The Settlers at Home Part 14

"Never mind them:--let them go, I am sure we all want to be asleep more than anything else."

"Sleep, indeed! Do you suppose I shall sleep with that boy hid among the trees? Not I, you may rely upon it. Those may that can: and I will watch."

No one had yet mentioned Roger, though all felt that his presence was a terrible drawback to the comfort of their establishment on the hill, which might otherwise be, in fine weather, a tolerably pleasant one. It made Oliver indignant to think that a stout lad, whom they had wished to make welcome to all they had, in their common adversity, should be skulking in the wood as an enemy, instead of helping them in their labours, under circ.u.mstances in which all should be friends. This thought made Oliver so angry that he did not choose to speak of Roger.

When Ailwin offered to seek him out, and do her best to tie his limbs again, and carry him away to any place the children chose, Oliver begged her to say no more about it; and observed that they had better forget Roger altogether, if they could, unless he should come to make peace.

There was one, however, who could not for a moment forget who was the cause of the late quarrel. Mildred was very unhappy at the thought of the mischief she had done by her shriek. Not all her hard toil of this evening could console her. When the cloth had been spread over the lower branches of a great ash, so as to shelter the party, in a careless way, for this one night (when there was no time to make a proper tent), and while Ailwin was heating something for supper, and Oliver dozing with George on one of the beds, Mildred stole away, to consider whether there was anything that she could do to cure Roger's anger. It did her good, at least, to sit down and think about it. She sat down under a tree, above where the bee-shed had stood. The moon had just risen, and was very bright, being near the full. The clouds seemed to have come down out of the sky, to rest upon the earth; for white vapours, looking as soft as wreaths of snow, were hovering over the wide waste of waters.

Some of these were gently floating or curling, while others brooded still, like large white birds over their hidden nests. It seemed to Mildred's eye, however, as if a clear path had been cut through these mists, from the Red-hill to the moon on the horizon, and as if this path had been strewed with quivering moonbeams. She forgot, while gazing, that she was looking out upon the carr,--upon muddy waters which covered the ruins of many houses, and in which were hidden the bodies of drowned animals, and perhaps of some people. She looked upon the train of trembling light, and felt not only how beautiful it was, but that He whose hand kindled that mild heavenly lamp, and poured out its rays before his children's eyes, would never forget and forsake them. While everything was made so beautiful as to seem ordered for the pleasure of men, their lives and common comforts could not be overlooked. So plain did this now appear to Mildred, that she felt less and less anxious and fearful; and, after a time, as if she was afraid of nothing at all, and could never be afraid again.

She determined to go and seek Roger,--not with any wish like Ailwin's, that he could be bound by force, and carried away, to be alone and miserable,--but with a much happier hope and purpose. She did not think he would hurt her; but, if he did, she had rather that he should strike her than that Oliver and he should fight, day after day, as Ailwin had whispered to her they meant to do. She did not believe he could come to blows with Oliver again, after she had taken all the blame upon herself.

So she set forth to do so.

She went on quickly enough while she was upon the slope, in the full moonlight, and with the blaze of Ailwin's fire not far off on her right hand. But she felt the difference when she entered the shade of the trees. It was rather chilly there, and very silent. There was only a rustle in the gra.s.s and brambles about her feet, as if she disturbed some small animals hidden there. When she thought she was far enough away from her party not to be heard by them, she began to call softly, hoping that Roger might presently answer, so that she should not have to go much further into the darkness. But she heard nothing but her own voice, as she called, "Roger! Where are you, Roger? I want to speak to you."

Further and further on she went; and still there was no reply. Though she knew every inch of her way, she tripped several times over the roots of the trees; and once she fell. She saw the stars in the s.p.a.ces of the wood, as she looked up, and knew that she should soon come out upon the gra.s.s again. But when she did so, she found it almost as dark as in the wood, though the moon shone on the waters afar. She still went on calling Roger--now a little louder, till she stumbled over something which was not the root of a tree, for it was warm, and it growled.

"Bishop!" she exclaimed, in alarm; for next to Roger, she had always been afraid of Roger's dog.

