The sky was bright and blue; a fresh breeze, invigorating and pure, came
from the distant sea; the sun, just risen above the mountain tops, shone
down with undiminished lustre on the smiling valley, and all nature
sparkled with life and light, as the young Morgans, having finished
breakfast, assembled at the hall-door to accompany their father on his
proposed walk. The elder ones remarked that he looked graver than
usual, but hoped that the fresh air and exercise would soon restore his
spirits. They all enjoyed a walk with him, for he generally took care
to make it interesting, by giving them information on one or more of the
various natural objects they met with. There was not a tree, a flower,
or a stone, about which he had not something to say which was well worth
hearing. Charles called them "Father's peripatetic lectures." This
morning, however, the Doctor was unusually silent. His daughter Anna
walked by his side, affectionately waiting, in the hopes of an
opportunity to bring forward some subject to enliven him. Charles also
accompanied him. The rest of the children kept behind, wondering where
he was going; Willie especially sauntering at some distance, and
thinking that he would rather have been out by himself or with some of
the boys with whom he had lately associated. Charles, finding that his
father was not inclined to give one of his lectures, bethought him of a
subject likely to interest him.
"I say, father, I wonder when Frank will be here. His ship was expected
at Plymouth every day. I sent a letter for him to Fox, giving him full
directions how he was to find his way here, so that if he could get
leave he might come up at once. My only fear is that he may not have
any cash for his journey. I begged Fox to advance it, but Frank may not
think of asking him. He'll have a great deal to tell us about the
Pacific and the coral islands, the Sandwich Islanders, and the other
natives, once horrible savages, now mostly Christians. And those people
of Fiji--the Black Cannibals of the Pacific as they were called--I want
to know if they are as bad as has been represented."
"Yes, your brother Frank will have much to say," remarked the Doctor,
and again relapsed into silence.
"I hope he may bring Tom Holman with him. I should like to see the man
who saved his life, that I might thank him as he deserves for his
bravery," said Anna. "Dear Frank, if it had not been for Holman we
might never have seen him again."
"Yes, indeed, I should like to see Holman, the fine and gallant fellow,"
exclaimed Charles. "The puzzle will be how to get him here. I know
that seamen have difficulty in obtaining leave till their ship is paid
off, and then there is the expense of the journey. However, I will do
my best to manage that."
"And I will help you," said Anna. "I will sell some of my fowls, and
the egg money of last year, which I have never spent, and old Mrs
Taffety's present, which mamma says I have a right to do just what I
like with. Oh, there will be no difficulty about money matters if Frank
can get leave for Tom Holman. It will be very nice to see him and to
thank him, though it will be difficult to thank him enough."
Dr Morgan had not joined in the conversation of his elder children. He
appeared to be absorbed in his own thoughts. Once or twice he glanced
round to ascertain if William was following. He continued for some time
along the road leading to the village, and then suddenly turned into a
path leading up the mountain. William began to feel not very
comfortable when he saw this. Still his father might possibly intend to
cross over the mountain. He lingered still farther behind, and when he
saw him turn off again up the uneven path which led to poor Old Moggy's
hut he was strongly inclined to run away.
Surely his father would not wish to go inside the hut. What could he
have to say to the old woman? However, go on he must. Fortunately,
Charles dropped behind the Doctor, and Anna and William hurried up to
him.
"Charley, is papa really going into the witch's den?" he exclaimed in a
tone of alarm. "She will be doing him some harm, I am sure."
"Nonsense, Willie," answered Charles. "I did not fancy that a fellow
with a head on his shoulders could be such a goose."
"Goose or no goose, I don't wish to fall into the old witch's clutches,
nor papa, nor any of us either," muttered William, as Charles walked on
again rapidly to catch up their father, and to give a helping hand to
the two younger ones. Willie's foolish fears increased when he saw his
father walk up to the door of the hut, and still more alarmed did he
become when the Doctor, lifting the latch, went in, and then turned
round and beckoned to him to enter, though Arthur and Mabel were allowed
to remain outside. Most unwillingly he obeyed; but when he got inside
the door, not a step farther could he bring himself to advance, and from
the furtive glances which he ever and anon cast through the doorway, it
was very evident that he would make his escape if he dared. Even
Charles and Anna drew back from the pitiable object which met their
sight. The light streaming through the window fell on a low pallet, on
which, covered with a sheet, lay the form of Mountain Moggy. By her
side sat Jenny Davis, whom William recognised as her champion who had
threatened him and his companions with condign punishment if they ever
again attacked the old woman. Something dreadful was going to happen--
William scarcely knew what. A glance his father cast at him made him
understand that he must not move. Of course Jenny Davis had told
everything. After exchanging a few words with Jenny, the Doctor lifted
the sheet from off Moggy's feet.
