A BATTLE, AND ITS RESULT.
"I AM glad to see you able to come on deck, Miss Petty," said Harold,
on the following morning, when the old lady, looking paler and more
wrinkled than she had done on the preceding day, made her way to a
bench. "We have had a wonderfully quiet night for the Channel; Neptune
is treating us kindly."
"I don't know what you mean by a quiet night," was the peevish reply;
"and his name is not Neptune but Gump."
Harold did not consider himself obliged to correct the old lady's
mistake, and suppressed the smile which rose to his lips.
"I was as miserable as I could be!" continued Miss Petty. "I was boxed
up in a swinging cage which would not keep steady for a minute, and
with a cat for a companion!"
"A cat?" repeated Harold.
"Yes; a cat, a wild cat—a tiger cat!" exclaimed the Lammikin's
guardian, looking angrily in the direction of Shelah, who was standing
staring at the man at the wheel. "There were two berths—that's what
they call them—one over the other. I've never had Master Robin's fancy
for climbing, so I chose the lower berth for myself, and helped the
child up to hers as well as I could. I bade Shelah keep quiet and go to
sleep. I was just dropping off myself, in spite of the sickening motion
of the ship, when down comes a foot on my nose, and before I have time
to so much as cry out, there is Miss Mischief with a bang on the cabin
floor, as if she had taken a flying leap, and had fallen flat on her
face! She roared, and I left her to roar; I was not going to hoist her
up again, to go tumbling about like a monkey. I've made up my mind to
one thing; never—no, never—take charge of a child on ship-board again!"
Harold looked concerned, but it was not on account of the trials
endured by the guardian. He felt that poor Shelah had not a chance of
learning the sweetness of Christian love whilst under the care of one
who knew it only by name.
"I wish to speak to you on a different subject, Miss Petty," said
Harold Hartley. "Captain Gump, I regret to say, resolutely sets his
face against religious services here, and his commands are lawn on his
deck. But no one can prevent Christian passengers from reading and
praying together in the saloon, and I hope that some few will unite
in asking for a blessing on all on board, and listening to a short
exposition from the Word of God. Mrs. Evendale suggested our holding
this little meeting, and we have fixed on twelve o'clock as our hour.
Will you let us count you among our number?"
Miss Petty hesitated, but only for a moment. She cared not for
religious meetings in themselves, but she knew that something of the
sort was considered respectable even by the world. Theresa also wished
to keep up close intercourse with the Hartleys, who were the only ones
amongst the gentlemen on board who did not either treat her with silent
neglect or make her the butt of rude jokes. To those unrestrained by
Christian courtesy, it was difficult not to laugh at poor, selfish,
silly Miss Petty, and the old dame and her Lammikin were already
by-words on board.
"I should be charmed to come," said Miss Petty, "if there were any one
else to take care of that mischievous magpie; one never knows what she
will be at."
Shelah was busy at the moment in trying to uncoil a bit of rope, and
pull it to pieces.
"Bring Shelah with you," suggested Harold.
Miss Petty shrugged her shoulders to express how impossible it would
be to do anything, or listen to anything, if Shelah were allowed to be
present. But the guardian made no other reply.
Mrs. Evendale was sitting in her former place, Robin not far-away,
leaning over the side of the vessel as if watching the waves, but
really absorbed in listening. While the widow was plying her needle, in
a low melodious voice she was singing to herself, quite unconscious of
a listener near. The air which she sang was plaintive and sweet:
MISSIONARY HYMN.
"For Thy sake,
And in Thy name,
We offerings make—
Lord! Send down flame!
"With Thy Word
We face the foe,
We grasp the sword,—
Lord! Speed the blow!
"For Thy love
We scatter grain;
Lord! From above
Send down the rain!
"Through life's hour
To work be mine;
The glory, power,
The harvest—Thine!"
"Forgive me for listening," said Robin, as the song ceased; "I am
passionately fond of music, and could listen to you for hours."
"Music is a great solace to me," said the lady. "It has been well
observed that hymns are like wings,—they bear us up towards heaven."
"Is that hymn printed in any collection?" asked Robin.
"Scarcely could it be so," replied Mrs. Evendale, with a faint smile,
"as it was the outcome of a sleepless hour last night."
"And the air also?" asked young Hartley.
"No; the simple air is one which I learned in childhood from my
grandmother. She was of Italian birth, and sang what the Tuscan
peasants sing."
"Might I ask you to sing again, and let my brother listen also?" said
Robin, as Miss Petty and Harold approached. Shelah was kneeling on a
bench at a little distance, looking at bits of brown sea-weed floating
below in the sea.
Mrs. Evendale made room on her bench for Miss Petty, and again softly
began to sing. But this time the lady chose a well-known English hymn
in which the Hartleys could join. Theresa Petty would greatly have
preferred gossip, in which she herself was an adept, for the most
soul-elevating hymn could not lift her spirit from earth.
Instead of listening, Miss Petty sat watching the movements of Shelah,
and before the first verse of the hymn was finished, the guardian
started up with almost a scream.
"Oh! The mischievous minx! If she has not thrown her own hat overboard!"
"It's my boat; see how it floats!" cried Shelah, clapping her hands.
"You goose! You donkey!" exclaimed the indignant guardian. "Your new
Leghorn—trimmed with real lace! Where are you to get another hat for
the voyage?"
"Don't want one," cried Shelah saucily, shaking her fiery locks. The
child thought her covering of thick, untidy hair quite sufficient for
comfort.
