A SURPRISE
'Allan,' said Mrs. Stewart, coming downstairs, 'your father has to go
to Stornwell and will not be back until to-morrow, so there will be no
cricket match this afternoon. I have a note from Mrs. MacGregor,
asking you all to spend the day at Corranmore instead.'
'All right, Mother,' replied Allan; 'when are we to be there?'
'Mrs. MacGregor asks you to come early,' said Mrs. Stewart, consulting
the letter; 'I had better send you in the dog-cart, as it's rather far
to walk. Duncan is driving your father to the steamer, but he won't be
long.'
'Don't bother about the dog-cart, Mother,' said Allan; 'it would be
much jollier to walk; and we'd like to look in at Mrs. Macdonnell's
cottage on the way and ask what's the matter with Neil. We haven't
seen him for a day or two.'
'I wouldn't go there to-day, I think,' interposed Mrs. Stewart
hurriedly. 'I don't think Neil will be at home. I'm afraid the walk
would be too much for Tricksy,' she went on quickly, for the young
people were looking surprised.
'Not if we start now, I think, Mother, and give Tricksy a rest now and
again. What do you say, Tricksy?'
'Of course I can walk,' said Tricksy. 'I shan't be a bit tired,
Mother.'
Mrs. Stewart looked at her little daughter with a smile.
'I am afraid of your overdoing it, Tricksy; she said. 'You are always
trying to do as much as the others, who are so much older than
yourself. Well, do as you like; I leave you in Allan's charge, and he
will see that you are not made to walk too fast.'
'All right, Mother,' said Reggie; 'but won't you come a bit of the way
with us?'
'Not this morning, dear. I will come with you some other time.'
'All right, Mother,' said Reggie; 'but it's a long time since you've
gone anywhere with us. Cut away upstairs, Tricksy, and get your hat;
it's time we started if we are to take rests on the way.'
'Don't you think Mother is very quiet?' observed Tricksy, as the three
young people, accompanied by Laddie, were crossing the moor. 'I wonder
whether she's sorry about something?'
'I did not notice anything,' said Allan.
Tricksy had almost said, 'No, boys never do, but checked herself in
time.
The road between Ardnavoir and Corranmore led across the northern part
of the island, through fields and moorland. All the turnings of the
way brought into view fascinating glimpses of the sea, running inland
between brown rocks. Fishing-boats with white and russet sails lay
upon water turned to a sheet of silver by the sunlight, and grey and
white gulls floated about and screamed.
The breeze was blowing shoreward, tempering the warmth of the sun and
bringing brine and the odour of seaweed to mingle with the perfume of
bell-heather from the moors.
Laddie stepped lightly beside his young friends, waving his tail in the
air, and now and again pausing to investigate a rabbit-burrow or an
interesting tuft of heather or cotton-grass.
'Well, Tricksy, getting tired yet?' said Allan to his little sister
after they had walked between three and four miles.
'Not a bit,' replied Tricksy, trudging along determinedly, but with a
little roll in her gait which betrayed that she _was_.
'I think we'll rest awhile,' said Allan, and the three young folk sat
down upon a patch of fragrant, springy heather, while Laddie, after
looking at them for a minute, surprised at such an early halt, curled
himself up beside them.
'I wish Father would get the yacht out soon,' said Allan, watching the
sea and the fishing-boats.
'Yes,' said Reggie; 'he is very late this year.'
'He won't be long now,' said Allan. 'We are going to have visitors
soon. Father has written to ask Graham major and Graham minor and
their Pater to come and stay with us as they have such long holidays
this year, owing to the measles.'
'Who are they?' inquired Reggie.
'Fellows from my school. Did you never hear me speak of them?'
'_I_ didn't,' said Tricksy. 'Are they nice boys?'
'Decent enough.'
'Big or little?'
'One's a small fellow; only been at school one term. The other's
bigger; not more than eleven, though; more of an age for Reggie than
for me.'
Reggie looked indignant, but said nothing. There was nothing that
annoyed him so much as to be reminded that he was not yet a very big
boy.
'Well,' said Allan, 'perhaps we had better be going, if you have rested
enough, Tricksy. Hulloa, there's Euan Macdonnell, the coastguard,
Neil's cousin; we'll stop and ask him if he can come out fishing with
us some day soon.'
'Good day, Euan,' said the young people, pausing to speak, but the
coastguard only saluted and passed on as though he were in a hurry.
Reggie looked at Allan in surprise.