"William, come here and witness the effects of your cruelty," he said in
a stern voice, very unlike that in which he was accustomed to address
his children. "Now look at those poor burnt hands. You, and those with
you, I have no doubt, caused all the pain this poor woman is now
suffering; and should she die, at whose door, think you, will the guilt
lie?"
William could not answer. The Doctor, taking out some salves he had
brought with him, began to dress the poor creature's limbs. Anna could
not refrain from tears, while she went forward to assist her father and
kind Jenny. William stood by without uttering a word, and feeling as he
had never felt before.
When the sufferer's hands and feet were once more covered up, the Doctor
directed Charles to call in the younger children.
"Listen to what Jenny Davis will tell you," he said, when they were all
assembled round the bed.
"Ah, sir, I have a tale to tell which would soften a heart of stone; but
I hope none of these young people have hearts of that sort," remarked
Jenny, fixing her eyes on William. "She has told me how it all
happened, and it may be a warning to that young gentleman never to throw
stones at any human being, even though they may be deserted; or, for
that matter, at any living creature. They cannot tell where the stone
may strike, and what harm it may do. Well, sir, Old Moggy was sitting
at her poor fire when those cruel boys came up here again to play off
their cowardly tricks. They talk of her imps doing mischief, though
they were the imps, and they were doing the mischief, I'm thinking.
Stone after stone was thrown in on her. At last one struck the hearth
and sent a burning stick under her feet. While she stooped down to
remove it, another large one gave her a blow on the head which must have
stunned her, for she fell to the ground and her clothes began to burn.
The agony she was suffering brought her in some degree to her senses
again, when she found herself surrounded by flames, and believed that
she was going to be burnt to death. There was nobody near that she knew
of to help her, and she couldn't help herself; she knew that, so she
prayed for the help of God. Just then the door burst open, and the
young gentleman I told you of ran in, and throwing his coat over her,
put out the fire. I came in soon after, and helped to put her on the
bed. I think that the young gentleman burnt his own hands not a little
in tearing off the burning clothes which his coat couldn't cover, but he
said it was just nothing, and wouldn't let me look at them even before
he went away."
"What a brave, noble fellow!" exclaimed Charles. "I should like to have
made his acquaintance."
"So indeed should I," cried Anna. "Do not you know his name, Jenny?"
"No, my sweet miss, I don't," answered the Welshwoman. "But I think I
know where it's written, and that's where the names of the cruel, and
selfish, and heartless will never be found."
"God bless him! God bless him!" said a deep voice from the bed.
The children started; it was the voice of Old Moggy. They had not
supposed she was listening, much less that she was capable of speaking.
The rest of the children remembered William's remarks on the previous
evening, and all eyes were turned on him. He stood white as ashes, and
trembling in every limb. While they had before been speaking, the
window had been darkened by a person passing before it. William had
remarked it, and he had taken it into his head that it was that of a
person come to carry him off to prison for his misdeeds. The rest had
been so interested in what they were hearing that they had not observed
that a stranger was near them.
"Ye said that she knows the truth; ay, that she does, and practises what
the Word of Truth tells us; for instead of railing she blesses, and from
her heart forgives them who have ill-treated her," said Jenny. "Poor,
harmless, weary soul that she is! Those young ones who stand there can
know little of the sorrows and trials she has been called on to endure.
She has seen loss of parents, and property, and husband, and child, and
her good name, and all that we think makes life pleasant; and now that
she has found her way to this lone place, to die in peace, the Evil One
has made these lads come up here to mock and torment her. I mind
reading of a good prophet going to a certain village in a foreign land,
and the lads came out and mocked him, and called him old bald-head, and
what do ye think happened? Why, two she-bears came out of a wood and
destroyed forty and two of them. I don't mean to say that Old Moggy is
like the old prophet, but yet she is aged and friendless; and those who
abuse and ill-treat her are, in the eyes of the Almighty, doing a great
wickedness; that they are, I'm sure."
While Jenny was speaking, the lips of the sufferer were seen to move;
and in the same deep tones which had before been heard, the words came
forth, "but forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass
against us. Yes, yes: oh, I forgive them; they didn't know any better;
they thought I was a witch; they thought I could work charms, and had
bad power. Oh! they would not have done as they did if they had known
of my weary, weary, aching heart; my poor boy underneath the sea--my
husband drowned before my eyes--my sad, sad days, my sleepless nights--
my wandering brain--my hunger and thirst--my wretched, wretched life for
long, long lonesome years. All these things you did not know of, young
gentleman, when you and your companions threw stones at me. Don't think
I would curse you for it. No, no. Come near, my children. I bless
you, ay! from my heart, all of you. You who ill-treated me and you who
never did me harm."
