THE SHADOW TURNS TO SUNSHINE.
Polly stood by her window looking out with a happy face.
Barby glanced up from her play on the floor and saw her so, and
immediately dropped everything and scrambled off, climbing a chair by
Polly’s side.
“Mummy,” cried Barby, wriggling along till she stood on the broad
window-ledge under Polly’s arm.
“Oh, you dear!” exclaimed Polly, clasping her closely, and turning a
happy face. “Barby, _do_ you know that dear Grandpapa and Aunt Phronsie
and Uncle Joel are probably safe on the other side now. _Do_ you know
it, Barbara?”
“You called her Barbara,” said Elyot from the floor, and relinquishing
the charms of a castle ready to receive its final tower, to look over
at them.
“I know it,” said Polly happily. “When everything is so beautiful,
Elyot, I must call my little girl by her own true name--her papa’s dear
mamma’s name. O Barbara, Barbara!” exclaimed Polly with a final kiss.
“And when she’s bad, you call her Barbara,” said Elyot thoughtfully.
“And that is to make my little girl grow up good and beautiful like her
dear grandmamma,” said Polly. “Children, you don’t know how beautiful
your papa’s mamma was; everybody who ever saw her says so.”
“She’s down-stairs in the drawing-room,” said Elyot, as if stating a
wholly new fact for the first time; “and when I go in, I run up and
kiss her dress, and say, ‘How do you do, grandmamma,’ and she smiles at
me.”
“And I say, ‘Boo, grandmamma!’” laughed Barby confidentially.
“Well, if the picture is so beautiful,” said Polly, “you must remember
that dear grandmamma was ever so much more beautiful herself. And she
was good and lovely all through, dears.”
“Here comes a man to our house,” cried Barby, leaning over Polly’s
arms to look out of the window.
[Illustration: “And I say, ‘Boo, grandmamma!’ laughed Barby
confidentially.”]
“It’s Mr. Ferguson,” said Polly, glancing over Barby’s shoulder. “I
suppose he has come out on the early train. Oh! your papa, dear, will
come next train, I verily believe; and then, children, perhaps he will
have a cablegram from Grandpapa and Aunt Phronsie and Uncle Joel. Just
think!”
The maid stood before her saying, “Mr. Ferguson is down-stairs, Mrs.
King, and he wants to see you at once.”
So Polly put Barby down, and hurried off. “Go back, dears,” as they
rushed along the upper hall after her.
Mr. Ferguson, their next neighbor a half-mile or so down the road,
stood in the wide hall nervously twirling his hat.
“Won’t you come in?” asked Mrs. King.
“N--no, I thank you,” said Mr. Ferguson, edging off to the big front
door. “I just called going by from the train. I thought you ought to
know, and there wasn’t any time to go to Mr. King’s office and tell
him.”
“What is it?” asked Polly quietly.
“It’s on the bulletin-board,” said Mr. Ferguson, twirling his hat worse
than ever--“they were putting it out when I went by for the train--I
thought you ought to know.”
Polly felt everything swim before her eyes; but she looked steadily in
his face, and clasped her hands tightly together.
“It’s on the bulletin-board,” repeated Mr. Ferguson, “that the
Llewellyn was burned at sea; but the passengers were picked up by one
of the Harris line of cattle steamers,” he hurried on as he saw her
face, “and carried to Liverpool.”
“Is that _all_?” gasped Polly hoarsely.
Mr. Ferguson looked into his hat, and then gasped out, “N--no; but
perhaps it isn’t true, Mrs. King. It said that the Rev. Joel Pepper was
among the lost. That’s all.”
Polly ran through the hall, and out the side door. “_Jasper, Jasper!_”
she was saying over and over in her heart, though her white lips did
not move. Would she never reach the little brown house! At last she
was speeding up the narrow path and over the well-worn flat stone,
and through the old doorway and on into the bedroom, where she threw
herself on her knees by Mamsie’s big four-poster, just as she had
thrown herself years ago. “Dear God!” she cried now, her face buried in
the gay, patched bedquilt, just as it had been on that afternoon so
long ago, when in that darkened room, her eyes shadowed by a fear of
blindness, they had told her of the worse shadow that hung over Joel,
“make me willing to have anything--yes, _anything_ happen; only make me
good.”
[Illustration: Polly threw herself on her knees by Mamsie’s big
four-poster.]
How long she knelt there she never knew. Jasper hurried through the old
kitchen, and found her so. “O Polly!” kneeling by her side, he cried,
“don’t, don’t, dear! We have each other.”
“O Jasper!” Polly turned, and threw her arms around his neck, burying
her face on his breast as he gathered her up closely. “I was going out
to watch for you,” she cried remorsefully.
