WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE
"Land O' Goshen, you don't tell me you're cruisin' down to the Cape all
by yourself! Now, ain't that exciting! And you never been there before,
y'say?"
Sidney nodded, sitting very straight on the seat, her hand closed
tightly over her purse which contained all that was left of the Egg
after purchasing her tickets. Her face perceptibly brightened. Others
had talked to her during the long journey but they had had a way of
saying "brave little girl" that had been annoying and that had not
helped the lump that persisted in rising in her throat.
This stranger Sidney felt was himself from the Cape. He was big and
broad and had bushy white whiskers that encircled a very red face. From
his booming voice she knew he must have commanded a ship; perhaps he
knew Ezekiel Green and the _Betsy King_. She smiled shyly at him as he
slid into the seat beside her. They were leaving Plymouth behind.
"Goin' to Provincetown? Well, now, that's about as far as you _can_ go,
'lowin' you ain't goin' to Race P'int Light, by chance. You be careful
that no pirates come 'long and ship and stow you in the fo'castle!
There's a-plenty of 'em 'round these waters yet."
"Of course I know there aren't really pirates--but what's a--a
fo'castle?"
Her new friend roared. "Bless the heart of the little landlubber! Why,
the--the fo'castle's the--the fo'castle--for'ard of the fo'mast. And
don't you be too sure about the pirates--you ask Jed Starrow if there
ain't! Only they don't run up their flag no more--I guess the black
sky's _their_ flag."
"Have they any treasure buried on the Cape?" Sidney ventured.
The old seaman started to laugh again, then smothered it by a big hand
at his whiskers. "Now I won't say they have or they haven't. The Cape
ought to be full of it. And these here pirates I speak of bury their
treasures somewheres--jest where's the business of Uncle Sam's men to
find out." He struck his chest proudly and Sidney caught the gleam of a
badge pinned to one of the red straps of his suspenders. He saw that
she had glimpsed it; doubtless he had intended she should.
"Special deputy marshal--I'm Cap'n Phin Davies of Wellfleet, retired,
you might say--at Uncle Sam's command."
"Oh, I guessed you'd sailed a ship. Do you--did you know the Greens?"
"Greens? There's Greens all over the Cape. But I reckon I know 'most
everyone in these parts and if I don't, Elizy does--"
"Ezekiel Green sailed the _Betsy King_--" enlightened Sidney.
"Old Zeke? Why, sure as spatter! Well, well! I might say I was brought
up on stories about Zeke Green. My father overhauled the _Betsy King_
for Zeke. Zeke's folks any folks of yours?" turning suddenly to Sidney.
Sidney explained that they were--that she was Sidney Romley of
Middletown, going now to visit her Cousin Achsa, whom she had never
seen and of whom she knew little.
"You don't say. My, my, comin' all this way. So Achsa's livin', is she?
Zeke's boy died, near as I can remember. I rec'lect a benefit they had
for his widow. She was a Wellfleet girl. Seems to me she died, too.
Yes, she did--suddenly, when her baby was born. Can't rec'lect whether
the baby lived or not. Don't pay much time to those things, don't have
to for Elizy does it well enough for the two of us. Ain't anything on
the Cape Elizy misses. Comes to me though that I heard her say
something about that kid--sure does. I remember that benefit like it
was last night. I'd just come ashore from a long v'yage and was rigged
from t'mast to mizzen for a night at Potter's with the boys and Elizy
puts me into a b'iled shirt and makes me hitch up the hoss and drive to
that benefit. I guess I ought 'er remember it."
He was too deep in his own reminiscences to observe the effect of his
words upon Sidney. So Cousin Asabel was dead! And they had had a
benefit for his widow. Sidney did not know just what a benefit was but
the sound of the word connected it in her brain with the League and the
mortgage. She wished Cap'n Phin Davies could remember whether the baby
had lived or not.
"If it had lived--I mean that baby--how old would it be, now?"
"Oh--yes--the baby. Let's see. That benefit must a' been all a' sixteen
or seventeen year ago. It was the last trip I made on the _Valiant_.
