The first two weeks in April came and went without news of Lis. Then, on
a rainy afternoon in the middle of the month Erica and Tommy, sitting on
the floor before the grate fire in Miss Charity’s sitting room reading
out of the same book of old sea tales, heard a knock on the front door.
Erica rose, yawning, and crossed the passage to answer it, urging Tommy
vehemently not to turn a page until her return.
The afternoon light had almost gone now, and with the glow of the fire
still in her eyes she blinked unrecognizingly at the bulky figure
standing on the porch in the dusk.
“Doesn’t thee remember me, missy?” a deep voice asked in the familiar
Quaker speech that more than half the island used.
Erica gave a little gasp, and one hand flew instinctively to her throat
as if breathing had all at once become difficult.
“Captain—Bartlet,” she whispered. She had no reason—yet—for the swift
fear that raced along her nerves; but without stopping to reason what
prompted her action, she stepped hurriedly out on the little porch and
drew the front door softly to behind her. Then, her hands clenched at
her sides to control their trembling, she lifted her head gallantly and
looked the big captain in the face. “Did—didn’t Lis come with you?” she
asked in a shaky little voice.
Captain Bartlet cleared his throat twice before he answered her. “No,
missy,” he said at last. “That’s why I came here to see Miss Charity
first, before I see Lister’s mother.” He put a huge hand on Erica’s
shoulder. “My dear, thee is going to be a brave little woman, isn’t
thee, and help me?”
Erica didn’t recognize her own voice when it came, it sounded so
strained and lifeless, but she held it perfectly steady with all her
young strength. “Please talk softly,” she said, and motioned over her
shoulder to the house behind her. “Tommy’s in there, waiting for me.
Tell me what’s happened—first. Lis isn’t—isn’t—_dead_?” She brought out
the terrible word with an effort.
The captain’s hand tightened comfortingly on her shoulder.
“I hope not, my dear child. I trust not,” he said, hesitating, as if he
were trying to pick and choose his words carefully. “But the truth is,
missy, that I know nothing at all. Lis went ashore, our last night in
Canton. I didn’t see him go, but Myrick, the first mate, told me later
he’d gone ashore in the same boat with him. Then they parted. Lister
wanted a final look at the city, and the mate had some business about
the cargo to see to.”
He paused, and Erica said, breathlessly, “Yes. And then——”
“That’s the last we know,” Captain Bartlet replied, sorrowfully. “He
didn’t come back to the ship that night, nor the next morning. He’d
never stayed away like that before. It was strictly against the rules,
and Lister was a good boy, steady as a clock.”
“But——” Erica almost screamed it at him, forgetting Tommy for the
moment—”you never sailed, and—and left Lis alone, lost, in China?
You—oh, you must have searched for him, Captain Bartlet!”
“Of course we searched, missy,” he said, quickly. “We put off our
departure for the best part of a week and pretty near turned that
bloomin’ old Chinese city upside down with our hunting. But there wasn’t
a trace—not so much as a whisper. I even remembered that tale thee told
me about a Chinese godfather who sent thee presents and whose seal thee
drew for me in the flower pot that day. Doesn’t thee remember? I had
seen that seal before, though the man it belonged to wasn’t named Sun
Li.”
“But—but he _is_,” Erica protested. “Why, my father knows him—oh, _very_
well!”
“That may all be,” the other assented, gravely. “I found thy godfather,
little Erica. He gave me an audience when I used thy name and thy
father’s.”
Erica caught her breath. “You—you _saw_ Sun Li? Oh, Captain Bartlet, who
is he?”
“A very great man in his own land,” the captain declared. “Governor of
the province. Also a man high in favor at the imperial court, it is
whispered. Where thy father got the name of Sun Li, I know not.
Perchance it is some little name of friendship by which he chooses to be
known to thee, to hide his true rank. But for Captain Eric’s sake he was
exceedingly gracious to me and heard all my tale of Lister’s
disappearance with much interest. At its conclusion he promised to have
search made for the lad and to send word if he were found. He bade me
return to America, since, after all, even for thy cousin’s sake, I could
not hold up the _Spray_ and her cargo indefinitely. A captain’s duty is
first of all to his owners. And I had exhausted all my resources in the
search. If the governor could not find him, surely I could do nothing.”
The door at their backs was suddenly flung open violently, and Tommy,
his blue eyes wide with a kind of startled horror, stood on the
threshold, staring at the two outside.
“What’s that you’re saying about Lis?” he cried. “I heard Rick call out
his name and something about not leaving him behind. What’s the matter?”
Erica ran to him and clasped his arm with two strong, nervous young
hands. “Tommy, don’t look like that, please, dear,” she begged, her
voice thick with the tears she was trying so hard to hold back. “And it
isn’t sure yet that he—— Sun Li is having a search made for him, and—and
Sun Li’s governor of Canton, Tommy, so you see, he can do——”
Tommy cut her short, “_Where is Lis?_” he demanded, his glance going
from Erica to the big figure of Captain Bartlet on the porch.
