Chatterbox, 1905 Part 3

'Yes, my boy, and I will look on to see that you do it properly.'

Ah! little did Sir Matthew think, as he said these words, of the incidents which would take place, ere the castle light should next fling its friendly rays across the sea.

The November afternoon was creeping on apace, and Sir Matthew, absorbed in thought, drew long whiffs from his pipe, as he sat over the dining-room fire. The wind was wild and stormy, and dashed against the window-pane with angry force.

Conrad, who was busy preparing his lessons for his tutor next morning, looked up anxiously. But the words he was about to say were checked by the entrance of a rough-looking man of the fisher type.

It was William Forrest, or Black Bill as he was called by his neighbours, partly on account of his swarthy appearance, and partly because of his evil deeds.

The baronet rose in surprise, wondering at his entering the room unannounced.

'Good evening, Forrest,' he said.

'Evening, master,' was the sullen reply; 'I have come on business, and I want to see you alone.'

Sir Matthew bade Conrad take his lessons into the library, whilst he spoke to his visitor. The boy obeyed, unwillingly enough, for instinctively he felt that Black Bill meant no good to his dearly loved grandfather.

Somehow he could not give his mind to his lessons, and at length, thinking the interview must be ended, he returned to the dining-room.

The sight which there met his eyes made his heart stand still with terror and alarm. His grandfather lay gagged and bound upon the floor.

It was the work of a few moments to remove the gag, and when Sir Matthew could find voice, he told the story of his attack.

Black Bill, who was in reality a wrecker, for some evil reason of his own, had endeavoured to extract from the baronet a promise not to light the lamp that night. Upon Sir Matthew's indignant refusal, he, with the aid of two colleagues who were waiting near, had next proceeded to render him helpless. They had already gagged and bound the three old servants of the castle. So ma.s.sive were the walls and lengthy the pa.s.sages that not a sound had reached Conrad's ears; and the men had apparently forgotten his presence in the castle.

The boy, in terrible distress of mind, tried to unloose the cords which bound his grandfather hand and foot.

'Never mind the cords, Conrad,' said the old man at last, 'they are more than you can manage. Go and light the lamp, for it is already past the hour, and may Heaven protect you.'

Conrad, sick at heart, turned to obey.

'I will do it, Grandfather,' he replied, looking fearfully around lest Black Bill and his colleagues should be listening. 'Then I will come back and help you,' he added bravely.

With light, fleet footsteps, the little ten-year-old laddie made his way along the pa.s.sage, towards the staircase. Presently sounds fell on his ears which sent all the colour from his face. Black Bill and his comrades were talking together in a room close by, the door of which was open; and to reach the lighthouse staircase he must pa.s.s that very room.

For a few minutes he crouched in shadow, too panic-stricken to move. He thought of his promise to his grandfather and of the homeward-bound _Benares_ battling with wind and wave; then like an inspiration came the thought of Him Who stilled the waters of Galilee, and Who at this moment was watching over him.

The lad hesitated no more. On he sped past the open door, towards his goal. But, alas! Black Bill had noted his light footsteps.

'Stop, boy!' he shouted, 'or it will be the worse for you.'

But never once paused Conrad.

Then the men gave chase, and despair filled the brave young heart.

Mercifully in the darkness the men took a wrong turn, and the boy mounted quickly up, up, up, until he was safe in the shelter of the lighthouse tower.

It took him but a few seconds to turn the key in the lock, and to slip the heavy bolts. Then he was safe from his pursuers.

Meanwhile the good s.h.i.+p _Benares_ was tossing on the angry sea, out of its course and in sore peril, with no castle light to guide it home.

Then, almost at the moment of its extremity, shot forth a brilliant gleam, and the gallant vessel was saved--saved by a little lad's courage and daring.

Black Bill, after hammering vainly at the door, at length turned away, muttering threats of vengeance.

An hour crept by on leaden wings, and at last, to Conrad's joy, he heard his grandfather's voice calling him by name. In a very short s.p.a.ce of time they were face to face, and Conrad heard how that one man, more tender-hearted than the rest, had secretly returned to the castle (after Black Bill's departure) and freed Sir Matthew from his bonds.

Cairns Castle is now falling into decay, and its light no longer exists.

But on the coast near by stands a magnificent lighthouse, which sends forth its life-saving gleam across the sea. Conrad has left boyhood far behind him, and has now little lads and la.s.ses of his own. Many are the stories which their parents have to tell of the once stately home of the Cairns family, but the story the children like best to hear is how Father lit the Castle Light.

M. I. HURRELL.

THE INDIAN CHIEF AND THE BISHOP.

Bishop Whipple, who did so much work among the Indians of North America, tells how a great Indian chief became a Christian. 'One day,' he writes, 'the chief came to see me, and said that he wished to be a Christian; that he knew he must die some day, but he had been told of the new life into which Christians entered after death, and that he also would like to enter that life.'

'Shall I cut your hair?' asked the Bishop.

This strange question was understood perfectly well by the chief. It meant that he must cut off the bad old habit of going on the war-path.

'No, I cannot allow you to cut my hair,' he answered, reluctantly, for he was not ready to give up going on the war-path.

'Well, you cannot become a Christian unless you cut your hair,' said the Bishop, sorrowfully.

The chief went away, but he still attended the services which the Bishop held, and after some months came again to the Bishop.

'I want to be sure of that life after death,' he said. 'Please make me a Christian.'

'Shall I cut your hair?' asked the Bishop again.

'Yes; do whatever you like with me so long as you make me a Christian,'

answered the chief.

Thus the chief eventually became a Christian, and many of his tribe followed his example.

THE NAUGHTY KITTENS.

'Look at old Puss,' the Kittens said, 'He's fast asleep, he nods his head; How dull and stupid it must be To be as slow and old as he!

He lies and sleeps there in the sun, And does not try to play or run; Creep up and gives him just a pat-- He ought to run, he gets so fat!'