Yep, the last. Elizy'd know for sartin sure, though. Ain't many dates
she can't remember down to the minit. There's somethin' about that kid
of Green's I've heard Elizy tell--" He turned suddenly to Sidney:
"You're comin' down to this part of the country to visit what's left of
your folks hereabouts and you don't know nothin' 'bout them? Seems to
me some one ought 'a shipped with you. Now I wish 'twas Elizy and me
you was comin' to visit. I sartin' do. Elizy likes little girls--we've
often wished we had a boat's crew of 'em. What's the use I tell her of
havin' a house as big as a four-masted schooner and nary a chick or a
child in it. I tell you, you ask your auntie or whatever she is to let
you come over and stay a spell with us. Wellfleet ain't so far. I'll
tell Elizy. You'll come, now, won't you? Anyone can tell you which is
Phin Davies' house--ain't any much finer on the Cape."
"Is it square--and white--and on an eminence?"
"Eh? If it's a hill you mean, you're right. I told Elizy after I'd made
my last v'yage she could build anything she had her heart set on but
it'd got to be where I could smell the harbor. Got a lookout atop where
you can see the boats when they sail round the Point." A faintly
wistful note shaded the rugged voice. "You tell folks in Provincetown
that you're a friend of Cap'n Phin Davies and I guess you can just
about have anything you want in the town. There's a few of us old
fellows left!"
As the train carried them further upon the Cape a boyish excitement
seized the old man. He declared that, though he'd only been in Boston
three or four days, it was as good as "moorin' from a long v'yage." He
pointed out to Sidney the places and things of interest they were
passing. Through his eyes Sidney saw the beauty of the old, elm-shaped
villages, the rich meadow lands, the low-lying salt marshes, the
sand-bars gleaming against stretches of blue water. Cap'n Phin Davies
seemed to know something, and it was nearly always funny, about every
one who lived in the quaint houses set here and there under century old
trees. Wellfleet came all too soon.
"Now don't forget, Missy, you're coming to visit old Phin Davies. I'll
tell Elizy. And keep an eye to wind'ard for those pirates!"
"Gosh all fish hooks," he exclaimed to his Elizy a half hour later, as
he divested himself of his Sunday coat and vest and sprawled his great
hulk in his own easy chair, "don't know as I've ever seen a cuter
little girl--and comin' all this way by herself to visit what's left of
Zeke Green's folks."
In her way Elizy Davies registered sincere horror. "You don't say! Why,
all there _is_ is old Achsa and that poor Lavender! Now, you don't say!
The little thing--"
With Cap'n Phin's going Sidney was engulfed in a terrifying loneliness.
The lump swelled in her throat again. She tried desperately to rally
something of that splendid excitement with which she had started on her
journey, to thrill again over the assembled belongings in the old
satchel, some things Isolde's and some Trude's and some even Vick's.
The girls had been very kind and generous with her. But in spite of her
valiant efforts her spirits sank lower and lower. She had come so far,
she had sat through so many lonely hours that all that had happened
back at Middletown seemed now to belong to someone else--some other
Sidney Romley. Strong within her mounted an apprehension at what
awaited her at her journey's end.
But there was a chance the "baby" _had_ lived; Cap'n Davies had said
it'd be about sixteen. Sidney hoped it was a boy--a boy cousin would be
such fun. And he'd be more likely to have a boat. In order to keep from
thinking that the low dunes of sand and marsh, shrouded in twilight
haze, through which they now were passing were very dreary she held
stubbornly to her speculations concerning the "baby." She was tired and
hungry. The lump was growing very big and hurt. When, as she finally
followed her fellow passengers off the train and along a bustling
platform she heard a pleasant voice ask: "Is this Sidney Romley?" she
gave an involuntary little gasp of relief.
"Oh, are you my cousin?"
Dugald Allan took her bag. "Well, yes, if both of us belonging to Aunt
Achsa can make us cousins. Are you tired? It's an endless journey--you
think you are never going to get here, don't you? Did you have any
fears that you'd just ride off into the ocean? You had a coolish day."
As he talked he piloted her through the crowd, a crowd that startled
Sidney after those miles of twilight loneliness. "It's always like this
toward the week-end," he apologized. "But Sunset Lane is quiet enough.
I've old Dobbin here and the one-hoss shay. Hoist this up, will you,
Toby?" he addressed a lanky barefooted boy who slouched upon the
driver's high seat.
As they creaked and swayed down the sandy road Sidney turned searching
eyes again upon her companion.
"I mean--are you the baby that was born? You see, Captain Phin Davies
told me--"
"Oh, you mean Lavender. No--I am not Lavender. I just live with Aunt
Achsa summers; wouldn't that make me a--sort of half-nephew?"
"But there _is_ a cousin?" Sidney drew a quick breath. "You see
everything's so strange to me that I have to put it all together, like
a picture puzzle. And it will be _nice_ having someone young in the
picture. Then you're--you're--a sort of boarder?" Her voice rose,
hesitatingly.
