“THE BESTEST BEST.”
“Well, now my dear Faith, do tell me as clearly as you can what has
happened. I find poor Di dangerously ill, and Andrew shut up in deep
disgrace, and I hear that all through Andrew’s fault, the little French
boy has broken his leg very badly. And whenever I ask for an
explanation, it all seems to begin and end with a bee-room and a
bee-hive. What does it all mean?”
It was poor Mrs. Durand who spoke.
She was tired out by her hurried journey from the North, and shocked by
the disturbed condition in which she found Gaybrook Farm and all its
inmates, and was really at her wit’s ends to comprehend what chain of
events could have resulted in these dire consequences.
“It all happened in this way,” began Faith, with a heavy sigh. “Di found
out that there was a mysterious door in the house, which no one had
opened for about a hundred years. And as nobody would satisfy her
curiosity as to what was in the room, and why it had been left closed so
long, she determined to discover it for herself. So she and Andrew
agreed to force open the door, and they chose the day when we had all
gone to the fair to do it.”
“And that door belonged to the bee-room, I suppose,” said Mrs. Durand.
“Yes,” answered Faith, who then went on to give Nanny’s explanation
concerning that wonderful hive of monster dimensions and of
extraordinary long standing, and told how it had been the boast of the
Bussons, from father to son, that no one should disturb those winged
intruders.
“And you mean to tell me that those naughty children broke into that
room,” cried Mrs. Durand. “No wonder such terrible results followed.”
“Indeed, they were terrible,” said Faith. “Poor Libbie will talk of that
afternoon for the rest of her life, I am sure. And oh, mother, you can’t
think how angry the farmer was, and what a bad time poor Mrs. Busson has
had in consequence. That was why we thought that, after all, Andrew was
very lucky to get off with no worse punishment than being dressed up in
a monster bee-hive, and tied up to the flag-staff on the top of the
mound in the orchard. Of course, it was dreadful to be made such a
laughing stock to everyone, and it must have been very tiring and
disagreeable altogether,” went on Fay, entering more fully into various
details of Andrew’s form of punishment; “but,” she wound up, “though it
was hard on Andrew to be forgotten, and left to himself, it was too mean
of him to make poor little Gaston stand up there in--”
“Oh, but Gaston did offer,” broke in Phoena; “at least, this is what I
make out happened from Gaston. He felt so sorry for Andrew, left behind
in such dreadful disgrace, that he ran back from us, and went and hid in
his favourite ditch, so that he might be within speaking distance of
Andrew, and yet not be seen. Then it seems that when Andrew went on
crying out so, and imploring that somebody would come and take his
place, only just to keep the straw erection upright and visible, whilst
he rested,--because, you see,” explained Phoena, “Mr. Busson said, if he
saw Andrew move, he would beat him--Gaston came out of his ditch, and
offered to help him.”
“Then did Gaston take his place in the bee-hive?” asked Mrs. Durand,
“and so set Andrew free?”
“Yes,” said Phoena, “the idea was that he should only stay there for
just long enough to give Andrew time to stretch his legs, and rest for a
few minutes; for Gaston said the weight of that straw was very tiring,
and Andrew promised that if Gaston would undertake not to move from the
chair, he would only just go round the orchard, and come back again, and
set him free.”
“And didn’t Andrew keep his word?”
“No,” said Phoena, “instead of minutes, he left Gaston standing there
hour after hour, for he would not break his promise--Gaston wouldn’t, I
mean,--till at last, worn out with weariness, and want of food, he fell
off the chair, and broke his leg.”
“You see,” explained Faith, “Gaston wasn’t tied to the back of the
chair, as the farmer had been careful to tie Andrew, so that he might
have a support at his back; for when Gaston had set him free, Andrew was
only in such a hurry to get off himself, that he did nothing for Gaston.
So poor Gaston had nothing to lean against. Oh, mother, I am ashamed of
Andrew, I am ashamed of him,” wound up poor Fay, tearfully.
“The boys say that they will never speak to him again,” said Phoena.
“None of you will have the chance of doing so for some time to come,”
said Mrs. Durand; “for I had already arranged for him to go to a tutor,
in Edinburgh, where I hope he will be taught better ways, and now I
shall telegraph to Sarah to come and fetch him away this very afternoon,
and keep him with her at home, till I can settle for his journey north.
It will depend on his behaviour there, if I allow him to come home at
Christmas.”
“It was a terrible pity,” said Fay, “that he and Di ever thought of
breaking into that room. Is it really true, mother, that yesterday the
doctor thought that Di might never get better?”
“It is indeed,” said Mrs. Durand, “and though he hopes now, that by
God’s mercy she may recover, Dr. Forbes says that it will be long before
Di is quite well again. She has had a sharp lesson for her disobedience,
which she will never forget all her life. And now, children, as regards
poor, dear little Gaston, we must all think what we can do for him,”
added Mrs. Durand.
“He’ll have to have the golden prize,” cried Hubert, coming into the
room, so as to catch the last words, “for we all agreed, didn’t we? that
the one who did the unselfishest thing, and the thing that hurt
themselves the most, should be called the bestest of them all.”
