gotten gain. We then parted, with the understanding that we were to meet
him in the alley between the two houses promptly at midnight, and that
in the meantime, we were to preserve a calm and commonplace demeanor.
With the addition of four crullers and a slab of cold bread pudding
filched from the pantry, our preparations were now complete.
We were well-disciplined little animals; we always went to bed without a
murmur, but on this night we literally flew there. The Seraph ended his
prayers with--'And for this piwate tweasure make us twuly thankful.
Amen.'
The next moment we had dived under the bedclothes and snuggled there in
wild expectancy.
From half-past seven to twelve is a long stretch. The Seraph slept
peacefully. Angel or I rose every little while and struck a match to
look at the clock. At nine we were so hungry that we ate all four
crullers. At eleven we ate the slab of cold bread pudding. After that we
talked less, and I think Angel dozed, but I lay staring in the direction
of the window, watching for the brightness which would signify that
Captain Pegg was astir and had lighted his gas.
At last it came--a pale and trembling messenger, that showed our little
room to me in a new aspect--one of mystery and grotesque shadows.
I was on my feet in an instant. I shook Angel’s shoulder.
'Up with you!' I whispered, hoarsely. 'The hour has come!'
I knew that drastic measures must be taken with The Seraph, so I just
grasped him under the armpits and stood him on his feet without a word.
He wobbled for a space, digging his knuckles in his eyes.
The hands of the clock pointed to ten minutes to twelve.
Angel and I hastily pulled on our trousers; and he, who liked to dress
the part, stuck a knife in his belt and twisted a scarlet silk
handkerchief (borrowed from Mary Ellen) round his head. His dark eyes
glistened under its folds.
The Seraph and I went unadorned, save that he girt his trusty sword
about his stout middle and I carried a toy bayonet.
Down the inky-black stairs we crept, scarcely breathing. The lower hall
seemed cavernous. I could smell the old carpets and the haircloth
covering of the chairs. We sidled down the back hall among goloshes,
umbrellas, and Turk’s-head dusters. The back door had a key like that of
a jail.
Angel tried it with both hands, but though it grated horribly, it stuck.
Then I had a try, and could not resist a triumphant click of the tongue
when it turned, for Angel was a vain fellow and took a rise out of being
the elder.
And when the moonlight shone upon us in the yard!--oh, the delicious
freedom of it! We hopped for joy.
In the alley we awaited our leader. Between the houses we could see the
low half-moon, hanging like a tilted bird’s nest in the dark-blue sky,
while a group of stars fluttered near it like young birds. The cathedral
chimes sounded the hour of midnight.
Soon we heard the stealthy steps of Captain Pegg, and we gasped as we
saw him; for in place of his flowered dressing-gown he wore breeches and
top boots, a loose shirt with a blue neckerchief knotted at the throat,
and, gleaming at his side, a cutlass.
He smiled broadly when he saw us.
'Well, if you aren’t armed--every man-jack of you--even to the
bantling!' he cried. 'Capital!'
'My sword, she’s _weal_,' said The Seraph with dignity. 'Sometimes I
fight giants.'
Captain Pegg then shook hands with each of us in turn, and we thrilled
at being treated as an equal by such a man.
'And now to work!' he said, heartily. 'Here is the plan of the yard as
sent by Jenks.'
We could see it plainly by the moonlight, all neatly drawn out, even to
the ash-barrel and the clothes-dryer, and there, on the fifth plank from
the end, was a cross in red ink, and beside it the magic
word--'Treasure'!
Captain Pegg inserted the crowbar in a wide crack between the fourth and
fifth boards, then we all pressed our full weight upon it with a 'Yo
heave ho, my hearties!' from our chief.
The board flew up and we flew down, sprawling on the ground. Somehow the
captain, being versed in such matters, kept his feet, though he
staggered a bit.
Then, in an instant, we were pulling wildly at the plank to dislodge it.
This we accomplished after much effort, and a dark, dank recess was
disclosed.
Captain Pegg dropped to his knees, and with his hand explored cautiously
under the planks. His face fell.
'Shiver my timbers if I can find it!' he muttered.
'Let me try!' I cried eagerly.
Both Angel and I thrust our hands in also and fumbled among the moist
lumps of earth.
Captain Pegg now lighted a match and held it in the aperture. It cast a
glow upon our tense faces.
'Hold it closer!' implored Angel. 'This way--right here--don’t you see?'
At the same moment we both had seen the heavy metal ring that projected,
ever so little, above the surface of the earth. We grasped it
simultaneously and pulled. Captain Pegg lighted another match. It was
heavy--oh, so heavy!--but we got it out: a fair-sized leather bag bound
with thongs. To one of these was attached the ring we had first caught
sight of.