'Been sent on a message, I suppose,' said Allan, 'and hasn't time to
talk. The whole island seems to be upset by this affair at the
post-office. I wish they'd hurry up and catch the fellow and be done
with it. What's the matter with Laddie now?'
The collie, who had been sniffing about, following up a scent, had
suddenly given a bark and sprang over a dyke, and was now yelping and
baying excitedly as he jumped about on the other side.
'Hamish and Marjorie, I bet,' said Allan; and sure enough, two heads
appeared above the dyke, a good-natured one and a mischievous one, the
latter crowned by a scarlet cap on the top of a mass of fair curly hair.
'We thought we'd give you a surprise,' they said, 'but Laddie spoilt it
for us. Good dog, Laddie, lie down,' for Laddie's manifestations of
delight were taking the form of a loud baying which drowned all
attempts at conversation.
'Trust, Laddie!' said Tricksy in her little soft voice; but Laddie took
no notice.
'Laddie, trust!' said Reggie severely; and Laddie subsided at once,
surprised that his attentions should be so little appreciated.
Tricksy uttered a reproachful sigh, caused by her dog's inattention to
her commands.
'When does your mother expect us?' inquired Allan.
'Any time before dinner,' said Hamish. 'That's half-past one, and it's
only eleven now. We've got any amount of time. What do you say to
coming and looking at the gipsy encampment in the Corrie Wood? They're
breaking up camp and leaving the island to-morrow, so we may not have
another chance of seeing them.'
'All right,' said the others, and they trooped off to the tiny wood
nestling in a hollow through which a burn trickled, and from whence a
trail of smoke came blowing across the fresh green foliage of the trees.
All was bustle and stir in the gipsy encampment. Two carts were
standing at the entrance to the hollow, and upon these the gipsies were
piling their household goods--iron pots and kettles, bundles of rags,
some gaudy crockery, and a variety of miscellaneous articles whose use
it would be hard to determine.
At the sight of the young people the gipsies smiled a welcome, and the
men took off their hats. Some small black-eyed children toddled
forward, and stood staring, with their fingers in their mouths.
'Trust, Laddie!' said Allan; for two mongrel curs had rushed out and
barked, whereupon Laddie had stiffened his back and was growling
defiance.
Laddie was obliged to content himself with glaring at the other dogs
and making a few remarks to express his contempt for gipsy dogs, and
his view of their impertinence in presuming to look at his young ladies
and gentlemen.
'Tell your fortune, pretty lady,' said a woman to Marjorie, with a
smile which displayed her white teeth; but Marjorie shook her head.
'You are leaving Inchkerra?' said Allan to one of the men.
'Yes, sir. We start for Ireland to-morrow, in a sailing boat.'
'You haven't stayed very long,' observed Marjorie.
'Three months, lady. A long time for the gipsies.'
'Will you ever come back again?' inquired Marjorie.
The man shook his head.
'Can't say, lady. Maybe yes, maybe no. We never can tell. Thanks,
master; good luck to you,' he said, touching his straggling forelock as
Allan slipped a few coins into his hand.
'Good-bye, masters; good-bye, pretty ladies,' cried the gipsies in
farewell.
Some distance from the hollow, a tall, loosely-made youth rose
unexpectedly from where he had been basking in the sun, by the side of
a dyke which screened him from the cold wind.
In the weak, handsome face and roving eyes the young people recognised
Gibbie, the half-witted gipsy lad. An expression of disappointment
crossed his face as he looked over the group and seemed to miss some
one.
'Neil no with you,' he murmured. 'Want to see Neil. Was not at home.'
'Can we give him any message from you?' inquired Allan.
'Tell Neil, Gibbie go away. Long way; want to see Neil to say
good-bye.'
'Very well,' said Allan. 'When we see him, we'll tell him.'
A crafty smile flitted over the lad's face, and he lowered his voice to
a mysterious whisper.
'Neil will be pleased soon,' he said. 'Good Neil, good Neil. Neil
will be very rich, richer than the Gorjos; has a piece of paper worth
hundreds of pounds. Tell him to look for it. Gibbie go long way off.'
'Poor fellow,' observed Allan to Hamish, as the gipsy returned to his
lazy basking on the heather; 'he is quite crazy; can't speak
connectedly for two minutes at a time.'
'There is one good point in Gibbie's character,' said Hamish; 'he knows
that Neil saved his life, and he is grateful. I think the island won't
be sorry to see the last of him, though. He hasn't lived with his
tribe for weeks. He had a den of his own in the banks of the burn that
flows past our house; a queer place, far up in the hills.'
