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THE ADVENTUROUS SEVEN
* * * * * *
By BESSIE MARCHANT
THE YOUNGEST SISTER: A Tale of Manitoba. 5s.
A PRINCESS OF SERVIA: A Story of To-day. 3s. 6d.
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A COUNTESS FROM CANADA: A Story of Life in the Backwoods. 5s.
DAUGHTERS OF THE DOMINION: A Story of the Canadian Frontier. 5s.
"Related with immense spirit."--_Globe_.
SISTERS OF SILVER CREEK: A Story of Western Canada. 5s.
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GRETA'S DOMAIN: A Tale of Chiloe. 3s. 6d.
"Few girls but will enjoy this exciting tale."--_Academy_.
THREE GIRLS IN MEXICO: A Story of Life in the Interior. 3s. 6d.
"The style is simple and direct, and the whole book
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NO ORDINARY GIRL: A Story of Central America. 3s. 6d.
"The conception of the story is fresh, and deserves
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A GIRL OF THE FORTUNATE ISLES: A Story of New Zealand. 3s. 6d.
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LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, LTD., 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
* * * * * *
[Illustration: "THE DOCTOR'S CANE CAME CUTTING THROUGH THE AIR"]
THE ADVENTUROUS SEVEN
Their Hazardous Undertaking
by
BESSIE MARCHANT
Author of "The Heroine of the Ranch" "The Loyalty of Hester Hope"
"A Princess of Servia" "The Youngest Sister" &c.
Illustrated by W. R. S. Stott
Blackie and Son Limited
London Glasgow and Bombay
Contents
Chap. Page
I. The Great Idea 9
II. The Deputation 18
III. The Emigrants 34
IV. Rumple's Discovery 49
V. The End of the Voyage 61
VI. A Real Friend 73
VII. The One-armed Man 88
VIII. The Start 102
IX. In a Strange Place 114
X. A Fright at Night 124
XI. Anxious Hours 136
XII. Repairing the Damage 148
XIII. In Sight of Hammerville 159
XIV. The Arrival 173
XV. A Great Shock 186
XVI. The Next Thing To Be Done 196
XVII. In the Thick of It 213
XVIII. "Father, We Want You!" 225
XIX. The News 243
XX. How It All Ended 252
THE ADVENTUROUS SEVEN
CHAPTER I
The Great Idea
The village schoolroom was packed as full as it would hold, and the air
was so thick that, as Sylvia said, it could almost be scooped up with a
spoon. The lecturer was stout and perspiring freely, but he meant to do
his duty at all costs, and he rose to the occasion with tremendous
vigour, declaiming in really fine style:
"It is a poor man's paradise, and there is no place on the face of this
earth to rival it. You reach it by a pleasure cruise across summer seas,
to find it has the finest scenery your eyes have ever beheld and a
climate that is not to be beaten."
"Hear, hear!" shouted Rumple, clapping vigorously. He had led the
applause from the very beginning of the lecture, only it was a little
awkward for the lecturer that he mostly broke into the middle of a
sentence instead of waiting for a pause, as a more judicious person
might have done.
"Encore!" yelled Billykins, forgetting for the moment that it was not a
concert, and, as the lecture had already lasted for upwards of an hour
and a half, it might have proved a little tedious to some of the
audience if it had been repeated from the very beginning.
The rows of people sitting in the seats behind broke into a wild uproar
of stamping, thumping, and clapping which lasted for nearly five
minutes, and, of course, raised more dust to thicken the atmosphere.
The pause gave the lecturer time to recover his breath and wipe some of
the perspiration from his face; it also made him rather cross, for he
had somehow got the idea that he was being laughed at, which was quite
wrong, because all seven of the Plumsteads, from Nealie down to Ducky,
thought that he was doing very well indeed.
"If you don't believe what I say," concluded the lecturer, "just come
out to New South Wales and see for yourselves if I have not told you the
plain, unvarnished truth; and I repeat what I have said before, that
although it is no place for the idle rich, for the man or the woman who
wants to work it is not to be beaten."
It was at this moment that Nealie leaned forward to whisper to Rupert,
who sat on the other side of Don and Billykins:
"Would it not be lovely for us all to go? Just think how we could help
dear Father, and he would not be lonely any more."
"Rather!" ejaculated Rupert, making a noise which was first cousin to a
whistle; then he passed the whisper on to Sylvia and Rumple, and that
was how the great idea started.
When the lecture was over they all crowded forward to speak to the
lecturer, explaining in a rather incoherent fashion the reason of their
keen interest in what he had been saying, and their hard and fast
intention to emigrate as soon as possible.
"Our father lives in New South Wales; but most likely you have met him,"
said Nealie, whose knowledge of Australian geography was rather vague,
and who supposed that, as the lecturer came from Sydney, he would most
probably know everyone who lived in the country known as New South
Wales.
"I can't remember him offhand, young lady, but perhaps if you tell me
his name I may recollect whether I have met him," said the lecturer,
smiling at her in a genial fashion.
"He is Dr. Plumstead, and he is very clever," said Nealie, giving her
head the proud little tilt which it always took on when she spoke of her
father. She was very much of a child, despite her nineteen years, and
she never seemed able to understand that her father was not at the top
of his profession.
"Father is very much like Rumple, only, of course, bigger," broke in
Billykins, who could never be reduced to silence for many minutes
together nor yet be thrust into the background.
But Rumple blushed furiously at being dragged into notice in such a way,
and, turning his head abruptly, gave the lecturer no chance of comparing
his face with those of possible acquaintances on the other side of the
world.