Now, kneeling as we were, we stared up in Captain Pegg’s face. His wide
blue eyes had somehow got a different look.
'Little boys,' he said gently, 'open it!
There in the moonlight, we unloosed the fastening of the bag and turned
its contents out upon the bare boards. The treasure lay disclosed then,
a glimmering heap, as if, out of the dank earth, we had digged a patch
of moonshine.
We squatted on the boards around it, our heads touching, our wondering
eyes filled with the magic of it.
'It is treasure,' murmured Angel, in an awe-struck voice, 'real treasure
trove. Will you tell us, Captain Pegg, what all these things are?'
Captain Pegg, squatting like the rest of us, ran his hands meditatively
through the strange collection.
'Why, strike me purple,' he growled, 'if that scamp Jenks hasn’t kept
most of the gold coins and left us only the silver! But here’s three
golden doubloons, all right, one apiece for ye! And here’s ducats and
silver florins, and pieces of eight--and some I can’t name till I get
the daylight on them. It’s a pretty bit of treasure all told; and see
here--'
He held up two old Spanish watches, just the thing for gentlemen
adventurers.
We boys were now delving into the treasure on our own account, and
brought to light a brace of antiquated pistols, an old silver flagon, a
compass, a wonderful set of chessmen carved from ivory, and some curious
shells, that delighted The Seraph. And other quaint things there were
that we handled reverently, and coins of different countries, square and
round, and some with holes bored through.
We were so intent upon our discovery that none of us heard the
approaching footsteps till they were fair upon us. Then, with a start,
we turned, and saw to our horror Mrs. Handsomebody and Mary Ellen, with
her hair in curl-papers, and close behind them, Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer
Pegg, scantily attired, the gentleman carrying a revolver.
'David! John! Alexander!' gobbled Mrs. Handsomebody.
'Now what d’ye think of that!' came from Mary Ellen.
'Father! Have you gone quite mad?' cried Mrs. Pegg. And--'Oh, I say,
governor,' stammered the gentleman with the revolver.
Captain Pegg rose to his feet with dignity.
'These young gentlemen,' he said, simply, 'have with my help been able
to locate some buried treasure, which was stolen from me years ago by a
man named Jenks, and has lain hidden here since two decades. I hereby
renounce all claim to it in favor of my three brave friends!'
Mr. Pegg was bent over the treasure.
'Now, look here, sir,' he said, rather sharply, 'some of this seems to
be quite valuable stuff--'
'I know the value of it to a penny,' replied his father, with equal
asperity, 'and I intend that it shall belong solely and wholly to these
boys.'
'Whatever are you rigged up like that for?' demanded his
daughter-in-law.
'As gentlemen of spirit,' replied Captain Pegg, patiently, 'we chose to
dress the part. We do what we can to keep a little glamour and gayety in
the world. Some folk'--he looked at Mrs. Handsomebody--'would like to
discipline it all away.'
'I think,' said our governess, 'that considering it is _my_ back yard, I
have some claim to--'
'None at all, madam--none at all!' interrupted Captain Pegg. 'By all the
rules of treasure-hunting, the finder keeps the treasure.'
Mrs. Handsomebody was silenced. She did not wish to quarrel with the
Peggs.
Mrs. Pegg moved closer to her.
'Mrs. Handsomebody,' she said, winking her white eyelashes very fast, 'I
really do not think that you should allow your pupils to accept
this--er--treasure. My father-in-law has become very eccentric of late,
and I am positive that he himself buried these things very recently.
Only day before yesterday, I saw that set of ivory chessmen on his
writing-table.'
'Hold your tongue, Sophia!' shouted Captain Pegg loudly.
Mr. Mortimer Pegg looked warningly at his wife.
'All right, governor! Don’t you worry,' he said, taking his father’s
arm. 'It shall be just as you say; but one thing is certain, you’ll take
your death of cold if you stay out in this night air.'
As he spoke, he turned up the collar of his coat.
Captain Pegg shook hands with a grand air with Angel and me, then he
lifted The Seraph in his arms and kissed him.
'Good-night, bantling!' he said, softly. 'Sleep tight!'
He turned then to his son.
'Mort,' said he, 'I haven’t kissed a little boy like that since you were
just so high.'
Mr. Pegg laughed and shivered, and they went off quite amiably, arm in
arm, Mrs. Pegg following, muttering to herself.
Mrs. Handsomebody looked disparagingly at the treasure. 'Mary Ellen,'
she ordered, 'help the children to gather up that rubbish, and come in
at once! Such an hour it is!'
