NANCE'S STORY (_continued_)
'At the first glance,' continued Nance, 'the poor woman thought that it
was all Robin's doing, but in another moment she saw that was
impossible. The boy was only half-dressed and had plainly not been
outside, and he was looking quite as surprised as the rest.
'"Mother, mother," cried Robin, "where has it all come from? Did you get
up in the night? Has any one been here?"
'His mother was too surprised herself to know what to say. She glanced
round at the children.
'"Let us get dressed quick and have some of this beautiful breakfast,"
said the little girls, "we are so hungry;" and the baby held out its
arms and crowed, and then the mother bethought herself of the little
visitor of the night before. She was the only one who had not been
awakened by Robin's cry of joy--there she was still sleeping soundly,
with a smile on her little fair face.
'"She has brought us good luck," said Robin and his mother, "whoever she
is, and wherever she came from."
'But wonderful as it was they were too hungry to keep on thinking about
it, and soon they were all seated round the table, enjoying themselves
as they hadn't done for many a day.
'And that wasn't the end of it either. When the good woman carried the
remains of the breakfast into the lean-to where their food was kept,
when they had any, what did she find but a beautiful cut of bacon and a
bowl full of eggs.
'"Why, Robin," she said, "there'd be no fear of our starving now, even
if we couldn't cross the moor," and she looked out as she spoke, but the
weather had taken a turn for the better, and Robin was able to go to his
work with a light heart, feeling strong and fresh after his good night's
rest and his good meal.
'"And you'll ask all about," said his mother, "if any one has lost their
child. There must be sore hearts somewhere, I'm afraid," and she lifted
the tiny waif for Robin to kiss her before he set off.
'But ask as he might there was nothing to be heard of a strayed child,
and as the day went on the boy felt more and more puzzled. He had plenty
to think of that day, for, to his great surprise, the farmer for whom he
worked told him that he was so pleased with his industry and good-nature
that, be the weather what it would that winter through, he might count
on regular work and better wages.
'Robin was so eager to carry this news to his mother that he could
scarce wait till the time came for him to go home, and once he set off
'twas more like dancing across the moor than walking, so happy did he
feel.
'"And even if we can't find the baby's friends," he thought to himself,
"mother'll be able to keep her, and glad to do it too, seeing the good
luck she's brought us."
'As this passed through his mind he stopped short and looked about him.
'Twas just about the place where he had heard the cry the night before,
but the evening was mild and clear, and though the sun had set it was
not cloudy, and as the moon came sailing up he could see a long way
round him, and what breeze there was, was soft and gentle compared to
the storm wind of yesterday. And just then a sudden sound reached him.
No cry of trouble this time, but a burst of pretty laughter, ringing
and joyous as if it came from some little child bubbling over with
fun--and mischief too! It seemed to be just in front of him, then just
behind, then just at one side, then at the other. Wherever he turned it
came from a different point, till he felt half-provoked to be so
tricked. So he ran on at last all the faster, thinking he was bewitched,
till he got within sight of his home, and there, coming to meet him, was
his mother, with a look on her face half-pleased, half-vexed.
"She's gone, Robin," she called out, "the pretty baby's gone. But
there's no call to be afraid for her. She ran off when she was playing
with your little sisters in front of the house, and chase her as we
might, we couldn't catch her. She danced away like a will-o'-the-wisp,
laughing as I've never heard a child laugh, so fine and pretty and
mischievous it was. And I've bethought me what it means. 'Twas the day
for the moor-fairies to show themselves, it comes but once in seven
years, and we've been in luck indeed."
'Then Robin told her of the laughing he, too, had heard, and of the good
news he was bringing, and together they went on to the cottage, thankful
that they had not missed the chance which had come to them by fear or
selfishness. And from that day for seven years to come anyhow it did
seem as if they were specially befriended, everything went well with
them, and so far as I remember what my grandmother said, this good turn
helped Robin on through his life. He was a grandfather himself when he
told the story, much respected through the country-side--a good, kind
man, as he had been a good, kind boy.'
Nance stopped. Rosamond gave a sigh of satisfaction.
'What a pretty story,' she said, 'and how nicely you've told it--Mrs.
Crag,' for she did not quite know what to call the old woman.
Nance smiled, well pleased. It was true; she had a real gift for
story-telling, and though her accent sounded strange, her words were so
correctly chosen, and her whole tone had so much charm about it, that it
was almost difficult to believe that she had not at some time of her
life been in a much better position than now.