'Look,' said Reggie, 'that must be the gipsies' boat over there, off
the south side of the island; and a little boat is going out to it with
some of their things.'
'And there are the carts going down,' said Allan; 'it won't be long
before the camp is broken up.'
'Pity we couldn't go gipsying for a little while,' observed Marjorie;
'just for the summer. It would be such fun wandering about from place
to place. But look at the tide coming up in Cateran Bay; the waves are
dashing on the shore and making the most beautiful foam. Would there
be time for us to go down to the beach for a little while?'
'Plenty,' said Hamish; 'Mother doesn't expect us before one o'clock.'
'Come along, then,' said Marjorie; 'let's run;' and they all raced down
to the shore, Laddie with them, the dog jumping with all four paws off
the ground, and barking in anticipation of sport.
Breeze and tide together were flinging up little breakers which curled
on the shore and then retreated, only to be sent up again by the next
roller. A fascinating game was to run down to the very edge of a
retreating wave, with one's toes almost within the line of foam; to
wait until it gathered itself up again, and then fly to avoid being
overtaken by the water which came hissing and bubbling over the pebbles.
Laddie, after watching the fun for a minute or two, suddenly rushed off
with a bark, and returned dragging a huge flat stone which he deposited
at Allan's feet; then he stood eagerly waiting, making a variety of
signs to show Allan that he expected him to do something with it.
'Fetch, Laddie!' said Allan, throwing the stone as far as he could.
Laddie uttered a joyful yelp and sprang after it, returning with it in
his mouth to ask Allan to throw it again.
'Laddie, fetch!' cried Allan, throwing it into the sea this time, and
Laddie plunged into the water and came back dripping.
He laid down the stone and shook himself, to the great inconvenience of
Marjorie; then he jumped about, baying for Allan to throw the stone
once more.
The shouts and laughter and Laddie's barking were making a tumult which
vied with the noise of wind and waves, when Hamish touched Allan's arm
and pointed to the sky.
'Oh, I say,' said Allan, 'we really ought to go; it's going to pour
like anything, and the girls will get wet.'
'I'm wet enough already, I think, especially about the feet,' murmured
Tricksy; while Marjorie's lips tightened. She did not like the boys to
show that they thought her less hardy than themselves.
Some large drops on the stones warned them to hasten; and they reached
the doctor's house just as the storm burst.
Mrs. MacGregor, a pretty, young-looking lady, ran down into the hall to
meet them.
'My dear Tricksy,' she cried, as she took the little girl's wet, cold
hand, 'you are soaking! Your feet are drenched!'
'It's all right, Mrs. MacGregor,' piped Tricksy; 'we've been having a
fine game. Hamish, you've let Laddie in, and his feet are making wet
marks all over the floor!'
'Never mind Laddie,' said Mrs. MacGregor; 'take her upstairs and give
her dry shoes and stockings, Marjorie, and then come to dinner, all of
you.'
'You know, Marjorie,' observed Tricksy, as the elder girl somewhat
anxiously assisted her to pull off her wet stockings; 'you know you are
always telling me that we must be plucky and do all the things they
want us to do when we play with boys, or else they think we're a bore.'
'That's all very well, Tricksy,' replied Marjorie, 'but what shall we
do if you get ill? Your mother would stop your playing with us
altogether if that happened.'
'_I_ get ill with playing out of doors and having fun,' returned
Tricksy scornfully; 'I'm not such a duffer, Marjorie.'
Just before dinner Dr. MacGregor came in, 'such a dear of a man,' as
Tricksy had once described him, with bright blue eyes and curly hair
like Marjorie, and a kind expression like Hamish.
'How do you do, Reggie?' he said. 'How do you do, Allan? Do you like
school as much as ever? My dear,' turning to his wife, 'I shall have
to start immediately after lunch, and here is a note asking you to----'
The remainder of the sentence was lost, but the boys could see that
both Dr. and Mrs. MacGregor were looking very grave.
'I am sorry that Mrs. MacGregor and I must leave you,' said the doctor
while the meal was in progress, 'but I daresay you will manage to amuse
yourselves without getting into mischief; eh, Marjorie?' smiling at his
daughter, whose eyes flashed a saucy answer. 'You can have the boat
down if the rain keeps off.'
But the rain showed no disposition to keep off, despite the anxious
glances which were directed towards the window. When the clouds
gathered once more in threatening masses, and the rain came lashing the
panes, Dr. and Mrs. MacGregor took their departure in a closed
carriage, warning Hamish that the boat was not to be used unless the
sea went down.