Slowly and reluctantly, with awe in their countenances, the children
drew still nearer to the bed. The old woman's voice had dropped through
weakness and exhaustion, yet she continued--
"My lot has been very hard, very hard; yet I have had a Friend above who
has upheld and comforted me. And yet I have had many trials, many
trials, many trials. My brain reels and wanders. I think of my husband
and my boy, my only boy, many fathoms deep beneath the cold, cold waves,
and then my head turns and my heart changes into stone, and I forget
where I am and what has happened."
The old woman began to ramble, and suddenly burst forth in the wild song
which she had been singing on the previous evening.
Jenny Davis shook her head, observing, "She'll not be right after this
for some time. When the fit comes on her there's no more sense to be
looked for till she has had some rest."
"I will send her up a quieting draught and some wholesome food, which
will probably do her more good than any medicine," said the Doctor,
taking Anna's hand, and motioning the others to move towards the door.
William had hitherto not spoken a word. "Papa, may I take her up the
medicine and food?" he said, and big tears rolled down his cheeks.
"Yes, William, you may," was the answer.
Dr Morgan and his children had got outside the hut, and were on their
way down the steep side of the mountain, when they heard a cheery shout
behind them. Turning round, Anna instantly sprang up the hill, and in
another moment was in the arms of a young gentleman who was running down
to meet them.
"It is Frank! It is Frank!" burst from the lips of the rest.
"Why, father! Charley! who would have thought it?" cried the young
stranger, warmly greeting them; "and Willie, and Mabel, and Arthur!
What big people they have become! I little expected to have found you
so soon; and you were in that poor old woman's hut, too! Well, that is
curious! The truth is, I am lost, or rather I couldn't find you. I
mislaid Charley's letter, and though I thought I knew the name of the
place, I found, when I got into the country, that I hadn't the slightest
notion of what it was; and after wandering about for a couple of days, I
determined to write to old Evans, at Bangor, and to await his answer at
the inn on the other side of the mountain."
"Then, Frank, you are the young gentleman who saved Old Moggy's life,"
said Anna. "How delightful!"
"Oh, did I? I merely threw my jacket over the poor creature's legs, and
put out the fire which had caught her clothes and would have burnt her,"
answered the midshipman. "I am very glad I was of use, though it's not
a thing to be proud of. It was very fortunate, however, for me, for I
don't know how otherwise I should have found you. There is one thing I
should like to do, and that is to thrash the heartless young monkeys who
threw stones at the poor woman. If I can find them I will."
William looked down, overwhelmed with shame, and almost wished that
Frank _would_ thrash him.
"Then what brought you back to the hut, my boy?" asked the Doctor.
"Oh, to look after the poor old woman," said Frank, "I understood from
the nurse--Jenny Davis she told me was her name--that she has no
friends, and so I thought it was but right and proper to come back and
see how she was getting on. I dropped a bundle with some old shirts and
other things in at the window; but seeing some people there, not
dreaming that they were all of you, I of course wouldn't go in. I
waited, expecting you soon to go away, and fortunately I made you out,
or I should have gone back to my inn, and not known that I had been
close to you."
"Bless you, my boy, bless you! may you ever act in the same way from
principle, and not merely from the impulse of the heart, good as that
may be," said the Doctor, warmly, pressing Frank's hand, and undoubtedly
feeling the contrast between his conduct and that of William. "And now
let us hear something about yourself," he continued, in a more cheerful
tone than he had hitherto been speaking in.
The young sailor had plenty to talk about, though, as he remarked, he
found his words apt to block up the hatchway, he was in such a hurry to
get them out of the hold.
Charles and Anna were eager to hear about Tom Holman, and William would
have liked to hear what his brother was saying, but, in shame, he hung
back some way behind the rest, and when they reached the house his
father told him to go to his room, and wait there till summoned Frank
saw that there was something wrong, but forbore to inquire, hoping soon
to have an opportunity of pleading for the culprit.
"Ah, that comes, whatever it is, of his being brought up by old Becky Ap
Reece," he thought to himself. "I am heartily glad he is free of her,
though he may never get a farthing of her money. He was a plucky little
chap, and with good training something might be made of him; but she
treated him like one of her poodles, and would soon have made him of no
more use in the world than a puppy dog."
Though Frank Morgan was thoughtful, he was one of the merriest fellows
under the sun, and among the lightest of heart though not of head.
Frank's return brought life and spirit into the house; for Charles,
though highly esteemed, was grave and somewhat reserved; Anna was sedate
and quiet; and William, since his return home, had been very
troublesome, and was looked upon generally as an arrant pickle; while
the Doctor and Mrs Morgan were so much occupied that they were unable
to think of amusements for their children. Everything, however, was to
give way in order to make Frank enjoy his short visit at home; and
picnics and several pleasant excursions were planned that he might find
the time as pleasant as possible.