt Nancy."
"Don't give Louis too much milk at a time, the weather is so hot that it might curdle on his stomach; and if I don't succeed in getting home until afternoon, there is some cold meat and cake on the hanging shelf in the cellar. Don't go without a lunch; it is very unhealthy to work while you are hungry."
"Who's dallying now, Aunt Nancy?" Mr. Chick cried as he tried to prevent his horse from nibbling at the honeysuckle-bush.
"If you had come as you agreed I should have had plenty of time to attend to matters," was the sharp reply; and then with many injunctions for him to keep a firm hold on the reins, the little woman succeeded in gaining the rather shaky seat.
"Take good care of Louis!" she cried as the horse ambled slowly down the lane; and Jack re-entered the house feeling decidedly lonely at the prospect of being without Aunt Nancy for several hours.
In order to occupy his mind he set about the work laid out, and was so industrious that before the baby made known the fact of being awake, the knives and forks had been cleaned.
Fully an hour was spent dressing and feeding Louis, after which he was allowed to play on the kitchen floor while his crooked guardian washed the "best dishes."
This was a task which required considerable time, and at eleven o'clock it was hardly more than half finished.
Then again Louis wanted milk, and when it had been given him he insisted upon being allowed to go out on the doorstep.
At first Jack was disposed to keep him in the house; but when he became fretful, gave him his own way, as he said half to himself, —
"I don't s'pose there can be any harm in lettin' you stay here; but if anything should happen, Aunt Nancy would think I had been careless."
After that he kept a strict watch over the baby, going to the door every few moments, and on each occasion finding Louis playing contentedly with a string of buttons the little woman had prepared for him.
The fact that he showed no disposition to leave the broad stone caused Jack to have less care than usual, and this, coupled with the idea of cleaning the most elaborate dishes, rendered him oblivious to the flight of time.
He was brought to a realization of what was passing around by hearing the rumble of a carriage in the lane, and almost before he could reach the door, Aunt Nancy was in the house, while Mr. Chick had driven away at the full speed of his very slow horse.
"Did you get along all right, Jack dear?" the little woman asked, as she deposited an armful of bundles on the table.
"Yes, indeed. You see there has been plenty of work, and it doesn't seem any time since you left."
"Where is the baby?"
"On the doorstep. He fussed to go out, an' I thought the fresh air wouldn't do him any harm."
"Which doorstep?"
"Why here, of course"; and Jack stepped forward only to give vent to a cry of alarm an instant later. "He isn't here at all! Where do you suppose he could have gone?"
Aunt Nancy was at the door before he ceased speaking, and gazed up and down the yard in bewilderment, but without seeing any signs of the missing baby.
For an instant the two stood gazing at each other in perplexity, and then Aunt Nancy asked sharply, —
"How long since you saw him?"
"It didn't seem many minutes before you came; but I s'pose it must have been, else he'd be 'round here now."
"Run up to the barn and see if he is there!"
As she spoke the little woman went down the lane, returning just as Jack came back.
"He isn't there," the latter said.
"Nor on the road. Of course he must be somewhere near, for children can't disappear entirely in such a mysterious fashion. Go up the lane and I'll look back of the barn."
"But then we shall be leaving the barn alone You stay here an' I'll do the searchin'."
"It wouldn't make any difference if we left the house wide open for a month, I couldn't stand still while that dear little baby is wandering around nobody knows where."
Jack understood that it would be useless to remonstrate, and started off at full speed.
Up to the entire length of the lane he ran without finding that for which he sought, and then back to the house where he was met by Aunt Nancy on whose wrinkled face was written fear and anguish.
She did not wait for him to tell her that the search had been in vain, but cried, —
"Go up through the field from the shed. There is a place where he might have gotten through the fence, and it would lead directly to the duck pond if he kept on in a straight line!"
There was a tone in her voice which told of the fear she had regarding the possible ending of his adventures; and Jack, with a mental prayer that he would find the little fellow before it was too late, ran across the enclosure, Aunt Nancy going in the same direction, but at a slight angle.
The little woman's anxiety gave fleetness to her feet, and she travelled even faster than Jack could.