'Bother!' said Tricksy, looking at the waves, which were tumbling over
each other and whitening with foam; 'what are we to do while it rains?'
'Sit round the nursery fire, of course, and talk,' said Marjorie.
An immense pile of peats was built up on the hearth of the cosy, untidy
room which had been the MacGregors' nursery; and the young folk sat
round the 'ingle-neuk' and discussed matters dear to the heart of
gamesome youth.
Suddenly Marjorie looked up and said, 'Hurrah! the rain's stopped.
What shall we do?'
'Too stormy to get the boat out,' said Hamish, rising and going to the
window; 'it's still very rough, and there will be another squall soon.'
'_I_ know,' said Marjorie; 'let's play hide-and-seek. No, not a
rubbishy game in the house,' she said, meeting Allan's look of
disapproval; 'a real good game out of doors, in the garden and the
sheds and the ruins. The rain will only make it jollier, and those who
mind getting wet are funks.'
With the wind blowing in gusts, and sudden showers splashing down from
all the roofs, the game promised some fun. Dr. MacGregor's was a
first-rate place for hide-and-seek, with a number of outhouses built
round a paved court, and the ruins of an old castle overlooking the
garden.
Marjorie and Reggie stayed at 'home' in the front lobby, where they
could hear calls both from out of doors or within; and the hiders
dispersed themselves quickly.
Soon three shouts were heard, coming from different directions; and the
pursuers ran out into the rain, which was beginning to fall again.
Hamish was quickly discovered in a window of the old ruin, for he could
not resist the temptation of grinning good-naturedly down from his
perch; but he escaped along the broken flooring while they were waiting
at the foot of a stairway, and reached 'home' before they were aware.
'You didn't give us enough of a chase,' cried Marjorie to him through
the streaming pane; then she went off, rather annoyed, to look for the
others.
They hunted for some time among the outhouses, getting shower-baths of
drops from the eaves; but no one was to be found. At last they saw a
movement among some straw in the byre, and Marjorie made a dash
forward, just too late to catch Allan, who slipped out and made for the
door.
Reggie barred his passage.
'Unfair--different directions!' cried Allan; for it was the rule among
the Stewarts and MacGregors that when two were chasing one they must
both keep to the same route; and Reggie stood aside.
They were pretty fairly matched, pursuers and pursued; and for a long
time Allan led the two others a chase among the maze of buildings; but
at last, his foot slipping upon the wet paving-stones, he was captured
by a bold dash from Marjorie.
'Only Tricksy now,' gasped Marjorie, pushing back her wet hair, which
was clinging about her face; 'we haven't seen a sign of her; where can
she be?'
'You have run enough,' suggested Allan; 'go in and let one of us take
your place.'
Marjorie flashed a glance of indignation at him, annoyed that he should
suppose that she was not going to see the thing out, and after drawing
a few long breaths she and Reggie started off again.
By this time the rain had ceased, and a pleasant smell was rising from
the damp earth and dripping trees.
No little footprints were to be seen in the garden; and it was
impossible that Tricksy could have escaped observation had she been in
the ruins or in any of the outhouses.
They hunted all over the house, then went into the field, and even
climbed the dyke which separated the doctor's grounds from the
moorland; but no Tricksy was to be seen.
'I believe she has gone beyond bounds,' said Allan, who, with Hamish,
had grown tired of waiting and had wandered out to see what was going
on; 'we said the garden and the field, you know.'
'Not she,' declared Reggie, perched outside upon the dyke, with the
wind drying his wet face and clothing; 'we have taught her to play
fair. She is only lying low in some place that we haven't thought of.
Let's shout to her to call "cuckoo."'
They raised their voices and cried, 'Call cuckoo, Tricksy;' and Laddie,
who had been shut in the house to keep him from spoiling sport, but who
had made good his escape behind the boys, pricked up his ears and
resolved to be useful.
A muffled voice was heard in response, and Laddie, with a bark, sprang
towards the peat-stack and stood before it, wagging his tail and trying
to make an entrance with nose and paws.
Some of the peats were tumbled aside, and Tricksy emerged, looking very
indignant.
'A nice way to play,' she said, 'setting Laddie on to me when you
couldn't find me yourselves.'
They tried to explain, but Tricksy's eyes were full of contempt, and
her small figure seemed to grow taller with offended dignity.