'I'm right glad that you've liked my old story,' she said. 'But don't
call me Mrs. Crag, missie dear; it doesn't suit me. Say "Nance," like
the young gentlemen. I've plenty more stories packed away somewhere in
my head that I can get out for you if you care to hear them.'
'I wonder,' said Pat, 'if the fairies were seen again ever? Do you think
they kept coming back every seven years, Nance?'
The old woman shook her head.
'I can't say, Master Pat,' she replied, 'but I'm afraid those days are
over now, the world's too changed, and all the new-fangled ways frighten
the good people away.'
'Do you think there were ever fairies on _this_ moor?' said Archie. 'It
says in our story-books that there are ever so many different kinds,
some in forests, some in brooks and rivers, but I never heard of moor
ones before. Are you sure, Nance, that if we sat up all night, or got up
very, very early in the morning some particular day, we mightn't see
something queer, or hear something? Like the boy, Johnnie-- Somebody?
who climbed up the mountain on Midsummer's eve.'
'No, no, Master Archie,' said Nance. 'Times are changed, as I told you.
You'd catch nothing but a bad cold. You mustn't try any of those tricks,
my dear, or you'll be getting old Nance into trouble for filling your
head with nonsense, and then you'd not be let come to see me, which
would be sad for me,' and she gave a little sigh. 'Promise me, you'll
never do anything your dear papa and mamma wouldn't like.'
Archie laughed.
'I was really half joking,' he said. 'I know there aren't really any
fairies, nowadays anyway. Pat, don't you go and tell Justin what I was
saying, or he'd make fun of me.'
'I'm not going to,' said Pat. 'Jus doesn't care about things like that.'
'I think they're lovely,' said Miss Mouse. 'Fancying about pretty things
is almost as nice as having them really, don't you think?'
There was no time, however, for any more talk, for at that moment
Justin, followed by Bob, made his appearance at the door.
'I say,' he called out, 'I'm going home, and you'd better all come with
me.'
'It's not late,' objected Pat, who was feeling very comfortable and
disinclined to move, 'and we had leave to stay out later.'
'I can't help it,' said Justin. '_I_ want to go back now. I've a reason
for it. I'll tell you about it as we go.'
The others had to give in to him, as was generally the case. They all
said good-bye to their old friend, Rosamond holding up her little face
to be kissed as she thanked Nance again, for which she was rewarded by a
hearty--'Bless you, my sweet,' and then the whole party of children set
off for Moor Edge, Bob making one of them.
'Why is he coming?' said Pat in a low voice to Justin, nodding his head
backwards towards Bob, who was walking behind them.
'That's what I've got to tell you about,' said Justin in the same tone.
'It's about the ferrets. He's found a splendid pair after a lot of
bother, but he must have the money. You've got yours ready, I suppose?'
'Bother,' said Pat. 'I don't care about the nasty little beasts. I did
hope you'd give them up.'
'But you promised,' said Justin, ready to be angry. 'I've never spoken
of giving them up, and you offered the money at the first. You seemed as
if you wanted to have them as much as I did.'
'I'm not going back from my promise,' said Pat, half-sulkily,
remembering his Aunt Mattie's advice to try to show more interest in the
things Justin cared for. 'You can have the money whenever you like,' he
went on in a brighter tone, as he remembered also that the ferrets,
being kept at Bob's, would be a certain reason for frequent visits to
the cottage, and more of Nance's stories; 'but do you mean,' he added,
'that we've got money enough to pay for them?'
Justin hesitated.
'No, of course not,' he said at last, 'your own sense might tell you
that. We've not got much more than half.'
'Then they must be dearer than you thought at first,' said Pat sturdily.
'I remember quite well you counting that you'd have nearly enough.'
'But these are far better ones,' said Justin. 'You must expect to pay
more for a better thing. They won't hurry about the rest of the money
once they've got half, or rather more than half.'
'You'll have to pay up some time or other though,' said Pat. 'And I
don't know where you'll get it from. _I_ can't go on giving you all my
pocket-money. There are other things I want to get.'
'Wait till you're asked,' said Justin sharply. 'I can manage my own
affairs.'
Pat thought it better to say no more, though in his heart he did not
think Justin's talk of independence was very well-timed. He did grudge
the money now that the first feeling of generosity had had time to cool
down. But he felt there was no help for it.
When they got to their own gate Justin told Bob to wait about outside
till he came back again. This surprised Rosamond a little; it struck her
as scarcely kind to the boy, who on his side had been so hospitable. But
she said nothing, only when bidding Bob good-bye, she held out her hand
to him, repeating how much she had liked her visit to the cottage. And
from that moment Bob's wild, warm heart was completely won by the little
lady.