Mary Ellen, with many exclamations, assisted in the removal of the
treasure to our bedroom. Mrs. Handsomebody, after seeing it deposited
there, and us safely under the bedclothes, herself extinguished the gas.
'I shall write to your father,' she said, severely, 'and tell him the
whole circumstance. _Then_ we shall see what is to be done with _you_,
and with the _treasure_.'
With this veiled threat she left us. We snuggled our little bodies
together. We were cold.
'I’ll write to father myself, to-morrow, an’ ’splain everything,' I
announced.
'D’ you know,' mused Angel, 'I b’lieve I’ll be a pirate, ’stead of a
civil engineer like father. I b’lieve there’s more in it.'
'I’ll be an engineer just the same,' said I.
'I fink,' murmured The Seraph, sleepily, 'I fink I’ll jus’ be a bishop,
an’ go to bed at pwoper times an’ have poached eggs for tea.'
THE PRINCESS OF MAKE-BELIEVE
ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL
THE Princess was washing dishes. On her feet she would barely have
reached the rim of the great dish-pan, but on the soap-box she did very
well. A grimy calico apron trailed to the floor.
'Now this golden platter I must wash _extry_ clean,' the Princess said.
'The Queen is ve-ry particular about her golden platters. Last time,
when I left one o' the corners,--it’s such a nextremely heavy platter to
hold,--she gave me a scold,--oh, I mean,--I mean she tapped me a little
love pat on my cheek with her golden spoon.'
It was a great brown-veined stoneware platter, and the arms of the
Princess ached with holding it. Then, in an unwary instant, it slipped
out of her soapsudsy little fingers and crashed to the floor. Oh! oh!
the Queen! the Queen! She was coming! The Princess heard her shrill,
angry voice, and felt the jar of her heavy steps. There was the space of
an instant--an instant is so short!--before the storm broke.
'You little limb o' Satan! That’s my best platter, is it? Broke all to
bits, eh? I’ll break'--But there was a flurry of dingy apron and dingier
petticoats, and the little Princess had fled. She did not stop till she
was in her Secret Place among the willows. Her small lean face was pale,
but undaunted.
'Th-the Queen isn’t feeling very well to-day,' she panted. 'It’s
wash-day up at the Castle. She never enjoys herself on wash-days. And
then that golden platter--I’m sorry I smashed it all to flinders! When
the Prince comes I shall ask him to buy another.'
The Prince had never come, but the Princess waited for him patiently.
She sat with her face to the west and looked for him to come through the
willows with the red sunset light filtering across his hair. That was
the way the Prince was coming, though the time was not set. It might be
a good while before he came, and then again--you never could tell!
'But when he does, and we’ve had a little while to get acquainted, then
I shall say to him, "Hear, O Prince, and give ear to my--my petition!
For verily, verily, I have broken many golden platters and jasper cups
and saucers, and the Queen, long live her! is sore--sore--"'
The Princess pondered for the forgotten word. She put up a little lean
brown hand and rubbed a tingling spot on her temple--ah, not the Queen!
It was the Princess--long live her!--who was 'sore.'
'"I beseech thee, O Prince," I shall say, "buy new golden platters and
jasper cups and saucers for the Queen, and then shall I verily, verily
be--be--"'
Oh, the long words--how they slipped out of reach! The little Princess
sighed rather wearily. She would have to rehearse that speech so many
times before the Prince came. Suppose he came to-night! Suppose she
looked up now, this minute, toward the golden west, and he was there,
swinging along through the willow canes toward her!
But there was no one swinging along through the willows. The yellow
light flickered through--that was all. Somewhere, a long way off,
sounded the monotonous hum of men’s voices. Through the lace-work of
willow twigs there showed the faintest possible blur of color. Down
beyond, in the clearing, the Castle Guards in blue jean blouses were
pulling stumps. The Princess could not see their dull, passionless
faces, and she was glad of it. The Castle Guards depressed her. But they
were not as bad as the Castle Guardesses. _They_ were mostly old women
with bleared, dim eyes, and they wore such faded--silks.
'_My_ silk dress is rather faded,' murmured the little Princess
wistfully.
She smoothed down the scant calico skirt with her brown little fingers.
The patch in it she would not see.
'I shall have to have the Royal Dressmaker make me another one soon. Let
me see--what color shall I choose? I’d _like_ my gold-colored velvet
made up. I’m tired of wearing royal purple dresses all the time, though
of course I know they’re appropriater. I wonder what color the Prince
would like best? I should rather choose that color.'