'Such a nice hiding-place,' she said; 'and now you've gone and spoilt
it all.'
'Don't be a little silly, Tricksy,' said Reggie to her in an undertone;
and Tricksy allowed her dignity to subside.
Fresh hiding-places were chosen; and when at last the young people were
so tired as to be disinclined to run any more, Marjorie suggested going
indoors to see whether tea were ready.
The dining-room table was bare, and all faces fell.
'I'll just go into the kitchen and see what Elspeth is about,' said
Marjorie; 'perhaps the servants are forgetting us.'
In the stone-floored kitchen, whither they all trooped after Marjorie,
Elspeth was sitting knitting by the fireside.
'Elspeth, when is tea going to be ready?' inquired Marjorie, rather
impatiently.
The girl looked up at her, then down again at her knitting with
pretended indifference.
'Tea, Miss Marjorie? I wass thinking you would not be wanting any tea
to-day.'
Marjorie's lips tightened, but she kept down the rising temper with an
effort.
'Why not?' she asked. 'Here are Allan and Reggie and Tricksy from
Ardnavoir; and we want our tea, please.'
Elspeth looked up, and seemed to see the others for the first time.
'Would you ask the young ladies and gentle men to wipe their feet on
the rug, Miss Marjorie if you please? They are spoiling my kitchen
floor.'
This request made the whole troop feel uncomfortable, and they began
shifting from one foot to the other, conscious that they must have
brought more mud into the house than the authorities were at all likely
to approve of.
'All right,' said Marjorie impatiently; 'we are not coming in any
further; but will you please get tea ready for us as soon as you can?'
'Get tea ready! And how am I to do that, Miss Marjorie, if you please,
when the girdle hass been taken away out of the kitchen? I cannot be
making scones on the open fire.'
Marjorie turned red and bit her lip.
'Oh, never mind the girdle,' she said. 'We'll do without scones for
one day.'
'Indeed, Miss Marjorie, I never saw tea without scones. That may be
the way in foreign parts, but there never wass tea in the West
Highlands without scones; and I will be thinking you will have to wait
till the girdle comes home again.'
A flash darted out of Marjorie's eyes; and she remained rooted to the
spot for a minute. Then she took a sudden resolve and turned away,
elbowing the others out of the room.
'Cat!' she muttered; 'I'll be even with her yet. Never mind, people;
if she won't give us our tea we can get it for ourselves. Get cups and
things out of the pantry, Hamish; and Reggie, you come with me.'
The larder window was rather high up from the ground and was secured by
several iron bars.
With some difficulty they pushed up the lower sash a little way; and
through the opening thus made Reggie contrived to wriggle his slight,
thin body.
'Is there anything there worth carrying away?' said Marjorie, standing
on tip-toe and peering in.
'Here's a cake,' said Reggie; 'and there are several pots of jam.'
'All right, hand them out. There's a pie; we might as well have that;
serve Elspeth right for getting into a temper. Now let's come in with
what we've got.'
Reggie squeezed himself through the opening, feet foremost, and dropped
to the ground.
'Here--Hamish--Allan;' said Marjorie, entering the house; 'take these
things to the dining-room. Have you any plates? No. I'll get them
out of the pantry; and knives and spoons too. Bother, she's got the
teapot in the kitchen; I'll have to go in and get it.'
She strode into the kitchen with flashing eyes and a haughty step; then
stopped short in amazement.
'Elspeth!' she exclaimed; 'whatever are you crying for?'
There was no answer.
'Is it because of the girdle?'
The girl shook her head; the tears falling upon the knitting which she
was holding with trembling hands.
'Is it because we are taking the things out of the larder?'
'Not that, Miss Marjorie.'
'Then whatever is the matter?'
By this time all the others had crowded in, looking very much
astonished.
'Elspeth, are you ill?' asked Tricksy, her large dark eyes growing very
round in her little face.
'No, Miss Tricksy; no, Miss Marjorie; it will be none of that; it will
be Neil.'
'Neil!' exclaimed Marjorie, while the others looked more and more
amazed. 'What's the matter with him? Neil is Elspeth's cousin, you
know,' she explained.
'Neil, poor lad; he will hev been arrested, Miss Marjorie. They will
hev taken him up for robbing the post-office! Eh, Miss Marjorie, your
mother said you weren't to know, and it iss me that will hev been
telling you. Och! the disgrace to an honest family!' and the girl
threw her apron over her head and moaned and lamented to herself in
Gaelic, while they all stood around her, speechless.