“I’ve only just got home, and they told me you were over here. I’d
rather find you here, Polly,” he hastened to add, as he saw her face.
And then Polly smiled, “We have each other, and God, Jasper,” she said.
“Yes,” said Jasper; “and as long as I can say that, Polly, I can bear
everything else.”
There was a step outside in the old kitchen; Jasper sprang to his feet,
Polly by his side.
“It is only I, children,” said Mr. Marlowe.
So they ran out to him, getting him into the easiest chair, and trying
to comfort him; for although he said nothing, it was easy to see how he
was suffering. And sitting one each side, they took a hand and patted
it softly between their own.
“I came as soon as I knew,” Mr. Marlowe was saying quietly; “can I do
anything to help? Have you wired Ben and David? It’s better for them
to hear it first from you.”
“No,” cried Jasper, starting to his feet; “I forgot it.”
“He thought only of me,” cried Polly.
“I’ll attend to it,” said Mr. Marlowe, getting up quickly; “on the way
to the train I cabled to Liverpool for full particulars.”
“Oh, how good you are!” cried Jasper and Polly together.
“But they will cable you from Liverpool probably before this is
answered,” said Mr. Marlowe; “so keep up heart, children.”
“They?” Polly dared not even think “Father” and “Phronsie,” as she
clung to Jasper. “Yes, dear Mr. Marlowe,” she said with a smile, as he
went out.
He came striding in presently, his keen gray eyes alight. “I believe it
is good,” he said, handing a yellow envelope to Jasper; “this has just
come.”
Jasper tore it open, one arm around Polly, and together they cried,
“Oh, _they’re safe_, Mr. Marlowe--all of them--_Joey and all--safe_!”
Mr. Marlowe picked up the yellow sheet as it dropped from their hands.
With a glance like lightning down the page, he gave it back, and rushed
off. “I’ll telegraph to the boys,” they heard him say, as he shot out
the doorway.
Polly seized the cablegram hungrily, and dropped a kiss on it. Then
over and over they read the blissful words:--
“LIVERPOOL.
We are safe. Joel and the captain and a sailor named Jim were the
last to leave the ship. Joel was hurt, but not seriously. Grandpapa
was exhausted, but in a day or two we shall leave for Rome. Joel
insists on it. He is to stay here a little longer, at the house of a
good friend, Mr. Henry Benson, thirty-seven Harley Street.
SOPHRONIA PEPPER.”
“Now, you two children are going in the next boat to Liverpool,” Mr.
Marlowe hurried in with a smile--“if you can catch it;” and he began
to rummage in the newspaper-folder behind the door. “Let’s see; yes,
Thursday the Abyssinia sails; day after to-morrow--plenty of time.”
“But, Mr. Marlowe, I cannot be spared,” cried Jasper, aghast. “And as
long as everything seems to be so well over there, I ought not to leave
you.”
“I’m going to have my say now, Jasper,” declared the publisher
deliberately, and drawing up his chair to their side. “To be sure,
all is right, thank God, over there; but Polly wants to see Joel for
herself, and you need it, too, after all this anxiety; and then you are
to go on to Rome, and look after them all there.”
“O Mr. Marlowe!” Polly and Jasper turned, and gazed into each other’s
faces. This was too good to be true.
“You are sacrificing yourself,” said Jasper brokenly. “Stop--don’t say
a word, sir, I know just what is to be done; and my work must come on
you. No, no, it isn’t right; I cannot go and leave you; Polly wouldn’t
wish it under such conditions.”
“No,” said Polly, throwing her arm around him; “indeed, I do not wish
it, dear Mr. Marlowe. I wouldn’t go for anything.”
“Listen, now, Polly,” Mr. Marlowe turned his face with a smile toward
her; “you are both like my children, aren’t you?” looking at Jasper now.
“Yes, yes, we are,” they both cried.
“Well, then, I’m going to be obeyed,” he said, getting a hand of each,
and keeping them close. “Now, hear me. You are wife and child and
everything to me, and it is my happiness to look out for you. Don’t go
against my plan, children. Remember, I’m all alone in the world, and
don’t thwart me in this.” He set his lips firmly together, while his
keen gray eyes held them.
“But, sir”--began Jasper.
“No, no, Jasper, it won’t do. I’ve planned it all coming out on the
train. I can get Jacobs; he’s out of a job now. He can take some of
the detail work you look after, so that I shall not carry that. And
I should only worry if you stayed at home. You must go.” Mr. Marlowe
took away his good right hand a moment from Polly’s, to bring it down
quickly on his knee.
“Can you get Jacobs?” asked Jasper joyfully.
“Yes; heard so to-day. I was going to ask you if we better not secure
him anyway. So you see the way is open for you to be off.”