* * * * *
The pride of the summer was gone, as Mrs. Busson termed it. The harvest
fields had been cleared, and the apple-gathering was about to begin,
when the grand feast, which was to celebrate the achievements of the
Knights of the Order of Good Intentions, was at last held.
Matters had turned out very differently from what they had expected,
when the children had first planned it all.
Andrew was away in disgrace, and Gaston, though he made a brave show of
being well again, was still on crutches, whilst as to Diana, with her
white face, and closely-shaven head, she looked like nothing but a thin,
pale ghost of the merry “scarlet-runner” of the earlier summer days. If
the truth must be told, Di, who had not distinguished herself,
especially either by her patience or gentleness during her illness, was
never heard again to jeer about “pillow-case saints.”
“Yes, it has all ended very differently from what we thought,” said
Faith; “and it seems so odd to think that by this time to-morrow every
one of us will be far away from here, even Gaston.”
For to Gaston’s great joy, his favourite uncle was coming the next day
to take him back to France, and the others were all leaving for home by
the morning train.
To all, the end of their eventful visit to Gaybrook had come.
Of course, Gaston was the hero of the day.
Ever since his accident, the children had vied with each other in making
much of him, whilst Jack and Phil had delighted Gaston beyond words, by
declaring that there was not a fellow in their school who would have
stuck more pluckily to his guns than Gaston had stuck to his bee-hive.
“And you are glad that you have won the golden prize, aren’t you,
Gaston; werry glad?” said Marygold,--she had claimed to sit next to him
at the feast--“and you will be ever so proud to show it to your uncle.”
“Ah, but,” broke in Hubert, “you don’t know everything yet,” and he and
Marygold laughed mysteriously.
For before that day was done, there was another surprise in store for
Gaston. Another gift was to crown that proud day.
This was revealed, when, at the end of the banquet, all the boys
suddenly disappeared, and all the girls became too excited to be able to
answer clearly Gaston’s questions as to the boys’ movements.
Presently they re-appeared, scampering across the paddock, Jack and Phil
leading a little Welsh pony between them, with Hubert perched on its
back.
“For it’s saddled, and bridled, and shod, you see,” cried Marygold,
dancing round Gaston in wild delight, “and though it’s not much bigger
than Dragon, the watch-dog, it’s dreffully strong, and goes very fast.”
“And it’s to go back with you to France,” put in Hubert, “because,
Phoena says, a real knight _must_ have a steed.”
Gaston was beside himself with joy and astonishment.
Ever since he had seen the boys ride, the possession of a pony had been
the theme of his wildest dreams, and now he could hardly trust his eyes
and ears. It seemed as if the fairies, he still loved to believe in, had
brought him the fulfilment of his dearest wish, straight from fairyland.
The weeks at Gaybrook had been mostly sad and sorrow-stained, but now
this one golden day would gild all his memories of the English farm for
ever.
“But, but,” he cried, “who gives it me, who did think of it?”
“We have all joined together to get it for you,” said Phil, “infants and
all.”
“And Andrew sent all his year’s savings out of the bank,” said Faith.
“Poor Andrew,” said Gaston, deeply touched, “but--but how came the idea
to your heads, how came it then?”
“How did you get the idea to help Andrew?” laughed Di.
“Oh, but that was quite different,” said Gaston, “that came, because I
did know so exactly, oh, so very exactly, what he was feeling.”
“But then,” asked Marygold, in genuine astonishment, “but then, Gaston,
had you ever been tied up in a bee-hive?”
“No,” said Gaston, simply, “but I had been lonely, too.”
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
she was nurse to years ago=> she was nurse two years ago {pg 2}
their natual protectors=> their natural protectors {pg 10}
Andrew annouced after dinner=> Andrew announced after dinner {pg 29}
to be ignominously routed=> to be ignominiously routed {pg 46}
It you were one of our fellows at school=> If you were one of our
fellows at school {pg 99}
hopping and and dancing a little=> hopping and dancing a little {pg 118}
Gaston dashed passed me=> Gaston dashed past me {pg 119}
Dalzant’s Martha’s contemptuous pity=> Delzant’s Martha’s contemptuous
pity {pg 120}
pommes de terre sautèes=> pommes de terre sautées {pg 120}
teasing was quite as merciless as the boys=> teasing was quite as
merciless as the boys’ {pg 130}
By this time, Di’s curiousity=> By this time, Di’s curiosity {pg 134}
you do know all about it quite well, you only pretending not to=> you do
know all about it quite well, you are only pretending not to {pg 135}
There wouldn’t be be much real=> There wouldn’t be much real {pg 152}
said Lobbie=> said Libbie {pg 154}
It sound rather eerie, doesn’t it?=> It sounds rather eerie, doesn’t it?
{pg 155}
cried Hubert and Marygold in one breadth=> cried Hubert and Marygold in
one breath {pg 162}
These dorlorous plaints=> These dolorous plaints {pg 187}