"Most likely I have met him. I see so many people, far too many to be
able to recall their names at will," said the lecturer; but then the
vicar came up to claim his attention and the seven could get no further
chance to talk to him.
They set off home then; and as it was so dark, and a drizzling rain was
falling, Nealie took Ducky on her back, while Sylvia and Rumple helped
Rupert, who was lame, leaving Don and Billykins to bring up the rear.
The nearest way was down through Boughlee Wood, but this route was not
to be thought of in the dark. It was not even wise to take the short cut
across Kennel Hill, so they tramped along the hard road, splashing
through the puddles and talking like a set of magpies about the
lecture, the lecturer, and their own determination to emigrate at once.
"No one wants us here, and there is nothing to do except get into
mischief," said Sylvia, with a sigh.
"Father will be glad to have us, of course, and we will make him so very
happy!" cried Nealie, and then Ducky leaned forward to kiss her on the
nose, hugging her so tightly that it was quite wonderful she was not
choked.
"But how are we to get to Australia?" panted Rupert, who was finding the
pace rather trying.
"We must ask Mr. Runciman to let us have the money," said Nealie. "I
should think that he would be glad to do it, for then he will get rid of
us, don't you see? And he is always grumbling about our being such a
dreadful expense."
"Mr. Runciman is horrid!" burst out Ducky, giving Nealie another hug. "I
just hate him when he says nasty things to you, Nealie."
"Of course we are an expense to him, especially when dear Father is not
able to send enough money to keep us, and we have all got such big
appetites," said Nealie, with a sigh.
"I am hungry now, dreadfully hungry," put in Billykins from the rear.
"Shall we go to see Mr. Runciman to-morrow?" asked Rumple.
"We can't manage to get back before dark, I am afraid, and Mrs. Puffin
makes such a fuss if we are out after dark; just as if anyone would want
to run away with the seven of us," returned Nealie in a scornful tone.
"We can go in the morning, for the vicar is going to a Diocesan
Conference, and he has given us a holiday. He told me about it
to-night," said Rupert.
"That will be lovely. Then we will have Aunt Judith's chair for you and
Ducky, it will be just a jolly jaunt for us; only we must be at The
Paddock early, to catch Mr. Runciman before he goes out," said Nealie.
"I would rather walk----" began Ducky, with a touch of petulance in her
voice, but Nealie stopped her quickly with a whisper:
"You must ride, darling, or Rupert won't have the chair, and a long walk
does take it out of him so badly you know."
"If we have the chair, Don and I will be the horses, and we will go down
Coombe Lane at a gallop," said Billykins, with a festive prance.
"That will be perfectly lovely, only Rupert will have to hold me tightly
or I shall be tossed out at the turn, and I might damage my nose again,"
replied Ducky, with a gleeful chuckle.
By this time they had reached Beechleigh, and turning short across the
green by the pond they tramped in at the gate of the funny little house
where their great-aunt, Miss Judith Webber, had lived and died, and
which was the only home they had known since Ducky was a tiny babe.
Mrs. Puffin, a lean little widow of mouldy aspect, opened the door to
let them in and exclaimed loudly to see how damp they were.
"Now you will all be catching colds, and I shall have to nurse you," she
said in a woebegone tone, as she felt them all round. "If you must go
out in the wet in this fashion, why can't you take umbrellas?"
"Because we haven't got them," answered Nealie, with a laugh. She mostly
laughed about their limitations, because it made them just a little
easier to bear. "The little boys had the last umbrella that we possess
to play at Bedouin tents with on Tuesday, and they had a sad accident
and broke three of its ribs, poor thing. But we shall not catch cold,
Mrs. Puffin, because we are all going straight to bed."
"But I am hungry," protested Billykins.
"I know, and so am I; but we will all have a big piece of seed cake when
we get into bed, and go to sleep to dream of big bowls of steaming
porridge with brown sugar on the top," said Nealie; and the vision
proved so alluring that all seven trooped up the dark stairs and crowded
into the small bedrooms, feeling quite cheerful in spite of tired
limbs, hunger, and the discomfort of damp clothes.
But their voices hushed, and a wistful look crept into their faces, as
they passed the door leading into Aunt Judith's empty bedroom. The old
lady had loved them so dearly, and they had given her love for love in
unstinted measure, so that now she was dead there was an awful blank in
their hearts and their lives.
Being very tired and very healthy, however, they went to sleep directly
they tumbled into bed; indeed Ducky could not keep awake long enough to
eat her cake, so Nealie laid it on the chair by the little girl's bed
for her to find when she opened her eyes in the morning.
Sleep was longer in coming to Nealie than to the others. She was older
than they were, and had been mother to them so long that she was apt to
be thinking out ways and means when she ought to have been asleep.
It would be too utterly delightful to go out to Australia and live with
her father. It was nearly seven years since she had seen him, and her
heart was always aching at the thought of his lonely exile.
If only Mr. Runciman would consent to their going! But would he?
"Well, it is of no use to worry and to wonder; we must just wait and
see. But I think when all seven of us go marching into that splendid
library of his at The Paddock, he will be so dismayed to see what a lot
of us there are, that he will be quite ready to take the very shortest
way of getting rid of the bother of looking after us," she said to
herself, with a soft little laugh which rippled through the dark room
and even made itself heard in the other room across the passage where
the four boys were sleeping; and Rupert, who had been having bad dreams
because his lame foot was hurting rather badly, smiled in his uneasy
slumber and straightway drifted off into a more profound repose, from
which he did not wake until the misty September dawning crept over the
wide plantations of beech and larch for which Beechleigh was famous.