“But there is plenty more that Jacobs cannot do, Mr. Marlowe,” began
Jasper anxiously.
[Illustration: “‘Of course,’ cried Polly, with kindling eyes, ‘splendid
old Joel would do just that very thing, Davie.’”]
“Never mind; I shall plan it so that you’re not to worry. You must
go, Jasper;” and looking in the resolute face with its shining eyes,
they knew it was a settled thing that in two days, if all went well,
they would be off.
And on the next day David came rushing in, breathless with pride and
excitement. “I’m going to Joel,” he panted.
“Why, David,” Polly cried at him, “oh, you dear boy! Can you?”
“Can I?” cried David. “Nothing in all this world is strong enough to
keep me from him. To think that Joel stayed till the very last. O
Polly!”
“I know it,” cried Polly with kindling eyes; “but of course splendid
old Joel would do just that very thing, Davie.” She was hugging his
hands now, and laughing and crying together. “Jasper!” she called,
hurrying into the wide hall, “David has--oh, oh--Ben!” she screamed.
“Well, well,” cried Jasper running up, “you here, Ben?”
“And David,” cried Polly, quite overcome, and laying her head on Ben’s
shoulder.
“Yes, I’m here, of course,” said David, coming out into the hall.
“Jasper!” cried Ben, his honest eyes shining with pride, and
reaching past Polly to give him a handshake such as Ben only could
give, “run your hand in my coat pocket here; there’s a paper, the
_Press-Bulletin_--it’s all in there about Joe.”
“And I have it in mine,” cried David, whirling out a big journal;
“here, Jasper, read mine first.” He shook it in Jasper’s face.
“Softly, there,” cried Jasper just as excited. “Polly, hold one of
these fellows--take Dave there--while I get this paper out of Ben’s
pocket.”
“Polly read mine--read it,” implored Davie. So Polly deserted Ben, and
fastened her brown eyes on the sheet Davie held for her, and Jasper
read his out too; and no one who hadn’t learned it before could hear
a word of it all,--how the Rev. Joel Pepper had worked for nine long
hours with the sailors to subdue the fire; and when it was found that
the ship couldn’t be saved, he it was who kept by the captain’s side
and maintained order, so that everybody got off. And then, at the very
last, those three--the captain and the Rev. Joel and a sailor named
Jim--had jumped for their lives; and the cattle steamer, after picking
up the boat-loads, had come to their rescue, to discover them floating
on broken spars. And the clergyman was injured, but was recovering in
Liverpool. And Mr. Horatio King and his grand-daughter were passengers.
Oh, and it was a marvel that no lives were lost! And then followed
glowing praises of Joel.
“Hear, hear!” cried Ben and Davie, pounding for order. “One or the
other of you stop.” And in ran Alexia and Pickering.
“Oh! what is it?” cried Alexia, rushing up to Polly.
“They are so excited they don’t know what they’re reading,” cried Davie.
“Oh, splendid old Joel!” breathed Polly, turning with shining eyes.
“Good for Joe!” cried Jasper, beginning afresh on his column.
“Give it to me, Polly! give it to me!” exclaimed Alexia, trying to get
hold of the sheet. But Polly only whirled away with it, reading happily
on.
“Well, that is too splendid for anything,” cried Jasper, throwing down
the newspaper at last, “Oh, hello, you here, Pick?”
“So you’ve waked up, have you,” cried Pickering, pouncing on the
journal, and edging off into a corner with it. “Then I’ll have a go at
it myself.” Alexia seeing this, deserted Polly, and ran over to him.
“Just one little teenty corner of a scrap,” she said, laying hold of
one edge.
“Get away,” said Pickering, holding fast to it. “I can tell you so much
quicker, Alexia, than you can read it.”
“I’m going to have one corner,” she begged. “Oh, what a mean shame!” as
Pickering turned a cold shoulder to her.
“He’s a shabby little beggar,” said Ben, flying around suddenly to
grasp the newspaper; “there, hold your hands, Alexia. I’ll hold _him_.”
“That’s what I call taking advantage of the defenceless,” said
Pickering, defrauded of his paper. “Ben, you’re a nice friend, to turn
against me like that.”
“Come over here, and I’ll let you have part,” said Alexia sweetly; and
seating herself on a divan, she was soon reading as excitedly as Polly.
“Oh! where has she gone?” she cried at last, jumping up, and dashing
the newspaper to the floor. “Where’s Polly gone?”
“And Jasper too,” said Ben. “Goodness me!” as the door opened, and in
came Polly and the two children, Elyot hanging to his father’s hand.
“I want these blessed dears to hear it--all about their Uncle Joel now,
just as soon as we read it,” said Polly with shining eyes. So everybody
had to go all over it again, the children hanging on every word.