They were not as late as Miss Ward had laid her account to their perhaps
being, still, schoolroom tea was half over before Justin and Pat made
their appearance, and both came in looking rather cross. Miss Ward
glanced at them, seeming slightly annoyed.
'As you came in in good time,' she said, 'you should have come to tea
punctually. Rosamond and Archie have been here for ten minutes at least.
What have you been doing?'
The boys sat down without replying.
'Has Bob gone?' asked Miss Mouse innocently.
Justin glanced at her with a frown, and Pat, who was seated next to
her, touched her foot under the table with his. She looked up in
surprise, but nothing more was said, Miss Ward not having noticed the
little girl's question. Tea was proceeding peacefully, though rather
more silently than usual, when the door opened and Mrs. Caryll looked
in.
'Are you nearly ready, dear?' she said to Rosamond, after a word of
greeting to Miss Ward and the elder boys, whom she had not seen before
that day. 'It's getting rather late.'
Rosamond jumped up.
'I can come now, auntie,' she said. 'I've had quite enough tea.' But
this Mrs. Caryll would not allow.
'I can wait five or ten minutes longer,' she said, looking at her watch.
'Perhaps Miss Ward can spare me a cup of tea.'
Miss Ward was delighted to do so, and Archie was on his feet in an
instant, ringing the bell and then running out into the passage to save
time by meeting the servant and asking for another cup and saucer.
'And have you had a pleasant afternoon?' said Aunt Mattie, when she was
seated at the table. 'Have you no adventures to tell me about, Jus? or
you, Pat?'
She looked at the two boys a little curiously, for she had noticed that
they were silent and rather gloomy.
'It was all right,' said Justin in his somewhat surly way. 'We didn't
keep together all the time. I don't know what the others were doing.'
'Oh! it was lovely,' exclaimed Rosamond, 'Pat and Archie and I were----'
'Miss Mouse does so like the moor,' interrupted Pat, 'though there
wasn't any sunset to speak of this evening.'
And again Rosamond felt a warning touch on her foot as Pat went on
talking rather eagerly about the sunsets that were sometimes to be seen,
which interested his aunt, and turned the conversation from what the
children had been about that special afternoon.
The little girl felt uneasy and perplexed. Were the boys afraid of her
'tale-telling,' as they called it? And even if she had told everything
that had happened that afternoon, what harm would it have done, or who
could have found fault with it? Nothing could have been prettier or
nicer than Nance's story, and Rosamond felt sure that she was a good old
woman. She had been so afraid of their doing anything that Mr. and Mrs.
Hervey might not like too, and her whole manner showed how much respect
she felt for the boys' parents.
'I'm _sure_,' thought Miss Mouse, 'nobody could think it wasn't nice for
us to go there. I don't understand what the boys mean. I suppose it's
just that they've different ways from girls, and like to be very
independent. And I promised them I wouldn't tell things over if they'd
rather I didn't. So I won't, unless of course it was anything _wrong_,
and then I'd have to, but I'd first tell them what I meant to do.'
And with this decision in her mind the little girl's face cleared, and
she felt quite happy again.
She was bright and cheerful during the drive home, so that the very
slight misgiving which the elder boys' manner had caused Mrs. Caryll
quite faded away, and she talked happily to her little niece of plans
for other half-holidays. It would be nice sometimes, she said, to invite
the Moor Edge party to Caryll for a change, 'though,' as she added with
a smile, 'they all say they don't care for anything there half as much
as for running wild on their dear moor.'
'The moor _is_ nice, isn't it, auntie?' said Rosamond. 'Such a
beautiful place for fancying things, with its being so wild and lonely.'
'You mustn't get your little head too full of fancies,' said her aunt.
'Has Pat been entertaining you with his pet stories? It is a pity that
he and Justin cannot be mixed up together, one is so much too dreamy,
and the other too rough and ready. But I hoped they were getting on
better together lately, though I was rather disappointed this evening,
Justin looked so cross.'
'I think Pat tries to be very nice to Justin,' said Miss Mouse. 'And
Justin wasn't at all cross when we were out.'
'I'm glad to hear it,' said her aunt. 'There is certainly room for
improvement in him. But I trust it is beginning. He has never been rude
or unkind to you, dear, I hope?'
'Oh no, auntie, though of course I've not seen much of him till to-day,'
answered Rosamond. 'I like him quite well--though not so much as Archie,
or--' with a little hesitation--'or Pat.'