The Princess’s little brown hands were clasped about one knee, and she
was rocking herself slowly back and forth, her eyes, wistful and wide,
on the path the Prince would come. She was tired to-day and it was
harder to wait.
'But when he comes I shall say, "Hear, O Prince. Verily, verily, I did
not know which color you would like to find me dressed--I mean
arrayed--in, and so I beseech thee excuse--_pardon_, I mean, mine
infirmity."'
The Princess was not sure of 'infirmity,' but it sounded well. She could
not think of a better word.
'And then--I _think_ then--he will take me in his arms, and his face
will be all sweet and splendid like the Mother o' God’s in the picture,
and he will whisper,--I don’t think he will say it out loud,--oh, I’d
rather not!--"Verily, Princess," he will whisper, "oh, verily, _verily_,
thou hast found favor in my sight!" And that will mean that he doesn’t
care what color I am, for he--loves--me.'
Lower and lower sank the solemn voice of the Princess. Slower and slower
rocked the little lean body. The birds themselves stopped singing at the
end. In the Secret Place it was very still.
'Oh, no, no, no,--not _verily_!' breathed the Princess, in soft awe.
For the wonder of it took her breath away. She had never in her life
been loved, and now, at this moment, it seemed so near! She thought she
heard the footsteps of the Prince.
They came nearer. The crisp twigs snapped under his feet. He was
whistling.
'Oh, I can’t look!--I can’t!' gasped the little Princess, but she turned
her face to the west,--she had always known it would be from the
west,--and lifted closed eyes to his coming. When he got to the Twisted
Willow she might dare to look--to the Little Willow Twins, anyway.
'And I shall know when he does,' she thought. 'I shall know the minute!'
Her face was rapt and tender. The miracle she had made for herself,--the
gold she had coined out of her piteous alloy,--was it not come true at
last?--Verily, verily?
Hush! Was the Prince not coming through the willows? And the sunshine
was trickling down on his hair! The Princess knew, though she did not
look.
'He is at the Twisted Willow,' she thought. '_Now_ he is at the Little
Willow Twins.'
But she did not open her eyes. She did not dare. This was a little
different, she had never counted on being afraid.
The twigs snapped louder and nearer--now very near. The merry whistle
grew clearer, and then it stopped.
'Hullo!'
Did princes say 'Hullo!'
The Princess had little time to wonder, for he was there before her. She
could feel his presence in every fibre of her trembling little being,
though she would not open her eyes for very fear that it might be
somebody else. No, no, it was the Prince! It was his voice, clear and
ringing, as she had known it would be. She put up her hands suddenly and
covered her eyes with them to make surer. It was not fear now, but a
device to put off a little longer the delight of seeing him.
'I say, hullo! Haven’t you got any tongue?'
'Oh, verily, verily,--I mean hear, O Prince, I beseech,' she panted.
The boy’s merry eyes regarded the shabby small person in puzzled
astonishment. He felt an impulse to laugh and run away, but his royal
blood forbade either. So he waited.
'You are the Prince,' the little Princess cried. 'I’ve been waiting the
longest time,--but I knew you’d come,' she added simply. 'Have you got
your velvet an’ gold buckles on? I’m goin' to look in a minute, but I’m
waiting to make it spend.'
The Prince whistled softly. 'No,' he said then, 'I didn’t wear _them_
clo’es to-day. You see, my mother--'
'The Queen,' she interrupted; 'you mean the Queen?'
'You bet I do! She’s a reg’lar-builter! Well, she don’t like to have me
wearin' out my best clo’es every day,' he said gravely.
'No,' eagerly, 'nor mine don’t. Queen, I mean,--but she isn’t a mother,
mercy, no! I only wear silk dresses every day, not my velvet ones. This
silk one is getting a little faded.'
She released one hand to smooth the dress wistfully. Then she remembered
her painfully practiced little speech and launched into it hurriedly.
'Hear, O Prince. Verily, verily, I did not know which color you 'd like
to find me dressed in--I mean _arrayed_. I beseech thee to excuse--oh,
_pardon_, I mean--'
But she got no further. She could endure the delay no longer, and her
eyes flew open.
She had known his step; she had known his voice. She knew his face. It
was terribly freckled, and she had not expected freckles on the face of
the Prince. But the merry, honest eyes were the Prince’s eyes. Her gaze
wandered downward to the home-made clothes and bare, brown legs, but
without uneasiness. The Prince had explained about his clothes.
Suddenly, with a shy, glad little cry, the Princess held out her hands
to him.
The royal blood flooded the face of the Prince and filled in all the
spaces between its little gold-brown freckles. But the Prince held out
his hand to her. His lips formed for words and she thought he was going
to say, 'Verily, Princess, thou hast found favor--'
'Le’ ’s go fishin',' the Prince said.