The captain shook his head helplessly, tried for words, and choked
ignominiously. There was something heart-breaking about the tense
questioning of Tommy’s blue eyes, before which the bluff, kindly old
sailor felt all the sympathetic attempts at reassurance he wanted to
utter seem useless. He looked pleadingly at the girl between them.
“Tommy, we don’t know,” Erica said, bravely, tightening her grasp on her
cousin’s arm. “You’ll have to help us, dear, because we’ve got somehow
to tell your mother.”
“All right,” the boy said, briefly. “Tell me first.” And he added, just
as Erica herself had done, “He isn’t—_dead_, Rick?”
“We don’t know, dear,” Erica repeated, and for a little moment her red
head went down on Tommy’s arm and one big, uncontrollable sob shook her.
But almost instantly she had herself in hand once more, and, lifting her
head, repeated in a steady voice the story Captain Bartlet had just told
her.
Tommy listened quietly, only wincing once, when she came to the
departure of the _Spray_, leaving Lis behind her. “What did Sun Li
think, sir?” he said of Captain Bartlet when Erica was done. “Was he—at
all hopeful, sir?”
“I can’t tell a thing about what a Chinaman thinks,” the captain said,
ruefully. “Their faces never seem to change, no matter what they’re
feeling inside them. But as I told missy here, he was very courteous as
soon as Captain Eric’s name was mentioned, and promised to do all that
lay in his power to find the lad.” He broke off with an exclamation and
thrust a hand into the inner pocket of his coat in search of something.
Presently, after much rummaging among several pockets, he produced a
small package, done up in gilt paper, and sealed with huge gold seals
showing the strange Chinese characters both children were already
familiar with on other, similarly wrapped parcels that had come home
with Captain Eric Folger in the _Sea Gull_.
Captain Bartlet handed it to Erica. “The governor sent this to thee,
missy,” he explained.
“Oh, what do I care about presents at a time like this!” Erica cried,
impatiently.
“I’d open it,” Tommy advised. “There may be some sort of message inside
to tell what he’s going to do about Lis.”
“Of course. I never thought of that,” Erica agreed, and tore at the
gorgeous wrappings with trembling fingers.
Inside was a small square box of carved teakwood, ornamented with
curious clasps of hammered brass that looked like dragons’ wings. A tiny
brass key was tied to one of the clasps with a knot of orange cord, and
when this had unlocked the little box, it proved to contain a pair of
long, beautifully carved earrings of deep green jade, with pear-shaped
drops at the ends, of delicately tinted pink pearls. They were lovely,
graceful things, and by the look of them extremely valuable, though
wholly unsuited to a child of Erica’s age. But at the moment Erica
hardly gave them a glance, since all her attention was concentrated on
the few lines of heavy, flourishing writing on a small orange card that
was inclosed with the earrings.
To the little Sea Blossom, my very dear and honorable Goddaughter [ran
the writing], with the assurance that Sun Li will either return her
cousin to her in safety or terribly punish those who have harmed him.
Let the little Sea Girl believe that nothing shall be left undone and
that word shall be sent speedily by the first ship, when there is
news.
Box, note, and the jade-and-pearl earrings slipped from Erica’s hands,
to fall with a little tinkle on the wooden floor of the porch. “Oh,
Tommy, as if his punishing the men who hurt Lis will do us any good!”
she choked. “That may be the Oriental way of looking at things. I want
Lis back, well and safe. Sun Li’s just an old Chinese heathen,” she
wailed. “What does he know of how Americans feel about things?”
“I don’t know that it’s such a heathen point of view,” Tommy put in, in
a new, grim voice. “If anybody’s hurt Lis, I _want_ ‘em punished as much
as Sun Li does. Rick,” he said, his tone changing suddenly and
piteously, “why did I have to break my leg that time and give Lis a
chance to go in my place? Then he’d be here safe and sound right this
minute.”
“And you’d be over there in China,” Erica reminded him, quickly. “No,
that wouldn’t be a bit better, Tommy dear.”
“That doesn’t follow necessarily,” Tommy insisted. “I might not have
gone ashore that last night. Or—or—oh, it might have been different lots
of ways. But that does no good to think of now,” he added, soberly.
“We’ve got to tell mother next, I guess. You—— Please come with us,
Captain Bartlet. Mother will want to ask you questions, I know.”
They crossed the garden without further words, the three walking
abreast, their faces grave and anxious. Mrs. Folger, opening the door at
Erica’s knock, scarcely needed the captain’s kind, stumbling
explanation, to know that trouble of some sort had come to Lister.
She heard him out quietly, for she came of a race that had been well and
early trained in self-control.
“Please come into the sitting room, Captain,” she said then, closing the
front door behind them—for the four had been standing in the narrow
entry hall. “There’s a fire in there, and the evening’s turned cool. I
would take it kindly of you if you could sit a while and let me ask you
all the details, so I can know better how to shape my plans.” Her face
worked suddenly, but no tears came, and Erica, knowing how hard her aunt
was struggling not to give way, thought better of her own eager impulse
to run to her and fling comforting arms about her neck.