"Why don't you call him Spy?" said Roger's voice, from the ground just before her. "What business have you to call him by his wrong name?--how is he ever to learn his name if people come calling him by the wrong one? Get away--will you? I know what I'll do if you come here, spoiling my dog."

"I will go back directly when I have said one thing. It was all my fault that you and Oliver quarrelled this morning. I was frightened, and screamed when I ought not; and it is my fault that you are not now by our fire, getting your supper with us, in our tent I am sure, I wish you were there."

"Very fine," said Roger. "He knows I thrashed him; and he does not want any more of it. But I'll thrash him as long as I live; I tell you that."

"Oliver does not know about my coming--he is asleep in the tent,"

protested Mildred. "n.o.body knows of my coming. I don't believe Oliver would have let me come, if he had known it. Only go and look yourself; and you will see how he lies asleep on the gra.s.s. We know you can beat him in fighting, because you are so much bigger; and that is why I cannot bear that he should fight. It was all about me this time; and I know he will never give up; and I don't know how long it will be before he is big enough to thrash you."

"Long enough, I can tell you: so get away, and let me go to sleep; or I'll thrash you too."

"How can you talk so, Roger, and keep your anger so, when we are all so unhappy? I did not wonder much before, when Ailwin had to help Oliver... That was enough to make you or anybody be angry. But now, when I come to tell you how sorry I am, and that I know, if I ask Oliver, that he will be glad to forget everything, and that you should come to supper with us, instead of lying here in the dark, with nothing to eat, I do think you ought to forgive and forget; to forgive me, and forget all about thras.h.i.+ng Oliver."

Roger made no answer.

"Good-bye, Roger," said Mildred. "I am sorry that you choose to lie here, hungry and cold, instead of..."

"What business have you in my island?" interrupted Roger, fiercely.

"How dared you settle upon my ground, to mock me with your fire and your supper? I'll have my fire and my supper too."

"I hope you will, if you will not come to ours. We were obliged to settle here--the house is all cracking, and falling to pieces. We were very sorry to come,--we were all so tired;--but we dared not stay in the house."

Roger uttered an exclamation which showed that a new light had broken upon him, as to the causes of their removal.

"Poor Geordie is so ill, we were most sorry to have to move him. The time will come, Roger, though you don't think so now, when you will be vexed that while we cannot tell whether father and mother are alive or dead, and whether George will live or die, you put the pain of quarrels upon us too."

"Well, get you gone now!" said Roger, not immediately discovering that she was some paces on her way home again before he said that much.

Mildred heard Ailwin calling her to supper, as she drew near the tent.

She did not say where she had been; but perhaps she was more on the watch, in consequence of what had pa.s.sed. She soon saw that Roger was sauntering under the trees; and indeed what she had said, and what he now saw together, had altered Roger's mind. He was hungry, and once more tired of being alone and sulky. He was thinking how comfortable the fire and the steaming kettle looked, and considering how he should make his approach, when Mildred jumped up, and came running to him.

"They don't know that I came to find you," said she. "Oliver will think it so kind of you to come and be friends! He will be so pleased! And there is plenty of supper for everybody."

She ventured to put her hand in his, and lead him forwards into the light. She told Oliver that Roger was willing to forgive and forget; and Oliver said that he was quite willing too. Oliver set a stool for Roger, and offered him his own basin of broth. Ailwin held her tongue;--which was the most that could be expected of her.

Roger did not quite know what to say and do, when he had finished his supper, and fed Spy. He swung his legs, as he sat upon his stool, stared into the fire, and began to whistle. Roger's shrillest whistle, as it had been sometimes heard in the carr, was anything but agreeable: but his low whistle, when he was not thinking about it, was soft and sweet. A gentle chuckle was soon heard from George, as he lay across Mildred's knees.

"He likes it! He likes such a whistle as that!" exclaimed Mildred. Her eyes said to Roger, "Do go on!"

Roger went on whistling, better and better,--more and more softly, he drawing nearer, till he quite bent over the poor sick child, who, after many signs of pleasure, dropped off into a sleep,--a quiet, sound sleep.

"Thank you!" said Oliver, heartily. "Thank you, Roger!"

"You will do it again to-morrow, will not you, if he should be fretful?"

said Mildred.