"I suppose so. Though Aunt Achsa holds me as one of the family and I
hope you will, too, when you get that picture put together. What do you
think of our Cape?"
"Oh, it's wonderful! Only--" Sidney had to be honest. "I didn't like it
so well until Captain Phin Davies made me see what was so nice about
it. You see I expected to see a stern and rock-bound coast."
At this Allan laughed. "We'll have to find one for you, won't we? Well,
wait until you see the back shore. Toby's taking a short-cut home. I
expect he knows Aunt Achsa has the finest dinner you ever tasted
waiting for us--we'll be there in two seconds now."
Two seconds--and her journey would be over, her adventure begun. Again
that apprehension mounted sweeping before it even her hope of the big
house on an eminence. She was scarcely conscious of anything they were
passing. The dusk had deepened, enveloping them like a heavy veil. She
heard her companion say: "This is Sunset Lane." Then, with a great
jolt, the ancient equipage stopped. "Here we are--and there's Aunt
Achsa watching for us!"
They were so close to the house that Sidney almost could have jumped
from the step of the carriage to the threshold. All about her she felt
rather than saw crowding flowers. And in the open door silhouetted
against a glow of lamplight waited a very small, brown old lady.
Ascha Green fluttered out to meet Sidney and touched the girl with shy
hands.
"Well, well, you're here. Don't seem true. Let old Achsa look at you,
child. Annie's girl. Come in. Come right in. I expect you're tuckered
out and hungry, too. Lavender, come and meet your new cousin."
Sidney's glance shot across the room to the boy who huddled back of the
stove, regarding her with shy dark eyes. And as quickly it dropped
before what she saw. Ascha Green, watching, sensed her involuntary
shudder.
"He's strange," Aunt Achsa hurried to explain, a tremble in her voice,
"but he'll make friends fast 'nough. Goodness knows he ain't talked of
much else than a new cousin's comin' sence we got your letter. This is
your room, Sidney, right here handy and mebbe you'll like to wash up
while I put supper on the table. Here, take this candle; it's darkened
up fast."
The "boarder" had already carried Sidney's bag into the little room
that opened directly out of the parlor. Aunt Achsa, after bustling her
in, closed the door quickly between them.
It was the smallest room Sidney had ever seen. Why, she could reach out
from just where she was standing and touch the ceiling or anyone of the
walls. And it was the neatest. The small panes of the window twinkled
at her between starched muslin curtains, coarse but immaculate towels
covered the washstand and the highboy that stood at each side of the
window. Another white towel Achsa had tacked on the wall behind the
washbowl and under the oval mirror. A cushion, much faded from many
washings, she had tied to the back of the straight rush-bottomed chair
at the foot of the bed. A smell of strong soap hung in the air.
Sidney could not know that the highboy was priceless, that the two blue
vases which Achsa had risked leaving on top of it had come from a
Spanish port a century before, that the woven cover on the bed had the
date of its making in one corner, that the hooked rug on the floor
could have brought Achsa a hundred dollars any time she wanted to sell
it; her eyes were too brimming with tears to notice the flowers that
grew to her window-sill and peeped over it at her their bright heads
nodding to the candle gleam. The lump that had been growing and growing
mastered her. She drew a long-quivering breath. She had come all the
way from home for _this_. _This_ was her great adventure!
Oh, it was too humiliating, too cruel! That dreadful old woman--if
she'd only had a broom she would have looked just like a witch. And in
a few minutes she'd open the door and make her go out into the kitchen
and eat supper with them. They were going to eat in the kitchen. She
had seen the table. And the boarder--nice people in Middletown did not
keep boarders. And, oh, that dreadful Lavender and his big eyes,
staring at her--that was the cousin! And she could not telegraph Trude
until tomorrow at the earliest--
She could not cry. She must not. If she began she'd never stop. She
knew now that the tears had been starting deep down within her miles
back on her long journey. Her teeth bit into her quivering lip. She
went to the little window and leaned her face against its frame. The
fragrant salt-laden air caressed her hot face and soothed her.
"Shame on you, Sidney Romley," she finally muttered. "Remember you're
fifteen. And you _wanted_ to come--no one made you! Anyway--" She
addressed a rose that was wagging its pink head at her in an
understanding way and that certainly had not been there a moment
before! "Anyway, I'll bet it won't be a _bit_ worse than traveling with
fat, cross old Godmother Jocelyn!"