They sat down before the bright grate fire, with Tommy standing behind
his mother’s chair, as if he could not bear to watch her face that was
so quiet and so very white.
Milly Thorne, who had been curled up in a corner of the sofa at the
right of the hearth, with a book on her lap, rose silently and crept
nearer, till she crouched like a small thin black kitten at Mrs.
Folger’s feet, her big, straining black eyes lifted with a new softness
and pity in them, to the older woman’s face.
Erica fought down a swift, unworthy little pang when she saw her aunt’s
hand go almost unconsciously to Milly’s tumbled black hair and rest
there as if she found some small comfort in the contact.
And then Milly said a thing that surprised both her young cousins, her
voice quite unlike the querulous voice of Milly Thorne as they had heard
it since her arrival in the household. “I know what it’s like, Cousin
Callie,” she whispered, fiercely, and laid her cheek against Mrs.
Folger’s knee with a gentle, caressing touch that was as un-Milly-like
as her voice. “I _know_. I—_adored_ my mother.”
Erica, with a big lump in her throat, glanced quickly and remorsefully
at Tommy. Had they really been unkind all this past winter when they
thought they were merely paying a spoiled and ungrateful girl back in
her own coin? It was not a pleasant thought, particularly at a moment
like this. Erica was inclined to resent the realization unreasonably.
They had enough to bear with all this dreadful news about Lis, without
having their feelings further harrowed up with remorse for past
treatment of Milly. Why couldn’t Milly have been normal, and cried and
showed her grief so ordinary folks could understand? She’d certainly
acted, most of the time, as if she hated them all and was in Nantucket
under compulsion only.
“When do you sail again for Canton, Captain?” Aunt Callie was asking,
steadily, when Erica pulled herself out of the rather morbid reflections
she was so unwontedly entertaining.
“In another week, ma’am,” he said. “Just time to unload cargo and take
on another we’ve got, consigned to Hong Kong. We sail to Hong Kong
first, and then to Canton, this trip. There’ll surely be good news
waiting when we reach there. Thee must keep up a good heart, Mrs.
Folger. Thy boy will come sailing back to thee yet, strong and hale, or
my name’s not Judson Bartlet. Thee must hope and pray, and have faith in
the Lord’s goodness.” He spoke quite simply, and with such evident
conviction that Mrs. Folger stretched out her hand to him in swift and
wordless gratitude, faintly touched with a new hope.
“And perhaps Erica’s father will bring good news, even before Captain
Bartlet’s ship has time to go and return,” Milly Thorne reminded them,
her cheek still against Mrs. Folger’s knee like a snuggling kitten. “The
governor is a friend of his and will surely have done his utmost to get
word to him, if there were news before the _Sea Gull_ sailed. And——” she
hesitated, and looked from Mrs. Folger up to Tommy, standing white-faced
and tense behind her chair—”why shouldn’t Tommy go back with Captain
Bartlet on this next trip?” she asked, unexpectedly. “He still needs a
cabin boy, now that Lister——” She stopped and smiled a little, obviously
pleased at the glow of eagerness that flashed across Tommy’s face like a
crimson flame. “Then he would be on the spot if there is any news
waiting when the ship arrives. He wanted very much to go in the first
place, I know, and perhaps he can talk to this Sun Li more—more
personally, as Lister’s brother and Captain Folger’s nephew. And Barbee
and I will be here to look after you,” she wound up, touching the hand
that still rested affectionately on her head.
“Oh, _mother_!” Tommy burst out in a voice of such desperate pleading as
needed no other explanations of how he felt in the matter. “Milly,
you—you’re——” He choked audibly and turned very red at such a frank
betrayal of sentiment. “Mother, I’ve just _got_ to go,” he finished.
“If we could only wait until your Uncle Eric’s ship returns,” Mrs.
Folger began, uncertainly. “We’re expecting him back almost any time,
you know. He may have news, dear.”
“But I—want to go to sea,” Tommy said, vehemently. “I’ve wanted it all
my life. I only gave it up so Lis could have my chance. Now—now when it
means I can be on the spot, as Milly says, to help search for him,
I——Mother, I just _can’t_ stay at home and wait. Please, please don’t
ask me to!” He had his hands on her shoulders and was bending over the
low chair back, to look earnestly into her troubled face. “Mother, we—we
can’t just _leave_ Lis over there without one of us going——”
Mrs. Folger glanced at Captain Bartlet inquiringly, and he met her eyes
with a little nod of reassurance. “I think it a good plan, if thee will
trust him to me, ma’am,” he confirmed his nod, gravely.
Erica turned to the fire and stared into its glowing depths with eyes so
blinded by tears all they could see was a dull red blur. First Lis and
now Tommy! Men and boys had all the chances in this world. Girls and
women had just to stay at home and suffer and wait and wait. She rumpled
her short red curls, bitterness in her heart, and listened to the slow
voices of Captain Bartlet and her aunt, and the eager, young voice of
Tommy, discussing the new plan.