Roger nodded. Then he made the cloth drapery hang better over the pillows on which the child was laid,--so as to keep off the dew completely, he said. Then he nodded again, when Oliver gave him a blanket: and once more he nodded good night, before he rolled himself up in it under a neighbouring tree.

CHAPTER NINE.

ONE PRISONER RELEASED.

In the morning, it appeared that it had been right to remove to the Red-hill the night before. Only some fragments of the roof of the house remained. Some beams and a quant.i.ty of rubbish had fallen into the room where the party had lived since the flood came; and a heap of this rubbish lay on the very spot where Mildred would have been sleeping if they had stayed. All saw and considered this with awe. Roger himself looked first at the little girl, and then at that part of the ruin, as if imagining what it would have been for her to be lying there, and wondering to see her standing here, alive and unhurt.

"Look how that wall stands out;" said Oliver. "The faster the house falls, the more haste we must make to save what we can."

"Oh! Cannot you stay quietly to-day?" asked Mildred. "I think we have got all we really want; and this bustle and hurry and hard work every day are so tiresome! Cannot we keep still and rest to-day?"

"To-morrow, dear," replied her brother. "To-morrow is Sunday! And we will try to rest. But there is no knowing how long we may have to live in this place, in the middle of the waters; and it is my duty to save everything I can that can make George and you and the rest of us comfortable when the colder weather comes on."

"I wonder what all the world is about, that n.o.body comes to see after us," said Mildred, sighing.

"Out of sight, out of mind, Mildred," said Ailwin. "That is the way, all the world over."

"I am sure it is not," said Oliver. "Mildred and I say as little as we can about father and mother, but don't you imagine such a thing as that they are out of our minds. I know Mildred never shuts her eyes, but she sees the mill floating away, as it did that evening, and father standing..."

He could not go on about that. Presently he said, "When the flood came, I suppose, there were no boats to be had. It would take the first day to bring them from a distance, and get them afloat. Then the people would look round (as they ought to do) to see where they could do most good. n.o.body who looked through a gla.s.s this way, since the day before yesterday, and saw those rafters sticking up in the air,--the house in ruins as it is,--would suppose that any one could be left alive here.

From a distance, they can hardly fancy that even any little mouse could help being either drowned or starved. This will be about the last spot in the Levels that any boat will come to.--You see, Mildred, our Red-hill, though it is everything to us, is but a speck compared with the grounds that have stood above water since the waters began to sink.

We had better not think of anything but living on as we can, unless it should please G.o.d that we should die."

Roger did not want to hear anything more of this kind; so he went to where George was lying, and began to whistle softly to him. The child was so altered that his own mother would hardly have known him: but he smiled when he heard the whistle; and the smile was his own. He put up his hand and patted Roger's face, and even pulled his hair with a good stout pull. Roger had been used to nurse his dog, though not little children. He now took George into his arms, and laid him comfortably across his knees, while he whistled till the little fellow looked full in his face, and puckered up his poor white lips, as if he would whistle too. This made Roger laugh aloud; and then George laughed. Ailwin heard them, and peeped into the corner of the tent where they were. She flew to Oliver, to tell him that Roger was at his tricks worse than ever,--he was bewitching the baby. She was angry at Oliver for telling his sister, when he had looked in too, that they might have been very glad any of them, to bewitch poor baby in this manner, when he was crying so sadly all yesterday. Mildred, for her part, ran to thank Roger, and say how glad she should be to be able to whistle as he could.

"How should you?" said Roger,--"you who never had a dog, or caught any sort of a bird in your life, I dare say."

"No, I never could. One day, long ago, when mother was very busy, and I was tired of playing, she gave me some salt into my hand, and told me I might put it upon the birds' tails in the garden, and so catch them: but I did not get one. At last, half the salt was spilt, and the other half was melted in my hand; and then dinner was ready. I suppose that was a joke of mother's."

"She wanted you out of the way; and what a fool you must have been not to find that out! Why, the birds could not have been sillier, if they had let you put the salt upon their tails."

"It was a long while ago," pleaded Mildred. "Here, take him," said Roger, popping George into her arms. "Show him how to catch birds if you like. I can't spend my time any longer here."