Both called loudly from time to time, but without receiving any answer, and Jack's heart grew heavy as he thought of what might have happened while he was in the house all unconscious of impending trouble.
As the two neared the pond the figure of a boy could be distinguished among the foliage of alders running at full speed toward the main road, and Jack shouted to Aunt Nancy, —
"There goes one of Bill Dean's gang. They know where Louis is."
This caused the little woman to redouble her cries, and a few seconds later two more boys could be dimly seen as they hurried away, keeping well within the shelter of the bushes to avoid recognition.
There was no longer any question in Jack's mind but that he would soon find the baby, nor was he mistaken.
On arriving in view of the pond both saw a rudely constructed raft of fence rails at least ten yards from the shore, and on it, crowing and laughing as if he was having the jolliest possible time sat Louis.
"How can we reach him?" Aunt Nancy cried, as she stood wringing her hands, while the big tears ran down her cheeks. "He will surely be drowned, Jack! What is to be done?"
The hunchback had no thought of his own safety or discomfort as compared with that of rescuing the baby.
Without hesitation he ran into the pond, continuing on at risk of being mired, until the water was above his waist, and the baby held out his hands to be taken.
"Sit still Louis, sit still an' Jack will come to you!"
It was impossible to run very fast through the water; and to Aunt Nancy, who stood on the bank in helpless grief, it seemed as if the deformed lad hardly moved, so slow was his progress.
More than once did it appear as if the baby would attempt to leave the raft in order to meet his crooked guardian; but by dint of coaxing, Jack succeeded in persuading him to remain seated until he gained his side.
Then he lifted the child in his arms, staggering ashore to where the little woman stood waiting to receive him, and the rescue was accomplished.
Aunt Nancy alternately laughed and cried as she pressed Louis closely to her bosom, and Jack stood silently by, wondering whether he was to be scolded for having so grossly neglected his charge.
It was several moments before she paid any attention to the older boy, and then it was to exclaim, —
"Mercy on us, Jack! I had entirely forgotten you! Run home as soon as possible, or you will catch your death a cold!"
"A wettin' won't hurt me on a warm day like this. I'm used to such things."
"But you must change your clothes at once, and there's no other way but to put on one of my dresses again."
Jack gave no heed to this suggestion, or command, whichever it might be called. He was trying to understand how the baby could have come so far without assistance, when Aunt Nancy said suddenly, —
"It doesn't take one loner to realize how the dear little fellow came here. Those wicked boys must have found him near the shed, and brought him to this place."
Several poles lying near by told how the raft was forced toward the centre of the pond, and the fact that three fellows had been seen running through the bushes was sufficient proof, at least to Aunt Nancy and Jack, that Bill Dean and his friends had done the mischief.
"I should forget everything I ought to remember if I had that Dean boy here this minute!" the little woman said angrily as she surveyed the evidences of the cruel work. "It is a burning shame that such as he should be allowed among decent people!"
"We don't know for certain that it was Bill Dean," Jack suggested.
"Yes, we do, for there is no other boy in this town who does such things. I shall see his father again, and when I do it will be very hard work to rule my spirit."
"It only makes them worse to complain."
"Then I will have him arrested!" And now Aunt Nancy spoke in such an angry tone that Jack did not venture to reply; but he knew from past experience that she would soon be sorry for having given way to her temper.
Again the little woman spoke of Jack's condition as if she had not noticed it before, and insisted on his coming home at once, although she could not have supposed he wished to go anywhere else.
Louis apparently had no idea he had been exposed to danger, but laughed and pulled at the tiny ringlets either side Aunt Nancy's face until her anger vanished, and she said in a tone of penitence, —
"Really, Jack dear, I get frightened sometimes when I realize how wicked I am growing. I can't seem to control my temper in anything which concerns the baby, and goodness knows how it is all going to end. I began by telling a lie, and now say terrible things on the slightest provocation, though goodness knows this would have stirred up almost any one. You see I took the first step, which is the hardest, and now fall before the least temptation."
"You oughtent talk that way, Aunt Nancy. If everybody was as good as you are, this would be an awful nice place to live in."
The little woman shook her head as if reproaching him for his words of praise, but did not continue the subject, because by this time they had arrived at the house, and it was necessary she should get the garments Jack had worn once before.