"You may not want one now," observed Harold Hartley, "but the
protection of a hat will be quite necessary when we encounter the heat
of the tropics."
"You'll have sun-stroke, and coup-de-soleil, and fall down in a fit!"
cried Miss Petty. "And what will your father and mother say to me after
all the trouble I've taken with their child!"
Robin good-naturedly clapped his own wide-awake over the little girl's
head; but the hat being much too large for Shelah, it extinguished her
forehead and eyes, only arrested by the turned-up tip of her nose.
Shelah pulled off the wide-awake, and laughed as she flung it back to
its owner.
"I think that I can improvise something which will at least keep out
the heat," said Mrs. Evendale, after some minutes' consideration. "I
have a round, fancy basket below, which is, I think, about the right
size for the crown of a hat, and I could quilt a brim if I had proper
materials. Ah! This will supply both the wadding and silk," and the
lady drew from behind her a small red cushion which had been given for
a comfort during the voyage. "The gay colour will not matter on the
head of a child."
"I like gay colours," said Shelah; "I won't throw your hat into the
sea."
Mrs. Evendale gave no hint that the basket was one which she prized, or
that the cushion was one that she would miss; a weakness in her back
making the pillow almost a necessary to the widow. Mrs. Evendale went
down to the cabin for her workbox and basket, and after removing the
handle from the latter, tried it on the head of Shelah O'More.
"Nothing could fit better," observed Miss Petty.
The widow then sat down to cut up her cushion, and begin a puzzling
task for the benefit of a disagreeable child, who was not likely even
to think of thanks.
To make the quilted covering took hours, but they were pleasant hours
to the widow, for, as she plied scissors or needle, she and the
Hartleys conversed together on the theme of that love to God which
makes us love our brother also. It is that love which pours itself
forth in deeds of kindness, as the sun sheddeth forth rays, and
apparently with as little effort.
Miss Petty had gone down below, and Shelah for a time was quiet, making
up for her restless night by having a sleep on the deck, wrapped up
snugly in Mrs. Evendale's travelling rug.
When Shelah awoke, and Miss Petty's gay bonnet again appeared on deck,
the hat was finished. It was certainly a most original hat, the colour
of the cushion having been scarlet, and it was soft and sun-proof,
and—at least, so thought Robin—had a peculiar grace of its own,
imparted by the worker, not by the wearer.
"A regular cardinal's hat," observed Harold. "What do you say to Mrs.
Evendale for her kindness?" he added, as the lady tied the strings
firmly under the chin of the child, and then gave her a kiss, rather to
the surprise of both Miss Petty and Shelah herself.
"I'll say she's a good kind woman," answered the girl.
"Oh! That's not the way to speak of a lady!" exclaimed Miss Petty, who
prided herself on her knowledge of forms of politeness, and thought
that the word "woman" conveyed an insult.
"I won't say it of you," observed Shelah.
"I hope not indeed!" exclaimed Miss Petty.
"I'll say you're a cross bad woman!" cried the saucy child, with a look
of defiance.
Miss Petty had already almost exhausted her zoological vocabulary on
her troublesome Lammikin, but she had still one shaft left. "You little
toad!" she cried, seizing the child by the arm, and dragging her by
force towards the companion ladder. "I will shut you up in the cabin, I
will, and you shall have no dinner till you humbly beg my pardon."
Shelah resisted, struggled, kicked and roared, and Miss Petty had
no easy task to get her downstairs; but her guardian was resolute,
especially as she heard some of the passengers laughing at the battle,
and laying bets as to who would win it.
"This is painful," observed Mrs. Evendale, who longed to interpose, but
felt that she had no right to do so.
"Miss Petty will ruin that child's temper," said Harold.
"And crack her voice; just hear how she screams!" added Robin.
The roaring was too loud to go on very long. In about five minutes
it was succeeded by silence, and Miss Petty emerged from below, much
ruffled in temper, and very red in the face.
"I've shut her in—she can't get out—I'll bring her into order, it's the
only way to deal with such wild beasts," said the guardian, seating
herself by Mrs. Evendale, and fanning herself with her handkerchief
after her fight.
"Miss Petty, would you allow me to try if I can bring Shelah to
herself?" said Mrs. Evendale, in a gentle, courteous manner.
"You'll never manage a child, you are a deal too soft," observed Miss
Petty.
"I have brought up children," began the bereaved mother, but she could
not finish the sentence, her voice faltered, and her eyes filled with
tears.
"Let Mrs. Evendale try how she can manage," said Robin; and he thought
to himself, "I am sure, that one reproving look from that sweet face
would have had more effect with me when I was a child, than any amount
of beating and abuse."
"Oh! Let Mrs. Evendale try what she can do!" exclaimed Theresa, wishing
from her heart that the stranger would take full possession of the
child, so long as all the credit and profit pertaining to the office of
a guardian should fall to her own share.
Mrs. Evendale rose, crossed part of the deck, and descended the
companion ladder. She proceeded to No. 6, but found the sliding door of
that cabin secured from without by a piece of strong tape.
With some difficulty, the lady unfastened the knot; she then pushed
back the door and entered the cabin just in time to see Shelah's booted
feet projecting inwards from the port-hole, which she blocked up with
her little body. The next instant the feet vanished, the port-hole
was clear, there was the sound of a splash in the sea below, and
the terror-stricken lady rushed up on deck, with the cry, "A child
overboard!" ringing in her ears.