THE TWO APPLES
JAMES EDMUND DUNNING
WHEN the morning of the sixteenth day broke out from the gray
battlements to the east’ard, only two live men remained on the raft
which more than two weeks before had left the splintered side of the
barkentine; besides, there was one dead man, and his body counted three
out of a dozen who had clung to the raft until ten starved to death
because they could not live on red apples and brine.
Zadoc roused as much as a man can when every morning he wakens less and
less until some day he does not waken at all. Jeems lay staring at the
sun as at a stranger’s face.
'Turn out, Jeems,' said Zadoc, when he had worked some life back into
his thickening tongue, 'till we put him over.'
They rolled the body into the sea with no words or ceremonials to mark
the end, except that Jeems, when some part of the splash stung his face,
struck off the drops with trembling, horrified hands.
'Two apples left,' said Zadoc, not in any tentative sounding of
possibilities, but with finality forced home by a fact so plain and near
as to render evasion needless.
'One for to-day,' said Jeems, 'the--the other one for to-morrow.'
'The _last_ one for to-morrow!' returned Zadoc, bold as ever. 'Let us
wait as long as we can before breakfast!'
The raft drifted many hours, following the sun around the fatal, empty
bowl. Jeems broke that vast silence.
'Zadoc, I must eat something. My head is--you know--my head!'
'So does mine,' said Zadoc. 'Cut the first apple in two.'
It takes so little to satisfy, when one is starving, and that little
goes so very fast! When Zadoc put his furred teeth into half the first
apple, it was as if he had not tasted such since he left Cape Cod a
dozen years before. His mind, strained with a long, unrealized hope,
forgot the timbers on which his bent muscles clung, and went back to an
orchard he had known--where such apples always grew. The cool air from
the shadows underneath the tree-rows seemed interlaid with waves of heat
and the loved odors of the sunlit seaside farm,--that long slope from
the meadow land up, up and up beneath the slant uncertain fence to where
the white top-sides of the house were vividly set off in green,--till
Zadoc came to himself and understood that the smell was only the damp
breath of the Atlantic, and the heat the plunging agony which flowed
from his own tense heart. The first apple was gone.
The two men’s eyes conversed in brief. Then Zadoc said,--
'I’m going to sleep again, if it _is_ sleep. Anyway, I’m tired. Can you
stay up a while?'
'It’s my trick,' consented Jeems.
Neither spoke of the approaching end, but when they had sat staring at
each other a time,--for mad men’s minds move with but a mock agility,
Zadoc said,--
'Put the second apple under the tin cup in the middle of the raft, and
keep it there.'
When the apple was safe, Zadoc held out his right hand.
'Until I wake, Jeems!' he said.
'It is safe there,' was the answer.
And Zadoc lay down on the soggy timbers, satisfied, with faith in the
honor of his starving mate.
To Jeems, who watched, the sea looked as never in his life before. For
years he had enslaved it. As a tough Mount Desert fisher-boy, he had
bound it to his childish will; and in many later years afloat had thrown
back its innumerable challenges with all contempt until the Last Time.
In sailors' lives, birth and the marriage-day bow down to the Last Time.
It always comes, when Fortune or the years have made them blindly bold.
His courage fled before the onslaught of these terrible seas which, high
above the level of his blurring eyes, swept up in a torturous parade, as
if Death maddened his victims by passing his grand divisions in review.
Besides, the pain of hunger so outgrew all reason! It cut through the
man’s thin body like the blade of a great and sudden sorrow in one’s
heart, through and through, ever returning, never going!
A greater sea than the others rolled underneath the raft, and shook the
loose boards so that the tin dipper rolled on its inverted rim, and then
fell tinkling back again. Jeems crawled to where he could lift the
dipper and see beneath. The second apple lay secure, its plump sides a
shocking contrast to the terrors of the raft. Jeems looked hard. A cruel
pain shot from his throat to his heels in a tearing red-hot spiral. The
first apple had so cooled his mouth! Water began running off Jeems’s
chin. If he could only run his fingers down those rounding sides, maybe
they would catch some of the orchard smell.
Jeems clapped the dipper down with a sudden muscular fury, and kicked
Zadoc into sense with such vigor that he fell exhausted from the effort.
'I was so lonesome, I thought I might go off,' he explained, adding,
'Zadoc, what’s your family?'
'Five and the wife, God help 'em,' said Zadoc, not dramatically either,
but just dully, as if it was what his mind had grown to know very much
better than anything else. 'Have you?'